Timelines: What if Spain Failed to Control the World?

Capibara said:

Nice poster, but I insist, books are way better than the film

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Haha so I've been told XD I can totally see it too .

comagoosie: It happens every now and again !

Grubnessul: XD maaaybe ... We'll get more insights in this next update .

Update is 30% done . i expect to be done in the next 3 hours

Capibara said:

Excellent!, that way I can read it after I'm back from lunch.

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I'll try not to disappoint Have a good lunch !

comagoosie & ForzaA: ROFL yes yes , I am a bit late XD

It actually doesn't take me *that* long to write the update itself but it's the uploading and the image making and then all the breaks I take in between that makes it so long XD

What I would sometimes do is write a page then play starcraft , write a page , have lunch , write another page , go for a walk . Things like that XD

UPDATE IS NOW !

“What's her condition?” Doctor Alvarez asked the triage nurse as he rushed into the emergency room of St. Vincent Medical Center.

“From what I can tell: internal bleeding and a slight concussion. She's the worst one to come in today,” the nurse replied while handing over a clipboard to the doctor.

“Car accident?” Doctor Alvarez asked while looking over the reports. Even before the nurse could say no to him, however, he could already tell it wasn't some simple accident; the external injuries were more consistent with having fallen off a mountain...

“Here's the X-rays,” the nurse added as they rounded the corner.

St. Vincent's emergency room had been fully staffed since earlier in the evening when the small tremor affected the immediate Los Angeles area. Not only was it a response to any injuries that may have come in from the area's frequent earthquakes, but considering the Games going on at the time, most of the staff at the hospital had their hands full from all of the foreign visitors.

Dr. Emilio Alvarez was no exception. “We'll need to move her to surgery immediately,” he spoke above the din of the various other patients and doctors interacting in the packed room. As the nurses scrambled to make way for the bed and patient, Dr. Alvarez noticed a young man jump to his feet and approach him as they were taking the young woman away. The triage nurse garnered the wisdom to halt him from interfering and calmed him down.

“They're just taking her to surgery,” the nurse said calmly, “You can go to the waiting room and wait there, sir.”

The young man nodded painfully but kept his eyes on the doctor, locking in a pleading stare with the man. Dr. Alvarez was not unused to that look. He'd seen it often in the family members that would enter that busy hospital. Those eyes always asked him the same thing-- please save him; please save her. Perhaps what was so different about this one was that the clothes he wore made him look like some old haciendero although the costume was just a bit different to make him stand out even more. It was like Dr. Alvarez was looking into one of his father's old photo albums of the plantations back in Texas.

The doctor wasted no more time and ran after the traveling hub of nurses carrying his patient to the surgery ward. He could feel the young man's eyes follow his back even after he passed through the double doors. “What's her name?” he asked one of the nurses as he unrolled the scalpels and other metal instruments on one of the side tables. The nurse had to take a moment to look at the clipboard.

“Isabella, Señor doctor.”


“The cathedral should be five more streets down,” Sweet recalled as he looked back to his burgeoning companion, “we should be able to get there in the next half hour keeping only to the alleyways.” Both he and Cardinal DeWitt agreed to stay out of the main roads in order to avoid any undue exposure of their rather exotic costumes and hoped to reach the cathedral without incident. Thus, weaving through the alleys of the city was the best choice.

Los Angeles was not what either of them recalled from their last trip to California. The once dusty and thirsty town was now an imposing metropolis of lights, stone, and metal. The strange lamps that glowed without flames and the sounds of growling carriages on the road made the entire experience almost surreal. Even the smell was different-- it was no longer the arid heaviness of the desert air; instead, it was like the stench of rotten tobacco being burnt.

Their movement was slow; not just because of the careful pace by which they avoided the main thoroughfares, but also because the Panzerkardinal was not exactly the most agile man to be walking around in dozens of pounds of metal. The clang of his pieces echoed across the tall monolithic buildings and rang the air each time he took a step. The Cardinal left it up to his younger companion to find their way.

Fortunately, this was Sweet's specialty; traversing a metropolis was like second nature to him. Behind that stoic expression, it was as if something was already placing all of these new sights into abstractions that the young man could readily identify with. Streets... alleys... sewers... they were all the same regardless of time or place; a city would still be a city with all of its wonders and with all of its dangers.

“There's someone coming from up ahead,” Sweet hissed before making the next turn. The Cardinal froze with his chained spear drawn in a readying pose.

“How many?” the larger one asked in a whisper as Sweet crouched low to the ground next to him.

“At least five from the footsteps-- here they come.”

The Cardinal's gauntlet squeezed the metal bar of his spear as the first one of the alleywalkers crossed into their line of sight. Boots were the first to be revealed riding up to the person's knee gripping onto the legs like a black snake attempting to swallow more than it could digest. There was an interim of skin that came next; tight and managed- the skin was like a seamless continuation of the glossy boots below.

What covered the torso was a mockery of any dress skirt either Sweet or the Cardinal had seen. Barely reaching the middle of the thigh, the piece of clothing dangled dangerously and easily wafted upward with every step. Another interim of skin in the middle with an inward curve that puckered a bellybutton in between before, above that, dark fabric wrapped in one loop around the figure while leaving shoulders and cleavage to rage against the night darkness and cold. A woman's face looked at Sweet and the Cardinal in surprise as four other similarly dressed women stopped short behind her.

It was a true sign of the city, Sweet thought to himself. It did not take a leap of understanding for him to figure out what these creatures of the night were. He looked up to Cardinal DeWitt who similarly had the same reaction. The women, at first shocked, began speaking to each other with hidden smiles and chuckles. “They must be some of the provincials...” they said amongst themselves with giddy looks. One of them, stepped forward with an obvious coyness in her gait. “Do you boys see anything you like?” she said to them while hugging her waist to perk up her chest in the process.

Sweet rose up from his crouched spot and all of the girls couldn't hold back some of their giggles. “Chino's a cute one,” one of them said.

Sweet stepped towards the lead girl who straightened herself up with some surprise before he walked right past her. The other girls similarly had an excited reaction before Sweet ignored all of them and rounded the corner. “The way's clear to the next intersection,” the Korean informed his companion. Immediately, the young women shot him icy looks and waved their hands dramatically at the percepted abuse.

Cardinal DeWitt was not so dispassionate. He looked at each of the young women as if he had stumbled upon a flock of lost animals. “Please go home, ladies,” he said to them quietly as he stepped forward. It was only then that his massive stature and body armour began to alarm the women into stepping out of his way. “Regardless of how bad your lives can be, it's not worth what you're doing now,” the Cardinal added before turning the corner behind his younger companion. That's when he noticed that Sweet had stopped.

“Are none of my hos good enough for you?” a strange beast of a man greeted them wearing the skin of a leopard with a cap as colourful as an exotic bird and holding out a cane like he was some minor potentate. Both the Cardinal and Sweet were at a loss for words as they stood there watching this apparition with black spectacles grin at them with teeth that shone with a hint of gold. “Naw naw naw,” the figure kept speaking to them, “You see, fellas, you don't disrespect Master G in his own territory. You should know that if you come here, you pay my hos whether you ask for their services or not. Those are the rules.”

“We're not interested in your prostitutes,” the Cardinal said back to the man, “but we have no quarrel with you so we shall be on our way.”

“Naw naw naw,” the man repeated wagging a finger at the both of them that was gilded with golden rings as heavily as the goldmine in his mouth, “You see, now you just disrespected me too and I can't have that. I have a business to run, gentlemen, and I can't do that if I don't have respectability. Are you sayin' Master G's hos aren't pretty enough for you?”

Both Sweet and the Cardinal furrowed their brows at the strange terminology but deduced what it meant anyway. “Sir,” the Cardinal reserved some patience considering their circumstances, “we are not interested and we have no money to give you to help with your evil enterprise.”

The one in leopard's skin shook his head with a huff at the rejection before snapping his fingers. The girls behind the Cardinal executed a simultaneous giggle before receding away from the alley. Replacing them were a set of tall men carrying various degrees of blunt weaponry approaching from behind the two travelers. “I'm afraid that was the wrong choice, gentlemen.”


The warm water was a welcome change for Nia. Her sores muscles relaxed under the massaging caress of the descending liquid as it crashed against her dark skin and washed the soap and dirt away. She had to get one of the female nurses to explain to her how the knobs worked to activate the shower, but once she had a steady stream of steamy water going, she let herself lean against the tile wall with one arm cushioning her forehead from the hard surface.

Her ebony hair hugged her neck and the water massaging her scalp enjoyed a trip down her face and trickled off of her half open lips as she breathed in and out slowly. She was a dark figure in contrast to the lathered soap along her smooth body. The white tiles only accentuated the tan she sported. She needed that shower not just to wash away the residual soot, but in the darkness of her closed lids, she could finally take stock of all that had happened and recognize the anxieties she faced-- something she'd never show in front of the others.

A strange new world, she thought to herself. It was in these brief moments where she held herself and sighed out her fatigue did she yearn for something more than just the comforting motions of the water dripping on her skin. She had traveled the world more than twice in her lifetime and still there was no place to call home and now she's hundreds of years away from anything she had known-- except for those people. Perhaps the closest thing she had to a home were those times when she was with her parents in Brazil. Walking to the beach at Ipanema almost every morning...

The beach... yes... there was another place that seemed like home. That seemed like it was a mother and father again. That beach that she shared with him. The white sand, the turquoise water and the lazy days waiting for rescue alone with him. She sighed into the vapour again and pulled herself away from the wall letting the water switch from gliding along her back to following her frontal curves. That was long gone now, she thought to herself; Antonio would not answer the destiny of their names-- their flower that was supposed to bloom together. If she was to survive, she would have to forget. She would forget about him...

Her fingers shut off the water and she let out one final exhale into the moist atmosphere of the shower room before grabbing her towel and wiping herself off. Stepping out into the cooler air of the hospital suite, she held her towel tightly against her body before nearly bumping into Antonio.

The young man in front of her was already half naked with a towel around his waist and one hand holding the cloth together. He looked just as surprised as she was. “I... the doctor said Isabella's going to be okay,” he began to explain, “so I thought I'd clean myself up before--”

Nia nodded forcing herself to look down towards the bed. Antonio was still as handsome as those days on the beach, she thought to herself. Despite the soot and dirt still clinging to his form, he still had that simple charm to him; the kind that disarmed Nia, but it was a feeling she denied vehemently with her expressions. She didn't even notice that Antonio was staring at her. “Sorry, I'll get out of your way,” she said forcing a grin before walking out of the room. Antonio turned as if to say something, but the fatigue choked his throat.


Bodies hung from balconies or dangled up side down from trash bins all over the alley. The sound of gangsters fleeing was only matched by the boisterous laughter of His Eminence Cardinal DeWitt as he heaved another would-be attacker into another trash container before tossing yet another onto one to the metal balconies on the side of the building while laughing himself silly.

Sweet, on the other hand, preferred the subtler method of disabling every external nerve point on an assaulter's body until they were a twitching pile of contorted thug gurgling on the alley floor. Most of the criminals were already dispatched and the prostitutes were reduced to crying in fear in the corner. Mr. G himself attempted to hide behind them. “Here, take it!” he was groveling as he shoved one gold piece after another at Sweet and the Cardinal.

Sweet picked up the pieces, “These should be useful for currency,” the Korean speculated testing the quality of the metal with his teeth.

“Let's not waste any more time, then,” the Cardinal huffed impatiently. Sweet nodded as he gave a rare smile to the pimp.

“Don't hurt me,” the man squealed.

“Go to confession and repent,” the Cardinal tersely concluded before walking off once more towards their destination.

Crossing the next intersection, Sweet and the Cardinal sneaked across the street as swiftly as they could. “It's only a few more intersections until we reach the cathedral,” Sweet informed him, “Hopefully we can alert the local constable about Sio-Pan and--”

“There they are!” someone shouted from down the street. A flood of light streamed down the road and nearly blinded both Sweet and the Cardinal. “Put your hands in the air and get down on the ground!” another voice called out much louder than the first. The first instinct of both of them was to run into the nearest alley, but shadows already stirred against them from those directions.

“This is the LAPD. You're completely surrounded! Surrender quietly!” someone from the alley said holding up what appeared like a dark metallic pistol at them.

“What is--” the Cardinal growled before the shouting came again.

“Put your hands in the air or we will shoot!” more and more men seemed to surround the two of them similarly holding up weapons trained at them. Both looked at each other briefly before two small wires were shot in their direction and clipped their torsos. Both seized up immediately and had no power over their muscles. After the initial shock, only the Cardinal rose to his feet with an angry growl before another jolt was delivered forcing him onto the ground.

“He's not going down, captain!” one of the men yelled out with a panic.

“Increase voltage!” the voice said back. Finally, the Cardinal crashed against the pavement with a slow sizzle accompanying his heavy fall.

“We've got them, sir,” one of the men on the side reported.

“Dios mio... no wonder this guy wrecked that Jaguar off the 101...”

“Captain, HQ is calling in asking if we need any backup.”

“Tell them we have it under control...” the man paused while looking at his men attempting to find handcuffs that fit the giant, “that's the last time you wreck cars in my city... Take them to the station!”


“Approaching Ulaan Bataar waystation, Lieutenant,” the pilot informed the cabin.

“Take us in slowly, Pharaoh,” the Lieutenant responded, “Let's get along the treetops just in case they can see through the jamming cloak.”

“Roger that, Lieutenant. Spunky, get me a reading on that beacon.”

“We'll have to cross through the cloud cover here if we want to get into an approach vector they haven't used,” the co-pilot responded.

The pilot nodded and adjusted the heading through the Siberian storm clouds, “Hold on,” she said, “we're in for some chop.”

A soft rumble permeated through the metal casing as the craft crossed through the clouds and descended closer to the surface. “How much longer until we catch up with them?” a voice came from the cabin. Rodrigo's face emerged into the cockpit while it rocked inside one of the helmets while the turbulence increased.

The Lieutenant looked towards the pilots, “how are we doing?”

“We're in the pipe,” Pharaoh replied, “five by five.”

“We should get to the beacon within the next six hours, then,” the Lieutenant informed his passenger.

“Good. Have your marines ready to follow me,” Rodrigo instructed the Lieutenant before shifting back into the cabin of the dropship.


“Gentlemen, I'm afraid we have a small problem with Operation Supernova,” a voice said.

“How much money have you wasted this time?” a voice grunted back.

“It seems,” the first voice ignored the second, “that one of our agents-- Pablo-- who recently procured the Osaka transaction clandestinely provided the head of Schwarzschild-- Marcus Councilman-- with Thomas Royce.”

There was a general murmur. “This is unacceptable!” one of them shouted. “Tipping the balance is--”

“We already know the mission of the Romanfellow Foundation,” the first voice growled, “but at this point we cannot help what has occurred. I believe there is one option we should consider to rectify the problem.”

“You don't mean--”

“Yes, we require the possession of One of the Keys to reinstitute the Balance.”

“And how do you propose going about doing that?”

“We will use the Osaka funds to buy it.”

“Buy it? Is there something you're not telling us?!”

There was a short pause. “We do have a seller.”

There was another commotion. The first voice let them talk for a while, however. They had no choice, they had to use their ace in the hole. “While this operation goes on, I'd like one of our teams to take Pablo out of the equation.”

“That goes without saying!” someone roared. “But more importantly, you've been holding out on us, Dermail!”

“I assure this committee that this information has only come to me recently!” the first voice asserted itself. “After all, it's not as if someone who would sell you the powers of the Apostles is an every day thing. For centuries, we have only had to rely on our own predictions and divinations but soon, we will finally have true power and Operation Supernova will continue just as the committee dictates!”

Chapter CVIII: Malebolge Part II [Simoniacs & Astrologers] (coming soon)

Grubnessul said:

What's with you and shower scenes?

Pretty brave gangsters if they attack a man in full armour. Speaking of it, should the stun pistol work on the Cardinal's armour?

Nice Starcraft reference btw

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ROFL ROFL I can't help the shower scenes XD they're too good sometimes !

And of course it would work on the Cardinal's armour , metal conducts electricity , silly !

As for the Starcraft reference , it's actually a reference of a reference since Starcraft got it from ... well i'll let others point it out XD

Davout said:

Its one of the best scenes from Aliens. Great stuff, canonized

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Thank you very much

English Patriot said:

Excellent update! Man the coppers always show up at the wrong moment! Looking forward to seeing the Foundation in action!

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Indeed sometimes they do XD

ColossusCrusher: The Dropship/Aliens reference there at the end , you silly goose XD

Also , an interesting thing about this chapter is that it actually has a double Dante tie-in involvingone of the aspects of Dante's journey that I didn't elaborate on , namely the three beasts he meets in the beginning in the Dark Wood . One is the leopard that represents incontinence such as sexual weakness . Thus , it's what the pimp was attempting to impress upon the Cardinal and Sweet that they should be incontinent . Thus , if they had succumbed while they would have been categorized by Dante as those in Circle 2 , the pimp himself would have joined those in Malebolge 1 . I hadn't got a chance to describe the punishments in the first two bolge yet since I wanted to do a chapter on the 1984 going-ons so we'll resume the Dante lesson in the next chapter XD

TheExecuter said:

Stttttt....aaaahhhh....

Starcraft need satisfied. Isabella / Antonio need temporarily satisfied.

Vastly enjoyed the PanzerKardinal's antics here...one wonder how he will handle the upcoming interrogation. Don't make us wait too long for it...

Who is this committee? Hmm...

TheExecuter

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Haha I'm always glad to deliver XD I'll try to be faster with the updates !