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<<< The time had finally come. They dragged on for as long as they could, but come time for dusk, a decision had to be made. It all came down to this. The final moments.

and battled it out, leaving their fates in the hands of , who dragged things on and on and on, waiting to make his move, cautiously thinking it through.

He felt lost. Doubt wrecked his mind, as he considered if Nacho and penguin could be scumbags of different kinds, making a victory on the streets impossible, but ultimately, he held onto that slim hope that he could win. That he wouldn't lose.

It might have only been a little more than a week, yet things feel as if they have been drawn on for far longer than that, leaving restless spirits about, waiting impatiently to be finally released from the mortal coil or forever bound to it. All it'd take, now, was some precious few seconds for their destinies to be decided.

But what would it be? Could the honest citizens actually pull it off? Anguishing over it for far too long, all PeregrineV could do is pray that he could do the right thing.

And the faithful words come out of his mouth, sealing the deal once and for all. And all he could do is to wait, as things would be revealed one way or another. With just three remaining, and with one now in the noose, with only two left, there would be a resolution to the conflict. But...what would it be?

Nacho went out cursing PeregrineV. Impossible to remain collected after such an ordeal, it is fair to say that he lost it just as much as PeregrineV did, but in a vastly different way. He cursed his name, out of anger, out of frustration, out of utter disappointment that...that... is how it would all end. However, undeterred, PeregrineV pushed through.

And while understanding the decision, Nacho just stood there, in disbelief.

It was over.

"It shouldn't have ended like this."

"I'm sorry. But this is how it is."

And with that...Nacho was put to death. Many words could have been exchanged. Many emotions certainly were. But an eerily-long silence crept over the streets (moreso than normal), signifying something major having happened.

It had ended.


"Did...did we do it?" PeregrineV asked penguin_alien as twilight's light glistened a brilliant red on the two of them, the last of the yellows having already begun to fade into the night.

"Did we...win?"

"Yeah...we did."

*BAM*

A brief look of horror flashes across the face of the victim, having suddenly been claimed by the violence in the moment least expected. And in this weakened state, it took every bit of energy PeregrineV had to stand and face his attacker.

There, him bleeding with a wound to the gut, he stared at penguin_alien. He wasn't in shock. Rather, not from being shot. While disappointed, while sad, while angry at himself that he would never get a chance at a full life, to finish the work he had started...none of that really mattered to him. What really mattered was the face on his assailant, and that was certainly not what he expected to see.

The simple look in her eyes told the whole story, without a need for complex words. There was no pleasure at securing a kill, or at achieving that final victory. There was no dispassionate coldness of a professional killer having just claimed their final bounty. No...the look on her face is that, almost the same as his own, of a human being undergoing the deepest emotions of all.

For she held a sorrow in her heart, regretting everything, and that look of sadness was enough for him, in his final moments, to tell. That she was cursed to live. That she didn't want any of this but was going through it anyway. That she truly loved, respected, cared, and admired for others, but ultimately, held loyalty to a single man, .

That regret, yet that determination, yet that feeling of loneliness and emptiness. Yes, he had known those all too well to ever miss them coming from his assassin. This was not a victory either side would have enjoyed. For now...she had nobody. Nothing left. But the ashes of her former home, ruined by the decay of time, rotting into a hellhole. No, she desired that just as little as any other citizen would have, and seeing it happen broke her heart.

So much death. So much loss. So much wasted life, so much wasted potential, so much lost forever to never be regained. She knew this, and so did he.

Complex words could have been given, but simple words worked just as well, to point respect and admiration to each other, for having danced the good dance and let it conclude.

So in the moments after he is shot, once recovering from the shock, PeregrineV simply smiles.

"Well-done."

No curse to have bad luck, no wish for a comeback (though obviously wishing he could take his original decision back), and even wishing her better fame and fortune than she had held thusfar in life.

A simple parting, between two who could be considered friends, despite their opposing end-objectives. That was all that need be said.

And, after collapsing to his knees, wavering, ready to fall into death, he was caught by his shooter, who gently let him drift to the ground. His eyes closing, blurred vision, he can't help but notice that penguin_alien was tearing up herself, holding a weak smile, and unable to utter the words, yet feeling them all the same.

'Thank you'. Not given in a condescending 'thank you for giving me the victory' way. A heartfelt feeling of gratitude for everything.

And it's that feeling which lets him pass with ease, ending his life in the mortal coil, and leaving the lone survivor around to pick up the mess and reforge things as she saw fit.

She was not CrashTextDummie. She couldn't hope to fulfill his vision. But...she could create one of her own. >>>

<<< Alison Leah Ien, alias , had died that day. She lived on, as her foster-father CrashTextDummie had intended her to do, but she was a changed woman, whose outlook on life had been permanently altered. Reflecting these changes, she had decided to leave that name behind her. Needing a somewhat-plausible explanation to avoid the short hand of the law, she decided it would be best if she were legally dead, taking on the name of the actually-dead Rena, and even her alias of Haylen.

While it took some pulling of the strings to work, it worked well enough that nobody questioned her word or her identity. After all...now? Now...she ruled more than just the streets. She had avoided being caught, and now controlled everything. She might not have wanted it, but she did her best to handle things as delicately as she could, to make her own will, her own vision, come true as a result of this tragedy.

Yes. It had taken far too long to do, but she had crafted the streets that had once been maniacal back into a paradise similar to what they had used to be. While silently ruling from the underground as an invisible dictator, there was peace. The city was prospering. The crime rate became the absolute lowest it had ever been, exceeding most cities in how rare it was, simply because she now was the head of the only organized crime existing.

The red empire had long-since fallen apart. Its ring-leaders dead, and made up mostly of greedy thugs, they eventually imploded on themselves and were wiped out. With the citizens pacified and the law under her control, she had created happiness, even if it was happiness through unseen slavery.

Though the nasty things such as drugs, alcohol, tobacco, and, ah, "finer" pleasures in life, still exist, Alison's regulations became so strict (especially when it comes to children) that they run like a business in their efficiency and usage policy.

This is undoubtedly not what the original denizens of the streets had wanted--but she had done in two years what they couldn't have done in twenty. It certainly was more kind-hearted than the ruthless schemes of her predecessor, but she saw no issues with that. Yes...this was power used well, and power that had influence continue to grow.

She ruled not just the city, but the entirety of the underground world, having expanded outward and conquered all her rivals just as she had previously learned to do. She even got positions of high power--including the President of the nation, to be under her domain.

This was true power, this was true strength. She was the queen of the world, "Haylen", having entirely fulfilled a promise to never stop expanding.

Yes, Alison may hold the day job of running an orphanage, but her night job is supporting so many community activities and so many things funded by her business. Including the project to rebuild her shattered suburb, paying living families of the deceased anonymous compensation, and the creation of a memorial that honored the lost souls to her struggle.

Cedric Phlox Richardson was a military veteran, having served in eight conflicts over his term of service. A competent marksman and excellent tracker, he was known for his cold, professional attitude. A bit of a loner, he never worked well in teams, and it should come as no surprise that he did not socialize with others well.

When his tour of duty was finished, he landed in the middle of our recession, left with no job and no support. Left to beg on the streets, his skills were eventually realized, and he became a professional stalker in the underground, able to execute missions with militaristic precision. Introduced to the various goods in the underground world (including drugs), he found himself incapable of leaving, preferring the life of crime.

It wasn't long before his ambition drove him to seek control of his life, sick of taking orders and being screwed over by others. It is this common mindset which got

Cephrir

into contact with his allies.



Nathaniel Charles Morgenson the eight came from a long line of Morgensons who held the same ordinary lifestyle. Having no family trade, they had a long familial history of being jacks of all trades, and masters of none. Well-studied and well-versed on most subjects, researching them thoroughly, they all had a certain level of charm to them.

Nachomamma8

thought these talents could help him solve the problems in the community, volunteering to be a strong voice in the community, but ultimately, his life was claimed in the string of violent murders.



David Louis Green emmigrated from the city life, living peacefully in an isolated rural community for the rest of his life. Though constantly coming back to the fight, and longing for a chance to meet his lover once again, he resolved to put a close to that chapter in his life, never returning to see the results, and never being bothered by them either.


Peter Rene Green the fifth, a distant cousin of

DLG

insisting on the nickname "

PeregrineV

" immigrated to the streets from the city, called to them by his distant cousin DLG to take care of their family house. Kind-hearted and good with numbers, being a math teacher before having moved, he resolved to find the answer to the equations involving the chaos on the streets, believing that math could instill order.



Daniel "

Action Dan

" Knight, a hardened veteran of war, held a peaceful city life for years, seemingly unphased. However, when exposed to situations in the streets dangerously close to things he had been through, a severe case of Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder caused him to have a severe mental breakdown, confining him to an insane asylum. Though crazy, he is one of the few to have lived through the ordeal.


Hank "Hanzo" Soldier, a fifth member of his squad, was personally selected to replace the incoherent madman. Unfortunately, he seemed to fall into an identical pattern as his predecessor, unable to keep up with the madness around him. His promises empty, he carted himself off to check in voluntarily to be along-side his war-buddy Danny.


Admiral Theodore James Johnson, known simply as

ThAdmiral

, was a middle-aged veteran of multiple wars, and good friends with ActionDan and Hanzo_5. Known for his stealth and decent accuracy, he was selected to come in and help by their words, personally. Inheriting a revolver, he is said to have gone out hunting, but to what effect remains ambiguous.

Nero Cain

Hitler, an unfortunately-named individual, had the same delusions of power that his name might suggest. An enigma, nobody is truly certain where he came from. All that's known is that he was murdered mid-way into the massacres in the streets.

roflcopter

, real name unknown, fled into obscurity, not to be seen again. What is known about him is not much, other than that he was, in fact, a he.


Baron von Cedar, known as

Bacde

, mild royalty, was a long-time resident of the streets, living in a rather luxurious house. When thoughts of his home being threatened arrived, he didn't hesitate to volunteer. However, an accident involving fire left him charred close to death, which forced him to leave.


Baily Aether Zhukov, otherwise called

Baezu

, was a poor immigrant who held decent ties to the baron, who got him into the world. Though not strong in English, he was smart, aiming to eventually procure a job as a counselor giving advice to others.


And last, but not least...
Alison Leah Ien was an orphan on the streets. Found by Daniel Ulrich Mauer begging on the streets, he took her under his wing as a protégé to become a potential successor. Growing up under his tutelage and treating him as a father, she learned a lot about the world, including a lot on cars. However, her true passion was to open an orphanage, to help prevent what happened to her from happening to others.

A calm, quite, and kind-hearted woman, humble and fair in passing verdicts, she was a practically-perfect person. Though harboring a dark secret, she did her best to remain respectful, sending her best to those who, like her, had survived. And that is something she is still burdened by. No others had lost as much as she had, nor seen the horrors of the war more intimately. Though she tries her best to cover it up, those things will continue to haunt her for the rest of her live, constantly lingering about her. All the death, over almost nothing worthwhile. That level of trauma leaves some fundamental scarring on a person at their most basic level, giving them post-traumatic stress.

It's not easy coping with the aftermath. Least of all coming from someone who had grown to despise killing, yet ultimately did more than any other. More than that, watching them all die was horrific. Her entire family died, with only her left to survive. To this very day, whenever thinking about it, she breaks down and cries. That loss, that pain, can never fade. But she did what she could, to recover, to normalize.

Living a seemingly small life, she manages an orphanage. It was in this orphanage that she spotted a young man. Constantly getting into fights and trying to obtain illegal substances, full of hatred, full of rage, and yet, absolutely brilliant. Still but a child, she sensed in him the potential to pass on her own legacy, one that with luck, she could make be a good one.

Things are quiet. Things have finally become peaceful, albeit at great cost. Life may not be good, but it is better than in most places. Life exists, even if freedom doesn't. With time, seasons pass and wounds of winters begin to heal with the oncoming of summer. A richness and vibrancy has sprouted from what had been decay, even if it comes at a price. People might not hold the same trust they once did of one another, but they get along well enough, helping around when they can. And most of all...things are safe. Secure. Without challenge. Though troubles are bound to exist, none are so daunting as to be impossible to overcome.

There may always be a criminal life, but that life does not necessitate the misery of all. It might be a maniacal situation, but it's a solution that has at least been filled with the order we so desperately seek in our lives.

Their act had been cleaned up, and while not in the way they intended for it to be...it would at least...be enough to satisfy everyone. After all...life sucks. But they'll go on living it, anyway. >>>