Megalodon: The Hunt for the Predator (IC; Open)

[Cylarn]

(OOC Thread: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=185614)

At 4:50 AM, Scott Preston had already been up for an hour. The new skipper of the S.S. Dreamcatcher was at the Port of San Diego, waiting in the parking lot for his contact to show up. The former Marine was wearing the 2004-style ODU (Operational Dress Uniform) with the blouse tucked in, along with a dark blue utility cover, a dark blue t-shirt and dog tags underneath the blouse, and black combat boots. This was the standard uniform for the Dreamcatcher's crew, insisted by the US government so that the crew would look somewhat official on the high seas. The ODUs had been sent to the crew, and were optional for the researchers. A black Dodge Charger pulled up and a man wearing a black suit exited the vehicle. The man, carrying a briefcase in his left hand, approached Scott and held out his right hand. The Marine gave him a firm handshake.

"How are you on this fine morning sir?," Scott asked.

"I'm doing fine, Mr. Preston," the man replied. "Walk with me. We'll head on over to the boat."

Picking up his black duffle bag, Scott followed the man.

"So, is everything aboard?," Scott asked.

"I stopped by yesterday and the Harbor Master told me that that everything was accounted for," the man said. "All the equipment and provisions you'll need have been stored aboard the ship. The Dreamcatcher and its auxillary vehicles have been inspected and fueled."

The two men stopped outside the vessel and took a second to look at the research boat.

"Your crew and the research team should be here soon," the man said, looking at his watch.

[Lancearc]

It had been a relatively long flight for Jacob, having to take a few stops on the way to San Diego whilst flying from Tulsa, Oklahoma, and he was tired. He'd spent the better part of the day before gathering his necessary equipment and saying his farewells to his wife and little girl, and the flight was delayed a few hours due to the stormy weather typical of Northeastern Oklahoma during this time of the year. But now, he was in a taxi headed towards the Port of San Diego. The early morning sun wasn't quite out yet, and it was still a bit dark as the taxi pulled into a parking lot just a somewhat short walk from the port.

As the yellow cab pulled into the parking lot, Jacob noticed a Dodge Charger sitting lonely in the lot. The cab pulled up next to it and Jacob exited, handing the payment and a little tip to the cab driver. They exchanged nods and the cab was off once more to it's early morning rounds at the airport. He made his way past the black car and towards the dock. In the distance he could see the vessel he'd be taking, the S.S. Dreamcatcher. It looked like a decent ship, and he made haste towards it.

He noticed two men standing at the start of the dock and walked towards him with his backpack full of essentials slung over his shoulder. He grinned slightly, nodding towards the two. "An early good morning to you gentleman." he said, stopping in front of them. "Jacob Matteson, oceanographer, diver and man who is risking all his credibility in the science world if he doesn't find this giant prehistoric shark." he said with a slight laugh and a grin.

[Democracy of Miners]

Jack Norris stood with a calm, collected face as he stared out from the airport to the ocean not to far away. He pulled out a small card with directions detailing exactly where he would need to go. A short hour later, he was in a cab, heading to a port housing the Dreamcatcher, the boat that he would be boarding.

As Jack listed where he was going, the cabbie couldn't help but wonder if he was hunting down the Megalodon.

"You on that expedition for that Megalo thing?"

"I am"

"Sounds like you have a death wish, damn thing's bigger than my house."

"I've sunken subs. I can handle this. Besides, the crew needs someone levelheaded to do things the hard way, if that needs to be done"

"You look a bit old for something like this."

"Age is a number. My real strength lies within my trust of my own body"

"I still think you're all going to die horribly"

"That may be. If not, I'll walk away a very rich man"

As the cab pulled onto the dock, Jack see's his client. He didn't give his name, just hired him. Typical in the mercenary business. Don't want to give trust until it's a good idea.

[Cylarn]

Scott was given a clipboard and a pen by the man. When Jack and Jacob approached, Scott prepared to check them in.

"Names?," he asked.

Meanwhile, Jorge Gallegos and Jimbo Dauterive had just arrived in the same cab. Jimbo walked with a cane and a slight limp, since he had a prosthetic leg and a large cedar walking stick. Jorge, being a friendly man, carried the luggage. The men were wearing the ODUs issued out to the crew of the Dreamcatcher as they approached the ship. Jorge spotted Scott with the clipboard and assumed it was a checklist.

"Jorge Gallegos está aquí," he said in Spanish.

"James Dauterive, but you can call me Jimbo," Jimbo said, speaking in a heavy Cajun accent.

[San Monteriano]

Fortunately, the journey to San Diego hadn't been one of great length, only living in Pasadena, California himself. Bruce had only been contracted by Adler Industries a week prior to the expedition on the S.S. Dreamcatcher for the search of the mythical prehistorical Megalodon, a contract which didn't seem appealing to him besides the amount of money offered. Half was paid upfront, money which he gave to his ex-wife to provide for their children; enough money to sustain them for ten years or more, depending on the rate of consumption. If he wasn't to return, then at least Bruce could take solace in death knowing that his children would be well-cared for. Bruce's yellow cab approached the Port of San Diego, weaving through the streets of the port district before pulling into a car park lined next to the marina, a short distance from the Dreamcatcher itself. Bruce, in the back seat of the cab, reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a brown leather wallet and handing the cabby eighty dollars. "Keep the change." He stoically, opening the door and slamming it shut before the cabby could reply to the ridiculous tip.

Bruce spun round to the boot of the vehicle, pulling it open and lifting out a black-and-red duffle bag and backpack. He slammed the boot shut, walking through the car park and noticing a Dodge Charger and another yellow cab reversing out of a parking space and driving off. Walking down the wooden pathway leading up the marine, Bruce immediately spotted the S.S. Dreamcatcher, a somewhat distinguishable vessel from the other docked ships. In front of the moored ship, six men were talking among each other, walking directly towards them with his duffle bag clutched in his right hand and his backpack firmly between his shoulder blades.

"A nice morning to go fishing hunting, don't ya' think?" He asked slyly, approaching the men with a smirk on his face. "Bruce Nolan, hired security for this...pleasurable cruise."

[Cylarn]

Scott would mark their names off, with only a few more crewmembers and researchers to go.

"NOAA doesn't want you all to kill the Megalodons," the suited man said. "This is purely a research mission."

[San Monteriano]

"Understood, loud and clear; no killing unless threatened." Bruce replied sternly to the suited man, giving him a somewhat cold stare. "I'm not a mercenary, I do have principles." He retorted in a more hostile manner.

[Lancearc]

"Got it. I'd assume as much since this was explained to me as a research mission." he said with a glance towards the man. "Killing one would prove difficult anyway, presumably. Unless we're taking high-class weaponry." he said, recalling that the ship was supposed to have some kind of armory, though he doubted they packed so much power as to kill one without precise shooting.

[Cylarn]

"We have some shotguns, pistols, and 2 semi-automatic rifles," Scott said. "We're not exactly a force to be reckoned with, but I personally requested that we have some weaponry on board. We also have the harpoon, some spear guns, powerhead devices, and other research "weapons"."

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Still jetlagged from the long flight from Europe, Klaus Daimler staggered out of the nearly-empty bus, and took a long look around as he stood in front of the San Diego docks in the half-light of dawn. He slung his duffel bag (full of clothes, extra hats, equipment, and other essentials) over his shoulder, made sure (yet again) his pistol had the safety on, made sure there were no creases in his hat, and then started walking down to the correct pier. While he walked, he reflected on how he'd gotten himself into another shark-hunting expedition so soon after the last one. Last time, they'd lost a man, and there was no way to know if history were going to repeat itself in that respect too. All he could do was his job, and he would do it to the best of his ability, regardless of the danger. That was his mantra.
When he got there at around 5 AM, he noticed that a small group of people had already formed by the gangplank to the ship. He gazed at the Dreamcatcher, and thought:

Hmm... very new-looking, very well-equipped... Doesn't have half the personality that the Belafonte had. Still, it looks a ship up to the task. I hope the same can be said of the crew... and the sub.

Straightening himself to his full height, he marched officiously up to the man who seemed to be in charge of registration for this voyage. When the man looked up at him, Klaus smiled confidently, saluted, and said in a noticeable German accent:
"Klaus Daimler, submarine helmsman and utility crewman, at your service. Also, I assume we can bring our own pistols onboard, or are they to be provided?"

[Lancearc]

"We have some shotguns, pistols, and 2 semi-automatic rifles," Scott said. "We're not exactly a force to be reckoned with, but I personally requested that we have some weaponry on board. We also have the harpoon, some spear guns, powerhead devices, and other research "weapons"."

"That seems about right. I can't imagine we'll need weapons much on this expedition, though you never know eh?" he said, readjusting the backpack on his back. The straps had begun to dig into his shoulder as he was speaking with the men. "So, when are we scheduled to be up and away?" he asked, gazing over at the ship for a closer look than what he had earlier.

[San Monteriano]

"Sounds good, but let's hope we don't need to use them." Bruce replied to Scott; he'd prefer to earn his money easily without much hostilities rather than a possible outcome of the mission, death. Bruce turned, looking up at the ship in an awe, examining the on-board research equipment and the state-of-the-art marine auxiliary transports. "I heard you were in the Army? Where did you serve?" He asked Scott plainly, turning to the Skipper of the research mission with interest into the man's 'former' life in the armed forces.

[Cylarn]

Scott would return the salute, reminding him of his days as a First Sergeant.

"We have an armory, but feel free to carry your own gun," he said, marking Klaus' name off. "And we're heading off around 7-8."

Scott would then give a slight smile as Bruce.

"I was in the Marines," he said. "Fought in Afghanistan and Iraq, but I've been around the world. Retired as a First Sergeant. What about you? Did you serve?"

[Democracy of Miners]

"We have some shotguns, pistols, and 2 semi-automatic rifles," Scott said. "We're not exactly a force to be reckoned with, but I personally requested that we have some weaponry on board. We also have the harpoon, some spear guns, powerhead devices, and other research "weapons"."

That will do just fine if it all hits the fan. There are some unsavory people in the world.

[Cylarn]

"I'm pretty sure most of us have served," Jose said, chuckling. "I flew for the Corps, and I'll fly here."

Jimbo would look down at his left leg, and then back at everyone else.

"I was a Navy SEAL during the Vietnam War. Got the Medal of Honor too," he said. "You can call me a liar, but I always carry that medal with me."

Jimbo would proceed to pull the medal from his blouse pocket. It was in a small display case, along with his ribbon.

[Lancearc]

"I'm pretty sure most of us have served," Jose said, chuckling. "I flew for the Corps, and I'll fly here."

Jimbo would look down at his left leg, and then back at everyone else.

"I was a Navy SEAL during the Vietnam War. Got the Medal of Honor too," he said. "You can call me a liar, but I always carry that medal with me."

Jimbo would proceed to pull the medal from his blouse pocket. It was in a small display case, along with his ribbon.

"Then we can feel a bit safer with servicemen, one a Medal of Honor recipient." he said, gazing upon the medal and ribbon as the former Navy SEAL held it in his hands. "Anyone else we should be expecting before we have to get underway?" Jacob asked, gazing towards the man that had been checking off names on the clipboard.

[Cylarn]

Scott looked over the list and then looked back at the crew.

"We have 5 more people to wait on," he said.

[Youtabonia]

Bailey Sawyer arrives and gets out of his car "Well i'm guessin i have arrived alittle late....I'm Bailey Sawyer i'm a scientest assigned to study the Megalodon."Bailey says. "Make that 4 people to wait on."

[Cylarn]

Scott would mark off Bailey's name on the list.

"4 more people," he said.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

"Am I checked off?" Klaus asked, eager to board the new ship and scout it out.

[Cylarn]

Scott would show him the checklist with his name checked off.

"Y'all can check out the ship," he said.

Jorge and Jimbo would go aboard and put up their gear before walking around the ship in order to understand its layout.

[Lancearc]

At that, Jacob had wasted no time in walking down the dock and boarding the ship they'd be on for quite a period of time and stowing away all of his necessary gear, before taking the time to walk the decks of the ship. He approached the bow of the ship, gazing down into the calm waters of the port before turning to walk down the opposite way, sliding his hand along the guardrail on the edge of the ship as he walked. Guess I'll check out the lower decks soon. he thought as he continued down the deck.

[Neo Arcad]

"Oh, and for the last time, the English don't wear kilts!" Slamming the ignorant cab driver's door, Valerie Alcester took her suitcase, backpack, and a long metal briefcase (or maybe guitar case...?) in tow. She headed for the group of men at the gangplank of the vessel she was to board. They looked like they were mostly military men. Assuming the fellow with the checklist was her go-to point, Valerie headed in that direction. She took a deep breath, and, exhaling, returned to her typically upbeat self, despite the dreadful airplane and taxi rides she'd endured "Valerie Alcester, marine biologist. Am I in the right place for chasing giant sharks?" she asked, upon reaching the informed-looking fellow.

[Cylarn]

Scott looked up from his checklist to see a young woman standing in front of him. Giving a slight smile, he would then hold out his hand to give her a firm handshake.

"Scott Preston. I'm the skipper," he said. "And you are?"

[Sentinel XV]

A rusted 1958 Ford F-100 pulled up beside the S.S. Dreamcatcher's berth in the docks, the motor idling for a moment before being killed. The driver's-side door swung open as a man stepped out of the cab, his weathered, tanned face a testament to countless years spent at sea. He paused for a second, eyes squinting as he looked across the beautiful San Francisco Bay. With a great breath of the salty harbor air, he walked over to the truck's bed and hauled a large canvas travel sack onto his shoulder.

Turning, his shirt would be moved up slightly to reveal a holstered Makarov pistol. The man obviously was not a greenhorn on a boat, and the pistol only served to solidify the image of the salty seadog that he portrayed. The rolled-up sleeves of his ODU blouse revealed a sailor's strong, tanned arms and motley assortment of tattooed. His pants were tucked into medium-height black combat boots. A cigarette, Lucky Strike by the looks of the pack tucked into his chest pocket, hung limp from his lips, the ruddy tip glowing in the midday warmth and a steady current of smoke pouring from the man's mouth.

Approaching a man standing at the loading docks with a clipboard, he would move to shake the fellow's hand in an iron grip.

"Aye, I be Johann Steele. Crewman, at yer service, matey."