The Winged Rebellion

Chapter 22: Like Lambs to the Slaughter

Sebastian

I straighten my tie in the mirror, and turn to look at Liz and Alex. I spread my hands out, and give them a little twirl.

"Well, how do I look?" I ask, and they both laugh, Liz coming over to re-do my tie.

"You look nothing like you," She says, putting my mask on, and wiping a bit of lint off my jacket. The outfits for this year are deep navy blue suits with the White Wing insignia on the breast, loose white dress shirts, and gold bowties. The masks are a hard plaster material in blue with gold detailing for the boys. For the girls, they're in navy blue soft dresses, with plunging necklines, and slits in the thighs. Their masks are gold with blue detailing, and they all have heels with straps halfway up their calves.

It took Liz a good 15 minutes to struggle into the shoes, and Alex and I laughing at her didn't help much. Topher and Nate are meeting us at the entrance to the ball, and we're being announced by group.

At the entrance of the large glass and stone building, built specifically for the balls every year, we take in this year's theme: Birds of a Feather.

It's ridiculous, but I guess they're running out of White Wing themed ball ideas. I take a few deep breaths, putting on the Im-devoted-to-the-white-wings-and-i-am-so-happy-to-be-here figurative mask that I use for kissing old white dude sponsors butts. I see Liz fix her dress, and Alex puts on his literal mask.

"Now presenting the highly esteemed White Wing team 6264:" The announcer says, and we all walk in, blinding smiles on our faces, as we walk like lambs to the slaughter into the ball.

A nasty looking older guy swoops in and asks to dance with Liz right away, and his date, a 60-year old woman snatches up Alex chatting in his ear about how she has a grandbaby his age that would love to meet him.

I take a slow stroll around the room, until I'm stopped by a tall girl and her friend.

"Care to dance," the girl asks me, and her friend walks off. I groan internally. At least she looks pretty.

"Of course," I say and wink. I sweep her out to the dance floor, and we begin to waltz. Now that we're close, I realize she smells a lot like the shampoo Andy used.

"So, come here often?" she asks. Really? 'Come here often'? She sounds sort of like Andy too. I close my eyes slightly, and imagine it is Andy.

"Every year," I answer, trying to picture that it's Andy I'm dancing with, and not this girl.
"So, what's your name?" I ask, trying to make small talk as we twirl.

"So you don't recognize me?" she murmurs against my neck, her breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Well, I wouldn't want to say the wrong name," I joke, pulling away slightly. The girl winks at me, her brown eyes turning kaleidoscopic for a second. It is her. Andy's here.

"Andy," I whisper under my breath, and she nods. The song changes, and we move slightly off the dance floor. Before I have a chance to question her, we're ambushed by the White Wing General Claude Duponte and the political manager Ms. Samantha Penner. Andy stiffens, looking at the woman next to General Claude.

"Ah, Sebastian, my boy. Who might this strapping young lady be?" General Claude greets us, his french accent making his voice deeper, clapping me on the shoulder, and looking Andy up and down. She momentarily freezes, before softening and giving him an airy smile.

"I'm Charlotte, sir," she responds.

"It's lovely to meet you, my dear." General Claude kisses her hand, and she pretends to blush. I see her fighting the urge to roll her eyes and kick him.

"I was just saying to Ms. Samantha here that you were one of our most promising soldiers, Sebastian," He says, as he gestures to Ms. Penner over to join the conversation. Andy looks like a panicked animal, about to bolt. Her friend from earlier, Christina I'm now assuming, comes from behind us and pulls Andy away with a quick excuse.

Take me too, I want to tell Christina. But I'll grin and bear the awkward conversations and old women trying to set me up with their grandkids, and wanting to kill creepy men for staring down Liz's dress. There's no rest for the wicked.

Approximately 30 minutes later, I'm on my 3rd round of champagne, and I'm on a mission to find Andy. I didn't properly appreciate her outfit last time.

I finally spot her, hiding beside a column, and speed walk over to her, dodging 3 old ladies, and 4 old men wanting to talk about golfing and our fair country.

"So, you managed to avoid everyone, eh?" I say to Andy, and she looks at me, a distant expression on her face. It's like she's planning something and is counting the seconds until she can put it into action. Before she can reply, General Claude stands on the stage to give his speech. Normally it's a lot of 'blah blah thank you blah we appreciate the effort blah blah'. This year he seems more eager, his face stretched in anticipation.

"Welcome everyone to the 41st annual White Wing Ball. I hope you're having a great time, and its our pleasure and honour to host you tonight. Tonight we have a big announcement. We have received intel about 4 of the largest, blood thirstiest, worst rebel groups in our fair country. In our plans, that are being exacted as we speak, we're targeting The Icarus Guard, The Scarlet Rebels, The Free Birds, and The Proud Renegades. We have agents taking out 3 of each groups main facilities with bombs."

The room erupts into cheering, hoots, and applause. Andy's eyes are wide. She's panicking. I grab her hand, and squeeze it to remind her where she is.

"Thank you, thank you. None of it would be possible without all of your support towards our efforts, tonight you can make donations towards us by just flagging a server who will help you. Its our pleasure to welcome our live music tonight, and we hope you all have fun!" General Claude finishes, walking off stage, and mingling with guests once more. He walks towards us with Ms. Samantha Penner, and this time Christina isn't around to rescue Andy.

"Ah, imagine seeing you here," I joke to General Claude, who's always been a sort of mentor to me, now knowing he's planning on killing hundreds of people I'm a bit colder towards him.

We don't get a chance to converse for long before a bomb tears the ceiling apart, brick and glass shattering down towards us. I pull General Claude close to the wall, and protect Ms. Samantha Penner's head. Andy disappears for a few minutes, reappearing in armour, bloody, with dirt streaking her arms and face. She stalks back towards us, swords in hands.

Ms. Samantha Penner straightens back up, and this time there's steel in her backbone. I see her blue eyes turn into a mix of colours. She faces Andy, with the air of a mother about to discipline her child.

"Andromeda. Look at yourself. Blood on your face and hands. Blood that's not yours. Ripped and dirty. A killer. A monster. Those rebels turned you into this," she spits, looking Andy up and down. Is Andy just related to everybody in the White Wings?

"If I am a monster, I am a monster you created. A little girl you made a killer. I'm proud that I survived. Even if I am ripped and dirty and covered in other people's blood, because it means I survived. I survived all the crap I went through when you tossed me out on the street when I was 9, all the training and the exercises with the Icarus Guard, all the times when I thought I would fail, when I thought I would die, or when I thought I couldn't handle it anymore. Because I am strong. Nothing you can say or do, could ever prove me wrong," Andy replies, her voice strong, never faltering, her eyes burning a cold fire into Ms. Samantha Penner.

"Go to Hell." Andy says, then she walks away, grabbing General Claude by the arm and dragging him with her.

Wow, a lot of 'i' in that last rant Andy, maybe dont be so self centered?
Jokes, jokes.
LOVE! -Alexandra Waterwings