A world much like our own.

Kora, who had been sat listening to all this, ended up speaking, mostly out of mild irritability about how quickly this was progressing.

"Don't be such a pussy, Schofield. This is investigating, not going to war." Kora remarked from where she was sat, twisting her mjolnir around between her fingers. Her tone suggested perhaps that the fact that it was not going to war was a bit of a disappointment, but by then she had half a mind on the viking festival.

"A bunch of us stand around trying not to get into fight with drunks, another bunch go see what cryptic shit the local vamps have to say, and Dr Death over there goes to spend time with corpses, her favourite kind of people. It's not exactly Thermopylae. If they were powerful enough to fuck us up, they wouldn't need all the roman voodoo."

Oren rolled her eyes, but decided not to comment upon the werewolf's remark, instead addressing Kate.
"No-one else seems to be rushing to join me. If you want to come along, then go ahead, though I'm prepared to do it by myself. Though if people are blowing off this important work for something frivolous then I'm ot exactly going to be pleased. "

And, admittedly, Oren was not above requisitioning people who she was not pleased with for weeks of dull or uncomfortable testing under the banner of the research department. She had that much authority within SCION, and Oren had not qualms about using it to make people's lives difficult.

It was then, soundlessly, that a woman appeared near the wall. She blinked rapidly, raised her hands before her face and turned them back and forth, then grinned widely.
“Yes!” she cheered quietly to herself, before nodding at the superiors. “Hello sirs, madams. Got the message, didn’t want to cause problems with disembodied voices speaking out of nowhere.” She inclined her head, heavy with layered and wrapped braids, in a sheepish manner before she next spoke. “I was testing a new invisibility capsule, and I overpowered the thing. The container exploded but successfully released the magic, turning me invisible. I didn’t want to waste resources when I knew it would wear off eventually…” Christina trailed off, wondering if she should reveal that it had been three days and that several employees where under the impression that a poltergeist had been hired. “But I did come immediately to the briefing, I have been listening intently.” She shot a quick glance around the room at that, as several of the comments made had not impressed her, and only her professionalism had stopped her from taking advantage of the invisibility to play a trick or two on some of the mouthier agents. “I would be pleased to go along with group one, but of course I will apply myself to any other objective if so instructed.” she smiled at Oren then, as she had just missed being able to ward off the complaint about very few people wanting to help the vampire out.
The sorceress stepped back demurely and waited.

It didn’t take long for Stride to realize that she had been disregarded, and even less for her usual scowl to knot her features at the fact. While she couldn’t exactly start giving out not-so-passive-aggressive comments given the situation- after all, a cut in her paycheck was one of the last things she wanted- so she merely settled herself for sulking somewhat at the lack of attention her words received.

Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for her to calm once again, listening to Kate and Kora’s comments respectively before chuckling appreciatively. “These chicks get it,” Stride called. “But, anyway, as much as I love watchin’ random rookies n’ sorcerer guys waltzin’ around, I got a few questions ‘bout the mission again.”

Taking a moment to dust her goggles clean with the end of her sleeve, Stride glanced up at the superiors once again, bobbing her head slightly in an odd attempt at courtesy. “Not to be rude, but, uh, d’you know how long we’ll be out on the mission? Just so we can bring the right stuff n’ all.”

Before Stride could take a moment to compose her next inquiry, however, a sudden voice sounded out in the room. She blinked in surprise for a moment, and then proceeded to glance over in the direction that it had came from- and then do a double-take, given the fact that the woman leaning against the wall hadn’t been there before.

The explanation given was enough to make sense of the event, however.

Invisibility stuff.

Definitely explained the stories about random things floating that she’d picked up on.

Casually, Stride gave a nod of acknowledgement, as well as a “Mornin’,” before turning back to the head of the table, as if the sudden appearance of one of her coworkers was simply a daily occurrence. “Uh, if you all don’t mind, ‘nother question; I know you all said ‘two for group one’ n’ all, but I can’t remember you sayin’ anythin’ about the other two. There any, uh, minimum for them, or just as many as possible?”

Better to ask just in case, Stride supposed. Didn’t want to end up missing any important details, and besides; she saw no real harm in asking a few questions here and there.

"Us being the operative word here Kora." Montana idly brushed himself as he spoke. New recruits. Normally he would dismiss Kora's bravado, as he'd heard it for the past ten years. Context was important, and context he'd give. "As an organization, it's fair to say they don't have the power to take us down. As individuals an organization of cultists could catch on on a bad day."

"Though I'd like to see them try, given the fact I think we're the best there is at what we do."

Equal parts caution and bravery. Good.

The next voice that spoke, came from their formally invisible sorceress. The length and reason for her invisibility, as well as her sudden appearance, drew another smile across Montana's face. He was obviously amused. He planned to make good use of her less volatile enchantments on their outing...and perhaps a few of her more volatile ones as well.

Sometimes a good gamble got you out of a sticky situation.

"Glad you could join us Ms.Eberhart-Taroni."

(So, I sorta had to do this post in a rush, so sorry if anything is out of whack)

Liam nearly blushed at the replies. "Wait, is that how I just sounded? Sorry, I didn't mean to say that I was better then anyone or anything else that was negative or what not. Its just, this is the first time I can really safely speak my mind about this instead of having to put up with it, because as you can probably understand, its really hard to get people to believe you when you look like this. Its just, what you said sort of sounded insulting, so I was just trying to convince everyone that I can handle my own. Not that I would go all 'I am superior to all of you".

With that said, he then added. "I am sure everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. I was just trying to say I don't plan on being a liability, and that you can count on me. I guess the message kinda got miscontrued I guess, sorry about that. Does that help clear things up?"

LIam then did thing of one thing. He looked back towards the leaders. "Hey wait, is there any time we are all supposed to leave, do we leave immediately, or do we just leave and meet there as soon as any of us are ready individually?"

Fel was completely taken aback by Arc's offer that she join him going to Brazil. She was even more surprised when he left the room without waiting for her response. Was she expected to go to Brazil with him and just wait in a safehouse? The thought of waiting around in a safe location while other people got hurt made Fel feel sick to her stomach.

If she went to Brazil with Arc what if something happened to one of her fellow agents and friends while Fel wasn't aviable. Or what if a normal person saw her during this operation. The thoughts keep coming causing a gaint knot to form in her stomach.
As if understanding the negative thought loop Fel was going through. Montana's touch was a gentle reminder of that he would be there to help her no matter what. Moving her hood in Montana's direction she spoke up. "I agree, I don't think I'd be useful to anyone if I waited in a safe house in Brazil for an hour. I can take care of myself when talking to the werewolf population if need be."
After she spoke Fel looked around the room quietly observing everyone's reactions. Issac was worried about them, it was a sweet sentiment but his wording towards the higher ups came off as more brash than kind.

Jonah and Liam, two men trapped in children's body her, heart went out to the pair. Curses of any kind were never fun. As the duo named off the witch that had cursed them she could not help but wonder if the pair were part of scion out for revenge.
Then there was Stride, sitting there looking like she was about to laugh. The Medusa always had a way with words. Even if Stride was blunt to a fault her words were always the truth. The truth seen by the Medusa that is.

It was at this point her hood tured to look at Issac. She felt the start of his attack, the feeling of pain radating from the solider grew stronger with each passing second. It was at this point Fel stood up starting to approach the man as his hand feel to the gun at his side. Before she could reach Issac the pain faded to the normal background hum that usually accompied the man.
As Fel reclaimed her seat Kate spoke up and a smile appeared on Fel's unseen face. Kate was as sturdy as a the rock she was. Having the lifespan of a rock gave the miss Opal a timeless wisdom. Fel silently agreed with the way Kate chided their new rookies.

Oh Kora, the werewolf viking princess tended to think of battle first and emotions second. While frustrating to Fel at times it made Kora's reactions predicable to a tee.

When Christina appeared Fel was not surprised, after all Christina was known to go overboard with an experiment or two. In the same way Oren tended to go overboard researching. That was perfectly fine with Fel after all Christina's illusion magic was the only way Fel could go out into the world without every mortal around staring at the fallen.
---------

Crystal wanted to sink lower into her seat. Issac's word's echoing in her head, making her want to cry. The painful memories were starting to resurface, the loss of her own family so recently making her want to cry. Now was not the time to morn, now was the time to kick some crazy supernatural's ass.

Then came her fellow rookies, Liam and Jonah's, outburst about their age. Followed by the talk about young werewolves ripping people apart. Yeah the feeling of wanting to disappear and was back again.

Instead she put on a fake grin and replied to her fellow rookies "Nice to meet ya shorty. I'll make you a deal I won't underestimate you if you won't underestimate me."

When Christina appeared about of thin air Crystal couldn't help but jump in her seat. She was not expecting someone to pop out of thin air. On the bright side if this was the reason the mysterious ghost rumors had started occurring then she could clean up the salt circle from around her bed.

Trying to cover up the fact Crystal had been surprised by Christina's appearance she spoke up. "I want to know that too Liam, are we going as groups or individually. Also are we responsible for our own transportation? Cause I can't afford anything but a bus, and buses in my experience take forever and are usual late.

Alexander simply waved leo's comment off as he addressed the werecat " Saffiya my dear..why did you not tell them to let you lead with that... cults practicing magic is worrisome.. Human sacrifice magic even more so... and its linked with the wolves to add the proverbial cherry on top" he said for once addressing one of the leaders by her first name, more so in a sign that his words should not be taken all that seriously, though with the commotion that followed round him they probably wouldn't take much notice.

Along with most of the room his attention was brought to the new recruits, who had in spectacular fashion managed to garner more attention than they intended, however he stayed quite content in simply watching the situation unfold as various people chastised the recruits. Though soon he decided to speak up, towards now visible woman who had just appeared " That explains the wall seeming to give off body heat"

" Speak of team composition's as some have suggested" he motioned to Stride with his hand " I think the limits will be as needed... For example it would be Extremely useful if i could borrow Norrevinter for the first meeting with the wolves but then give her to team two to police the festival" he changed his focus onto Kora " Of course if that's acceptable to you.. it would only be for the wolves.... i will spare you from listening to cryptic shit when i go speak with the vampires"

Issac haddn't seen Fel's movement so he couldn't react to that.

"Don't be such a pussy, Schofield. This is investigation, not going to - " Issac listened to Kora with his moot face, He respected her as a co-worker but questioned her blood-lust since he had met her. He smirked at the Roman bit and Montana again, clarifying what Issac had meant. He'd have to thank the man later.

Issac found him self nodding to Strides comments, tossing those into his considerations as well.

Christina appeared as if from thin air, Issac seemed not to notice, he'd probably ask her about it later tho.

Liam had spoken to the group as a whole, the 10 year old side showed fairly well.
Issac gave an apologetic smile and shrugged his shoulders. " I''ve seen many FNGs with the same spark meet an early grave because of lack of planning, not just in this organization." Several faces skirted the edges of Issac vision, and he felt his stomach slither down through his bones and gather at his boots like sand. He'd rather not lose anymore comrades, egotistical or otherwise. " As for your liability, well we are a bit like the knights of the round table here now arnt we? Would you really be here ;if you were going to be a liability I mean?" he'd talk a bit more to the new recruits if they pressed for conversation but his attention would fade, politely, back to the groups discussion rather quickly.

Issac watched the rest of the group as the conversation went round and round, he'd wait to speak again until it was his time again.

" If the first group would like a little extra security I wouldn't mind going with them" He chimed in while the others requested positions, later when the conversation circled back he added " Assuming we do as Alex suggested and the plan works well, what are we gonna do if we do make contact? Less than lethal, or shall we burn that bridge when we cross it?"

Christina smiled a bit when several other reacted with shock to her reappearance to visibility. The young trainee's, Crystal's reaction, was especially amusing, though the girl played it cool pretty well after the initial shock.
"Yes, good morning everyone!" she greeted, looking around at those that had spoken specifically, then turned to address Montana and Alexander individually. "Technically, I was here from the start," -said cheekily, to Montana- and "So you could sense me but not see me, right?" -asked of Alexander, while she pulled out a small notepad, that was scribbled over with notes already, to record the vampire's information.
The goal had not been complete invisibility, only visual disappearance and Christina was sure she'd succeeded from the tests she'd done during the three days she'd waited for the capsule to wear off. First things, first, it was clear that she'd vastly overpowered the charm, which had been meant for 12 hours, not approximately...68. She jotted that down as well, after checking her watch twice to make sure. And the overpowered nature of the charm also meant that either her calculation had gone completely wrong Unlikely she thought, or she'd made a mistake in the etching More likely, or the two most likely, either that the material or shape had somehow amplified the power, or that it had somehow sucked in excess magic before affecting her. More notes were written down before she again looked up.
"All good questions," she chirped, flipping to a fresh page in her notepad. She fixed her eyes on the mission heads, waiting to hear their answers and then write down the responses.

"Technically you were my dear." He replied, shooting a playful wink back in her direction. "But regarding our current matters, Mr.Wiseman," He turned his head to face the Elder Vampire when he spoke. "Given the sordid history between Vampires and Werewolves they might not react well to your questioning."

His face grew thoughtful for a moment.

"Then again, that might work in our favour, a violent outburst, if maintained, can lead to useful information." "Possibly of course, it's always possible they know nothing, however unlikely. For that reason I second the idea to have rotating teams. Aside from those escorting Ms.Kovalenko of course. They will be working with her for hours at a time, and I'd rather not see their cover compromised. Or their train of thought disrupted."

"New recruits, I hail from a Cold War era of espionage. I will not be openly interacting with many of you. If I receive a message via earpiece, and it's not urgent, I will wait a minute or two to respond, or not respond at all. The same for messages received on our devices."

Also drop boxes, but he wouldn't mention that now. Some methods he'd prefer to keep to himself and one or two other people.

"Your cover is important. Practice it. Posing as lovers or friends is common, but it must be practiced. You must look and be comfortable around that person. It makes exchanging information and moving as partners much easier. If you have a skill, work it into your persona, be yourself. Or someone else, it's up to you."

Toby and Spire arrived in York to be slapped in the face with the preparations of the Viking festival. Norse mythology galore. Runes. Some moron dressed up like Odin, live crow and all. Depictions of horses with too many legs. Mjolnirs for sale alongside those ridiculous horned helmets. And there was surely more to come.

Festivals.
Freaks always slithered out of the woodwork for these kinds of things. It seemed about half of the Schippers brothers' investigations were born out of obscure festivals in uncomfortably small towns or in old, culture-rich ones. York was certainly the latter. Another day, Toby and Spire might have half-enjoyed a lazy appraisal of the city and its architecture, but they weren't here for the gardens or the museums. They were here for the corpses, which was why they found themselves loitering outside the very morgue at which SCION operatives would soon arrive.

The tall brothers spoke quietly side by-side, half sitting against a sturdy cast iron fence on the opposite side of the road where they could see the facility, conducting a unique brand of reconnaissance.

"Definitely wolves around here, but I'm not sure what k--what killed these guys," said Toby, the younger of the pair, a soft-edged, mousy-haired, and altogether trustworthy-looking young man. He lost all hope of coming off formiddable somewhere between the speech impediment, the big, perpetually concerned, golden retriever eyes, and the argyle sweater under his blazer --the blazer conveniently hiding the firearms weighing at his sides. "I'm a little...it's hard to tell because I think--they've got something else in there that's not human."

"What is it?" asked Spire with a drawl of casual boredom in his voice. He excelled at coming off nonchalant...and it helped that he wasn't terribly concerned or interested in finding monsters if they were already dead.

"I don't know," said Toby, blinking hard as he tried to extend the reach of his weak sensory sorcery through concrete walls. "I've never felt it before. It's--it's icky."

"Icky. Is that the scientific term or does it just sound technical?" Spire said with a sidelong smile.

The elder Schippers  brother didn't look much like Toby's brother at all. His speech and mannerisms were relaxed, his hair darker, straighter. His face looked like it had been carved with one of his own sharp knifes, all straight lines and careful angles. If Toby was a golden retriever, Spire was a wolf.

And that had always been the case, even before the wolf part got, you know, literal.

Spire's quip didn't win a returning smile. "We should g--get in there," Toby suggested, anxious under the cloying, alien presence of the thing inside.

Spire pushed off from the fence with a conceding shrug, tucking his hands in the pockets of his slim gray coat. He could be patient. There would be plenty of work to do here.

Between sparse but suspicious news reports, a conspiracy theorist blog that had paid off in the past, and Toby's uncanny intuition for drawing to the supernatural, they had found themselves on a plane and halfway across the world, and not for the first time. A little hospital security certainly wasn't going to slow them down.

Shadow travel was a neat magic. Rafael had picked it up from a voodoo doctor in the southern bayous of Louisiana some 70 years before. It was due to this Shadow Travel that he had been able to travel to York in a matter of seconds were es it would take the rest of the team well over a few hours to get there. \

After...borrowing a admittedly nice looking mustang import from some poor persons open garage, Rafael arrived at the safe house. He had known this safe house was here before the "Big wiggs" as he called them, had informed his co-workers. Perk of being a veteran member of S.C.I.O.N.

He had set him self up in the small house at the edge of town and went for a stroll. As he entered the town, something vary familiar came across his magical senses: Ware-wolf. This was strange to him, Kora nor the new born Lycan could have beaten him there. Hell, by his count, they were most likely still in the meeting.

It wasn't one of Koras kin either, he had dealt with them before and knew their presence well enough. As he walked through town, hat down low, hand in his pockets, and a cigarette in his mouth; he could make out two lycans in the area. Different enough that he could tell they were different people, but close enough they might have been siblings.

Turning the corner, he found just that. Two, lycans, from their looks, brothers. With out bashing an eye, he made for the curb and crossed the street. Keeping them in his vision, he walked to an ally and slipped in to his, hiding him self in the shadows. He could tell they were casing the joint. This worried him and made him smile lightly, "These two arnt ours, oh no, but they are smart enough to work like we do" he thought to him self.

He could only grin some more as he watched them make their way inside.

"I'm up for it if you are, old man." Kora replied with a shrug, regarding the Old One ad his suggestion. Kora would, if she was being totally honest, prefer not to hang around with vamps, thry sort of gave her the creeps, but work was work and did require her to adhere to some degree of professionalism.

Plus she was likely to be able to get more out of the wolves than old Dracula was whilst going solo. By Lyco standards, Kora was an enlightened, renaissance kind of werewolf as far as attitudes towards some of the other cryptid species went. For some packs out there, the only good kind of vampire was the kind whose head was lying about a half mile from the rest of him.

Oren on the other hand had addessed Isaac.
"If you can keep things quiet and stick to brief you're welcome to come along, you never know who might be skulking around in these things. Same for you."

She indicated CHristina with a gloved hand, evidently entirely unfazed by her suddenly appearing.
"Keep the magical bullshit to a minimum and we'll get along fine."

As much as Oren got along with anyone. Her measure was more 'grudgingly tolerate' than any actual mutal respect.

Meanwhile Leo decided to redress order.
"You will leave as soon as you've collected your things and you will return when the objectives are complete. We need plenty of boots on the ground there. The objectives will change depending on the information we receive. Miss Wakahisa has taken the time to prepare briefs for all of you with details on your false identities if you are questioned, anyone who neglects to collect one or ignores your brief, do not expect us to step in and bail you out if you end up being arrested. You should all know there are other safety nets to prevent the world becoming aware of cryptid activity, but they do not end well for the person discovered, so stick to your brief and do your job. We've arranged for a flight out there and once you arrive there will be funds in the local currency made available to you. The most active local werewolf packs get together to hunt on the North Yorkshire moors most evenings, the local vampires are a small clan known as the White Rose that are focused around the town of Whitby but who have branched into the infrastructure in York. They manage themselves and fight off any encroachment from other clans. Their ruling family are reasonable enough, if you catch hem on a good day. Seek them out if you need to.

Aside from that we're generally dealing with disparate cryptid populations and small groups, if you encounter any then do start talking, supernaturals love to gossip.."

After heeding a the words of his higher ups ,Issac's heels clicked together when he answered Oren, " As you command." It wasn't a sarcastic answer, just the one he had always used . " I'll go prepare then. " With that he did a well practiced about face and walked out the door to his room.

He felt un-easy walking out of the meeting with very little to go on, odds are this was going to turn into something heavy, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it was just the unease that had vexed him as of late... He'd have to talk to Fel about his worsening Panic attacks. The thought of the Fallen had stirred an odd mixture of emotion in the man, namely embarrassment. Fel had a knack for cutting through his emotional wall, that alone unnerved him. He grumbled slightly at the thought of actually asking to be seen by her.

With a defiant snort he turned into his room and began to pack his belongings for the trip over there. A few pairs of civilian clothes, his covert body armor and his Fantasy book collection. His room had never looked very lived in , but taking what few personal touches he had from the place made it feel empty. frustrated for no determinable reason he huffed, they were to be leaving soon, he'd need to blow off what ever was causing this mood before they left. After making sure everything had been packed he left for the armory, requested his kit to be readied and made a phone call to one of his old friends who now owned a Private jet , after all that he'd be down at the indoor weapons range blowing off some steam with some well placed shots from his little .22 caliber target rifle. He always argued with some of the other boots that there was more to learn from a .22 than a '50cal'.

After a while he went back to the armory and picked up the things he had asked for, then back to his room to finish getting ready , He'd change into his Civilian clothing , tucking away his USP 45 and Sig 320 in their normal places before heading out. The other weapons, one in a suit case and one taken a apart and stuffed into a small backpack were his DTA SRS-A1 , A bullpup bolt action rifle that could be fitted with various parts to fit most military calibers, He brought a 6.5x47 Lapua for urban shooting, it would suppressed quietly enough to be fired and no one would really question a snap or two no louder than a book being dropped, and a .338 Lapua magnum for some heavy hitting ability, Even suppressed this might alert some , but it was better to have it and not need it then need it and not have it. In the other backpack was his 6.8 x 39 Grendel Ar-15, another weapon that suppressed nicely but offered enough knock down power to be suitable for combat with the supernatural.

That with about 15 magazines for each one weights roughly 80 pounds, he signed out one of SCIONS cars and went to the airport where his friend was staying. After flashing some paperwork and a story about a hunting trip in Montana he was safely on his way.

"So, who do we know in York?" Liam asked as they entered their room. "Didn't we go there once?"

Jonah turned to face him. "Yes. I do. I am surprised you don't, considering you made out with a five hundred year old vampire there who was in the body of a nine year old girl".

"Ah yes, the one time either of us could make out without it being weird" Liam remembered. "And you are one to judge. You have had a strange relationship with Rebeca for the past few decades. Yes, she might be struck with the same curse as us, but you two get along so great but never stay in the same place for too long".

Jonah blushed, and threw a pillow at him. "Shut up Liam. Lets just get there".

It took awhile, but the two eventually made it to Yorkshire. Jonah had to use a bit of magic, but he made sure no one noticed. When they did arrive, they started to head towards the safehouse. But shortly after leaving the airport, contact was made with them. A high ranking White Rose Vampire named Tomas, and his guards. "You two are back. You don't plan on making any trouble this time, right?"

While most might be tense in this situation, Jonah was not. Liam, on the other hand, was face to face with that one vampire girl's father. Jonah took the lead and smiled. "Only the fun kind!"

"Good answer. It is nice to see you again, friends" he said with a smile, shaking Jonah's hand. He then looked towards Liam. "Relax, I am not going to kill you or anything like that. What brings you both here anyways?"

"The blood, and the possibility of a large black magic ritual. And the fact I am actually using the term Black magic should let you know how concerned I am".

"You are opposed to using the words unless it seems like the most darkest and most dire of magics. You believe your witch might be connected? How is the search for hher going anyways?"

Liam smiled. "Well, we just tipped off SCION to her, so hopefully it will get a lot easier. Anyways, what do you know about the blood?"

"Just that we are forbidden from drinking it, and that there are rumors any vampire that does will die. I won't deny this, several vampires believe this is some attempt to taint our blood supply and starve us out. They believe sorcerers or werewolves might be behind this, and are calling for revenge".

"Please tell me this is nowhere close to action" Jonah said.

"If vampires acted everytime something like this came up or these words were spoken, we would be in constant war. That said, it is stronger then normal, so there is a chance. Everyone has their own opinions. I would recommend seeing Granny. She always knows the most, and you are on good terms with her still. Just, be careful. I don't have that many interesting friends".

And with that, Jonah and Liam continued their trip towards the safehouse. Liam sighed with relief.

Arc grabbed the last of his things and headed to meet his LT. It was a long walk, and he was hoping nobody had been observant enough to see him leave base before their meeting was adjourned. He pulled out his black facepaint, and covered his face. He heard the chopper incoming, but it didn't sound quite like his LT's. And it was white. He didn't think much of it, maybe a new model or something. The chopper landed at the far end of the courtyard, and Arc made sure to be fast about leaving. LT smiled as Arc hopped in.

"Where's the others?" Arc questioned, wondering if they really were even coming.

"Just you, in and out, we're going to land you in a favella .5 a mile south of the warehouse. here's the co-ordinates." LT said as he handed him a slip of paper and a radio. Odd, last he heard he was to maintain radio silence. He lit a cigarette, and looked as his paper.

" 00 RS, DNC, R: DNC.

W, 1/2mN, RR, 4D" Shit, got no way out now. Somethings up."

The ride was quiet the rest of the way, besides the occasional flick of a lighter, and subsequent pufing of a cigarette.

"Good luck." LT said as Arc hopped out of the chopper, and made the 30 foot slide down a rope. He quicly moved towards the warehouse, where fighting already seemed to be going on. Looked like a group of NATO soldiers were attempting to make a move. Arc moved quietly across the driveway, and behind a small squad of patrolmen firing at the last two Nato soldiers. He unsheathed three throwing knives, took aim, and went. He hit the first two in the back of the head, and they dropped. He waited for the third to turn around, and caught him in the eye, and quickly ran up and snapped the mans neck. Easy enough. Things were different once he crept into the door. something wasn't right, there was, well, nothing, except a cage with a few people, andwhat seemed to be a werewolf. Then it clicked. He'd been burned, sector 7 didn't like how much he knew. Those weren't real Nato soldiers. they sent him here to die. "I'll slit your damn throat LT." he whispered to himself before entering the room with his machete in hand. Footsteps behind him. He turned as he swiped at knee level with the machete, dismembering one of the fake Nato soldiers, before decapitating the other. The first one showed his fangs. Vamp.

"That uniforms not yours." Arc spoke as he stomped the Vamps left elbow out. The Vamp took a large chunk out of his leg with its right arm. arc swiped down with his machete, removing the arm at the elbow. And then, he snapped. he stomped the knee of the Vamp out,before mounting, and began punching him in the neck, breaking his windpipe. The vamp latched onto his wrist, but Arc barely even noticed the bood flowing as he took the but of his machete and broke the vamps teeth. He saw a tear run out of the vamps eye, as he endlessly beat on it. The face was unrecognizable. he dragged the semi-lifeless corpse in front of the cage, looked atthe one wolf in the eyes, nodded, took out his pistol, and shot out the lock. Thegate swung wide, and the wolf went at what was left of the vamp. The ones who were in human form ran off rather quickly. Arc took the radio, and said this.

"I'm going to cut you up, piece by fucking piece, and I'm going to make your family watch as I do. I will find you, and I will kill you." and he proceeded to throw the radio as far down the warehouse as he could.

Now, getting back. Luckily, he had a contact who owed him a favor. He hopped into the only vehicle on the premisis that looked like it was semi functional, and drove into a local favella. He made the call.

"I need you to get me into Europe by tomorrow. I've been burned, so no commercial."

"Thats a tall order coming from a man in uniform."

"You owe me, do this,and I owe you. That simple. Or I can kill all of your boys on the docks and steal a boat, its up to you. Either way, I'm getting to Europe."

"Alright, meet me at the yard ASAP, We've got a shipment headed for London leaving in 45, and there's a helicopter that could quite possibly be dropped off at the clients house."

Arc clicked off the phone, and sped his way to the docks. His contact was standing next to a very small, one man chopper. This would be fun. Arc hoppedin, started it up, and took the paper from Guervo. He nodded, and tookoff. It was only a few hours flight, andthe time went by fast as Arc was quite a chopper pilot. He landed on top of a large penthouse, and hopped out.

Once on the ground, he made a call to Montana.

"Whats the location, and I could probably use Fel's, assistance. His hand hadn't slowed down bleeding much, and his leg was a mess.

Toby and Spire had only made it a few feet into the parking lot when Toby's spine stiffened like he had been pumped with electricity. Spire's hand was in his jacket over his weapons in a second as he cast his brother an expectant look. Toby  regained composure quickly, continuing to walk in case they were being watched.

-"Remember that one time in Haiti?" Toby asked under his breath as he tried not to cringe at the flood of sorcery that had just washed over his senses. "Sort of like that. Back there." He steadied himself mentally, trying to sense the location with more precision.

Spire's mouth curved up at one side. "Awfully coincidental, that." He palmed a small, bright  razor in one hand. Wouldn't want to go firing shots in the middle of the day, and if it came to that, Toby was the quicker draw and the sharper aim, anyway.

"Alleyway," Toby said confidently.

"Well," said Spire easily. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

The dead could wait.

They circled round and strode purposefully toward the alley. Rafael might have hidden well enough from sight, but not from Toby's aura detection, and not from Spire's sharp hearing and sense of scent.

Toby stood frowning at the mouth of the alley while Spire leaned smilingly against the side of one of the stucco walls, folding his arms and crossing one foot, toe-down on the gritty pavement, the picture of ease though every muscle in his body was on alert to move fast. 

"This is certainly suspicious," Spire remarked, his pearl gray eyes fixed right on Rafael. "Kid, I think we're  being watched."

"We know what you are. What d--what do you want?" Toby asked, wary.

Rafael smiled. "You know, and I speak from many years of life experience, most pure blood Lycans have an extremely large amount of difficulty in detecting me, let alone a pair of made lycans such as your self." He stepped in to the light and made a show of opening his suit jacket to reach for the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket, and revealing the Luger, loaded with silver ammunition, snug in its shoulder holster. Closing his suit jacket, he brought the cigarette to his mouth and snapped his fingers twice. A small flame appeared in his hand and he lit it with it.

"And yes, I know what you two are, Lobos, how ever, I guess you could say I was presently surprised when you managed to find me." Seeing the blade in the elder brothers hand, Alihambra smiled again and took a puff of his cigarette. "That blade wont do you much good, Lobo, and im not your enemy" he took another puff, "My objective, and the objective of my coworkers, lies with in that morgue." He nodded to the building behind them. "However, I can...travel faster them said coworkers, so at the moment I am the only one in country, that is why I would like to offer a deal."

He would walk towards the two men and put his right hand out. "But first, I do believe i have yet to introduce my self; I am Rafael Jose Alihambra, resident head sorcerer and lead field magical expert of the S.C.I.O.N organization." His left hand would slip in to his pocket and take out two small wight cards. "My Card."

Fel bowed to elders of Scion, her simple way of paying respect to those who were guiding them on the mission. Then she went get her cover story, a 30 year old handicapped burn victim from India. The cover of being a burn victim was not unheard of to the Fallen, however it was her least favorite cover as more of her skin was exposed then she liked.

With one last sigh Fel removed her cloak and started wrapping herself in bandages. Making sure to cover most of her skin, it was only her hands and half her face left untouched. Even with all the bandages her visible skin was scarred, with a missing index finger on her left hand.

One of the perks of this guise was the wheel chair she got to use. The chair was hand made by scion and stuffed to the brim with hidden weapons and tools, perfect for any situation.

With a few bribes from scion and the pity her state tended to get her Fel was able to get through the small airport without any incident. With Montana's help pushing her chair of course.

The hard part was flying, Fel gripped the seat the whole time the terror was evident in the fallen's eyes throughout the fight.
When the plane landed Fel wanted to cry out in joy, being on the ground again was a wonderful sensation.

After the long flight the trip to the safehouse felt relatively short. It was there Fel waited for Arc, her new wheel chair pusher and partner on the mission.
-----

Crystal was excited, her cover of a college aged backpacker was awesome. She even got to take a giant warn backpack full of weapons, outdoor survival supplies and money. While it would be a lot for a normal person to carry the newly turned werewolf had no trouble carrying the pack.

The moment the plane touched down Crystal was off to the safe house. Her blood was pounding with excitement, and the temptation to head to the festival instead of the safehouse was steadily growing. The only thing that stopped her was the thought that if she screwed this up her first mission then it would be her last mission. Luckily for her, this was the only time she had to meet up at the safe house. After that she would be staying in a local youth hostile and keeping an eye on (enjoying) the festival.

Meeting adjourned Montana was hopeful that some of the knowledge imparted to the new recruits had stuck with them. It would be their lives, livelihoods, as well as the lives and livelihoods of the residents of York at stake here. In the event that this was a little bigger then a few murders by a group of a zealots. He had given Fel's shoulders a reassuring squeeze before he left, happily peeling off the tight material of the prototype stealth suit to wash the day away in his shower.

It didn't take him long to get ready. His years in espionage and war had left wherever he was living perpetually packed. You never knew when you had to make a quick exit, and the window of safety was often one that closed in a matter of minutes.

However, this was not one of those white knuckle, KGB hot on your trail moments, so the extra time he had he used to get his outfit in order, and go over his dossier.

The outfit first. An ash grey overcoat, form fitting as was the Euro cut three piece suit he wore. Montana's typical idea of 'dressing down' was a suit without the waistcoat, but for covers sake he had packed some less formal wear. His cover was simple, personally chosen the details were in the rest of the teams dossiers as well. Amateur photographer. William Arthur Adam Pavitt. A&A photography. He had a decent portfolio, and was essentially a young man with too much time on his hands. This cover would justify most erratic movement, as well as prolonged time in multiple areas. 'Amateur' being the significant word here. It would leave him with plenty of wiggle room with professionals who would dismiss him as a man more into photography for image then anything else.

He had also taken the time to rest out rooms ahead of his arrival. A hotel, a flat, and two small cottage, and a temporary storage space. The hotel was top line, a notch below five star at a much more agreeable four. The 'Hotel Du Vin York' a boutique hotel with a wonderful reputation and an agreeable staff. He had had rented adjoining rooms both a decent size. The flat was largely unremarkable, and the building was largely unpopulated. Two things that fit his needs perfectly. York had a lovely array of cottages, he chose two. They were both fairly close to one another, close enough to be in running distance.

Each location would have hand held weapons placed in strategic areas prior to his arrival, courtesy of the lovely women and men of S.C.I.O.N. Europe. Montana would, of course, fiddle around with the locations on his arrival, but he found them to be a largely imaginative group of people, and often agreed with their placement choices. His personal firearm, a heavily modified 1911, given functionality courtesy of their tech department that the original model could only dream of, was stowed on his person. So was a nice selection of pistol magazines hand picked for any particular foe he might run into. A few nonlethal weapons were always in his repertoire. Killing was a messy business reserved for the right situations.

Espionage wasn't a joke, it required a deft hand and dexterous mind. A soft fist and a hard palm. These locations weren't for leisure, they were function. He wasn't against unwinding for personal and practical reasons, but their significance was completely mission oriented. His team members could get their locations on request, and stay in them with his permission.

Only one person had all four addresses.

"Fel dear, are you all ready?" Montana's last stop before leaving the S.C.I.O.N. headquarters was Fel's room. He was going to escort her through the airport, and would stay with her until they parted on arrival in England. Touchdown came in a few hours, and he was once again on British soil.

"Arrived, are you hot, extent of issues."

He lingered where each eager taxi awaited new passengers for the response. The moments where personal overlapped mission lead to a set of liabilities that threatened success were an issue to manage. Not unmanageable of course, but an issue.

"I'm at the desired location, where are you."

His voice was low, and turned into his coat. First priority was taking care of his comrade. After that, he and Mr. Longbow would be having a chat.

During the flight which had been several hours , Issac went a head and made his personal cover , asking a favor of the CIA. They informed him that they would verify that he was working on a joint drug trafficking case if anything went down. On arrival Issac thanked his friend , went and rented a Black Chevy 2009 LT, and drove most of the way to the safehouse a few hours later. He parked a few blocks from the safehouse, and walked the rest of the way. He looked like any other American tourist, Lost and wandering , jeans and a old beat up Vietnam field jacket. Taking a not so direct path to make sure no one had fallowed him he finally came to the safehouse. On arrival he noticed a set of tracks and foot prints, someone had made it there before him, not to surprising.

He knocked a few times before turning the safehouse-key and poking his head in. " Hello, hello." He said in a cheery, don't-pay-attention-to-me-I'm-a-tourist tone. Just on the off chance it wasn't one of his comrades inside he might be able to play his being their off.

Stride was fairly satisfied with her cover story.

Mitzi Pond, aged 23, college student and aspiring cosplayer. Quite the fan of nordic culture, as well, providing a relatively simple backstory for the hybrid to fall on if need be. As was the norm with many college attendees, Mitzi had found herself low on funds and swamped with work, forced to scramble at the last minute in order to pull together a somewhat decent excuse for a costume. It would allow for her to wear something that wasn’t exactly impressive- making it easy for her to slip past the attention of eager photographers and tourists- and something that wouldn’t take her an unnecessary amount of time to get dressed in. It had the additional benefits of being far more comfortable than a fully fledged costume, and providing mobility where stiff joints and carefully molded fur lacked.

It had taken Stride a while to get ready, admittedly. She had taken more time than she would have liked to put on a wig and properly secure it, and find a wardrobe that allowed her to hide what was...necessary without being too bizarre when her mask and outfit were unavailable. Stride eventually settled for tossing in a few scarves and heavily tinted glasses into her luggage. It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to claim that she was from the desert, and that the chill of Europe was enough to make herself huddle up in such warm clothing.

Besides the basics of clothing and costume, Stride had also taken the time to pack away the necessities of hygiene, as well as a few manageable knick-knacks- namely, a pair of earbuds and a small music player- into a few other pockets of her suitcase. After all, while she had the blood of a supernatural flowing through her veins, there were still essentials, and leaving them before going on what could possibly be quite the lengthy trip was foolish.

Her beloved pair of MP7s, her old friends, had been lovingly stashed under her coat. SCION would allow for neat passage, giving her little to worry about. As such, she packed a fair amount of ammo as well, and placed the rest of her gadgets and tools in a separate case.

Instead of approaching Montana in hopes of obtaining a room- or anyone else, for that matter- the woman had set about checking her persona into a hotel. It wasn’t a particularly luxurious hotel, yes, but from the reviews it was hygienic, and somewhat roomy. It would give her enough space to put away her things and get ready each day, at least. Didn’t want to waste too much money than necessary.

Upon reaching the designated safe house through means of taxi, Stride adjusted the black locks upon her head, assuring herself that they were still securely in place before trotting up to the entrance. She was quite proud of her little ensemble, but damn was it uncomfortable.

It didn’t take long for her to catch sight of Issac in the doorway, and, rather casually, Stride walked up the dirt path and halted a few feet behind the man. “Didn’t know you were so happy about this,” she commented, eyeing him curiously. It was the truth; back at the base, he had appeared just as lethargic as ever.

When Rafael said "coworkers" the Schippers may as well have heard "fellow cultists." 

Spire and Toby's eyes flicked in tandem to the weapon as the mage not-so-subtly revealed it. A threat, all right, but bit foolish of him, they thought, to show his hand. They might have flashed the glocks in answer, but they preferred he didn't know how they were armed. Since the man already knew about the knife, however, Spire took the liberty of giving it a twist between his fingers, like a coin in the hands of a magician.

"Head sorcerer. Lead field magical expert. Impressive," the older brother said with sarcasm oozing from his voice  to show just how thoroughly  underwhelmed he was. "Thank you, then, for giving away absolutely everything about yourself. Good to know you'll have company." And good to know that they wouldn't be there for a while, so that Toby and Spire would have time to take care of the body once they bled this conversation dry. "I'm Spire. This is Toby. Maybe we're not your ordinary pair of made lycans."

...completely true, considering that one of them wasn't a lycan at all. Some expert. If the man didn't have the skill to identify Toby correctly, they certainly weren't going to correct him.

Neither of them made any motion to take the cards. They knew better than to take an object from a strange sorcerer.

"You don't know anything about who our enemies are," said Toby. "What's this deal? And what d--do you know about the thing in the morgue?"

"Thank you, then, for giving away absolutely everything about yourself. Good to know you'll have company." Rafael couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at the elder brothers sarcasm. "My my, I do think I have seen sarcasm of that grade since...well, the Virgin Queen, befitting that fact we are in England" Rafael slipped the cards back in to his pocket. They knew about the lugar, but they dident know about the Runes, or the SCAR hidden in the ally behind them.

It was also around this time Rafael mentally kicked him self in his own ass. The younger brother was not a made Lycan, oh no, though his older brothers sent had thrown him off, he could see what Toby really was.

"You don't know anything about who our enemies are," "What's this deal? And what d--do you know about the thing in the morgue?" "Well, seeing as you two are going to most likely to try and kill me once this conversation ends, I think I should at least give you some information, to both inform you and to give you a reason to overthink that...foolish idea"
Rafael took another puff of the cigarette and began, "Some one, or some thing, has been killing people ritualistically, both Human and cryptid alike." he would drop the cigarette and stamp it out. "What lies in that morgue is not only a pile of ...well, body parts; but what my Bosses believe is one of the things killing people off."

"Now, the local PD know that me and my coworkers are arriving to investigate, though they don't know all simply due to our rules about revealing cryptids to the mainstream human populace.'" He paused. "My deal, if you choose to accept it, was to have you two tag along and assist me, you could gt in with out bother, passing off as one of my coworkers, and we don't have you kill each other, fitting deal, no?"