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Angels Fall First (IC/Open)

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Kilel
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 190
Founded: Sep 16, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Angels Fall First (IC/Open)

Postby Kilel » Tue Jan 28, 2020 9:10 pm

Angels Fall First

OOC
BGM - In Universe

♫ Some folks are born, made to wave the Flag♫
♫Oooh they're red, white and blue!♫
♫And when the band plays 'Hail to the Chief'---♫



"God dammit, Schafer. Why do you always make us listen to this ancient-ass music? Can't we play something else over the net?" I hear my pilot groan from the cockpit of my dropship. I hadn't exactly noticed the music playing over the local net. Some ancient song from before the Dark Ages. Schafer, the pilot of one of the other dropships in my group, happens to be a connoisseur of antique music. I've been more concerned with... staring blankly out the window at the early Nevada Sunrise. The day's new light casts a steep shadow across the desert, barely illuminating the sands. Something about it just kind of resonates with me, puts me at ease, you know?

"Hey man, do you know how rare this track is? It's a damned miracle it even survived the Dog Years," Dog Years was a bit of slang I recognized. It was basically a lazy way of referring to the Dark Ages, "I might even have the last copy of this song in the world!"

The inside of my dropship, Raska 3-2, is relatively quiet and still. My friends - my... team - are all checking their gear and brushing up on the intel for this op. I've neglected to do so until now. Maybe I should give it a once over before the chief calls the drop.

"Raska 3-3, if you don't turn that shit down, I'm gonna plant you on that control stick and fly your Condor myself," The platoon commander growls over the net as he tries to clear traffic for the in-flight briefing.

"Five-by-Five, Sir." I hear Schafer respond, disappointed.

"That's what I thought. Alright Raska 3. G.O.D. big heads have us out here to do one thing and one thing only. Put down an insurrection looking to destabilize the region while Morkt is busy in the East. Innies are a couple hundred strong, so that's why Lord Foucault is having G.O.D. send Raska instead of a Guardian Angel team. Too many psychos down there for a small op. That's where the Angels come in. Raska 1 and Raska 2 are on separate deployments in the Canadian wilds, so we're on our own here.

"So what's the plan, Chief? Gen-Oh make any tactical suggestions?" one of my teammates, a young woman with short dirty blonde hair, asks over the net, shifting her weapon in her lap. G.O.D. and "Gen-Oh" were shorthand terms for the "General Operations Division" which handled most Angel deployments.

"Well," the platoon commander starts, "the area the innies are camped out in is surrounded by plateaus, so Gen-Oh recommends a heavy duty wake up call, that's you 3-3. After the initial salvo is finished, 3-1 and 3-2 will proceed on foot while 3-3 and 3-4 provide sniper support from the plateaus. 3-2 Actual!"

I snap to attention, "Sir?"

"I want your team pushing hard here. I want to make it back home for lunch today, you hear?"

"Sir."

"Alright, Raska 3. We touch down in---"

The platoon commander is cut off by the blaring of incoming alarms within the dropships. He screams over the net, "What the hell is going on!? Give me a Sitrep NOW!"

Suddenly a series of explosions rocks my transport violently, sending my team and I stumbling over and onto the floor of the Condor. I strike my head on the floor fairly hard, disorienting me momentarily.

"Raska 3-3 is down! They're going in hard! They're on fi---"

A second explosion cuts out the rest of my pilot's transmission, but from the sound of it, I can gather that Schafer's transport has just exploded. I hear someone else screaming over the net as more and more explosions erupting in the sky around us shake the entire structure of the ship.

"All wings, evasive action! Gain altitude! Get out of their range!"

"This is Raska 3-4! My starboard engine is damaged, I can't climb!

"Where the hell did they come from?!"

"How did they know we were coming!?"

Chaos fills the local net as I try to pick myself up before one decisive explosion rips off the port side door of my Condor. One of my men flies out through the gap as our ship begins to spin out of control, the blonde girl from before turns to me and reaches out her hand, holding tightly to an emergency handle.

"Phenom! Phenom! Wake up! Phenom!"

Orbit Above Earth
Heaven - Space Station - Guardian Angel Academy Main Auditorium
1500 Hours GMT - November 28th


"Phenom. Phenom! Phen, you jackass, wake UP!"

Phenom jolts awake in his chair, "What!? What!? I'm awake! Who..?! Oh... Lachesis.. it's just you... Wh.. what time is it? Is it almost time for me to go on stage?"

"Almost. Dreaming about your D-Day, again, huh?" Lachesis asks, leaning on a nearby column. D-Day was another piece of slang that had recently made its way into the vernacular. Unlike the historical beach landing from centuries back, this new term was used to describe the day and Anomaly's abilities were either developed or discovered. Phenom's time was... violent, to say the least.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Phen, I've known you my entire life... I can tell. Plus, you're crying. And you don't cry." She pointed out. She bent over, hand outstretched, and wipe the tears from Phenom's eyes with her thumb. "You're too hard headed to show your emotions properly when you're conscious."

"Thanks, mom," Phenom scoffed tiredly, "Yeah. it was the usual. Thanks for waking me by the way."

"That'ssss my job!" Lachesis replied with a smile, "Now get back on your feet, kid. Go out there and show that crowd what you're made of. Just don't tell them you wrote your own script this time," she said, grinning mischievously.

Phenom groaned slightly at Lachesis's ribbing and straightened his ceremonial gown as the speaker on the stage began to announce him.



Image

(This image is merely a placeholder, and will be changed soon)
BGM


"...And without further ado, it is my great honor to introduce to you all, Lord Phenom Ortus!"

A thunderous applause echoes the crowd, and Phenom takes takes the stage. He surveys the crowd before him. 'Huh.... not as big as last years crowd. Oh well.'. As he somewhat slowly shambles to the podium before him, he begins to wonder what might have caused the lower turnout in crowd members. Perhaps it was nothing. He takes his place at the podium and looks up, beginning to open his mouth.

“Is that really Phenom? He looks so… run down.” someone whispers from the crowd of Guardian Angel graduates.

At this, Phenom stops and cocks his hand, pointing to the source of the whisper.

“I heard that,” he quips weakly, lacking conviction. This prompts a small chuckle from the audience before he waves them down.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Heaven, and welcome to tonight’s induction ceremony!”

He sighs briefly, as if that one sentence alone exhausted him of all of his energy. He hangs his head for just a moment before perking back up with a sharp inhale, as if his coffee had just hit him. One might notice a glint of life shining in his dark eyes now, revealing that they are in fact a very shocking blue, though he seems to be staring vacantly ahead of him.

“It has been a long and arduous thirteen years since the resolution of the Morkt Crisis. Weird name, I know. Don’t ask me, I didn’t name him,” this draws a few scattered chuckles, but he continues, “When I took up the mantle of Lord seven years ago, I made a vow to all of you. A vow to make sure we would have the best, the brightest, and the bravest that we could find working around the clock to return Earth to prosperity.”

He turns his gaze up to the larger crowd in the back, behind the graduating class, “And ever since that day, my staff and I have done everything in our power to make sure the surface had the support and resources that it needs, all while maintaining our secrecy from the world. My predecessor was far too keen on maintaining our Laissez-Faire policy of intervention in the world below, and we’ve all seen how that turned out. But tonight, we are not here to disparage relics of the past.”

A few more scattered chuckles punctuate his statement as he continues, his voice now echoing throughout the auditorium.

“Tonight, we are here to celebrate the induction of this years ‘Best, Brightest, and Bravest.’ Tonight, we have gathered to welcome the warriors before me, young and old alike, into the esteemed ranks of the Guardian Angels. These fine men and women have gone through some of the most gruelling training that we as an organization can offer, in an effort to crush coal into diamonds. And looking at them today, I feel I can comfortably say that we have succeeded.”

“Please,” he shouts out, a bit removed from the microphone, “join me in welcoming into the fold… our new Guardian Angels!”

The crowd behind erupts into applause, and Phenom steps back to the row of military commanders and high level officials behind him as the graduation ceremony began in earnest.

Orbit Above Earth
Heaven - Space Station - Phenom's Personal Quarters
1700 GMT

Image

~2 HOURS LATER~
BGM


"UUUUUGH IT'S FINALLY OVER!" Phenom groaned deeply as he threw himself down onto the bed in his personal quarters, Lachesis following shortly behind him. He stared out his window at the inky abyss surrounding the space station that he'd called home for the past 20 years of his life, pondering the enormity of it all, and his own undeniable insignificance.

"Lachesis?" Phenom began as the girl took a seat at the table nearby, "You ever question if the work we do is worth it? I mean... just look at... all that nothing out there."

"Phen, you're waxing philosophical again. Have you been getting enough sleep?" Lachesis chided. She knocked on the wall beside her and a panel opened up, revealing a stash of drinks within. She fished out a bottled soft drink and knocked on the wall again.

"No. With Morkt Syndrome out and about, how can I? We still don't know what it is, and every time we've brought a patient in, any trace of the infection is gone before we can figure something out." Phenom groaned in defeat. Morkt Syndrome was a new psychological affliction that caused people to suddenly lose control of themselves. Normally rational and reasonable people would turn into psychopaths overnight, and many would leave a trail of corpse's in their wake. Its infection method was unknown, but the rate was extremely slow for the time being, mostly being limited to elders and the already mentally frail. It was named after the mad scientist of years past for the fact that some patients expressed sympathy for the madman, some even espousing his ideals of terracide.

"You spend too much time up. Keep poring over those books and you're gonna collapse on the job!" Lachesis began to take a swig of the drink she had procured, setting it down on the table. At the same time, she used her free hand to swipe over the table, summoning a hardlight keyboard and screens. "Look, Phen. We've got a situation brewing in Appalachia. More of the same. Strays setting up shop and muscling in on other people. Extortion, control, raiding, larceny." Lachesis flipped through a multitude of screens as she spoke, sailing a number over to Phenom for him to inspect more closely, "We caught this group early, though. Looks like they've only managed to set up one major base camp, and have only gained a few dozen recruits."

"Set up a GA team to deploy and clear it out. I'd prefer to keep the Eastern US as stable as possible," Phenom groaned tiredly, "I'll get ready for the briefing."

"Ooooooooooooh no," Lachesis insisted, "You're going to sleep. I can handle the briefing. I'll take care of this and stop by the store for something to eat, alright?"

"Steak please..."

"Steak it is. Get some sleep, I'll be back in a couple of hours."
Last edited by Kilel on Tue Jan 28, 2020 9:25 pm, edited 6 times in total.
I don't even play this game anymore lol

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RaineTrifles
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 2
Founded: Jan 04, 2020
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Introducing Interpol

Postby RaineTrifles » Wed Jan 29, 2020 12:47 pm

INTERPOL (ALAN ALASTAIRE)

(PLAY MOZART’S REQUIEM WHILE READING THIS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zi8vJ_lMxQI)
Alan Alastaire casually sat on a sofa in front of a three panel bay window twirling some ice in a glass filled with whiskey. Beside him lay an unconscious young woman, her face bruised badly, and her badly injured body bandaged with torn linen cloth to stop the bleeding. Behind the sofa the body of a hitman lightly bled on the floor unconscious, his hands tied tight with thin wire that dug into his skin. It was his agents Idea that Alan should go on a 'leave of absence', and he was already regretting it. The hotel room’s phone had been destroyed by a intense fight, and an emp had destroyed his laptop, which was now fried and with same smoke coming out from it. Alan’s tired eyes were set on the sun setting in the war torn, yet beautiful city of paris, france.

Work, a staple part of his life habits, would never truly leave his side, as he all too knew well. This time he feared that work following him here would bring more trouble than usual. He owed this woman, a recent recruit for interpol, a debt. Alan had expected the assassin, of course. He had suspected there was a mole in the agency when she reported to him of something shady going on. What he didn’t expect however, was for the assassin to be one of his own agents, someone who had been loyal to him for more than 7 years. Someone he had let into the room himself, an old friend who had been chosen to be his security detail. It was a miracle that the recruit decided to follow along, against all logical reason, against his orders, to take down the traitor when they appeared, as she had suspected they would. An old antique radio in the room played a solemn and rare classic tune, making Alan's eyes dull more as he sipped more of the whiskey in slightly bigger gulps.

The lights flickered occasionally, and water dripped from the multiple bullet holes in the thin roof of the room. which happened to be in the top floor of the old and worn down french building. His clothes were unruly with his own blood stained several areas on his shirt, slightly deep grazings of missed bullets. A deep hand grip bruise had formed around his neck as well, a reminder of when the hitman got desperate and tried to choke him to death moments before the woman had showed up, knocking him out when she showed up out of nowhere, startling the hitman. Still, there was one more thing to solve. It was the original reason he had gone on 'vacation' in the first place. Everything that had transpired so far, except for some small adjustments in the plan, had gone to plan. Now all they were missing was the guest of honor. It had been hours, and Alan waited patiently for the suspect to reveal themselves.

He slightly winced at his hurting throat and lightly touched his neck as he coughed. The doors to the hotel room opened just as Alan stood to his feet, the song continuing to play. Five men pointed guns to Alan’s head from a distance, keeping close to their boss, an elder man, as they audibly reloaded. Alan calmly poured himself another full cup of whiskey. Alan glanced back at the man and gave him a cold stare, then looked toward the window again as the doors closed again on their own. One of the five gunmen scanned the room for listening devices or radio frequencies nearby.

“You sure took your time getting here.” Alan muttered irritably. The gunman scanning the room nodded to the Older male silently, giving him the signal the room the emp had worked well.

“After the attempt on your life I thought I’d have to chase you down. How is the whiskey? Is it to your liking?” The older male chuckled as he approached the bottle of whiskey, pouring it into another cup on a desk in the room.

“The Auchentoshan 1978, it’s a classic.” Alan spun the drink in his glass and stared at it in contempt.

“Yes. A true man appreciates the classics. I’d heard you’re particularly fond of it.”

“Yes, through your spy, no doubt.” Alan scoffed as he drank it all down and glanced over at his unconscious traitor friend and hitman on the floor, putting the glass down roughly on a nearby table in the room. “I’ve thought it over and the only conclusion I can come up with is that you planned for this situation all along.”

“It’s possible that I enjoy a good game of cat and mouse, but I don’t like to give my prey too much breathing room to run from me.” The older male commented, spotting the woman on the sofa. He raised a brow, then gave a wry chuckle. “Still, I’m surprised you hadn’t tried to leave this room.”

“Are you suggesting I had an option?” Alan questioned him while looking out the bay window. “If I had tried to leave the room, you would have had the doors lock automatically and poison the air in the room regardless.”

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” The older male stared in astonishment. Alan pointed to the odd looking radio in the room.

“Mozart's Requiem. It keeps replaying and there is no pause button. I take it the choice of music is symbolic.” Alan pointed out. "The rest of the room is completely outdated as well, but that door is new, and that radio was protected from the emp blast."

The older male gave a low chuckle and then laughed louder. He gave a sinister grin and brought out a remote with a blinking light. “You’re an interesting man, Alan Alastaire. You're not the least bit concerned that you walked straight into a trap. How long have you known I had my eye on you?”

“I had a hunch, but I wasn't sure until now.” Alan sat on the chair near the table in the room. "You've gone to great lengths for a conversation with me."

“A man in your position deserved nothing less. If I had treated you like my rivals, you’d have slipped out of my fingers and I'd have been trapped instead.” The older male chuckled sinisterly. “Either way, I win. If you'd had died, Interpol will lose their footing and give us leeway to bury the evidence in that time. And if you lived, I would try to convince you to sign an agreement to cooperate with us. All investigations into our organization will cease, and we would have provided you information on all other crime syndicates.”

“You want us to make your son's case go away, I suppose.” Alan tapped a pen on the table, while looking down at his glass. "The serial international murders?"

“They were… unfortunate, and unintended. My son grew an attachment to the women.” The older man’s smile faded and his expression became serious. “I was never a good father. Still, I can do this much for him.”

“A stain on the phantom syndicate, if I’m not mistaken. You’d carefully cover your tracks all this time, and then this happens. If anyone else had done it you would have thrown them into the line of fire, but since it’s your only heir…” Alan met the older man’s gaze sternly. “I wonder what would happen if we looked further into this matter, what other glaring evidence would we find, Uriah Hyde? Enough to put you all away for good?” He questioned, observing the defiant look in the older male’s eyes. “Interpol would not stoop so low as to work with international crime lords, at least not while I'm in command. But you already knew that.” Alan gave a stoic expression.

“It is a pity to waste intelligence. If any other was in your position a simple bribe would have sufficed. But you are a man with an iron fist and unchanging morals.” The older male narrowed his gaze. Alan looked to him with a serious expression. “It would be wise of you to reconsider your position as of this moment, however..”

“So you plan to use me as a hostage to force Interpol to comply, but you figured you would attempt to reason with me first.” Alan stood from the chair and moved over to the window. "Did you think I would really agree to your ridiculous demands?"

“Ah, a rejection. And here I thought I had proposed a reasonable request. Do you have any children, Alastaire?” The older man tapped on the top of his cane.

“If I had any, I would let them suffer the consequences of their crimes. It would teach them to be better human beings.” Alan finished the glass of whiskey. “You’re not helping your son. You’re only trying to absolve yourself from any blame and keep your ‘phantom’ syndicate ‘blameless’ so you can continue making money from the blood of innocents.”

“I’ll be frank. I had hoped you would not choose the fool’s way out.” The older male frowned as he kept his finger close to the button on the remote. One of his men helped put a gas mask on his face, taking hold of their own gas masks. “I had the courtesy of sending your agency the conditions of your release or death hours ago, just in case you’d decided to refuse me. They have until the recording of Mozarts Requiem ends once and for all.“ The song began to come to a close and Alan remained calm pouring himself the last cup of whiskey. When the end of the song came the older male moved his finger to press the button. However all motion in his hand came to a stop when Uriah hyde's phone rang. One of the guards picked up the phone for him.

“It’s the Agency.” They told him with a nod.

“Put them on speaker.” The older man ordered. An odd song played in the call, and suddenly his men seemed changed. “What the-?” His eyes widened suddenly when several gunshots fired from two of his men shot down the other three without warning. A strong hand from one of two remaining men gripped the older man's wrist for the hand holding the remote and twisted it, breaking it. The other grabbed the remote in mid-air before it could fall. Uriah Hyde yelled out in pain and held to his hand in agony, falling to a knee. The man who broke the older male’s wrist twisted the criminal’s arm behind his back and immediately restrained him.
“Y-you… how dare you?! Unhand me!!!!” The older male yelled angrily and in pain to his men.

"I made a wager, on these circumstances." Alan stated to the older man who looked to him perplexed. "Of which, two outcomes were possible. Option 1, I'd die before my undercover agents in your guard would receive the call to terminate your operation here. Option 2, the call would arrive seconds before you gave the order and they would restrain you in record time." Alan stated with a glint in his eye. "It was a close call, but I won this time after all." He cringed at his aching neck.

“You-!!” The older male struggled to speak as he was pinned to the ground. The two men that betrayed him replied to the voice on the phone in code as Alan picked up the woman and placed her over his shoulder. The doors to the hotel room were kicked down since they were locked, revealing a small group of armed policemen and an agent from Interpol.

“Chief Alastaire, an ambulance is on the way.” The agent stated.

“I’m alright. Her, however..” He carefully handed the injured woman over to an armed policeman. “See to it that she gets proper treatment. You have everything you need, then?” Alan questioned.

“Yes, sir.” The agent nodded to the guards that had betrayed the older man as they dragged the restrained man up to his feet. The traitor that had attacked alan was taken away. “We have access to all their data and captured most of his associates. His son went off the grid, but it’s only a matter of time now before we find him.”

“Looks like acting as the distraction was worth it after all.” Alan could sense a feeling of hatred emanating from the older man and he smirked. “Good work.”

“There is one more matter…”

“Hmm?” Alan questioned.

“A hovercraft crash over Connecticut Communes. Some backwater community in the middle of nowhere. I was told to alert you of this.”

“A hovercraft?” Alan glanced back slightly. He momentarily leaned on the doorframe of the hotel room door, closing his eyes tight.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright, sir?”

“If you ask me one more time I’ll demote you.” Alan answered in an irritated fashion, between gritted teeth . The agent became silent. “…Tell the main office to send the details of the crash to me personally.”

“Yes, Chief Alastaire.” The agent nodded. "Ah, one more thing." The agent stopped Alan again in the hall as he left the room. "It's about the MKS..."




LADY LUCK / LILAC / DAISUKE

A chocolate skinned woman with blue hair, wearing a lavish fur coat smoked a cigar calmly in the dark steel-walled room, her sunglasses reflecting the news that was being displayed on the tv.

“On today’s topic, local philanthropists recently donated a large influx of highly anticipated medications to low income citizens. No side effects have been reported, and citizens are grateful for the donation as more children are seen playing on the streets.” The woman changed the channel and frowned at the chaotic news displayed there.

“…and now we have a breaking news flash for the citizens of the communes. This was filmed three hours ago in the residential Connecticut Communes. An unbelievable sighting of an old relic from times past. Here’s our reporter Ted with the story.” The newsroom switched to a full view of the video. A reporter frantically tried to get closer to the scene of a hovercraft crash.

“We’re here in Connecticut Communes, where a hovercraft has been reported to have crashed into the streets.” Fire burned brightly behind the reporter as another post explosion occurred, startling the reporter as firefighters urged that he leave the area.
“It’s the first sighting of a hovercraft in years, bringing back dreaded memories of the morkt crisis. Citizens are concerned that it’s appearance could mean the resurgence of the tyrant… Sir, excuse me, sir-!” The insistent reporter shoved a camera into a local law enforcer’s face when he was pushed out of the area of danger. “What do you have to say about all this?”

“You really shouldn’t be here!” The law enforcement agent said as he prepared a blockade.

“But sir, our viewers need to know- what does the appearance of this craft mean for the area?” The reporter insisted.

“We can’t confirm or deny anything at this point. We’re just trying to contain the situation. So far all we know is, the only casualty inside was the pilot of the craft. Because of how badly burned the body is.. it will be impossible to identify it under ordinary measures.” The law enforcement agent shooed the reporter away, the camera turning towards the citizens watching in fear from a distance. The reporter approached a frightened mother and her young son who stood by their front door. The boy was fascinated just by the sight of advanced tech from the past.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” The reporter called to her. Everyone else in the crowd scattered at the sight of the news reporter, but she remained there in shock, the fire reflecting in her eyes. “Uh.. Ma’am? Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“She can’t hear you.” Her son struggled to get her to release the tight grip she had on his arm. “Mom, let go! You’re hurting me!” The son whined as the mother was mumbling something incoherent and trembling. The boy pinched her repeatedly to try to snap her out of it.

“What’s wrong with her?” The reporter asked the child.

“She freezes up sometimes when she sees tech like that.” The boy shrugged and pointed to the hovercraft with his free arm. “Woah! That’s a cool camera!” The boy’s eyes shone.

“Were you both here when it happened?” The reporter asked the boy.

“Saw it from the window!” The boy lit up. “It went like ZOOM down from the sky, then it went KABLOEY when it fell. Look, this here is a piece of it that went through my window!” The boy took a dented Metal shard out of his pocket to show his prize to the news, which zoomed in on the image. “Some lady made it out of there. I tried telling those badge guys but they thought I was seeing things-”

It was then that the tv turned off. The woman in the room put out the cigar and sighed, uncrossing her legs as she stood to her feet. “Damn it, Luck…” Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked out of the room and pulled out her phone to answer it. “Lilac Speaking.” The woman cursed beneath her breath after hearing the response. “I’m on my way.”

Two well dressed men in suits stared as they leaned with their backs to the brick walls in the alleyway, staring at the red-headed beauty with a bandaged leg slowly walking towards the secret entrance they were assigned to protect. Wary of the woman and her dangerous expression, they reached for their guns.
With a finger snap, the red haired woman released the locks on both of the short swords hiding in the long sleeves of her coat. She used the blades to swiftly slice their bullet’s in half as they shot at her, then blocked the bullets until they ran out of ammo. As they were about to reload, she was suddenly in front of them, a sharp tip of each sword to each man’s neck.

“Name’s luck. That’s no way to treat a lady, you know.” The woman smirked as their expressions darkened.
“Last man they recruited put up a fight at least. You aren’t nearly up to par.” She said in a low and dangerous tone, narrowing her eyes with a slim smile as she tilted her head, pressing the sword tip to one of the men’s necks.

The bulletproof door slid open and Luck looked behind the men, retracting her swords with a certain hand movement.
“Bullying the recruits again?” The sky blue haired african american woman in a lavish fur coat showed up at the door, raising a brow. She looked to the men and motioned for them to let luck pass.

“But Lilac, he told us not to let anyone through here-“ The men argued with the blue haired woman. She grit her teeth and her eyes glowed gold as she glared at them and held a hand out, closing it into a tight fist, and the men held in a small shout of pain, gripping to a recent severe injury they had suffered but neglected to treat.

“Go on through…” The men moved out of the way. Lilac’s eyes stopped glowing and their pain stopped, followed by their sighs of relief. Lady Luck followed her inside the secret fortress. It was unnaturally void of the cobra gang’s members. Then again, Luck had noticed a lot of ‘locals’, ‘patrolling’ the streets on her way here, acting natural. Lilac’s paranoia knew no bounds and she had eyes on every corner of the neighborhood, watching for signs of trouble since Luck’s crash incident in the neighborhood.

“Why do you insist on messing with my men?” Lilac kept looking forward. “You know you can use the back door. I gave you the code for it.”

“Because it’s fun~.” Luck walked a bit faster to look Lilac in the eye. Lilac rolled her eyes at looked shoved her slightly aside. “So where’s the kingpin? Ordinarily he’d come out to stop me.”

“JUSTIN, is out on an errand...” Lilac opened the door to her clinic in the fortress, closing the door behind luck.
Luck cringed in more pain suddenly when she sat down on a bench in the room.
“You made a lot of noise on the news with the hovercraft crash.”
Lilac unwrapped the bandage from Lucks leg to inspect it.
“Got no sense of danger in you, do you? The only thing that should come out of that accident are two dead bodies. Not to mention the attention you’ll get from this. You crashed in my commune, of all places. Hell, luck, if they find me here because of you…” She commented, eyeing a large piece of glass embedded in luck’s wound. She reached for a sturdy pair of forceps after putting on lab gloves.

“Old geezer had Morkt era tech stored away. He was expecting me… ah! Shit, that hurts, Lilac! Give a girl a warning!” Luck grit her teeth as Lilac plucked the glass out of luck’s leg roughly in frustration. She eyed the red-haired girl in disbelief, putting aside the bloody glass on a table. How Luck walked all the way here with that injury was a mystery to her.

“You’re sure you weren’t followed?” Lilac questioned seriously. Luck remained silent. Lilac frowned, her eyes glowing gold as she put her hand over the wound and healed it, standing to throw away the glass and clean the forceps. “Did my best to have the crew silence the witnesses with bribes, but the news got to some kid who opened their mouth about seeing you. You can’t stay here. Got enough trouble as it is keeping a low profile on my own. With the witness’s report you can be sure as hell that HVN will be overseeing the incident.”

“Wasn’t planning to. Got somewhere to be.” Lady Luck straightened herself as she stood.
Lady Luck tested her ability, making her hand invisible and phasing it through a solid object. It shorted out temporarily, concerning Lilac, but she remained silent as she reached for a usb drive near the laptop. Lilac offered it to Luck without a word. “What’s this?”

“The information you asked for, last time you were here.” Lilac placed it in Luck’s hand. When Luck was about to put it in her pocket, lilac gripped her wrist.
“Just.. be careful.”

“It’s not like you to be scared, Lilac.” Luck pulled her wrist away from Lilac’s grip.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” Lilac’s brows furrowed. “It’d be a damn shame to lose you over this. Waste of talent.” Her voice became quieter and more serious.

“Thank you for this. Hope to see you soon.” Luck frowned at Lilac, wearing a cold expression again. She headed towards the door. Lilac pressed her hand on the scanner to allow for it to open. Luck quickly walked through the hall.

“Hey, Asshat! You forgot something.” Lilac tossed a set of keys to luck, whom caught them in her hands. She leaned on the doorframe and crossed her arms. “And for the love of all that’s decent, take the back door this time.”

“A gift for me? You shouldn’t have.” Luck teased.

“You wish. I don’t want HVN showing up on my doorstep looking for you. Justin had been working on it for a while, so I could get around without being seen. It’s got a stealth setting built into it that conceals you and the motorbike with a background mirroring-invisibility effect. Bring it back in one piece when it’s safe. He’ll die of heartbreak if you kill his baby out there before he has a chance to enhance it.”

“How nice. Guess this makes us friends.” Luck smirked as she held out her hands in front of her face to catch the helmet that Lilac lunged at her. Luck moved the helmet aside and snickered as Lilac walked off.

“Fuck you.” Lilac held a hand up with her middle finger up momentarily before she stopped at the clinic doorframe.
“You should hurry. Angels or Agents will be crawling all over the place soon. Both of which spell bad news for us.” She rolled her eyes when luck gave her another cold stare in response. Lilac entered the clinic, the steel door closing noiselessly behind her. .

Luck was about to leave when her powers shorted out suddenly and the helmet went through her hands and fell to the floor. She cringed at the physical pain that went through her body at the moment and gripped her upper arms.
“3 down… 5 to go. And my luck running out… Guess I gotta hurry.” She sighed after she felt back to normal and put on the motorcycle helmet, tucking her hair into the helmet before leaving out the back door.


....5 WEEKS LATER....

A splash of ice cold water to Daisuke’s face startled the teen and he gasped for breath as he awoke, his dimly open eyes unable to see through the blindfold. Tied to a chair, blindfolded, and stuck in some sort of rubber full-body straightjacket, the sound of water dripping in the silence only made him more nervous as a gun was pointed to his forehead and reloaded. Pain seared through his body from the bullet wound in his shoulder, being pressed tight by the straight jacket.

“Damned Kid. Got your whole life ahead of you, yet you behave like you’ve got a death wish... Now tell me, where is the usb drive?” The man’s voice was violent as he moved away the gun and kicked him in the chest, knocking Daisuke to the ground still tied in the chair. Daisuke gasped for breath as he felt his artificially grown heart stop for a second, then continued to beat hard in his chest sporadically.

“Don't know... what you're talking about.” Daisuke managed to speak through the pain, coughing out blood. The man used his foot to move daisuke’s chair sideways roughly so he wouldn’t choke on his blood.

“You’re lucky they want you alive, kid. The payout will make up for the loss of my men..” The man’s voice angrily muttered. Daisuke let out a scream in pain when the man shot him in the leg. “...and this will make up for all the trouble you’ve given me. Doctors will patch you up. You’ll live.” He sneered at the teen. It was then that Daisuke heard more gunshots and screams from the distance. The man cursed aloud as someone burst into the room.

“BOSS! RUN!” One of his subordinates yelled. Daisuke heard the body drop.

“Shit… How did She-!” The man’s voice suddenly turned fearful as he harshly whispered. His footsteps were light as he carefully walked in the eerie silence.
“L-Long time no see!” The man yelled out to the air. “I don’t know what prompted this, but surely we can work this out.”

“Surprised to see me…? I suppose you thought I’d be dead by now, you bastard.” A woman’s voice echoed in the room from every direction. Her tone sent shivers down his spine.

“...Can you blame me, Luck?” The man yelled angrily now, shooting at walls randomly. His eyes darted to and fro. “You know how it is in this business. Important thing is you’re still alive. You can’t kill me, you need me. Besides, Lilac Cobra wouldn't be happy-” He gave a shout of excruciating pain suddenly accompanied by a stabbing sound and Daisuke heard the man’s gun drop to the floor. The woman's voice was clearly in the room now as she spoke up.

"Lilac found out you'd been working behind her back and doing crap she hates. All the recent locations where they'd been prepared for me, it’s no wonder. Should have known you were cooperating with the ones I’m trying to erase from the planet. Too bad you didn’t wager your life on the right person. I would’ve kept you around just a little while longer.” Luck whispered loudly in the man’s ear and gave an evil snicker. Daisuke’s blood ran cold when he heard the icy tone of the woman’s soft spoken voice as she whispered loud enough for him to hear. The man’s heavy body fell to the floor and the click of her now audible boots approached Daisuke.

Daisuke struggled to try to free himself from the chair. “What’s this? A captive?” She pulled the blindfold off of his eyes roughly and gave Daisuke a fake smile as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room. Blood decorated her showy clothes and small spots of blood were on her face. Daisuke stared in silence, sweat dripping down his head as she knelt down to his level and tilted her head slightly to look at him. She gave him an icy smile. “Relax kid. I’m not going to hurt you.” She cut the restraints on the rubber straightjacket and the ropes tying him to the chair with her blood stained Kodachi sword.
Daisuke admired the blade, albeit horrified by all the violence he had been exposed to in the last 24 hours.

“Damn. I knew he was into some weird shit, but human trafficking... and whatever the fuck this is..” Luck commented as she stared at the weird rubber materials being used to keep the teen tied down and observed him as he struggled to stand. She caught the teen in her arms when the wound in his leg wouldn’t let him stand. She sat the teen down on a desk chair in the room momentarily and tore a piece of her shirt to bandage the wound hastily, then began to quickly go through the documents in the file cabinets.

“Who are..?” Daisuke struggled to keep his eyes open, his heart beating violently.

“I'll pretend I didn't hear you ask me that.” Luck answered stoically. Her expression changed to mischief when she found what she needed in the file drawer. “Looks like our guy has been cashing in on some juicy deals. Here’s what he’d been hiding from me.. Names and locations… And this file-, your face is in one of these. Lucky for you, I got ahold of you first before HE got his grubby little hands on you.” She took a quick glance at Daisuke then at the picture. “Damn... you look like shit compared to this.” She muttered as she quickly closed the file and packed it into a bag she had over her shoulder, throwing in some more files before uploading all the computer files to the usb drive lilac had given her. When she finished she grabbed the teen by the arm and pulled him up to stand, putting his arm over her shoulder.

“You got a family?” Luck questioned Daisuke, who was still in pain. Daisuke shook his head silently, the world around him spinning. “Listen, I’m not a friend of the law, so I'll just drop you off in front of a clinic or something.-“ Luck froze suddenly, and she looked ahead in complete shock. “What the-?!” She said beneath her breath. Daisuke looked ahead spotting another male standing a short distance away. As she was about to speak, a gun reloaded behind them. “Fucking Hell-” Luck cursed out-loud and bit down her lip to brace for the impact as she shoved the teen away from her. She hardly had time to push Daisuke aside when the gunshot rang loud from behind them. As Daisuke fell to the ground he could see a splash of blood in the air in slow motion when the woman was shot. Her body fell to the ground with a thud. Daisuke's artificial heart couldn't take much more at this point. He clutched to his chest with his good arm and took a shallow gasp for air, his vision failing him before everything went black.
Last edited by RaineTrifles on Wed Feb 12, 2020 11:36 pm, edited 16 times in total.

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WizardMegumin
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 5
Founded: Jan 05, 2020
New York Times Democracy

Postby WizardMegumin » Sun Feb 02, 2020 1:12 pm

Shenandoah River


A small puttering of engine echoed amidst the running water and chirping bird as a battered but functional RV rolled across the relatively serene countryside next to the Shenandoah River. Within it is one lone driver, Hilda Hazevale, who was whistling to the tune of Telephone Number by Junko Ohashi. It was a several hundred year old song, but the tape works and there hasn't been a decent hit for a while anyway. Beggars can't be choosers: the one concept Hilda couldn't possibly refute.

Hilda's gaze slowly turned to the environment as she turned to the right, knowing that the road beyond is straight. She's read the records and heard from the elders of the colony about the battles that took place near the former capital of the United States; battles that decimated the region and rendered it sterile. And yet, with the abundance of flora and fauna, nature proves its' triumph once again... that is, until another war happens.

The song switched to I Love You So by the same artist when the puttering started to die down. Hilda cursed; this wasn't the first time the car suddenly broke down, and they're all caused by the same problem: power failure. It's hard to come across gasoline fuel that powered centuries-old vehicles, so Hilda improvised; reverse-engineering early Morkt-era military fuel to create a weak but nigh eternal fusion reactor that could power a vehicle such as Hilda's RV. For the past couple weeks however, the dear old reactor's been having hiccups. Hilda could temporarily solve whatever's causing the reactor to stop, but she had a feeling that the reactor will need to be replaced soon... with the nearest known junkyard several dozens of miles away.

Hilda leaped out of the driver seat and opened the hood to find a plume of black smoke. Great, another failure in the cooling factor that caused the failsafe to trigger. Not a difficult matter to fix at all; just rather annoying. She would have to first take the reactor out; a difficult feat considering it was overheating only a minute ago. Fortunately, Hilda kept a pair of thick leather gloves for the occasion, so the reactor was safely placed on the ground. Then, she began re-calibrating the fan cycle and let the reactor cool down. This process takes hours; precious time that could expose Hilda to dangers of the wilderness. They could be dangerous beasts, sudden change in weather, or even worse: Strays, mutants vying for control over what little resources they could obtain. Miscreants and raiders who, even now, are lying in wait to ambush the seemingly oblivious woman...
Last edited by WizardMegumin on Sun Feb 02, 2020 2:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Monfrox
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33506
Founded: Mar 25, 2011
Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Mon Feb 03, 2020 5:05 am

Though most of America had been reduced to a waste, the perseverance of the people and mankind was still ever prevalent. Riley still held that in awe even when she was wandering the muddy streets looking for a decent meal. Much of the old ways had come back and now it seemed like America was due for a modern retelling of the Wild West. Between everything, it was as close as she had seen to anything else she had learned about before. At least HVN didn't skimp on the history of the world, that much she was thankful for. Well, that and her training.

It had been three years since Riley had turned in her stripes, her gear, and her uniform. Since then, Riley had been on the move trying to do more for herself and also for others when it was required of her. She had become known as "Misfit", foregoing her real name in an effort to keep HVN off her trail if they ever suddenly decided to persecute her. She kept eyes in the back of her head for the majority of the first year, and the second year she became complacent just enough to recognize the difference between things she should pay attention to and things that were just normal. She wasn't as jumpy but she still had her wits about her. Since then, she had to improvise with a lot of things and use her survival skills more often than not when traveling. Most of the Colonies were okay if you generally looked more trouble than you were worth, and she was all about that for the moment.

Riley sat on top of her Thoroughbred horse as it trotted down a dirt street towards a small settlement up ahead. She checked her kit. Her rifle on her back looked like a Soviet AKM at first glance, but it was actually an Egyptian Maadi copy of the AKM. She wore a plate carrier with all the 7.62 magpouches down on the bottom and a kydex chestmount holster up above which currently housed her green and black Beretta M9A3. Down on her belt she had her IFAK and pistol pouches and other such things, but also another holster hooked on with was carrying her Colt Anaconda .44 revolver. A pretty piece she got for a song and had tuned up nicely. Also on her belt was a leather sheath that had her 7-inch long KA-BAR knife inside. And if all that failed or had been taken from her by some way, she had a double-edged boot knife in her combat boots. Her daily attire was a pair of flecktarn camouflaged German Bundeswehr pants and an olive drab softshell jacket. A green and black shemagh hung around her neck and black ballcap adorned her head with a soft fabric rectangle for a patch, though she hadn't found a good patch for it yet.

The ride in was uneventful, as was usual of the late nights in the Colonies most times. She hitched her horse up, patted him on the side, and walked in to a small building.

"How many?" Asked a bored woman without looking up from her book.

"Just one."

"How long?"

"One night for now. Maybe two."

"Second floor, third door on the right." The Woman instructed, plopping a key onto the desk.

Riley sighed, same service as ever. She walked upstairs and took all her gear off, keeping the pistols: the M9 under her pillow, the Colt hanging from the holster on the bedpost. Her gear was as far away from the door as possible, and piled up near her rucksack. She laid down on the bed and retired for the night, knowing full well tomorrow was going to be a long day. She had made a lot of work as a hired gun and a mercenary, but now she was in the calling of a lawbringer. More effectively, an investigator. Missing people, strange happenings, and other shit was getting on her to-watch list as she found people willing to pay for such services. Well, it was honest work as far as this world came, and she was aiming to do more good. However, she dreaded the loose thread. The loose thread she'd pull that'd unravel a whole fucking mess that would go deeper than she could see clearly. She was wary about the inevitable rabbit hole, but sometimes these things are just hidden to well that you don't know you're in until you're already falling. With that on her mind, Riley took longer than usual to fall asleep in that small inn. Come morning, come what may.
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Pavonistade
Minister
 
Posts: 2788
Founded: Jan 26, 2013
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Pavonistade » Fri Feb 07, 2020 11:32 pm

Smiling behind a rolling blanket of clouds, the sun soaked the earth in a yellowish hue. Masking the ground was a carpet of dust, a haphazard mixture of grainy and fine. Endless rugs such as these covered much of China, or at least whatever's left of China after the Morkt Crisis. The only signs of vegetation were a few strands of grass and the occasional bushes. Even then, they did little to make the terrain inviting as their green brilliance were fading into brown.

Kang Xi Long could not help but notice life in an otherwise-devoid landscape. A scrambled set of buildings surrounded him, for he was in a village away from advanced civilization. Some buildings were makeshift, being placeholders for future structures. Others were more established and elaborate. The aged roofs looked worn out and cracks dug into the walls, but the buildings were still definitely livable. Aside from the songs of the open breeze, the noises of the village filled Kang's ears.

Feet crunched the soil. Chatter soared through the air. Screams erupted at a distance.

Another second and there could be no mistake. Kang recognized the horrified shrieks echoing throughout the village. In the midst of a few confused bystanders, he darted towards the source of the screams, which were rippling from the outskirts of the village. His path took him to a barrier of humans, squealing and struggling to back away. Gazing past the collection, however, Kang realized the source of the panic. There were two hooligans swinging unruly tools around; one bore a machete and another brandished a mace.

"Now we're talking!" The man holding the machete sported a fairly-muscular build.

"All we wanted was a few more days' worth of food and water..." The man with the mace was skinnier but still able to end lives with a single blunt swoop. "Too bad it's come to this!"

Though condescending, the hooligans appeared to be lone wolves rather than members of an organized gang or group. Either way, there was only so much Kang could take. He made his way past the crowd, passing by the panicked villagers. The crowd melted into utter shock, as they could only gasp at the sight of one man facing two armed brutes. Kang's blue shirt and trousers, though wrinkled, were a stark contrast to the ragged and torn clothes of the hooligans. No matter the clothing, the bandits only saw before them a man hurrying his trip to Hell.

"Huh?" the machete man grunted. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm doing some housecleaning." Kang cracked the knuckles on his right hand, then on his left.

"I don't get it." The mace wielder's hissing tone already hinted of annoyance.

"I'm looking at two pieces of trash," Kang answered. "I can't let the likes of you lie around and make the house of villagers dirty. That's why I'm out housecleaning."

"Oh, you're trying to be funny!" The machete man blasted. "See if this is funny to you!"

The ruffian charged at Kang, readying for a decisive slash. He lunged forward and brought his blade down, slicing the air ahead in half. The machete man noticed, however, that the blade had not sliced flesh. Kang had already stepped aside, posing himself in front of the machete man's arm and blade. With a pair of index and middle fingers, Kang tapped the bandit's forearm twice. He struck as lightly and graciously as a droplet would fall onto a pristine surface of water. As the machete man stumbled onto the ground, the mace wielder launched himself at Kang.

Summoning his savage strength, the hooligan swung his spiked club with both his arms. For a second, it seemed that the club would smash into Kang's body... only that the club was not moving. The mace wielder noticed one of Kang's hands grabbing onto the handle. He grunted, panic growing in his voice, as he tried pulling the mace. No budging could let it go; it was like trying to pull out a rod embedded inside a wall. "Wata!" Kang yelled while thrusting his other fist upwards, hitting the mace wielder's forearms. The mook lost balance and tumbled, while the mace remained in Kang's hand.

The surrounding villagers backed away a little further, anxious as they watched the two bandits return onto their feet. Kang dropped the mace onto the ground; this appeared dangerously cocky to the villagers.

"Agh!" The machete man blurted before pointing his blade at Kang. "You think you can get away with these tricks? I'll show you -" A strange tingling radiated in the arm holding the machete. A bloodcurdling scream flared from the machete man, as his arm began twitching uncontrollably. The arm was trembling around like a helpless fly trying to escape a venus flytrap. The surrounding crowd was bathed in an uncanny mixture of horror and awe.

"What's happening!?" The mace wielder asked, before he too noticed tingling in both his arms. An agonizing pain vibrated across his arms as they were also twitching at random. The hooligan was drenched by the insanity of his own torment, for it did not feel so different from being hit by a sledgehammer. Just as suddenly - and just as inexplicably - the twitching and pain subsided.

Yet one danger remained. The machete man could do nothing but beg, "Spare me, please! Just... just who are you!?"

"I'm just cleaning this village." Kang walked one step at a time towards the two bandits, both struggling to inch away from him. "Perhaps the two of you may be spared this time, but you're just going to die if you keep this up." Kang glanced at the variety of villagers witnessing the unconventional lecture, before getting back to the mooks, "Leave this village and never come back."

The two ruffians did not see much of a choice.
Last edited by Pavonistade on Fri Feb 07, 2020 11:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Rupudska
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20473
Founded: Sep 16, 2010
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Rupudska » Sat Feb 08, 2020 8:13 pm

HEAVEN (RUBY HYEON)

Even from outside the VR booth, the unmistakable mix of heavy metal and bass so intertwined in human culture with killing demons by chainsaw and shotgun can be heard clearly, the entire booth shaking with each thump of the built-in subwoofers.

Inside is Ruby Hyeon, with a full-skull headset and the motion-sensitive zip-up bodysuit - there's an even better one in her quarters that's truly skintight, and this one can clearly manage that, but she's always felt weird stripping down to her [REDACTED]s in public, even in the privacy afforded by a VR booth.

Her moves weren't graceful - they're too big, too heavy, and altogether too violent to be called 'graceful' even considering the size of her frame (which was too small to be called a size.) As if controlled by her genes, every move was coordinated to direct maximum energy into maximum hurt, in this case, on the polygonal demons projected into her eyes by the VR headset's goggles.

She cackled in mad glee as she bashed the head of a revenant in with the butt of a four-barrel shotgun - a completely nonsensical device, but that was how these games were. Something close to a red-plated eye with spikes (and teeth) charged at her from behind, her leg swung out and kicked it into a barrel with enough force to dent it.

Something approached from the left - a mere hell knight, which she dispatched by means of a green-armored fist with almost palpable contempt. Check that, her emotion gauge, a unique feature of this particular game's plotline (such as ripping and tearing needs one) indicated that's exactly what she was feeling, for all but a second.

She grinned as she finally encountered a true challenge - a four-armed cyberdemon, holding a chaingun in one pair of arms and a rocket launcher in the other. She let out a feral cry and drew, of all things, a sword.

Ruby Hyeon may have been in the depths of hell, but right now she was in Heaven.
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Kilel
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 190
Founded: Sep 16, 2010
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Kilel » Sun Feb 09, 2020 12:56 pm

Orbit Above Earth
Heaven - Space Station - Recreation District
1730 Hours GMT - November 28th (Thursday)



The corridors of the Recreation District of Heaven echoed deeply with the joys of the organizations many off-duty members. The interior of the station was not unlike that of a large city, simply uprooted and hurled into space. Millions lived here, and they spent much of their free time in this immense district in the inner city. Lachesis wondered if she'd ever be able to get Phenom away from his work for long enough for the two of them to enjoy a nice, long, carefree day here. Maybe sometime this Saturday. She had spent the last half hour compiling everything she needed and selecting candidates to take part in this operation. She had narrowed her selection down to two individuals:

Ruby Hyeon, a gifted Anomaly from Korea with the ability to effect the speed and direction of objects that she touches.

and

Laurie Jamison, an extremely talented Trapper whose ability and thoughtfulness in combat has helped her to achieve the prestigious position of Guardian Angel Special Operations.

Lachesis knew exactly where Jamison was, as she was almost always in the Engineering Department's Headquarters, cooking up new traps. It was like an obsession, to the point where Laurie often slept underneath the front desk in the lobby, as the labs were all locked down after-hours. Hyeon, however, was a bit of a less uncertain quarry. Lachesis had surmised, based on what she knew about the young firecracker, that she would most likely be in one of the many VR chambers clustered within the Recreation District. If she was not here, she would simply contact her remotely. Some thought Lachesis odd that way, as she would often forego the convenience that high command had in being able to raise any agent at any time, and instead seek them out physically for a more face-to-face encounter. She felt it was a more human approach (which wasn't wrong) and as such, felt it was much better. Less bothersome.

Lachesis turned into one of the VR Arcades that featured a series of demons being slaughtered on its facade. Something befitting Hyeon's affinity for combat.



Within the lobby of the arcade, the clerk was lazing at the front desk, clearly only just barely busy enough to keep himself awake. He was listening to an old music track from before the Dark Ages. Most music these days was recovered from then, anyway. As people focused on recovering from the Morkt Crisis, new music took a back seat to the already plentiful music of the ancestral eras.

"Welcome to the Ripatorium, how can I help you tonight Miss... Oh, Madam Montgomery!" The clerk started as if he was reading from a script, but straightened up immediately, not expecting to be in the presence of someone from High Command, "I'm so sorry! I was just..."

Lachesis waved him down, "It's fine, it's fine! I'm just a secretary! I'm not here to reprimand you on how you do your job. Looks like you're doing the appropriate amount of work for how busy it is here right now anyway." she reassured him, winking. "I don't blame you. It's a Thursday night. But that aside, I'm looking for someone. Is this young lady here?" She said, holding up a photo of Hyeon for identification. "Her name is Ruby Hyeon. She's not in trouble, don't worry."

"Oh, yeah uh..." he pointed over his left shoulder, down a corridor behind him, "Head down that way. Last door on the left."

"Thank you! Keep up the good work. Also, I like your choice in music." She said with a smile, and hurried down the corridor to collect the young Guardian Angel. As she approached, she could hear the young lady cackling with glee and smiled half-nervously. Strange kid. She knocked loudly to make sure her presence was unmistakable to the aspiring Demon Slayer within. "Ruby Hyeon? High Command! May I come in?"
Last edited by Kilel on Sun Feb 09, 2020 1:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I don't even play this game anymore lol

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WizardMegumin
Political Columnist
 
Posts: 5
Founded: Jan 05, 2020
New York Times Democracy

Postby WizardMegumin » Tue Feb 11, 2020 8:07 pm

Shenandoah River


The surprise attacks came haphazardly. First the howling shrills. Then, an ambush from a squadron of poorly equipped but feral Strays, wearing what rags they could find in the wilderness without proper tailoring experience. The first Stray swung his makeshift shiv at Hilda, who barely managed to escape out of the way by. His companions followed suit, maniacally brandishing their own makeshift weapons. They were well-disciplined in their madness; making tactical advances towards their prey by using covers and surroundings to corner Hilda. However, Hilda had her tricks up her sleeves.

The engine made a *ding* sound as it denoted the completion of the re-calibration. Not a minute too soon, Hilda thought, as she reached down her pocket and pulled out a small disc. She pressed the button at the center and tossed it at the middle of a cluster of Strays, and the disc began exerting gravitational force, serving as a singularity that sucked the Strays towards it. While her assailants were busy with experiencing what it feels to be sucked into a black hole without the lethal part, Hilda turned to find two additional Strays attempting to sabotage her vehicle by puncturing the tire and placing explosives inside the truck's hood. Reaching down to her thigh, Hilda pulled out what looked like a make-do taser that, while not as sophisticated as other non-lethal weapons, packed quite a punch. She used her know-how from her days of wandering to evade the first attack coming from the saboteur and expertly landed the taser against the nape of his neck, to which the assailant convulsed, falling on the ground. The second attacker brought out his dagger to slash at Hilda. The knife's edge grazed Hilda's shoulder, leaving a tiny slash mark on her shirt as she brought the taser straight into her opponent's forehead. Same result followed; the attacker twitching and dropping.

Before Hilda could celebrate her victory, however, an unseen saboteur not affected by the singularity launched his attack, slamming his blunt baseball bat straight into Hilda's head. The attack was made was such force that it broke the bat, and sent Hilda straight into unconsciousness, with no way to react nor respond to it...


Recreation District | HEAVEN


Ethlyn enjoyed a cold tangerine smoothie while sitting in a polished wooden bench next to the neon-plastered arcade building with a sign that says *'Ripatorium'*, the building blaring high-tempo music filled with synthesizer sound effects and electric guitar riffs. While the music wasn't necessary something Ethlyn would go out of her way to listen to, the bench was the closest she could find, and her legs were hurting from all the shopping she had today in the Commerce District. After all, where else can she find such luxury brands from a bygone era than the shopping road of HEAVEN's inner city districts? Where else can she peacefully enjoy a citrus drink in the tranquil evening?

The attractive scientist's gaze turned to find a brunette with blue sclera hastily make her way into the Ripatorium. Ethlyn's ocular sensor in the form of a red contact lens identified her as Lachesis Montgomery, secretary of the military divison's Lord, Phenom Ortus. When a woman like her is on the move, it's usually for mission deployment of serious scale. Could this be her chance to exhibit her new creation? A slight smile crept across Ethlyn's face as she rose from her bench and followed Lachesis into the arcade building.


Ethlyn got a fair bit of stares as she entered the Ripatorium: partially because you don't expect the introverts from the science division to be out and about, let alone enter such a high-octane environment, and partially because of the woman's graceful gait as she sighted Lachesis and approached her.

"She doesn't appear to be able to respond to you, madame secretary." Ethlyn grinned as she spoke out to Lachesis. "She's, shall I say, too enraptured? Ufufu."
Last edited by WizardMegumin on Tue Feb 11, 2020 9:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Slaughtveria
Political Columnist
 
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Founded: Jan 11, 2020
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Slaughtveria » Thu Feb 13, 2020 7:30 pm

A thin haze of smoke filled the room as a young man took a puff from his cigarette. “So remind me again what this slideshow is for Sam?” he asked, scratching at his goatee.

The suited man groaned as he turned towards the distraction “Give me a break Mikoto, we always go over the details of the mission before we start.”

Mikoto flashed an annoyed look at his cousin “Yeah I know we do, usually on technology made within the last hundred years. What’s next, a fucking PowerPoint presentation?” the glowing end of his cigarette reflected off his prosthetic left arm as he tapped it in an ashtray.

Samuel returned the glare “Well maybe if we had some money lying around we could afford some new tech. It’s a shame every time we take a contract half a damn city ends up exploding and we have to pay for the damages.”

Mikoto feigned a hurt look as he struck a dramatic pose, “You wound me my dear cousin, last mission only a neighborhood block exploded.”

The argument crashed to a halt as an angry woman slammed her hands on the table in the center of the room. “Would you two children stop fucking around so we can get on with the mission?!” she practically growled at the two startled mercenaries, leveling a death glare at them.

“Sheesh Bridgette, calm that shit down before your heart explodes.” Mikoto sat back down, now on his best behavior.

Samuel cleared his throat before returning to the projector. “So the target this time is one Daniel Leblanc” he began to explain as a picture of a heavyset Caucasian man in a cheap suit engulfed the projector. “You name a shady business venture and he has his hands in it; guns, drugs, human trafficking, and now most recently Morkt era tech.” Bridgette subconsciously clenched her fists as the man’s crimes were read out to her.

“Fucking piece of living shit” she muttered loud enough for the other two to hear. Samuel gave a small nod in agreement as Mikoto rubbed the woman’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her down. To his surprise, she made no attempt to reject the gesture.

“I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and assume this Leblanc prick had something to do with that hovercraft crash in Connecticut a few weeks back?”
Samuel again nodded at Mikoto’s question “Bingo” he responded as he skipped ahead to the next slide, showing a much older man.

“Please don’t tell me that’s another pedophile. I hate dealing with them, especially when we have to bring them in alive” groaned Mikoto, a look of disgust and annoyance on his face.

Samuel shook his head towards his cousin. “Not this time Miko” Samuel grinned at the irritated look brewing on his face.

“I hate it when you call me that man; I’m not a fucking shrine maiden.” The two shared a hearty laugh as Bridgette facepalmed, groaning in frustration.

Sensing his sister’s bad mood, Samuel once again cleared his throat. “This slab of one hundred percent dead went by the name Charlie Peterson. The body was burned to a crisp so it took a good long time to identify the body. Thanks to that we don’t know much more about him other than Leblanc sold him a hovercraft for some reason, and he’s dead.”

“One less asshole in the world,” Bridgette said with a scowl, finally slapping Mikoto’s hand away from her shoulder.

“Here’s where it gets interesting. I managed to scrounge up some pictures from a drone that filmed the whole thing. Someone was spotted leaving the craft before HVN swooped in.” Samuel skipped to the next slide as he turned to the other two in the room, noticing the stunned look on their faces. “They look familiar?”

“No fucking way” Bridgette’s shock quickly turned to anger as she noticed the distinctive head of red hair

Mikoto stumbled towards the screen like a man possessed much to the concern of his cousins. He stared at the image before croaking out a single word.

“Luck?”

The rage subsided from Bridgette as she saw the complete one-eighty in her cousin. “You okay Mikoto?” she asked, concern taking over.

“This Leblanc prick, where is he Sam?”

“Uh, I managed to cross-reference some shipping manifests and they all lead back to Australia, Sydney to be specific.” Samuel practically flew across the room grabbing a small pile of documents, only to have them slapped out of his hands by a grinning Mikoto.

“Pack for warm weather then ramblers, we’re going to the land down under!” he practically bellowed as he disappeared into another room.

SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA - NINE HOURS LATER

A black aircraft tore through the raging dust storm blanketing the city. The onboard radio crackled and hissed as a faint voice came and went amidst the noise. “State of emerg….take shel….biggest…..of century” the voice of the reporter garbled worse and worse before finally being consumed by static.

Samuel gripped the control stick tightly as he fought against the storm. Growling in frustration, he pulled down as hard as he could in an attempt to get above the chaos. Successful in his efforts, he flipped a switch, causing the craft to hover in place.

Sighing in relief, he swiveled his chair around to push a small green button, bringing the intercom to life. “The storm’s way too strong. If we keep this up much longer, the engines will be totally screwed. You two are gonna have to jump in and walk the rest of the way. I’ll pull you out once the mission’s complete.”

Mikoto tightened the scarf around his mouth, his mind swimming with thoughts of the mission and more importantly that of Lady Luck; the greatest enigma of his life. She entered his life all those years ago like a phantom; right out of nowhere. Then just as suddenly after the Morkt Crisis ended, she disappeared. Why did she reappear so suddenly, and what were her goals? He shook his head; he had to focus on the mission. Barring her literally falling back into his life, nothing could distract him, this was the highest-paying contract he’d ever complete. Turns out when you’re a human smuggler, drug trafficker, arms dealer, and illegal tech dealer you make some powerful enemies; enemies willing to pay millions to see you dead and gone. He shifted his goggles as he turned to Bridgette, the two nodded at each other as they stood on opposite sides of the plane.

The intercom screeched into life with Sam’s voice. “This is the safest it’s going to get you two. Be careful out there and please make it back in one piece. Step into the pods when you’re ready, and brace for impact.”

The two looked at the aforementioned pods, Lockheed D-21 supersonic drones; absolute relics of reconnaissance technology.

“Sam, I love you but you know I was kidding about the older and older tech right? This shit is from the 1960s, and it had a real nasty habit of crashing and exploding” the eye patched merc said with worry in his voice, looking paler than usual.

“Once again, stop causing shit to blow up and maybe we can afford some sparkly new toys. For now, all we’ve got is Cold War-era toys.”
Mikoto gave a small chuckle, “fair enough” he said to no one in particular. The two slipped into their drones, and almost immediately an alarm started blaring as the hangar door began to descend.

“Target’s in the big tower in the middle of the city. Keep it as straight as you can and don’t fucking crash please.”

“Easier said than done dear brother” snarked Bridgette, much to the surprise of the other two.

“Well holy shit Sam, your sister does have a sense of humor”

“Must be the end of days, we’d better repent now before it’s too late”

“I fucking hate you two”

“Love you too Brig” the three shared a quick laugh as the door fully descended.

“Alright, it’s go time ladies and lunatics. Please keep all hands, arms, feet, and legs inside the ride at all times and remember to ring me on the codec when you’re ready to leave with the guest of honor.”

Mikoto breathed in deeply before engaging the thrust, blasting out of the craft at breakneck speeds, Bridgette right behind him. Dust and debris flew past them faster than they could blink. After what felt like seconds, the barest hint of a gigantic tower came into view; blanketed by a dense fog of dust. His vision drifted to the left as he noticed Bridgette slowing down. “Talk to me Brig, why’re you slowing down?”

He was met with a stream of profanity “The fucking controls are locking up; the damn engine must be clogging up. I’m going to try to find a safe place to land and I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll try and guide you as best as I can sis. Stay safe Mikey”

“Roger roger, be careful Brig.” Mikoto grabbed the control stick with a vice-like grip, keeping as steady as possible as he rocketed towards the tower. Seconds away, alarms began blaring in his ears, red lights rapidly flashing. Concern briefly consumed his face before a small smile formed; a mad glint in his eye.

“Hey Sam, if I make it out of this alive, promise me something okay? Buy something for us from the last hundred years or less okay?”

“What the hell are you doing Mikoto?” both of his cousins expressed their concern at the same time.

“Something unbelievably stupid yet potentially really awesome” as the craft started drifting down and to the left, he flipped a switch, activating the parachute as he pulled up on hard on the yoke. The craft smashed through a set of windows, the sounds of grinding metal filled the air as it screeched across the floor, barely coming to a stop as it reached the other side of the room.

The mercenary hopped out of the craft, grinning confidently before a look of surprise quickly took over as a dozen guns cocked in front of him. Pistols, machine guns, and rifles all aimed right at him by some shocked and very angry men in suits.

Most would give up at this point, but the smile returned with a vengeance as he surveyed the people in front of him. Shaking hands, wavering looks in their eyes, fear gripped their hearts no matter how hard they tried to hide it with firepower.

“Now boys I think we’re all shaken up a little bit by what just happened” he lied to the group, he had never felt more excited or alive in his entire life than right now. “So why don’t you drop the guns, walk away, and let me grab your boss?”

To his shock, the group actually listened and ran out of the room. ‘I honestly didn’t think that would work’ he thought before chuckling to himself. He turned around to face a set of double doors. He stopped to smile at the over the top nature of the whole situation.

‘Big set of double doors guarded by goons houses the boss, am I in a video game or something?’

He shrugged to himself as he kicked the door in. Before him lied a large room filled with lavish and opulent decoration. Paintings, statues, and vases practically littered the room. In the center of the room a man frantically threw documents and money into a suitcase, only to freeze as the door crashed open.

Mikoto strode into the room with purpose, his frown hidden by the scarf as he brushed some dust off his shirt. “I’m assuming you’re Leblanc?” he asked as he got closer to his target, who slowly began to back up.

“Now hold on, I can give you whatever you want. Name your price! I got money, the best guns in the world! A f-fine man like yourself could use a lovely woman right? I’ve got a fine col- HRRK” the man’s begging was cut short as Mikoto quickly closed the distance and clamped his hand on his throat, snarling in rage.

“You were already on my shit list asshole, keep it up and I’m sending you to my client in a soup can.” Mikoto cocked his right arm backwards and punched him right in the face, bones breaking as metal crashed into flesh. Leblanc began to fall backward, already unconscious. Mikoto caught his limp form and threw him onto the desk, scattering its contents onto the floor.

Mission accomplished, Mikoto put his finger to his ear, activating his radio. “Yo Sam, got the bag of dog shit, ready for extraction.” There was a brief moment of static before clearing.

“Great job Miko, the roof should be safe enough to land on, meet me there.”

“Over and out” the call over with, he hoisted the unresponsive man onto his shoulders fireman style. Finding the stairs he began ascending the concrete steps. Ten floors up he began panting, looking up at the dozens of floors remaining he shook his head. ‘Screw this, I’m taking the elevator.”

As he reached for the door, he heard a set of voices, one that was unmistakably familiar. He opened the door cautiously, only to stop suddenly as he noticed a figure. Her red hair mesmerized him as much as it did all those years ago. He stepped into the room and she turned towards him, her equally red eyes expressing shock which turned quickly into confusion.

His joy at the reunion vanished as he saw a figure out of the corner of his eye raise a gun. Before he could make a sound a gunshot rang through the air and she fell to the floor.

A feral rage took over as he dropped the unconscious Leblanc off his shoulders and charged the figure, unholstering his pistol as he did so. He jumped into the air, dropkicking the gunman right in the face, sending him crashing to the floor. Anger and adrenaline guided him forward as he sat up and proceeded to unload several rounds into the person’s chest, they shook violently momentarily before ceasing movement, a pool of blood forming underneath them.
Mikoto panted heavily, the high of adrenaline fading as he once again holstered his gun. He rushed over to the wounded woman; blood had already soaked through her clothes around the abdomen area. Thinking quickly he pulled the scarf off his face, shaking it to clear it of dirt and debris before pressing it to her wound and tying it off as best as he can.

“Come on Red, it’s been a while I know but you’re not gonna let some wussy bullet be the end of you are you?” he tightened the makeshift bandage, eliciting a groan of pain from her. He took his hands off her, only now noticing his hands were covered in blood.

“Fuck, this is really bad,” he said to himself as he wiped the blood onto his pants. He finally noticed the young man in the room and rushed over to him.

“You okay kid?” he asked the unresponsive young man, shaking him lightly. He placed his ear to his chest, no sign of a heartbeat.

“Sam double time the extraction; got two friendlies here. One has a gunshot to the abdomen and she’s bleeding badly. Got a kid here too, he’s not breathing and I don’t have a pulse.” Mikoto tried to contain his panic as he paced back and forth.

“I’ll try to but this stor-“

“NOW SAM!” he practically exploded as his cousin before sighing heavily, rubbing his temple. “Shit I’m sorry man. It….It’s Luck, I found her.”

There was a small silence, “Say no more, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The line went dead as Mikoto finished regaining his composure. As he went to pick up one of his several passengers, the ding of an elevator caught his attention. He turned to see elevator doors fly open, a dozen well-armed guards piling out of it and aiming their guns at him. He held his hands up as several laser dots appeared on his chest and face.

“Don’t suppose I can get you guys to go home too?” he chuckled nervously as one of them approached him with an assault rifle. The man gave a cold glare before smacking him with the butt of his rifle. His head snapped back, blood and saliva spraying from his mouth.

Mikoto recovered quickly and stared back at the now surprised man, a bloody grin consuming his face. “That’s what I was hoping you’d do” he grabbed the man by the throat, unholstering his gun as he fired two shots below his belt. The man let out a weak scream of pain before getting one more shot to the head. The rifle slipped from his now dead fingers and was caught by Mikoto before it hit the floor. He opened fire on the group, taking down several of them as the rest scattered, blind firing at the mercenary as they attempted to take cover. Noticing one rushing him he flipped the gun around and bashed the guard right in the knee, who collapsed to the floor in pain. His yells were silenced with one big swing to the head. A gunshot cut through the chaos as a bullet hit Mikoto’s arm, the bullet sparked as it collided with his metallic arm, causing him to recoil. He spun on his heel and unloaded the rest of the clip into the attacker, who slumped to the floor dead. One final guard remained, who looked upon the grinning, blood-splattered mercenary with very obvious fear. He steadied himself and aimed at the terrifying man before him, whose bloody toothy grin only grew as he came closer and closer to him.

“Stay back man, you want to die so badly?”

“I could ask you the same thing chief; you're the one with the empty gun.” The guard’s blood ran cold as he slammed his finger on the trigger, only to hear a distinct click. The two looked at each other for a brief moment, the mercenary raising a single eyebrow at him with a bemused smirk. He never noticed the shine of the knife as it was withdrawn from the sheath on Mikoto’s leg. He only briefly felt a burning pain as the knife plunged into his chest. His eyes widened in shock as he slowly slumped to the floor, all life leaving him.

Wiping the man’s blood onto his pant leg before re-sheathing the knife, Mikoto began piling the three people into the elevator. He took care with Luck and Daisuke but practically threw Leblanc in. Pushing the button for the roof, he leaned against one of the walls as the doors closed and the lift began its ascent.

He crossed his arms as he began to process the rapid-fire series of events before a groan caught his attention. To his left Leblanc began to stir, sitting up with a groan. “What the hell happened?” he questioned. Without even looking Mikoto backhanded the man, sending his head bouncing off the wall, unconsciousness once again claimed him.

Minutes later the doors opened, sending a massive gust of wind and dust right into his face. He covered his now exposed face with his sleeve as he dragged Leblanc by the collar outside. Feet in front of him he could barely make out the outline of the jet as well as two figures running towards him. The first figure to reach him was Bridgette who slammed into him with a bone-crushing hug. Samuel patted him on the back as he made his way to the elevator.

“That was fucking crazy Mikoto!” she held her cousin in the embrace for a few moments before slapping him hard across the face “You scared the hell out of me you asshole! Don’t ever-“she stopped suddenly as she saw Luck being dragged towards the jet by Samuel. She looked at Mikoto, her concern quickly turned to anger. “No, she’s not getting on that plane” her tone was cold and angry as she glared bloody daggers at her cousin.

“Knock it off Bridgette! She’s hurt, we can argue about this later!” Sam yelled over the wind. She shook her head as she went to collect Daisuke.
The three rushed back to the plane with their new passengers as the hangar doors slammed shut.

Sam shook himself off as he rushed to the cockpit, leaving Mikoto and Bridgette by themselves as they dragged the two injured to the medical bay.

A tense half an hour passed as Mikoto and Bridgette worked to save the two while trying not to come to blows with each other. Daisuke and Luck finally stabilized and the two mercenaries finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Mikoto looked at his cousin as she cleaned herself up, a sudden feeling of guilt washing over him. “Listen Brig, thanks for saving them. I know you don’t like her-“

“I’m going to stop you there” she cut him off, her voice flat and lacking emotion “I don’t “not like her”, I detest her. She abused our trust in her and worst of all she hurt you.” She turned towards Mikoto, a look of concern as she looked at him. “You’re like a brother to me Mikey and I love you” she had the faintest of smiles on her face before it once again turned to a frown. “I know better than most that I can’t tell you what to do, but be careful around her. I don’t trust her and you shouldn’t either.”

Mikoto looked to the sleeping form of the redhead before once again looking at Bridgette. “I guess we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one Brig.”

She sighed as she shook her head; his stubbornness frustrated her to no end. “Fine, don’t come crying to me when she breaks your heart again” she turned away from him and left the room.


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