TITLE: Maxed Out
AUTHOR: NurseDarry
RATING: WTF (needs no translation, does it?)
DISCLAIMER: I wish I was making money on these delusions, I'd be a wealthy woman. But alas, my hard-earned cash has all been given to Tommy Hilfiger recently. GL and RS own the rest of these mooks.
THANKS: Laure for title
TIMELINE: Not sure yet, will figure it out after Part 2.
NOTES: HSU "Trial & Error" and "Grand Opening" from the Max POV

~*~

An odd place I find myself in.

Not unpleasant, just...odd. My men and I seemed to have been summoned here by no particular means that I can understand. And not just my legion, the men that I fought in the arena with are also here. We have been here several weeks, and are settling in comfortably. I feel no desire to return to Elysium, or Hades or wherever a man finds himself when he dies. For surely I had died. I had fallen in the Arena, my vision only of the fields of home, and then a wall, a wall with a door. I expected to see my final destination when I passed through that door. Instead I found myself in this field- different from the one of palest gold grain I had grown on my farm. This field was green. With white stripes on it.

I have learned that this land is granted to regents made up of the women inhabiting it. There is a President, who is more of a figurehead than owner, and yet the Regents are fiercely devoted to him. He is the heart of this place and foremost in the hearts of his staff, and yet they do not submit their lives wholly to him. Rather it seems to be a relationship of sharing and choice. From him they draw their livelihood and from them he draws his strength. Respect, is for the most part mutual. The women enjoy their games and he his. Both sides permit this, as it brings them closer together. It is a wise warrior who allows her faults to peek out of her armour from time to time. And it is a wise man, who can be seen to be human to those he loves.

I was met by two women- neither of them the two loves of my earthly life. But they have become the loves of my new existence. And a dog. A strange dog that seems to have a personality not unlike my own battle dog. But this one's insight stretches far beyond mere canine instinct. She is almost human in her perceptions.

Prepared to do battle, I was instead asked to guard a hole in the ground. I acquiesced, still getting my bearings. I was allowed to deploy my men in this effort, and no one impinged upon my authority. In fact, rather than questioning my military prowess or even my presence, most of the inhabitants paid more attention to the cut of my tunica and the shape of my arms. I had no doubt that they were used to taking care of themselves. They had managed to run this place without the Felix Legion for who-knows-how long and appeared to be a formidable force, even in the absence of this "General" of whom I often heard reference to.

The women came and went from our field of vision, as well as from our field. They wore odd costumes and had strange customs. It was a study in art and engineering, the way they moved among us and interacted with my men and each other. The two women who had "summoned" me were very different in nature, stature, dress, and personality. One was regal, wearing gowns in a heavy luxurious material and diamonds in her hair. The other was petite and feisty, with a loyalty to her canine and to her companions that rivalled my own.

I had yet to determine their intentions, but those of the women with them seemed innocent enough. I soon learned it wasn't that innocent. Perhaps this is Elysium. My pleasures were many. However, I would think that Elysium didn't revolve around the number of shoes that this place seemed to.

And, though it was clear that the women loved and respected one another, they rarely showed it.

~*~

My regal woman I had not seen in weeks. I occasionally wondered what had become of her, but assumed that she had her reasons for the absence. I was content with my station- I trained with my troops, I taught my skills to others who wanted to learn, I sparred with a strange blonde man my other woman seemed to like having around, although she was always in my arms when I awoke at daybreak. I kept my own tent, my servant Cicero also having disappeared several weeks ago. I occasionally saw him in the field, surveying the welfare of the camp, looking tired, but happy. This day however, he was nowhere to be seen.

My regal woman, Emmy is her name, her skirts held up as she tried to run in those ridiculous shoes, came to a panting halt as I sparred with Jael, my warrior. Emmy was convinced the other women of this place were after her. Jael gave me an indolent look; apparently this was a common occurrence. But, Jael needed no validation. The Diva, as Emmy was called, a title I still had yet to ascertain the significance of, was in trouble, and hence, needed protecting. Like I said, my Jael was supportive of anyone in need, although these needs she often did not often ask after, either out of respect or just plain apathy.

We accompanied Emmy to the large outbuilding where the women ran their government. I was silent, knowing nothing about the circumstances. Jael assured Emmy she was in the right, although I'm not sure Jael knew the circumstances of Emmy's flight with any more clarity than I. Yes, Emmy had told her what she perceived had happened. Jael would take this on faith. She has much faith, my Jael.

I found myself the protector of my regal woman as she underwent some sort of interrogation. I myself knew not of the reason for this inquisition, only that it had been levied on my Emmy. There were no instruments of torture- women rarely needed them when their tongues could do as much damage. I'm sure I'm not the first man to fall victim to the scathing wrath only a diatribe by a woman can inflict. They use their words as weapons, and formidable weapons they are. In a room this crowded, I was sure violence could ensue.

The women of the jury seemed at odds with one another. I surveyed to the room. The Mediator of the proceedings attempted to keep a cool head, but the bickering of her panel, plus the sounds emanating from the next room both contributed to her quickly growing state of frustration. Why anyone would be engaging in the act of love whilst a hearing of one's peer was being conducted in the next room was beyond my scope of understanding. But then again, I am a man. And in this place, I am constantly reminded of how my priorities differ from those of women.

After assessing the Mediator, I surveyed the participants. I must be at the ready for any unprovoked attack. Several looked angry, as it sounded as though a dire crime had been perpetrated. Others looked non-committal, as if unsure that their Diva was capable of such heinousness. One, their chief surgeon, looked bored and restless. Impeccably tailored whenever I had seen her before, she now appeared preoccupied. Another woman was using some instrument that flashed a light in the room. I would ask Jael as to its purpose later, but it seemed not to harm anyone. By the door, still another woman furiously wrote a record of the speech.

The proceedings were interrupted by a strange skinny boy who may have been a messenger, but he was greeted with hostility and disdain, so whatever message he'd been sent to deliver must not have been good. The air in the room thickened. The female occupant from the room next door emerged wearing very casual attire and joined the fray. He paramour went unseen, although no one seemed to question her odd behaviour or dress.

Tempers rose as it sounded as though the women were running through a litany of their members, trying to narrow down the suspects and either exonerate or condemn my regal one. I tried to ensure she felt safe with me there to protect her. I think she just felt bitter.

Several minutes later my wayward servant entered the room dragging in with him a shorter man with sharp features and a mane of black hair. Obviously a foreigner. At the site of him, the tension in the room broke. The women seemed to have come to the decision that this scoundrel was the guilty party. He shrugged off Cicero and glared, then affected a look that my son often used when he had done something wrong and was now trying to make light of the situation.

My Jael moved like lightning, covering the rogue with her sword. He became flippant with her and she made it perfectly clear to him that she meant business. A man will agree to just about anything when threatened in this particular manner. The women, however, did not appear alarmed, more resigned- as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Unbeknownst to me, it did.

The rogue's life was pleaded on behalf of a woman all in black, wearing very imposing boots, whom everyone chose to ignore, except for the man himself, who flashed her a beguiling smile. My servant moved to stand behind the previously disinterested Physician, who leaned against him. He placed a possessive hand on her shoulder; there was one mystery solved.

My Emmy, now no longer worried, but extremely angered, glared at the guilty man. He smiled that beguiling smile at her, as if he knew a secret about her no other in the room did, and then made a wholly inappropriate remark. The room erupted into chaos. I stood my ground, awaiting orders, and holding Jael by the collar in order that she not make mincemeat of anyone. Emmy had grabbed the rascal by the throat and was shaking him, but all he did was continue to smile and try to place his arms around her.

The Mediator retired to the adjacent room, smiling as she opened the door. Apparently, the occupant was more to her liking than the proceedings of this trial. The Surgeon took my servant by the hand and they quickly climbed over chairs and people, making a hasty exit. The girl in the black boots, shook her head and stood her ground, pulling at the strange man's hair and shouting "heel". In the opposite corner, the girl with the machine that flashed was furiously aiming. I know not whether this helped calm the situation or not. In the middle of all of this was the woman Jael had described as "the Dean", waving her arms about and shouting "shut up", "calm down", and "get a grip". Knowing she could not be talking to me as I was calm and firmly held Jael in one hand and my sword in the other, I watched and waited.

An odd place I find myself in.

End of Part One