Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20180527004826/@comment-5583506-20180531142959

As soon as the club was open for business, people started to enter through the polished faux-gold doors. A few regulars of the working class who had the will and money to attend, a couple of middle-class citizens who wanted to take some time off, and of course the droves of American soldiers from various regements.

While Jaques berated his bartender assistant for not having brought in the extra supply of whiskey from the loading bay on the backside, the people working in the lobby put on their best "welcome" smiles as they took the guests' clothing.

Meanwhile Katherine sat in her lounge as she put on her make-up. From somewhere in the shadows behind her, she caught the reflection of a shape far too familiar.

"It certainly suits you", said the Cat, standing up behind her as she leaned in over her shoulder.

"You think?" Katherine said.

"It makes you look... desirable..."

"I don't know about that. I have no wish to get to know my enemy in any other way than within the range of a gun."

The Cat shrugged. "Bitter till the bloody end. I like it. But you'd do well to keep those opinions to yourself if you want to survive this little game of ours."

"Game?" Katherine gazed over her shoulder, forgetting for a brief moment that there was in fact no one there. Once she looked back at her own reflection in the mirror, the shady character was there again. Like a mirror image of herself, dressed in that haunting tiger mask completely covering her face. "I didn't know you thought of it that way."

"Of course I do. It's all a game in the end. One you'd better not end up losing. There is no justice in this world save for the one we make for ourselves. And our justice will be..."

"... death to the annexation and all those who support it."

The Cat giggled. "That's cold. But that's just how vengeance and justice should be served; cold as ice. And preferably with a hail of bullets, just like the ones they fired when they started this game."

"You think I have a chance to succeed? Where there is one supporter there is a hundred more."

"Then I suppose you will have to kill for a very long time."

Katherine drew for breath as she started to add mascara around her eyes. "Cat... do you consider me... normal?"

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Why would you ask me that? You should know the answer to that better than anyone else."

"I want to hear it personally from you. Because... if I am not normal... or sane. Then... how do I know if I will ever be free? Free of this anger, I mean? Free of this hatred and... and..."

She cast a quick glance at the reflection of her tiger-masked self standing behind her in the mirror. The Cat didn't answer, at least not directly.

"I know what you mean, Katherine. You want to know if all these murders I have committed for you will serve a purpose in the end. Whether or not we together will achieve something? Or whether you are you are just one seriously disturbed woman who projects her futile desires for vengeance upon the concept of mayhem; involving people who may or may not have played a part in the very reason you are feeling the way you do."''

The Cat made a brief pause. "I do not know, to be honest. And in the end, does it really matter? Anyone who supported the idea of the Edmonton massacre, and the enslavement of an entire country and its people for the sheer sake of greed and strategy, is a person this world would be better off not having in it. And I will make sure to carry that idea through."

The Cat put a comforting hand on Katherine's shoulder. "Do your best tonight, Katherine. When the time comes, I will be ready."

When Katherine reached for the hand on her shoulder, she felt... nothing. Then again she expected nothing less. The Cat wasn't there. She was inside her. If she was a monster, then so was the U.S. Government for having made her so the moment they justified the killings in Edmonton and annexation of Canada. There could be no room for regret or pity.

Once people had started to gather around the stage, she heard the announcement of the Ray Lebreaux, the club host, presenting the Rodin Favre Orchestra who would accompany her performance. Quickly finishing up the last polish of her presentable feautres, she exited her lounge, ascended the stairs and walked out on the stage, standing before the lake of people.