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Francis Washington

"As you wish"

0 · 315 views · located in OKARI

a character in “Beasts of Burden: Prototype Psi”, originally authored by AceofSpade, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Francis Washington

Picture:
Image
Age: 24

Additional Appearance: Tall, handsome and amiable are three traits commonly attributed to Francis. Standing at roughly 186cm, athletic and well built, Francis is almost the model soldier. His build allows him to carry an aura of dependability and courageousness few can match. Underneath the cloth and mask however is a body riddled with numerous scars. Far from being intimidating though, Francisā€™ kind features also incorporate medium length black hair finishing in a pony tail at the back. His hazel eyes always carry with them a great measure of foresight and experience gained from a life of enduring and training. Francis has a certain enthralling nature about him, which when coupled with his naturally kind and charismatic nature make him extremely easy to seem to get along with.

Outfit and equipment: Generally, Francis wears odd, almost sci-fi-esque armour when called into serious operations. A fully enclosed helmet, fitted body armour and fitted brown-gray clothing which resemble standard army gear. When he wears this armour his appearance takes on a more ambiguous and dangerous aura. In addition, Francis usually carries a wide variety of small explosives with him, anything from dynamite to HE grenades and even flashbangs to smoke grenades.

His armor is amongst the best OKARI has developed in recent times. The suit is fitted specifically for him, light weight and flexible, but offering excellent protection. The armor is built up of tightly woven fibre layers and is able to break blades, fists, deflect bullets and shrapnel. The helmet includes an in-built interface, enabling Francis to view thermal readings as well as providing night vision.

For standard clothing heā€™ll wear whatever is suitable. T-Shirts and pants for comfort or matching jacket and trousers for more formal meetings.

Weapon: Heckler & Koch MP7 ā€“ Able to penetrate body armour, but still small enough to use as an efficient side arm. Francis favours the use of 2 of the sub-machine pistols, often using one until it has fully expended its ammunition before drawing the other with his weak arm and switching. Both of the sub-machine pistols feature a 40 round magazine box and use specially designed AP rounds. Both the guns incorporate a folding fore and iron sight as well as an optional silencer.

Ballistic Knife ā€“ Francis usually carries 2 basic combat knifes and 4 ballistic knives. These knives are able to eject their blades up to 10m once a switch underneath the hilt is pressed. The main benefit of these is the element of surprise and its accessibility.

Faction: Psi
Armor and Gear:
Image
Power: Matter Displacement ā€“ Often mistaken upon first sight as the ability to stop time, Francis' ability is actually the ability to remove fields of matter for brief periods of time. Matter displacement enables Francis to remove ā€˜boxesā€™ of matter within the real world by storing them in an alternate dimension. The limitations of these boxes can be expressed with a 2 x 2 x 2m cube. The alternate dimension has the unique property of slowing time almost to a halt to those held within it. This has the curious effect of making it seem as if nothing has happened once matter is returned to its original space, in effect its appears as if he stopped time briefly. Francis can only displace a maximum of 4 ā€˜boxesā€™ at once and store their matter for up to 1 minute. The ability is able to displace people caught within the 'box' also, but it will always displace the entire person in question. It's effect on people is subtle. People never experience being displaced, instead its effect is akin to blinking an eyelid. Many who are displaced are often unaware of it also unless they fully understand Francis' power and some even has come to pass later which makes it obvious.

At Francisā€™ will or after 1 minute has expired, the matter will return to its original space. Francisā€™ ability has a huge variety of applications. Creating doorways, hiding people, removing obstacles, or removing dangers, setting traps, so long as there is a will, there is a way.

Animal: Reindeer

Imperfection: None.

Background: Francis is an oddity in that he is perhaps one of the few Psi to have volunteered to join OKARI by choice. Stranger perhaps is that heā€™s always been unusually aware of his surroundings. In that sense, heā€™s always known about the dreadful terrors which were committed by OKARI. Francis was originally born in Australia. His parents had both been and met as soldiers but had decided to settle down as a family after Francisā€™ birth. They moved to Germany 3 years after. The majority of Francisā€™ relatives lived in Germany and with a newborn his parents wanted to be back in the familiar comfort of their home country. Shortly after they moved, his mother birthed another child, Francis' brother.

Francis was a quick learner whose talent was fostered by an overtly competitive father. By the time they had moved to Germany, both brothers where having personal classes taught by their father on maths and english. Francis' father would train him relentlessly, day after day, training Francis' physique and mental prowess and honing them into a tool he invisioned as perfect. Francis' development was fast, frighteningly so according to his mother, yet much to joy of his father. Nevertheless, they both loved him fully. Although his father was strict, Francisā€™ mother held the balance, offsetting his fatherā€™s harsh disciplines and teachings with kindness and affection. It is unknown how exactly Francis came into contact with OKARI. Maybe his father had some ties connecting to the company; maybe there was an event which triggered it. Francis has never divulged anyone with the exact details, its uncertain what the fate of his brother was either.

What is known is that Francis has spent nearly his entire life enduring a vast host of experiments and operations, and he has done so willingly. Many of the numerous scars across his body are testament to that and yet his sanity and resolve have always remained unusually intact. To the scientists, Francis was another perfect subject to test their worst experiments on. His resolve made him more tolerant and more likely to survive their insane tests without fatal consequences when compared to many other subjects. Yet still, Francis was pushed to the edge of death on numerous occasions. Nothing could ultimately prepare him for everything OKARI held in store, not the harsh old lessons of his father or even the faint love of his mother and relatives.

The number of operations and tests he's undergone have left noticeable scars on him and namely his body. It can be argued that by this stage Francis is almost more part machine rather than human. He requires little sustenance and can survive without water for days beyond where most humans would die. Francis can still recall the tests which went without food and water for weeks on end in order to explore the limits of his body's enhancements. Days filled with nothing but lonliness, his gnawing hunger and the parched thrist of his throat. Drugs have conditioned his psyche further, enabling Francis to always be able to utilise almost the full strength capabilities of his body. Many of these aspects where tested rigorously also. There where brutally strainuous weight lifting tests which where enforced until his arms broke. Speed and endurance tests which involved running until his legs and muscles failed him. Amongst the worst where the pain endurance tests, experiments which involved firing off almost every pain recepter in his body. Even for someone like Francis, such pain soon left him unconscious.

OKARI have also tested his ability to displace matter extensively. Testing things such as his range, the maximum number of objects and what size they can be. There have been numerous test into its combat capabilities also, mock battle and war scenarios testing an endless list of applications.

Aside from the experiments, Francis has spent vast amounts of his time training and gaining the knowledge necessary to complete various tasks. Francis has undergone years of exercises, enhancements and drugs. The results of his training are truly astounding. Francis' movements in fights have often been described as the art of death for those who've witnessed it. In combat, Francis is tireless, never wasting a single motion. As such, his dependability over the years has earned him a small measure of freedom and trust within the company, but his hidden motives are still yet unknown.

Personality: Stern but kind. Relentless yet considerate. There are times when Francisā€™ personality are at complete odds compared to the duties and horrors of his occupation. There is no doubt that Francis is fully aware of this, which makes his choice to stay amongst OKARI even stranger perhaps.

For many that know of him, Francis is a dependable and devoted friend. His loyalty and sense of justice are well defined yet contradicted by almost everything OKARI does. Despite this, he is a pleasant and well humoured person by nature. Francis is also able to back-up his personality with a fierce intellect and great charisma. His aptitude and imagination are well suited to match his ability which calls upon great talent to use effectively. This enables him to adapt to a seemingly infinite number of situations making it near impossible to contain him as long as he doesn't wish to be contained.

Francis is perhaps kinder than he needs to be, something he doesn't often like people knowing. His soft, handsome features often lend to his admirable aura. Francis is a sociable person, not afraid to talk with anyone, he's easy to talk to in return and funny when he needs to be. Often quick with his words, Francis frequently presents a jovial and amicable attitude when he talks with others. Surprisingly, few things bother him. Harsh language, poor attitudes, death and sorrow, Francis' reaction to many of these things is usually just one of disturbingly simple acknowledgement. Yet despite his sociable nature, many can't help but wonder what drives his true thoughts and motivations for he rarely seems to share his own personal thoughts and experiences.

Although he has great discipline, Francis likes to enjoy the little things in life. Sweets, the occassional drink, a variety of deserts and his personal hobby of painting. For Francis many of these things are a relieving treat, untainted by everything else he does at OKARI.

Involvement with OKARI: Francis has been involved with OKARI for 18 years. His naturally enhanced physique and mental capabilities made him a prime candidate for a whole variety of experiments, especially due to his unnaturally high tolerance of pain. He is a unique success story in that respect, having completed and survived a huge multitude of experiences with exemplary results. Francis is an invaluable test subject, for both his frightening combat skills and cunning intelligence. He is a combination of OKARI's experiments and rigorous training which have honed his body to be at the peak of human capabilities. High pain tolerance, blistering speed, endless dexterity, brutal strength and a sharp mind are all combined together in a being many would say is perfect for killing.

So begins...

Francis Washington's Story

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Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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The metal corridor rang to the sound of his hurried footsteps as the man marched onwards. His atmosphere carried with it an unmistakable sense of confidence and assurance as he moved with purpose before stopping just beyond the entrance. Francis didnā€™t need to search for any signs to tell that this was the commons room. He whoā€™d lived here for his entire life. The monotony was all the same. Everything from the stale air which made his breath short, to even the cold wall facades which represented his jail and prison. However, he knew this compound like the back of his hand. Surprisingly, he could already hear voices inside. He grinned without hesitation as he stepped forwards, his tall frame almost filling the doorway as he walked through the entrance, his ponytail and greatcoat fluttering behind him.

The unique aroma of tobacco intermingled with vat liquids alerted him to the presence of another as his head turned to identify the individual. Francisā€™ grin widened slightly as the mottled red features of another man came into view, his appearance a strikingly stark contrast compared to the rest of the room. A new face, Francis thought with pang of excitement and sadness. Briefly he pondered what circumstances had occurred to bring this particular individual here before coming to the same conclusion as always. Why did it matter where they had come from? Here they were all just simple beasts after all.

Francisā€™ friendly gaze continued to sweep across as his hazel eyes fell on the second person. Her trim and lithe figure was enough to tell him she was younger than he was. There was a subtle beauty there also, although it was seemingly juxtaposed by the sarcasm dripping in her tone. There was a third man to, though his sour expression made it abundantly clear what his thoughts where. The exact opposite of the red haired man, his most striking feature was a paleness which flawlessly blended the man into the floor and wall he was so grudgingly leaning against.

Apart from those three it seemed like he was the fourth to arrive, or was he? He was glad to see that he was still relatively early, enticed by the prospect of meeting the rest as they came. Although the thought made him happy, he was also apprehensive. ā€œGood day everyoneā€ He smiled pleasantly to diffuse the sober mood of his arrival. Francis bowed slightly towards the others, if they cared to notice at all, and continued his way further into the room before pausing by the red haired man.

ā€œI hope the scientists are treating you wellā€ He teased, a hint of mischievousness glinting within his eyes.

He slipped on without further notice, carrying an unnatural calmness although he seemed to briefly glance at some shadows on his way. As he reached the end of the room, Francis settled for simply sitting against one of the dinner tables. His amiable expression ever present, he folded his arms as his attention turned to the news report blaring on the television.

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Francis had remained in humble silence as more and more people began to trickle into the room, usually one at a time except for a pair who looked similar enough to be siblings. Abruptly, one man caught his attention as he entered through the doorway bearing a hooded jacket. Unlike the rest who bore strong traces of the stagnant air which can only be associated with this complex, this man reeked of a different aroma which could have only come from the outside world. He wasnā€™t a prototype.

Francis had perked up the moment he heard the approaching footsteps and was already awaiting in silent anticipation, his fingers tapping expectantly at his elbow. His placid smile turned to face the intrusion as the elderly manā€™s feet squeaked to a sudden halt by the hallway. The man was quite old, that part was obvious enough from the declining gray of his hair. Unfazed, Francis watched the manā€™s wrinkles twist into an expression of disgust as his mouth opened to address them all. With him, the elderly man also brought the vague sense of anxiety and apprehension as everyone in the room stopped to listen.

A plastered smile seemed to stick to Francisā€™ face until the announcer turned to leave, the squeaking of his shoes causing a slight twitch in his mouth. The announcement wasnā€™t anything unexpected if but perhaps a bit brief, but that too was typical of OKARI. The significance of those words, ā€˜Psi and Betaā€™, caused him to sigh briefly as his neutral gaze fell onto the rest of the members gathered within the room. Inwardly he wondered how many would remain, what their thoughts where and if they were aware of the importance behind these two categories.

As if by instinct, his arms fell to his side as he retrieved the aforementioned clearance card and held it up to his eyes in scrutiny. Engraved on the card in a clear and bolded font where the words heā€™d already read before. Psi. Acting quizzically, he used both hands to draw the card in closer for investigation. Looking over it until he seemed satisfied, Francis then slipped the piece of paper back into his pocket.

ā€œSeems Iā€™m a Psiā€ the tall man shrugged his arms casually, lips grinning at the others. ā€œThink this means we get medals?ā€ Francis joked lightly in sarcasm. Purposefully he avoided the real question of the reasoning for their gathering. His experiences here knew the answer that was coming anyway.

OKARI had given him power and knowledge, but underneath the guise for research was an indomitable and immovable force he still couldnā€™t quite grasp. Money, man-power, technology, even life, all of it was expendable under their endeavour to create the perfect weapons. There were an endless multitude of possible motives and Francis neither liked nor cared for any of them. Silently his eyes watched the Betas getting up to leave, heā€™d have wished them all luck but they all seemed strong enough in their own ways.

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Francis looked with anticipation to see who would remain and who was leaving. Two additional women stayed lingered in their seats in the time that had passed since he made his comment. Both where quietly reserved, almost cold and distant in the way in which they sat alone, their placid faces apparently uninterested by any passing event. Francis was having trouble discerning if they were acting out of caution or because they were genuinely unconcerned. The two who appeared to be siblings caught his attention next. The man of the pair was moving in the opposite direction now, although the action seemed strained and forced. They seemed closely related, causing Francis to wonder if separating them was really okay. Just then the lithe woman leaning on her seat replied back to him.

"Mmm, maybe they're sorting out the kids with peanut allergies. You know, so when OKARI passes out the routine cookie platters, none of 'em accidentally swallow a nut." she mused, "Or maybe we're about to play flag football so we're getting sorted into teams?"

Allowing his surprise to show briefly, Francisā€™ chuckles transitioned into a laugh at the unexpected reply of the hawkish woman. His face brightened with a more natural smile as he ran a hand across his nose, an old habit. Francisā€™ sharp eyes regarded the woman whoā€™d momentarily looked his way before retreating her gaze to the ceiling. Upon doing so, he seemed to raise an amused eyebrow at the awkward position of her seating. She carried herself so casually on those back two legs that Francis wondered if she held the traits of a feline. In any case, he seemed overjoyed someone else had simply vocalized their thoughts openly.

ā€œA peanut allergy or a recreational game huh?ā€ Francis grinned, going along with the joke as he pictured the sport activity. Football, the concept and appeal was alien to him but heā€™d read about it on occasion, ā€œWell most sports games imply team work, so we should at least introduce ourselves right?ā€ He said, although it was aimed slightly more as a general statement to the rest. ā€œIā€™m Francis Washiā€¦ā€

His introductions paused as he heard raised voices and stood forwards slightly. A pale man juggling a spike had suddenly cursed at the doctor, causing Francisā€™ habitual smile to face the commotion. Instantly, he recognised the dangerous expression and the inclination of threat in the manā€™s levelled tone. One of the other woman stood up also and Francis disliked the tension that was rising. But it seems youā€™ve noticed this already, he thought, easing back as he noticed the direction of the hooded manā€™s orange gaze. Francis saw it clearly in that instant. The harsh glint of wires reflecting light and the sudden burst of movement as the hooded man leapt forwards. A moment of silence followed as if they were all expecting something more, but with a final word the problem was concluded. He looked back to the woman with glasses who had now returned to her seat and felt relieved. She was just as frightening as the pale man and hadn't spoken a word the entire meeting. Observing her impassive face, even he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

ā€œWell handled sirā€ Francis winked at the hooded man as the doctor fell free before the wires could close their noose, gasping for breath. Without sign or explanation, the wire around the doctorā€™s neck had fallen as if cut from its source of origin. ā€œLetā€™s leave the distasteful things outside of the orientation for now. In any case...ā€ he said beaming as he seemed to address the remaining Psi naturally, "Since it seems like we'll be involved with each other for the moment. Having a name to a face is much more beneficial in any team situation, especially if its football, so why not introduce yourselves. Like i was about to say, i'm Francis Washington, just call me Wash. I enjoy painting and long walks on beaches. It's a pleasure to finally be able meet you all"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Michael Lorentz Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington Character Portrait: Cyrus Vanbruke
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V E I N


When the man laughed at her comments, the smallest of smiles graced her plump, peachy lips. She truly enjoyed it when others appreciated her as much as she appreciated herself, and acknowledging her comedic nature could easily put you in a good standing with the woman almost immediately, as if smoothing out her feathers. No one around here had a sense of humor. She cleared her throat to make sure she didn't seem too delighted, but her smugness could not go unnoticed. She stole another glance at him.

ā€œA peanut allergy or a recreational game huh? Well most sports games imply team work, so we should at least introduce ourselves right? Iā€™m Francis Washiā€¦ā€ the man had begun, and she drank in his appearance as he spoke. He had a way of talking to the whole room, a commanding presence, she'd note. He was interrupted by the grumpy academic. ā€œI'm calling bullshit,ā€ He had sighed. Vein nodded her head empathetically as if to say "fair enough". She could understand his concern. His objection wasn't outrageous in the slightest, knowing OKARI. It wasn't a surprise when the droopy looking doctor who was leading the Betas out of the room refused the spectacled guy. When it came down to it, it didn't matter what any of them did. The organization that ran them would ravage them, fully and violently, until they'd had enough. There was no escaping it, no rebeling. It was a futile fight, but one she could respect nonetheless.

You could feel confrontation sizzling in the air like a static charge and Vein merely continued to watch the scene with a mild amount of amusement. She appreciated the spunk the Betas had. That said, when can that had been turned into a killing device was hurled at the doctor's head, and Vein didn't even attempt to act concerned for his well being. She did, however, react when the projectile was ripped into slivers and gauged the floor. "Holy shit," Vein breathed, looking about the room for the person responsible for this act. Her nonvocalized question was answered almost immediately as that man with the fringey coat began to speak. Her eyes caught onto a wire that was - "Woah, is that around his throat?" She couldn't even hear what he had to say, too distracted by analyzing his powers to listen. She only heard him say, "Can we get this going along, Betas?" Vein hadn't even realized that her muscles were slightly tensed, but as soon as she did, she went back to the incredibly languid body language she'd possessed before, lounging in her hair with her hands entwined behind her neck. She sniffed and nodded her head. "Huh. That's pretty bad ass." she commented, an observation rather than a compliment.

Then "Francis Washi-" began to talk again. "Since it seems like we'll be involved with each other for the moment. Having a name to a face is much more beneficial in any team situation, especially if its football," she snorted here, "so why not introduce yourselves. Like i was about to say, i'm Francis Washington, just call me Wash. I enjoy painting and long walks on beaches. It's a pleasure to finally be able meet you all" Jane introduced herself first, and Vein hummed. She wondered what her brother's name had been and tried not to recognize that she just used past tense when referring to him.

"Alright, my name's Vein. I occassionally turn into a walking shard of crystal in my free time." she drawled, taking another sip from her flask after her introduction. "And if I'd have known this would have been socialite hour, I woulda gotten drunk off my ass beforehand."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Michael Lorentz Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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#, as written by slcam
Irene's gaze went immediately to the door, interested in the spectacle. It seemed a couple of the Betas, a dark haired woman and this "Mr.Lorentz", were not happy with the total lack of information. It looked like it would dissolve into a fight, probably with the scientist being killed or worse. Lorentz hurled a spike at the man. It was made of some aluminum that he had been messing with before that probably had been a pop can. Irene calmly wondered if his power was simply manipulation of objects, or if it was something more complex than that. Suddenly, wires darted out from a man that Irene hadn't noticed before. One of the wires that hadn't sliced the spike, and the floor, wrapped around the scientist's neck. The mysterious man then got them going to their destination. It was supposedly some meeting, though Irene doubted that was the whole truth. With that, the Betas shuffled down the hall and out of sight.

With almost half of the prototypes now out of the room, Irene was feeling ever so slightly more comfortable. She was used to waiting quietly, though the first while she had been here she hated never knowing what was going on, she eventually became used to it. Now, however, some of the other Psi were trying to start conversation and get to know each other. She decided it would be a nice change, and she listened attentively to each introduction.

The first man, who started the conversation, said his name is Francis Washington, Wash for short, and some nonsense about painting and walking on the beach. He was a tall man with long, dark hair drawn back into a ponytail. The next was Jane, whose brother had greeted Irene. She hoped that he would be alright, but quickly pushed the thought away. It was useless to worry or become attached at a place like this where everyone was replacable. Next was the woman who called herself Vein. She seemed confident, even showing a sarcastic sense of humor that Irene found refreshing in all this blandness.

While the others were introdicing themselves, the man who had seemed busy reading a book apparently finished and was talking to a woman at the service counter. A moment later, he set a few cups of coffee infront of them while introducing himself as Zakhar. She nodded at him with an abrupt, "Thank you," before introducing herself. "I am Irene Thompson. You may call me whatever you wish, I don't much care." The statment didnt seem to be to anyone in particular, but to everyone in the room. She calmly sipped the coffee, enjoying the warmth and bitterness. It did wake her up a bit, and she enjoyed it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman

Anrie sat still in her chair as the betas completely left. The roomā€™s babble lessened once more before the man who had been chatty since the moment he had came in spoke up again. This time she listened in, getting the sense that she would be passing time with these people whether she wanted too or not.

"Since it seems like we'll be involved with each other for the moment. Having a name to a face is much more beneficial in any team situation, especially if its football, so why not introduce yourselves. Like I was about to say, I'm Francis Washington, just call me Wash. I enjoy painting and long walks on beaches. It's a pleasure to finally be able meet you all" Anrie gazed at him, wondering how he could talk so much in a situation like this where he was surrounded by possibly dangerous people and had the chance that many of them not want to talk, might simply hate him for saying anything at all. She nibbled on the inside of her cheek, a subtle sign of displeasure.

However, she waited patiently. Anrie would introduce herself in a moment when she had gathered the information from the others. How would she do it? Was a simple greeting efficient? Did they want all her hobbies? Anrie realized she was still gawking and lowered her gaze to her lap to think but a feminine voice, sounding restless, paused her thoughts and made her raise her gaze to find the speaker. ā€œJane.ā€ Anrie straightened in her seat, finding that perhaps she could find a balance in the conversational technique. If she could use a friendly approach and yet find simplicity at the same time, approval would be secured. ā€˜Hello. Iā€™m Anrie Ackerman. Pleased to meet youā€¦No that wouldnā€™t work. Is it too formal? How would I greet Santaio? A variation of that would perhaps work. Iā€™m pleased to meet all of you. My name is Anrie Ackerman. Ahah!ā€™ She found the answer to her trouble right as the next woman spoke. "Alright, my name's Vein. I occassionally turn into a walking shard of crystal in my free time." Vein drawled, taking another sip from her flask after her introduction. "And if I'd have known this would have been socialite hour, I woulda gotten drunk off my ass beforehand." Anrie placed a hand to her lips hiding the inner chuckle that didn't quite make it to her outside appearance but was there in her mind. The woman certainly had funny jokes for being such a seemingly rowdy person. Anrie brushed off the amusement and restlessly took her raised hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear and return to her own introduction.

She started to speak but a coffee cup settled down in front of her and she quieted, following the hand up to see the red-haired man. "Zakhar." Anrie nodded, and put the face to the name like she had done for the others. He seemed rather agreeable compared to her first analysis of his attitude. "It will wake you up." He gestured to the coffee but Anrie glanced to the last person to speak up and waited before she did anything. Her expression bordered on calm boredom and interest, which was an odd combination. "Thank you," The woman spoke to Zakhar before beginning, "I am Irene Thompson. You may call me whatever you wish, I don't much care." Irene sipped at her coffee and Anrie contemplated her attitude. Maybe Irene felt the same way she did? The answer was most likely not. She looked down at the sophisticated looking coffee cup sitting in front of her and she felt the corner of her lips pull ever so slightly. Almost a smile but the feeling faded as soon as it came and she exhaled serenely.

Anrie tenderly reached forward and curled her hands around the warm cup, looking into the depths of the black liquid as she prepared her own introduction, going over the key points again. Perfection was the first key.

ā€œThank you, Zakhar. Iā€™m pleased to meet you all. My name is Anrie Ackerman. I hope that we will all experience pleasant times together.ā€ She raised her eyes and cast them over the people surrounding her, emotionless strength whispering from her crimson gaze. She truly hoped that the future would bode well and that she would not be facing these people in battle. For one to have bloodstained hands was for one to place a responsibility upon their shoulders. She didnā€™t believe in this rule. She killed because it was necessary and if any of them became something that was necessary to kill, she could not hesitate no matter her feelings on it. Anrie raised the cup gingerly and took a small sip.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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Frustration seemed to pound through every single of beat of her slender fingers as the sibling tapped her nails against the table. Her restlessness showed in the tension of her shoulders and the inclination of discontent in her gaze. A gaze which seemed to refuse acceptance of anyone within that cold room. ā€œJaneā€ Sheā€™d said simply without looking up to address anyone.

ā€œThank you, Janeā€ Francis bowed.

Briefly, his sharp eyes observed Jane with hint of sorrow, like a farmer to his sick livestock before he sat down as if stepping of stage. Francisā€™ handsome face came to rest against his hand as he waited patiently for the introduction of the others. His constant grin implying his wry amusement. He didnā€™t have to wait long.

"Alright, my name's Vein. I occasionally turn into a walking shard of crystal in my free time." Vein drawled, taking another sip from her flask. Francisā€™ hazel eyes followed the motion up and down as if it where natural. "And if I'd have known this would have been socialite hour, I woulda gotten drunk off my ass beforehand." He chuckled lightly at the remark, the words suiting her prior action perfectly.

Temporarily, Veinā€™s lips betrayed the slightest hint of a smile and perhaps amusement at Francisā€™ mannerisms. Francis hummed in return to her introduction, his soft features contradicting her boldness. He appreciated her good sense of humor, a rare quality in a place such as this. ā€œHa, Never fear, Iā€™m sure plenty of other opportunities will present themselves in futureā€ He greeted her with another smile, his voice filled with mirth. His other hand gestured with a nonchalant wave whilst he looked towards her flask once more. ā€œBesides, I always hear itā€™s more enjoyable to drink in the presence of others, particularly ones as raggedy as usā€

Quite suddenly, the red haired man stood up, a tiny, dissatisfied twitch of his mouth the only indication of his thoughts. As if on some hidden signal, one of his long, spider-like limbs had discarded his book to the side like a dead fly. That book that heā€™d been so keenly reading over the course of the orientation. Zahkar was his name. A creature guided by fickle whims it seemed. Francis had merely nodded his head in agreement when the man returned with a trio of steaming cups in hand.

Another woman did likewise and nodded her thanks as she simultaneously addressed Zakhar and the group, "Thank you, I am Irene Thompson. You may call me whatever you wish, I don't much care." Her face gave of a contented look as she sipped from the warm liquid. Irene's calm figure exuded a quiet confidence and like Vein, she was bold, but bold in action as opposed to emotion.

ā€œThank you, Zakhar. Iā€™m pleased to meet you all. My name is Anrie Ackerman. I hope that we will all experience pleasant times together.ā€ Anrie was last but not least. Her quiet introduction only came after much deliberation as her mouth struggled to form the right words. Sheā€™d startled him at first, with her crimson eyes and a staunch gaze which contradicted her tender figure. Like before, her thoughts became a mystery to him. Her introduction was delivered without any inflection of emotion, her voice and attitude verging on boredom and indifference. Still, he was glad that she'd spoken at all. It meant that she wasn't completely opposed to the idea of socialising. He had to resist the urge of teasing these two woman, Irene and Anrie, their quiet personalities fueling his curiosity. Instead he settled his attention on the distinct smell of tobacco once more.

Zakhar had lit a cigarette once more in reply before speaking, the smoke hovering over his face, "Nice to meet you."

At that, Francis clapped once, apparently taking a moment to gaze at them all as he rubbed his hands together. ā€œThatā€™s everyone! Well done team Psi! And fear notā€¦ā€ He commended them all with his delighted expression, his white grin almost gleaming under the light. ā€œNo matter what situations may arise in future, no matter your pasts, I can earnestly say that is my greatest pleasure to be able to meet you all now. We all share a similar fate, so at the very least lets enjoy ourselves for the moment. These meetings don't come often afterallā€

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Michael Lorentz Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane
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#, as written by Tilt
John hesitated over the threshold, not because he was surprised at the room (he had long ago stopped being surprised at the range of environments housed in the OKARI base), but because stepping into the room was like falling underwater, like stuffing his head with cotton. He couldn't see into anyone's head anymore. There were no more sights or sounds filtering through his head. He stifled his reaction and sauntered over to the cushy, generic-looking couch. He threw him self down on it, so that he was sprawled lazily over one corner.

"It's probably just another test," he said with deliberate loudness. He had no doubt that they were being monitored in some way by someone. If there was a fight coming, he was more comfortable playing the dumb blonde than announcing his intentions. And if any of the other Betas were convinced by them and could be made into human shields, so be it.

---

Jane was annoyed when Francis accepted her curt introduction with charm and graciousness. The chatty girl called herself Vein, which was stupid. She kept petulantly silent, closing her eyes. John wasn't hurt. He wasn't panicked. Maybe she was overreacting...

"Zakhar." Her musings were interrupted when the crimson-haired boy set a hot cup of coffee in front of her. Jane almost thought he had made a joke the way he introduced himself. She eyed the cup he put in front of her, before taking it and drinking it down. She wouldn't even admit to herself that the small twinge she felt was gratitude. She sipped the drink while tapping her nails against the table, a staccato rhythm to accompany her agitation. Her fury only rose the longer they spoke and exchanged pleasantries. The girl who bored her was Anrie, the girl who stared was Irene (though apparently Jane had express permission to find a name more suitable), and golly gee, weren't they all just so thrilled to be together forever! Finally, she slapped her palm down on the table, hard.

"Pardon my manners," she snarled, "But I just want to be clear. Are we only pretending to engage in inane chatter while God know who decides who knows what about our immediate futures, or are we actually that dense?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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V E I N


Vein agreed with Francis' incentive and, as if to show it, tilted her container to the room, took another sip, and then pocketed it once more. Everyone else introduced themselves afterward, and she found that their names were Zahkar, Irene, and Anrie. She eyed the coffee that she didn't receive with a mild amount of bitterness, but she could understand why the red headed guy wouldn't have gotten her a cup as well. She was kind of an obnoxious asshole who still went by a call name she'd given herself when she was fourteen and "goth". She laughed at the word, and her own stupidity, and suddenly her desire for their coffee had vanished because she didn't really give a shit.

All of her "team mates" were weirdos, herself included, albeit they had their charms. Zakhar was awkward but sociable enough, Irene blunt but to the point, Anrie formulated by polite nonetheless, Francis chatty but well intentioned, Jane curt but the only one who didn't seem to be currently deluding herself. She wondered idly if they'd ever accomplish much of anything. Then Zak was lighting a cig and Vein considered fetching one of her own but didn't for the sake of not looking like some sort of mime.

Wash clapped his hands and began to spill out an inspirational speech. She had to applaud him for preaching to such an unmoved crowd. Clearly none of the other occupants in the room were easily enthused or even a little bit inspired, but he certainly tried. She could appreciate that kind of tenacity, though she was sure he must have been faking everything he said. No one could be that genuinely happy after OKARI. No one. So, even if she doubted his sincerity, it was noted that he gave effort to being a civil human being.

"Pardon my manners," Jane growled. "But I just want to be clear. Are we only pretending to engage in inane chatter while God know who decides who knows what about our immediate futures, or are we actually that dense?" she had said. Vein laughed, loud. She barked it out, not even trying to seem she didn't find the outburst hilarious- not making fun of her, but rather the other way around. Her spunk was refreshing, and her words rang with a truth that Vein had been thinking this entire time. Honestly, Vasanta was as frustrated with their situation as Jane seemed to be, so the vocalization was something she delighted in. She let her chuckles die out, and wiped a tear from her eye. "Pretty sure it's the latter of the two," she answered with a sigh, cracking her neck and giving one of those wry grins that really meant, "what the fuck are we doing here?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman

Anrie took a healthy swallow from the teacup before holding it close, her pinky up elegantly as if she had no worries in the world. Inside her mind however, was a flurry of questions, remarks, and comments. She eyed the cigarette that Zakhar had pulled out conveniently and wondered; did the nicotine really help to relieved stress? If it did, perhaps it was a habit she should have tried. The mental image of her smoking however seemed uncool and she discarded the idea, returning to take another sip from her own drink but found that there was none to have. She set the cup down and narrowed her eyes, the first real sign of emotion in a desolate place.

Anrie raised her gaze and nodded slightly at Francis who had begun his constant babble again. This time it was to praise them for being good kids. Anrie would have blushed if Santaio had been in that chair saying those words. No, she would have blushed and cried tears of joy. She marveled if she would ever hear those beautiful words from her favorite person. The thought was enough to want to go running to ask right then and there. Anrie pushed the thoughts away to try and refocus her attention.

ā€œNo matter what situations may arise in future, no matter your pasts, I can earnestly say that is my greatest pleasure to be able to meet you all now. We all share a similar fate, so at the very least lets enjoy ourselves for the moment. These meetings don't come often after allā€ Anrie tilted her head, vaguely perturbed by his words. In no way at all did they share the same fate. Where she believed that they would die unfulfilled and lonely, she would live to be praised and loved. This made her expression relax into a serene blankness, as if in her own world once more.

However, a rather extreme movement broke her beautiful daydream into pieces. "Pardon my manners," Jane snarled, "But I just want to be clear. Are we only pretending to engage in inane chatter while God know who decides who knows what about our immediate futures, or are we actually that dense?" Anrie sighed lightly and clasped her hands in her lap. While lost in her thoughts she had forgotten where she was, and whom she happened to be surrounded by. Of course, she didnā€™t want to become estranged like the rest of them nor become friendly. She had almost accomplished losing sight of her mission at hand.

Vein began to laugh at the tiny womanā€™s remark as if it were the worldā€™s funniest joke. Anrie scowled, not visibly able to be seen, but only noticeable by the bare quirk of her downturned lips. Her eyes were cold orbs hiding behind a mask, and behind that mask lay quiet annoyance. Vein spoke up after wiping her tears and stilling. "Pretty sure it's the latter of the two," Vein answered with a sigh, then proceeding to crack her neck in a masculine appearance, or at least it seemed masculine to Anrie. Then again, she couldnā€™t do it herself so maybe it was just jealously speaking. Anrie bit the inside of her lip reminding herself not to get carried away.

"Jane... was it?" Anrie perked, caught by the tone of his voice. Zakhar flicked his cigarette away, the movement causing Anrie to stiffen. He stepped closer to the table and she went so very still. So still, that she would have been a corpse if not for how she was sitting, watching very carefully as the situation unfolded. Zakhar placed his hands on the table meeting Janeā€™s gaze. Anrie didnā€™t bother to see the reaction of Jane. The slow display was interesting and she had no wish not to see what would happen next.

He gestured slightly to his right, where cameras hung from the walls, to where a guard stood, and to the large one-way mirror kept watch of the activity below probably hiding the scientists who had only study in mind. Anrie took this in, but then, she had already known of the watchful eye of OKARI.

"If you object.." A grin had begun to form on Zakharā€™s face, one so cruel and vicious that she glanced at Jane briefly to see if there was an attack ongoing. Her breath caught, freezing in its track as excitement pulsed through her veins. The thing however that made her so stilled and so excited was that he had remained calm in voice ever since the beginning. It reeled you in and before you could realize it, you were caught in its web, unable to run.

"They. Will. Kill. You." Anrie let out the breath she had been holding and pulled her gaze away to stare down at the table. It was the truth. Disobeying orders would get you killed. You were here not because you wanted to be. They were here because they had a job to do and unfortunately, OKARI has chosen them to do it without failure. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly to prepare her words. ā€œI agree. Most of us here probably know that they have a plan for us. However, with that in mind, OKARI wonā€™t tell us all the details. Only the oneā€™s that matter, to get whatever job it is done.ā€ Anrie opened her eyes slowly, watching her fingers fidget and rearrange themselves on her lap. ā€œMy suggestion is to wait to see what they ask of us and then to act based on that.ā€ She went silent, and raised her gaze to view the others with her calm exterior. The chatter had been better than this atrocity of a conversation, she mused.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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Francis watched the entire exchange with a mixture of something resembling mild amusement and surprise. Jane seemed to be on the verge of exasperation, her slender figure trembling with barely contained incredulity. Her long dark hair almost seemed to frizz with the outburst as her narrowed eyes fixated on Zahkar angrily. She stood forwards, slowly and deliberately bringing her face up to match Zahkarā€™s own impassive expression.

Despite his own self-evident amusement, Francisā€™ muscles tensed as he felt the conflict escalating to boiling point. His hazel eyes glared at the two, prepared to use his own power and break up the fight if necessary. He wasnā€™t overtly thrilled by the prospect of a duel between prototypes in an enclosed space such as the commons room. Not when six of them where packed in it, and especially not when it wasn't necessary. Zahkar looked sensible enough, but Jane, brimming with uncharacteristic fury, looked just about ready to start something.

By either pure luck or judgment, Anrie chose her moment to speak then. ā€œI agree. Most of us here probably know that they have a plan for us. However, with that in mind, OKARI wonā€™t tell us all the details. Only the oneā€™s that matter, to get whatever job it is done.ā€ Anrie spoke, her eyes opening to view her fingers fidget and rearrange themselves on her lap. ā€œMy suggestion is to wait to see what they ask of us and then to act based on that.ā€ She finished and gazed at the rest in silent calm.

Jane seemed to recompose herself at the intrusion, her shoulders easing and releasing the tension which had perceptibly built up within her. Francis did likewise, leaning back into his seat as his hand hovered over the table. He ran his fingers across the cold surface in waves, playfully toying with his own imagination of how the team would work together. Janeā€™s reply to Zahkar was reminiscent of a petulant childā€™s, her response practically oozing from her lips with sharp cynicism. ā€Maybe Francis is right, this is turning out to be the greatest pleasure, to make your acquaintance." She virtually hissed "So glad we're working together." At that, Jane faced her head away, sitting back down as if the matter was resolved.

ā€œSo glad somebody else agrees with me alsoā€ Francis teased lightly, perking up at the mention of his name.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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#, as written by slcam
Irene gave a small huff that almost sounded like a chuckle when 'Wash' called them 'Team Psi' like this was some sort of game. His not-so-inspiring inspirational speech was slightly irritating to Irene. What was the use of making light of their situation? It changed nothing. Though she wasn't totally opposed to small talk, it wasn't exactly easy for her. She would rather be silent, or at least talk about something more important. It seemed that Jane shared her feelings, and she angrily addressed them.

A moment later, Vein burst out laughing. It was a welcome distraction from the still rising tension. It seemed she always had something sarcastic to say, and it made Irene remeber something, or almost remember. It was really too fuzzy to be called a memory and more of a feeling of deja vu. She wondered what exactly it reminded her of, and was startled when Zakhar slapped his hands on the table next to her. Apparently what Jane said really irritated him. He motioned to the various cameras, scientists, and the guard that Irene had ignored. They were such a nartual part of her life that she never took notice of them anymore. They always did what seemed like the same thing and it was no use worrying about them here.

'They will kill you, hmmm?' she thought, noting the amused smile on his face. 'Tell us something we don't already know.' The tensions continued to grow, and Irene was concerned that a fight would start. It didn't help that she was right next to them either. She didn't even have anythng to defend herself with. Thankfully, Anrie's words seemed to calm Jane, and, with a few posonous words, she sat down again. Wash teased Jane and, though it seemed without any malice, Irene could only wonder how she would react. Vein then put in her opinion and Irene agreed somewhat, just not in the same words. Irene didn't feel there was much of use that she could say, so she again remained silent.

So far, this meeting was crazy. All Irene wanted was for someone to hurry up and tell them what they were supposed to do before things did blow up.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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ā€œNo, no, it was very good. Much better than I couldā€™ve ever saidā€ Francis said frankly, his lips forming an appreciative smile. Heā€™d half waved resignedly as a form of gratitude towards her. Looking back at the rest as the situation settled peacefully, Francis expressed his relief with a heavy sigh before scratching his own chin. Vein did have a way with words; no doubt enhanced by her pure unbridled pride. Though cocky, it seemed she could be surprisingly serious at a moments call. A voice of reason was the perfect thing this situation could use anyway. As he looked back at Jane though, he wondered just how far reasoning would work with her.

If there were still any lingering feelings of anger in that room, they were immediately dispelled. Something heavy was being wheeled through the corridors and Francis stood to attention as the elderly man returned. His reappearance immediately brought up questions on the Betas but those enquiries where also banished instantly. Like the omnipresent monoliths erected in deserts, the black wardrobe rose through the centre of the room. Itā€™s sparkling and polished surfaced invited their curiosity and attention. Francis felt his own body being drawn in by the promise of destruction, even if he already knew full well what that would mean for his future.

ā€œMy dear Psis, it seems the time to enjoy menial chatter is over. I only ask that you all go easy on me since weā€™ve become such good friendsā€ Francis winked in jest as the pitch black doors swung open. He exhaled a low whistle, his eyes soaking in the impressive array of weapons held within. Guns, knives, blades, explosives, everything glistened, shiny, new and untouched. Mentally, he pictured the blades already dipped in blood before blinking away the conjured image as Zahkar stepped forwards. He raised an eyebrow of curiosity towards the red man as he claimed a dagger before returning to the tables. Zahkar kept spinning the blade deftly within his palms, leading Francis to ponder if it was some ritual of his with a shrug.

Stepping towards the wardrobe swiftly, Francis maintained a cheerful grin as he bent down and claimed a pair of sub-machine pistols. The Heckler & Koch MP7. Like the other weapons, it smelt of fresh polish and metallic lubrication. Its black surface was gleaming and endless, absorbing the white light of the commons room like a void. Virgin weapons eager to be christened in battle and blood, he thought with grim amusement. He offered a word of thanks to the assistant who handed him the belt before holstering the guns, his attention shifted back to the weapon racks. "One main weapon is fine, but it can't possibly address every situation. So...since i like to be best dressed.."

Meticulously, he then began withdrawing a multitude of knives and explosives. His arms worked like well oiled machines as he brought each item up for inspection before it disappeared once more in a pouched compartment. Francis' choice of explosives was excessive to the point where he looked prepared to blow up the entire compound. He stood back up and harrumphed, apparently satisfied as he inclined his head at the doctor. His voice became ever so slightly sinister as he spoke, his arms still laden with several explosives ā€œI hope you don't mind me taking these also. Sorry for the waitā€ He commented before rejoining Zahkar by the table like a kid out of a candy shop.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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V E I N


At Wash's encouragement, she found herself miming his appreciative smile with her own friendly yet somehow challenging one. "Watch out: if you keep up with this flattery, I might start to think you fancy me." she chided, lighting a match, bringing it to her cigarette, and shaking it off again. There wasn't time for more chit chat because it was in that moment that the doctor had come back. "Well, looks like he's still among the living. That's good news. Wait, is that good news?" She had a hard time differentiating between the two. The man told them that they'd be training with one another for the rest of their time. She looked about the room. Perhaps she was the only one, but she actually kind of liked the Psis so far. They hadn't proved to be dull. After all, there had already almost been a fight. She almost looked forward to it, but she knew better than to do a foolish thing like that.

It didn't take Vein long to pick a weapon. As soon as the case had swung open she knew what she would be grabbing. She already had a weapon in herself, her body serving as both its own defense and offense - but there was a specific item that she knew she could really use well to add onto her preexisting strengths. Zak was first to snatch up his tools of trade.

She eyed him with skepticism, almost daring him to pick what she wanted, but he didn't, and she felt herself calm down again. She took a look at his weapon of choice and grinned, actually. It suited him. While she was busy smirking like an idiot at Zakhar, Wash had managed to go to the case before her. ā€œMy dear Psis, it seems the time to enjoy menial chatter is over. I only ask that you all go easy on me since weā€™ve become such good friendsā€ he said. She made a mental note to do just the opposite- not out of bitterness or anger, but competitiveness. Wash took his time (for-fucking-ever) with grabbing his weapons, but he, too, seemed to leave her precious treasure be. She practically purred out of satisfaction.

Then, she pounced, snatching the thing she'd been eying this whole time.

A beautiful black whip with a sharp metal tip was now clutched in her hand. With that and that alone, she pranced back over to where Anrie, Zak, and Wash all sat and wedged herself in between them. While she didn't know it, her face was almost identical to the redhead's she sat next to, and they were both probably thinking just about the same thing. Fisticuff was her language. Even when she lost, there wasn't much she enjoyed more than a good test of strength. She didn't doubt that a few of these people could probably beat the living shit out of her if she was unlucky enough- took the wrong step, lost her balance for just a second, things of that nature. Was it strange that this made her all the more excited?

For once, Vein shut the fuck up, too wrapped up in her own quiet energy to be bothered with making sarcastic comments. She simply strategized and felt her blood pump thick through her veins as she puffed-puffed-puffed at the cigarette between those lips of hers.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman



Anrie took an observerā€™s stance for the duration of the time spent chatting. Overall, Jane had calmed herself and relaxed, mimicking the appearance of casual confidence that most of them exerted. Anrie eyed her then crossed her legs over with an inner chuckle. Jane seemed like a child in wolfā€™s clothing.

She blinked slowly, brow raising half an inch in slight surprise. Anrie hadnā€™t expected any of them to really say it but Vein got straight to the point. I don't see the harm in a little mingling, myself. What's the problem with making a few pals - one, or maybe five fuck buddies? Anrie almost blushed because that would have been inappropriate. Not only that, but being naked in from of the others? That would be dangerous and embarrassing. She crossed her arms, the only indication that she was slightly uncomfortable with the notion.

ā€œOKARI wants us to play a game and, really, that's not the worst thing they could be doing to us. If I'm not mistaken, I'm pretty sure each and every one of us have spent some quality time with an operating table and- " Anrie nodded lightly. The cold operating table had become her closest friend other than the warm hand of Santaio. She had been her savior in a cruel time and she hoped to repay that. "Well, I'm getting carried away again. Point is, none of us are here by choice. Obviously. But if we play our cards right, we could have a little fun before the going gets tough." Vein stated, shrugging. Anrie mimicked the motion nonchalantly.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure everyone here understands that if we're told to, we will kill - each other if we have to. I doubt there will be many hard feelings. That's pretty much a pretense, right? Is that just me? Well, I guess there's a fair warning for you." Anrieā€™s eyes widened in shock before she raised a fisted hand to her lips and coughed quietly to cover up her surprise. "That's what we are. We're killers, no more, no less." She lowered the hand and glanced to look at the one-way glass. Vein was right. There was no changing that. Anrie sighed, not because she was bored, but because she knew that the future looked bleak.

Anrie flinched at a sound behind her but quickly covered it up. Just being around the others had already affected her and it was displeasing. She silently cursed and twisted to see the scientist from before. She observed the space behind him curiously wondering what had happened to the betas. Had they been sent to their death? She collected herself and stood to respect his entrance.

[i]"I hope you've become quite acquainted with your peers, as you'll be spending the majority of your time from now on training with them."
As he spoke, a large black wardrobe-like case was being wheeled out into the center of the commons and excitement jittered through her body as she heard the next words."I ask that you choose a weapon of your liking. Pick carefully. You will be using this specific device as your main hand weapon for the rest of your time at OKARI."

Anrie watched, as Zakhar was the first up. His weapon of choice intrigued her, as she too desired a blade. One of key strengths, Santaio had said, was her speed and agility. Her accuracy was good but not enough for a gun. Anrie waited for the next person up and noticed that Francis had taken this chance to go. Her hands fidgeted, her gaze roaming to look over the weapon that she could see on the top of the pile. Her attention broke as Vein stood and went over. Anrie watched her rustle throught the pile but it didnā€™t take her long. Vein picked up a whip and Anrie felt amusement bubble in her chest. It would be so like her to pick that.

When Vein returned, Anrie stepped out claiming the chance to get her weapon. She didnā€™t want last of the litter and she was anxious to find her perfect match. She stopped beside the cart and perused the top of the pile before shaking her head and pushing them aside, knowing just what to search for. When she found it, a small gasp escaped her lips.

It was exactly what she wanted. The blade looked sharper than anything she had ever seen before and the handle had black fabric wrapped in patterns for a good hold. She could tie a charm to the end and the length seemed just right. It wasnā€™t a katana but something shorter, although it had the same make. Carved into the blade she could see the words ā€˜Cluizel IIā€™. Anrie found a suitable sheath and belt to match it after some digging and put it on her waist, the weight comfortable already. However she wasnā€™t done. If she had the chance to get weapons now she needed all she could get out of the opportunity. She rustled through the pile and found some throwing stars and a few knives, nothing compared to Zakharā€™s daggers but good enough to damage when throwing. She slipped those into the belt and murmured a appreciative, ā€œThank you.ā€, to the man. She then strode back to the table. It had only taken her a few minutes but she waited for the next person to go as she turned her mind to taking inventory. The slight tug at the corner of her lips was unusual and barely noticed, only for someone especially observant to find, but it was a smile nevertheless.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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#, as written by slcam
At the sound of returning footsteps, only one pair, Irene looked to the door. A moment later, the same gruff scientist entered, cleared his throat to get their attention, and spoke. Irene raised an eyebrow when he mentioned that they were going to be training together from that point on. She wasn't surprised, and merely decided that Okari would do what Okari wanted to do. She had little problem with it either. She only hoped that this training would help them to mesh better as a team, though she didn't expect much. Vein was right when she said that, ultimately, they were all just killers. That was what they were trained to do, and Irene knew that she would kill whoever she was ordered to without hesitation. There was no displeasure at the thought, it was a simple fact.

Irene quickly glanced at the group of prototypes. It seemed they had a couple hot heads, an eternal optimist, a smart mouth, and a couple quiet ones, herself included. Out of all of them, the quiet, seemingly emotionless Anrie was the one who she was the most usure of out of the group. The others already showed a bit of their personalities, some of their tempers, but Anrie had given away little.

Irene's attention reverted to the large, black case that was being wheeled into the room. It was opened to reveal a large amount of varied weapons, all seeming brand new. Irene noted the weapons carefully until her eyes stopped on one particular one. It was a sniper rifle, similar to the one she had been training with, but it definitely had a few extra features. The design was sleek, plain, but it had a certain beauty nonetheless.

She watched as Zahkar quickly made his choice, an intricately decorated double-sided dagger. It was just another clue to this man, apparently was comfortable with close combat. Next was Wash, who chose sub-machine pistols and various other weapons. He certainly took his time, and Irene was surprised at the sheer amount of weaponry the man could place on his person. As soon as Wash was out of the way, Vein fairly pounced, snatching a whip without hesitation. A look of satisfaction was apparent on her face as she sat down and puffed on her cigarette. Anrie stepped forward next, picking out a katana-like blade. Irene noticed a small vestige of happiness on her face, and was intrigued that picking out a weapon had brought a definite emotion to her face, if a slight one.

As she stepped up to the case, Irene knew a similar expression to Anrie's was now on her face. A slight raise at the corner of her mouth, a certain twinkle in her eye as she gingerly picked up the rifle. Without further ado, she slung the strap over her shoulder and began looking for other things she could use. She picked up a long, durable looking dagger and was handed a belt that went with it. There was also a small pouch on the belt that she put ammunition and several explosives inside. Confidently, she walked back to the table, putting on the belt before sitting back at the table.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Vasanta "Vein" Grey Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: 4261A: Jane Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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Francis shuffled aside to make space as Veinā€™s seemingly buzzing figure squeezed itself in between Zahkar and he, interrupting his musings. Heā€™d been observing Zahkarā€™s expression with a tingling sense of dread and discomfort. Even though the red haired man had inclined his head, hiding his features from his view, Francis could feel the quiet vibe of anticipation and excitement fixated in his actions. Francisā€™ own expression formed a delighted frown as he spotted a similar grin wrapped across Veinā€™s cheeks. The irritation from her competitiveness seemed to finally affect his being, causing him to shrug dismally before raising an eyebrow at her whip. ā€œYou guys are enjoying this alotā€ He commented whilst scratching the back of his head. ā€œThough, I canā€™t tell if youā€™re all serious or not with those choice of weaponsā€

His head cocked to the side, Francisā€™ shoulders slackened comically as he spotted Anrie returning from the weapons rack, treasuring a sword in her hands. ā€œHowever, since it seems so many of you enjoy close combat; I should have plenty of shields to hide behind when things get hairyā€ He grinned with mock humour. Francisā€™ eyes glanced over the final two members, clearly wondering if Irene and Jane's decisions would follow the same trend. Ireneā€™s rifle of choice seemed to appease his curiosity however, causing him to release an inaudible sigh of relief as the woman returned to her seat silently.

At that point they were instructed to advance to the training room. Francis followed after Zahkar as he approached one of the awaiting female doctors, encouraging the woman to lead them to the VTS room. He chuckled lightly at him as Zahkar wrapped an arm around her, reminded of how heā€™d brought some of the Psis coffee earlier. They arrived in front of an unassuming door not long after. Hidden behind the wooden panel was a vast, empty void. Idly, Francisā€™ gaze reflected of the white panelled walls before being drawn to the centre of the domed roof. Like a diligent snail, the doctor retreated back to her control room, leaving Francis alone with Zahkar to ponder if OKARI had fixed the machine since heā€™d last heard of it.

He caught a frustrated sigh from the other man as he leant against a wall and in return smiled with amusement. ā€œSo friend, any theories on what weā€™ll fight?ā€

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Anrie "Line" Ackerman Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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#, as written by Akantha
Anrie Ackerman



Anrie glanced at the weapon choices of the last few people to go after finishing her own inventory check and securing the belt snug against her hips. The old man spoke up and she turned to face him stiffly, prepared for any orders they were to receive. Would it be a job like assassination, smuggling, or blackmail? She felt that she was ready, especially with the new weapon in her petite hands.

"Once you've received your weapon of choice, please make your way to the training simulator. Staff members will escort you. There, you'll train with your new weapons for no longer than an hour, and retire to your rooms. Have a nice night." The last bit was almost sarcastic, as he turned with a flat and grim expression to walk back down the lonely hallway. Anrie watched his retreat before continuing to examine the hall. Was Santaio coming to get her? Anxiety fluttered around in her emotions before she pushed it away and walked up to a stationed nurse quietly. ā€œCan you please escort me to the simulator? I donā€™t know my way there.ā€ The nurse frowned causing Anrie to glance away awkwardly before straightening and gesturing towards the door. ā€œPlease? Lead the way.ā€

With a sigh the rail thin nurse bounced towards Anrieā€™s destination. She didnā€™t bother for conversation and mutually it was the same. Once there, the nurse nodded and pointed at the room before prancing off with a grumble or two. Anrie scrutinized her, fingers twitching to hurt her. How dare she criticize her for being directionally challenged. Santaio was way better than her. Santaio would have led her directly there then made sure she was inside. Anrie stuck up her tongue before composing herself to make her way inside.

Her stoic expression, eased and relaxed, took in the scene. Zakhar and Francis were already here and she nodded a greeting at both even though they had been together not yet even an hour ago. She minutely took in the machine but had been prepared to see what she saw, so instead she took interest in propping up against the wall and listening to the conversation placed between Zakhar and Francis.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Irene Thompson Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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Francis started as the scenery changed abruptly before him. Tall fields of grass greeted his field of vision as Francis allowed a small gasp of shock to escape him. Instinctively he began surveying his surroundings and spotted the small silhouette of a barn at the same time as Zahkar. ā€œPretty niceā€ He grinned childishly, waving his hands between the grass blades.

As the overhead voice instructed them to advance, Francis found himself enjoying the change of scenery, even if it was fake. The rough texture of the fields of grass combined with the immature sun set a picturesque scene with the barn as the centrepiece. At that time, he felt like he was in a painting.

Zahkarā€™s and Ireneā€™s hastened movements invited him to follow. He kept pace effortlessly, tracking Zahkarā€™s distinguishable red hair as the other man moved ahead. As he sprinted the grass didnā€™t seem to separate for him so much as it seemed to disappear to make way for him. Francis spotted the quant wooden fence representing the barnā€™s boundary ahead of him and leapt over it. Briefly, he realised Ireneā€™s presence had suddenly vanished and wondered howā€™d the woman had hidden herself so fast.

Beyond the fence where several life sized mannequins. Mock illusions of men carrying shields and swords. Stopping to aim, Francis simply hosed the closest dummy with bullets, sending smoking woodchips splintering into the dirt. He unloaded half a magazine before his finger let go of the trigger, leaving only a deformed trunk of wood in the aftermath. ā€œItā€™s a surprisingly accurate simulationā€ His pleasant tone hummed followed by another burst of gunfire and a second ruined dummy.

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Character Portrait: Zakhar Hahn Goff Character Portrait: Francis Washington
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Francis rolled instantly, allerted by the heavy growls of something large and heavy bearing down on him from behind. No sooner had he done so did a set of giant sharpened claws impale the ground where he'd just stood. Francis spat as he rolled back up to his feet and took a fighting stance, his eyes meeting the beady black orbs of his opponent's. The brown bear roared and raised its back upright as if to meet his challenge. The wall of imposing fur stood almost a meter taller than him, making Francis look almost small and meager in comparison. "Second target eh? Seems i got a big one" Francis grinned as he glanced over at the Zahkar's leaping tigress. He could tell the red haired man was enjoying this. The bear roared drawing his attention to it once more, its thick voice seemed to reverberate the very air around them before it settled down on all fours and charged.

It's roar was met by a different kind of roar alltogether. The roar of gunfire. Francis dashed backwards swiftly, seeking to maintain his distance from the bear as his sub machine pistol rained down bullets on the the simulated mammal. Twenty... thirty, even forty bullets only served to fuel its anger it as the creature sought to disembowel Francis like a corner rat caught in its deathrows. 800 pounds of flesh crashed forwards like an earthquake as the bleeding monstrosity finally reached him, its arms drawn back in preparation to swipe.

Francis paused then simultaneously pushed his body and his legs downwards. Using the momentum, he slipped past the bear's first strike then span away casually to dodge the second strike he knew was coming. His other sub machine pistol was already prepared as Francis hosed down the bear at close range. Dozens of bullets shredded fur and flesh as his finger squeezed the trigger. Although it was slowing, the bear was driven by an apparent rage and reared around to strike Francis one last time. It threw a massive paw at the pony-tailed man, its claws like mini spears. Any ordinary man would've died instantly from such a swipe, but Francis was no ordinary man. A heavy thump, followed by a grunt as Francis' left arm caught the underside of the bear's paw, seemingly preventing it from moving any further. His right arm came from the other side as the barrel of his gun dug into the side of the bear's head. Surprise almost seemed to register across the bears face from the realisation of its situation.

Then, a final bark of gunfire before the bear fell. Francis had already snapped in another clip before the corpse could pixelate, he, unlike Zahkar didn't enjoy playing.