Absolute Zero (IC)

Nyxeth · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Nyxeth** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 12:05 pm

ABSOLUTE ZERO

OOC Can Be Found Here: Absolute Zero (OOC)

Location: London

2301, the four digit number blazing red upon the black boxed digital alarm clock that was blaring away in klaxon tones to awaken the prone form of the occupant in the bed that it lay next to. Incidentally 2301 was both the time and year as this occurred. At this current year, ESP levels were at an all time high and in similar kind to that of the amount of guns in circulation during the 21st century, the crime rate could only increase. Years ago when a shop was to be robbed, someone might charge in with a gun and threaten the cashier. This was all well and good in retrospect, that could be countered and handled. Now 1 in 3 crimes involve the entire front of the shop being torn from the neighbouring brickwork, the occupants scattered by an invisible force and the till floated through the air to the assailants hands.

How does one exactly stop ESP related crime? Well, that's where the EPC came in. As the klaxon of the clock rose higher to the belligerent bedside occupant, many official vehicles were racing through New-London's city streets in the reformed south of England, their blazing sirens clearing roads and avenues. What set this action in motion you ask? well not very far from the ignorant sleeper, a hold out was taking place of the ESP nature, non-ESPers wouldn't feel the sizzling energy flowing through the air unless they drew too close, however the EPC - European Psychic Committee - had picked up the activity upon the calibrated satellite systems that navigate much of Europe, scanning for ESP related activity. It was they, who after a quick call deployed ESP counter measure groups, soldiers whom despite their lack of ESPer ability would make quick work of any related crimes.

It was probably the first shot that rattled the person whom up till now was asleep. A brief grunt, a aggravated groan as the alarm seemed to switch off by itself and a muffled few words between fingers now covering his face as he tried to raise from the drowsiness that was induced by lack of sleep. "That time already?", the noise barely reached his own ears as he stumbled from the bed and shielded his eyes from the motion sensitive bulb which had just switched on. This rattled and tired looking fellow with his tussled brown hair and moderate frame was Michael Nix, as he began to clothe himself and his over all awareness as the sleepy feeling ebbed away, another sense began to tickle at his mind, literally. As another gunshot sounded, drawing him upright, a nagging sensation that could be described as in his mind and a few hundred meters away drew his attention.

What this feeling was, was the sensation of ESP activity - as an ESPer, Michael had at his disposal like any other, acute senses of ESP activity, like a persons hearing listens for sound and sight seeks out light to create shapes, the 6th ESP sense seeks out ESP activity which reaches the person in forms of a kind of, spider sense to reference old material. Whilst generally it might give a direction to the level of activity, it may also impart the state of mind to the emotional status of the source of activity. Commonly this can be used by an ESPer to discover aggressive intent by an opposing ESPer and anticipate actions.

It was this aggressive sensation that drew Michael out of his apartment, down the corridor of doors identical to that of which he had left and onto the night time streets of London, the area itself that he was situated was what could probably be called the new west, where the neo-modern and rebuilt housing was, where business thrived and in general where London was 'better' than the rest. Still, the many businesses were often the target of crime and as Michael crossed the road and the muffled gunshots of what he assumed was an assigned task force steadily continued in short bursts. It was relatively clear that whatever was going on involved a stand off of sorts between the squad and the ESPers and by the flickering feeling of his 6th sense, the ESPers were in a losing battle.

He could generally guess at what was going on, at this time of night a group of ESPer low lifes had decided to profiteer off of their extra abilities in some illegal activity, sensors had gone off and the EPC had responded. Now to think, the EPC were equipped to handle ESPers of certain grades with nothing but common riot tactics. Their equipment, specially designed as it was to handle psychics wwas mostly made of a material that treated G energy in the same way lead treated radiation waves, it blocked it off. Bullets made of a heavy tungsten composite to have enough force to penetrate most forms of barriers to light weight vests which all but blocked low to mid grade psychic attacks. Combined with state of the art technology and they were the next worst thing to a more powerful ESPer as a threat.

Still, he continued to walk by as the scene unfolded on the other side of the fence he was walking by and continue walking he did as the gunfire ceased and all of the ESP activity ceased. Incapacitated or dead, the EPC whilst one of the 'good guys' had few qualms when it came to dealing with criminal ESPers due to their overall threat to society.

Continuing his leisurely walk in the night towards his destination of work - hey, he has to get money. - Michael passed a pair of men whom had probably been set to guard the entrance to the walled area where the firefight took place, whilst one watched off down the road for anything out of the ordinary approachiching. The other watched Michael intently, eyes never leaving him until he rounded the next corner and went out of sight. With Malcolm gone the man carefully lifted his spare, gloved hand to his earpiece and with an inaudible click as the mouth piece began receiving, he spoke. "Miss McFrey, Subject ZG-Zero has been spotted."

At that, a satellite transmission would bounce from the orbiting EPC communications satellite to the European headquarters some miles away on the out skirts of London, to be intercepted several times by interested parties of EPC's affairs. Research groups, hackers, human purity movements and the government. Yet other bodies of power would begin to act upon this knowledge in a swift and deadly motion as but a single whisper came from both Primus and Shroud.

"One of the Zero Subjects is in London."

Script · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Script** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 2:46 pm

"One of the Zero Subjects is in London."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The ornate clock hanging on the wall of the office of Morvrin Dern, the head of the EPC, counted out the seconds as the woman herself paced backwards and forwards on the wooden flooring, her black shoes tapping on the surface in their own rhythm alongside that of the clock. Upon receiving the news, Morvrin had initially been incredibly pleased, finally they had located one of the elusive subjects and could quickly bring them into protected custody before one of the thrice damned corporations got their hands on him, or her. She had immediately opened up lines with all the relevant offices and departments, and those who would be directly involved in chasing down the subject, though not as far down as the agents themselves. Now she could only play a waiting game, with nothing but the interior of her office to distract her from her swirling thoughts.

The walls of the office were of ebony, the dark colour contrasting with the maple floorboards, and decorated with expensive paintings, and the aforementioned clock. The back wall of the office was constructed of glass, and served as a window over the expanse of London beneath the EPC building's towering heights. The only furniture in the room was a brown leather sofa against one of the side walls, and an oak desk facing away from the window, with a single black office chair behind it where Miss Dern would usually seat herself, as well as a pair of ordinary chairs against the wall that could be pulled up if she needed to converse with someone over her desk.

As Morvrin paced, she brooded. Despite recent security updates, both Primus and Shroud had reportedly leapt into motion, having intercepted the message they had received. She had ordered that all steps be taken to prevent the subject from falling into the hands of those corporations, and that agents of the two were to be intercepted on sight, and captured or killed. She was breaking several laws by doing this, but in the interests of the EPC, she was willing to bend the rules.

A buzz on the intercom on her desk brought Morvrin back to reality, and she hurried over, holding down the switch to allow her secretaries voice to come through.

"You have an incoming call from the Metahuman Retrieval Division, should I pa-" she began.

"Yes! Patch them through, do it!" Morvrin interrupted, irritated that despite full knowledge of the situation the woman refused to show any haste whatsoever. It was a knack secretaries had, Morvrin had found.

"Putting you through now, Madam. One moment..."

After a few seconds, the voice changed to that of a man, the head of the Metahuman Retrieval division of the EPC. "Miss Dern? It's Jacob Godfrey here from Metahuman Retrieval, we've just dispatched several agents to the last known location of the subject, and have reliable information from the other departments that the men on scene are in pursuit of the boy, who appeared to be in his late teens, with dark brown hair and an average build. No more detail on his appearance could be gathered due to the low level of light, but our agents should be able to track him regardless. Team leader is Wildcat." the man said, to Morvrin's relief getting straight to the point.

"Excellent work, keep me posted on any further developments Godfrey. Do we have any further information on Shroud and Primus' movements?" she asked, crossing her fingers for a revelation that their agents had fallen down a convenient pit trap...

"Sorry ma'm, nothing." Godfrey replied apologetically.

"Very well officer. Keep up the good work." she said, managing to keep the disappointment from her voice. A good leader could not afford to show those below her anxiety or stress, or it would infect the entire organisation. Walking to the chair and slumping down into it, Morvrin wheeled it over to where she could stare out over the night in London. All she could do now, was wait.

Fluesopp · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Fluesopp** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 3:02 pm

He dreamt of the sun again.. The glowing yellow ball of flames, the ultimate fire, it was all under his command. As water, he plunged into it headfirst to bathe in its licking and caressing flames, eager to feel their touch at his skin. And with devastating effect, he threw the sun at the earth, watching it scorch the green earth and evaporate the sea, and the loud alarm that went off as the earth disappeared into the flaming jaws of the planet eater.

James groaned and groped in the dark after his cell phone. It was time to get up, go to work, dress and take a shower, preferable in another sequence. But after turning the alarm on his cell phone off, and turning on the small light at his night table, something struck him as strange. He squinted at the blurry red digits at the end of the room and faintly made out it was almost midnight. He hadn't been sleeping more than one and a half hour, at most. Irritated at the defective cell phone he threw himself back at the bed and tried to sleep again.

Suddenly he sat up again. It was not the alarm tone, but his ring tone. He picked it up as he shifted in his bed. Focusing on the small text on the screen he found what he was afraid off. A missed call, from Primus...

"Shit!"

He quickly tapped on the missed call and raised the phone to his head. Hopefully he wouldn't get in too much trouble. A computerized voice answered in the other line. "The Primus Corporation, how may I be of service?"

"Agent James, Experiment 5-B alpha, requesting status report."

There was a brief pause as the computer analyzed the vocal pattern and confirmed his identity. A beep indicated the call was transferred and in less than five seconds a human voice responded, and James' heart sunk. It was Corporal Miles, the toughest bastard in his division. He was so in trouble.

"You tried to call me, Corporal?" James asked, his voice clearly showing signs of nervousness. "I thought it was the alarm..."

"Sure you did!" Corporal Miles replied coldly from the other side. "And I will personally make sure you won't mistake a corporation call for an alarm again!" James swallowed and imagined what kind of punishment he would endure for this. Miles continued, "But unfortunate, that will have to wait. We have intercepted data from the EPC suggesting that a Zero Gene Subject is located in London. Your mission is to confirm this possibility, identify the subject and apprehend it, through any means necessary. Commencing mission download now."

The phone went silent as the call ended with a beep, and burst into activity again as the mission was downloaded. James flicked through the files, trying to remember the faces of the different subjects but failing. The data on them was also pretty much useless as they did not have a confirmation of which Zero subject was in London. It would be useless to read them all. Instead he bookmarked the faces and continued to the mission briefing.

The subject's location was not far away, only a couple of blocks down, but that was all based on the decoding of EPC transmissions. It could be very much a blind track. The power levels they deciphered also denoted a power level between D and B. It would be a sleek walk in the park, James thought to himself and smiled. For a moment he considered donning his mission suit but refrained, in favor of a green sweater and a pair of jeans. It was better to be less suspicious here, although he doubted it would help against any ESPers, especially not the Z-Subject.

Taking his overcoat with him, he scanned the room for anything he might have forgotten, and locked the door telekinetically on the way out. Around him he could feel several ESPers, some sleeping, some outside, and towards where the Z-Subject should be, several ESPers engaged in combat. Or at least, they were engaged in combat a while ago. Now he could feel despair coming from that direction. Was it the Z-Subject? Had the EPC captured him already?

Conumbra · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Conumbra** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 3:15 pm

Maseen and Jason walked into Primus' headquarters. It was a typical, nondescript 20 story skyscraper in the middle of London with the Primus company logo on the top of it. The logo was a red circle with a big Purple 'P' in the center of that circle. As per Primus protocol, Maseen and Jason constantly scanned the area for people harboring hostile intentions towards the corporation. If they found anybody, they would track those people down and then "invite" those same people for a special meeting with the head of Primus' London branch. If that person had ESP potential they would be brainwashed to serve the good of Primus. If they didn't have potential, they would simply be killed off. No doubt the authorities would investigate but since the crimes would have no indication they were done by ESP users, the EPC would not get involved and so the crimes would go unsolved.

On this run they detected no hostile intentions and so they walked calmly into the building. They were wearing standard Primus ESP uniforms. They wore a one piece leather uniform with yellow stripes down the sleeves and legs. The leather was not extremely tight but it would not fall off the person who wore it either. The way to get in was exactly like a wetsuit, with a hidden zipper in the back of the uniform. They walked past the secretary in the building and past some offices that looked like standard military hardware offices. This was just a front however and was used to convince potential investors that the ugly rumors they had heard about Primus were completely exaggerated

As they got to the back of the building, they pressed on a section of completely bare, grey, concrete wall. It opened up a tunnel which lead to Primus' secret underground facilities dealing with ESP users and new ways of enhancing or completely changing their powers. There was even a potential project on the ropes for a helmet that could give ESP powers to non-ESP users. Unfortunately the helmet at its current stage was lethal and far too expensive to mass produce to the army. As the walked down the hallway, they passed glass walls where researchers in white lab coats were writing down notes. Through the glass walls were new ESP users being tested by Primus to find out how powerful they were and what kinds of powers they had. Primus was constantly discovering new and unique powers but kept that information confidential and away from the prying eyes of the EPC.

Finally they got to an office marked "Only Authorized Employees to enter" which was protected by the highest level of DNA and voice recognition security. They were one of the few members of Primus who were allowed into that office. They were given more autonomy then some of the other ESP users except perhaps Agent James because of their years of service to Primus and because their brainwashing had been so though that nobody could break it. They then opened the door and met a corporal whose name tag read Miles. The room wasn't ornate as the president saw no need to flaunt his wealth around. They then sat down on leather chairs as the began to speak.

"Greetings Shatter and Mask. I will be brief as this is an urgent mission. We have intercepted a communication between EPC forces. It appears that there is a new subject in London. We managed to track the last location of the communication and we suspect that the subject is in that general area. Be advised there are EPC troops so it is best to steer clear of them. We have also sent out another agent, James to apprehend him. With you three on the case this should be a walk in the park." After he finished Maseen spoke

"Alright sir, we understand but have you got any information on the movements... Jason then spoke up.

...of the Shroud?

"Unfortunately not. At this moment we have no idea what they've been doing. Although it is likely they intercepted the communication as well so be on the lookout for them. Now be sure to report to James as he is your superior when the mission is completed, then return back for other potential assignments". The brothers then both saluted at the same time and disappeared. Maseen had sped out using Telemovement while Jason had simply teleported to the front desk. They then both set out to apprehend the subject, his last known location firmly embedded in their minds.

dinocular · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **dinocular** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 3:43 pm

Several hundred feet below ground, in a building that was guarded 24/7 by elite ESPers and high-tech security, black-slippered feet swung back and forth, dangling from a metal stool and scuffing the sterile tiles softly. Swish, swish, swish, swish…. The laboratory was enormous, and the soft scuffing noises mixed in with the whir of computers, PCR machines, and other equipment. The entire lab was done in white: white floors, white walls, white benches, and white equipment. Three lab benches occupied the majority of the lab space; two benches ran along the East and West walls, and the third bench sprawled across the middle of the room, parallel to the other two. There was not a single item out of place on the three benches. Each specimen, test tube, and pipette was spotlessly clean and arranged in an exact geometric position. It was, in short, a highly ordered lab for a highly ordered mind.

Adeline occupied the metal stool on the east end of the midbench. Her vibrant, green eyes were peering through her glasses and into the lense of the compound microscope that sat in front of her. The slide in the scope contained a thin section of brain tissue that she had just cut with the microtome. The tissue had belonged to Rat 17A, one of a sample group of 20 rats that had been experimentally injected with Adeline’s latest breakthrough: a potential gene silencer for one specific gene, the Z-gene.

She became aware of her surroundings slowly, as if awakening from a long, confusing dream. It was always this way for her. She might spends days on end in the lab, possibly remaining in the same location the entire time, without eating, drinking, urinating, or sleeping. It was as if her body separated itself from her mind while she worked, allowing her to forget her humanness in order to focus fully on the task at hand. Her first impression as her body roused itself was heat. The laboratory was unbearably hot. Jolted into action, Addie jumped up from her stool, realizing that her sweat had soaked through the “Pb to Au” t-shirt she was wearing to soak her white labcoat. She did not really know any of the guards or the workers in any of the other labs by name, but she sent out a general mental shout anyways, Someone turn off the heat! My work is going to melt! She almost collapsed as her legs, which had not been used in several days, protested the sudden additional weight of her body.

She managed to stumble towards the eastbench to turn on the backup coolers for the more expensive equipment. The westbench had gone mostly unused for a month, but she quickly packaged up her samples from the midbench and stuck them in a cooler. She couldn’t bear to lose any of her work now, after years of steady research. After the silencer for the gene related to ESP had been developed, other ideas had quickly surfaced. The potential for an ESP activator had been unsuccessful so far, and most of the attention in the biochemistry world had turned to a silencer for the Z-gene. The research was still preliminary, but Addie hoped that she was on the trail to finding such a silencer. Replicating the gene was impossible because the procedure had been destroyed and samples were obviously difficult to come by. The good news was that the Z-gene had been located early on by comparisons to the normal genome. Knowing the chromosome and locus of the gene meant that a theoretical silencer could eventually be developed, though testing the silencer would be impossible without infected subjects.

Addie was working on such a theoretical silencer, but she was still having trouble with the compound. It was proving difficult to develop a way to silence just that one gene. Preliminary tests with rats, like rat 17A, were showing that the compound was acting too broadly. The rats, which did not have the z-gene, suffered from protein denaturation when they were injected with the compound, indicating that the compound affected amino acids that it was not supposed to. Addie thought that she knew why this was happening, and until the compound did absolutely nothing in subjects that didn’t have the z-gene, it would not be an effective silencer. She needed to develop a compound that affected the z-gene, and only the z-gene.

Ghaarme · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Ghaarme** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 6:21 pm

He had arrived in London about three weeks ago. Yes...I've got you in my sights... He had been informed it was here. Almost...have you... He edged closer...closer. "Yes! Been waiting forever for this. Thank you miss!" the young man recieved his coffee from the girl across the counter and stood for what seemed like an eternity, admiring the perfect black coffee he'd come to London to procure. He was tall, and a bit dark skinned. Pretty fair in terms of looks, but none too aware of his surroundings. It wasn't until a gentle tap from the counter-girl that he realized that he had been holding up the line for well over a minute.

"Chernobyl, I know you like coffee-you've come to the shop non-stop for almost 2 weeks now, and we love your repeated spending of hard earned money on...black...but we can't have you holding up buisness." she chuckled a bit before motioning towards a seat near the counter.

Chernobyl, as he was called, immediately removed himself from line and took a seat in the small booth. Since arriving in London, he had searched every inch of the place for any good coffee. After a week Chernobyl found it in the form of a small family owned coffee shoppe called Litte. Ever since, every morning and evening the the young man came in for a single cup, tipped generously, and left for work. He had come to be fast friends with the counter-girl, Lila, and they exchanged small dalliances when the opportunity arose. At the moment they were talking about the current movies that had come out when Chernobyl's cell phone rang. "One sec, gotta take this." With a smile Lila shooed him off and as soon as he was out the door, he opened the phone.

The sound of a soothing feminine tone filled his ear, "Subject Zero has been spotted. Last known location 7 blocks east, four blocks north of your location."

"You realize it's my day off, right Voice?" he asked, referring to the name he had given his mysterious Shroud informant. He knew nothing of her, well, except that it was a her. They were both agents of Shroud, but so different...snapping out of his contemplations, Chernobyl waited for a response. After a long silence, he knew none was coming, and proceeded to walk towards the target area. The night air was cool and crisp, a nice change from the past mugginess. After seven blocks, Voice decided to speak again.

"Turn here. It's all waiting for you." with that said, the woman hung up.

Chernobyl stared for a few seconds, at the Wedding Supplies shop Voice had directed him to enter. He sighed in exasperation, took a swig of his coffee, and trotted in through the automatic doors. After a brief chat with a store employee, he was directed to a dressing room, the only one available, although Chernobyl noticed the lack of any other patrons. Within he found his equipment laid out. A suit, and 3 handguns along with 10 ammo cartridges.

After getting dressed, Chernobyl began to exit the store. Just as he was about to go through the doors he received a text. Voice? He flipped open his cell, reading the text; LEAVE THE COFFEE :3 Scowling, the agent left his coffee on the counter and proceeded to the target area. He'd be investigating for a few hours, and he needed something...Ah! There, in his chest pocket was a 12-pack of cigarrettes. "At least that's something..." With that, he proceeded to the Zero Subject's supposed last coordinates.

Toxlind · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Toxlind** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 6:33 pm

Taxi wasn't the smartest way to deliever a small, illegal disk in the streets of London. Ajax stared out streets and the tall buildings. He couldn't say that he felt entirely calm, but he also couldn't say that the pay wasn't entirely worth it either. The taxi seats were comfortble, but that wasn't going to help him calm down, in fact, to move from place of safety to open area wasn't helping him stay calm.

The taxi pulled to the side and Ajax slid the money trough a slot to the driver. He steeled himself and walked to a near by phonebooth with an alley nearby. The doors automatically opened for him and closed behind him with the sound of an airlock, as if it helped him calm down in this glass box... He picked up the phone and dialed the number.

After two ring a scruffy vioce answered, "Name?"

"Phalanx," Ajax answered in his own vioce, deepening it so he himself would feel a bit tougher.

"You have the documents?"

"You have the credits?"

"On disk in the dumpster in the alley; tape the documents on the lid."

"Pleasure."

Ajax hung up the phone, left the phonebooth, and headed for the alley. The dumpster was one of those green ones with the black lid. He picked up the lid, the metal warmer than he expected, and was hit with a not so pleasant stench. He covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve, which still did not much good, and looked at the lid, which held a small disk that was taped with silver ducked tape. 'The credits,' Ajax thought. He pulled off the ducked tape and disk and replaced the ducked tape on the disk which held some files of some importance he guessed.

'I just scored 30,000 Euro in one run,' he thought as he shut the lid, left the alley, and walked to his apartment. 'Easy money...' he thought.

Kytes · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kytes** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 8:12 pm

"Great...another mission. Just what I needed." Kytes had been relaxing at home, watching his favorite television show. Ah well... better get on with it then... at least I'm already IN London. A Zero subject eh? ... At least I won't hve to feel as alone in the EPC anymore... assuming I get him. He leaned forward in his chair and stood up, stretching his arms. He slipped on his shoes and headed out the door, locking it behind him. He telepathicly moved the spare key up to his gutter and placed it there, concealing it in a pile of leaves. Thus, the hunt was on.

Ottoman · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Ottoman** on Tue Oct 20, 2009 9:20 pm

"..." - Josef

Josef sighed as he sat in the metro car, the lights flashing behind his head as it sped through the underground with astonishing speed. Josef, surprisingly, was one of the less conspicuous passengers in the drab grey car, dressed like some reincarnation of a fascist paramilitary from the early 20th century, compared to the wild and vibrant colors of the London youth around him, from blazing fuchsias to mellow tangerines, and soothing mold greens to exotic reds, it actually made Josef's eyes hurt. The car's ambience interrupted by the public announcements deemed worthy of the attention of the general populace by the NEA, Josef smirked, for some reason only known to himself.

The Metro came to a stop, and Josef decided to get off, for no particular reason, save the sake of his eyes, and looked to where he got off. He didn't know the place. All of England was foreign to him, away from his home in Stuttgart, everything was so strange. No one was friendly, and everyone had a scowl on their face. He shrugged nonchalantly and continued away from the metro, up the flights of stairs to the streets above. Though somewhat more easy on his eyes, it was less so on his ears, but that wasn't as bad... he thought.

Maybe.

He shrugged again as he made his way down the sidewalk, the hobnails in his jackboots creating an almost scratching, clawing noise on the pavement beneath him, visibly annoying others around him, just as their clothes annoyed him. Honestly, there were some people that should never go out in public scantily clad. But, wandering around wasn't his purpose here, of course, Shroud's excellent Intelligence department had done a wonderful job of informing him on his task once more.

"One of the Zero Subjects is in London."

Josef sighed, as he often did, stopping for a moment, staring at some advertisement for some sort of dermatological product as he pondered, the cogs in his head spinning. Then, suddenly, he called out to his subordinates,

Just where are you?

He mumbled the words slightly as they formed themselves in his mind. He shook his head slightly, as he then continued down the street to some coffee house, ordering some, awaiting the response...

Fluesopp · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Fluesopp** on Wed Oct 21, 2009 12:50 pm

”I know. I’m just going down to the store to buy some vegetables,” James said loudly to his cell. There was nobody in the other end but giving others a reason for his presence often helped to draw attention away from him in case of a major event. He smiled slightly and nodded at an old fashioned ‘bobby’ who patrolled the street. She seemed about 40 or 50, and small signs of attention also helped to prove his innocence. They never suspected that this nice, young man had anything to do with whatever happened. He passed the cop and his kind smile turned into a sleek grin. He just loved his part in the play.

The z-subject was reported a few blocks down, so he scanned the streets and the few people walking on it before entering a small grocery store. The lights were pretty dim, almost at the level of the night outside, so his eyes didn’t have to conform to the light inside. Three people were inside; one hooded guy, an old lady with a grocery bag and the shop keeper. James nodded slightly at him, an old Arab, and proceeded to the vegetable section, constantly checking if there was any suspicious ESP use in the district.

“Sorry,” he said as he bumped into the hooded guy on the passing. “Just passing by.”

The hooded guy didn’t responded but withdrew quietly. Not caring, James bent down to pick up a bunch of tomatoes and a lettuce. Carefully weighing them, pretending to consider one lettuce to another, he searched mentally the area for any ESPers. Again he could only sense the dead, or soon to be dead ESPers in the gutter, the sleepy ones, but not anyone which could possibly be the Z-subject. He decided for a smaller lettuce and picked up his phone. If the Z-subject was here, it was highly likely he could hide his ESP, which could probably exclude some of them.

As he left the shop, he had excluded three from his list. Cursing slightly, he opened a new mission briefing. Maseen and Jason are to aid you with the search. Their abilities will prove invaluable in this search. He cursed a bit again and looked down the street. A EPC car stood at the far end of the street, two soldiers standing outside looking up the street. Not wishing to face them yet, James turned and walked the other way, noticing the hooded guy walking a little further away.

Toxlind · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Toxlind** on Wed Oct 21, 2009 5:45 pm

It was quite odd how how Ajax had almost no trouble with the local police until he got with the street where his hideout was hidden. Ajax's hideout, the place he kept his credits and other illegal items, was a small room down a sewer hatch in an alley, one of the rooms where all the levers and valves were held (it didn't stink as bad and had no visitors as far as he could tell). The street had quite a few of the soldiers on it, so Ajax decided that another sewer route would be better and, luckily, he had drawn a map of the sewers for such an occasion.

He pulled out his phone and found the app that held the map of the city and the map of the sewers. The closest route that, hopefully, wouldn't have any, or at least not as many, soldiers was about two streets East. Ajax found the manhole with some difficulties, but after getting it open quietly, could only gag. He took off his undershirt, added few breath mints to the cloth, and tied it around his face. He climbed down and pulled the manhole over him with a loud bang.

After working his way through the system of tunnels and, after getting lost quite a bit, he found his room. The pipes made perfect places to set boards for shelves and, although there were a few cobwebs here and there, the metal floors made it look cleaner than it smelt.

"At least it's not soaked in the stench of human fecies," he said aloud.

He placed the disk in a small shoebox that held the rest of the credits for whenever he needed an extra supply of cash. He had collected almost 300,000 Euros after two years of these odd jobs that he still stayed awake some nights pondering. Ajax demanded cash for weapons, which were held in a case to left. It held many different assortments of weapons: a few different handguns, riot shotguns, even a few military grade M60s, and the such.

"Is this really right?" he said aloud again, "Trading items that could potentially kill someone for money... it actually makes me sick!"

Ghaarme · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Ghaarme** on Wed Oct 21, 2009 7:05 pm

Are you serious?! his thoughts were a haze of anger, not only his coffee break ruined, but also his assignment. He had seen the entire spectacle from a dark alley. The ECP had decided to secure the area, quite thoroughly. His job became that much harder due to the EPC reinforcements dispersed throughout the area. So riddled by sheer annoyance, Chernobyl considered striking down the fools. It wouldn't be hard... the Shroud agent slowly lifted his right hand pistol, aiming for the first of the enforcer's heads...when his phone vibrated.

His hand stayed for the moment, but still in position to fire, he reached into the side pocket of his pants and flipped open his cell. Surely enough, she was on the line "Stop. Change of plans." Voiced ordered, a bit of authority in her tone.

"Are you serious? First no coffee, now no killing?" he asked incredulously, glaring at the enforcers.

"Yup. On the rooftop of the building to your left, I've left you a...present." with that said, she hung up.

Sighing in defeat, Chernobyl turned the corner and bolted up the stairs. It was an apartment building, a shoddy one at that he noticed as he passed each door. He didn't fail to notice the 'DO NOT DISTURB' signs on a couple of the doors, smirking as he passed. Once on the roof, he realized what Voice wanted him to do. She had set up a low-impact sniper rifle, overlooking the target area. She wants me to do a steak out...? Fuck...wait, how the hell does she do this stuff? Ugh, nevermind... Taking up a steady position, Chernobyl found the rifle to already be loaded and went to work. One, two, three hours passed. Still no sign of anything suspicious. "Screw this..." Chernobyl began to get up when he received a text: DON'T YOU DARE ;D. It took him a few seconds to notice the laser point dotting his chest. Looking up, he saw a figure shrouded in black a few buildings away. For once, he decided to text back. Nice to meet you. May I at least have a smoke?. After a few more seconds, a reply came.

OF COURSE. : )

"Hmph..." he smirked, and lit up a smoke. "Caps button broke? Noob." chuckling softly he went back to surveillance.

Lamentations · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Lamentations** on Wed Oct 21, 2009 11:17 pm

"..."

The sound of vermilion splashing in a pool of drowning blood echoed through the dark metal halls of the underground tunnel. The man's muffled cries were now nothing more than twitches and struggling movements to retain life. His one left eye gazed at the dark figure that stood above him holding the crimsoned edge which had ended his life. The blood dripped slowly on the ground plopping itself loudly. The casted shadow gave the sinister man an even deeper look of a dark phantasm that killed with little to no effort, such a dark and unruly being that existed for the purpose of man's ultimate weapon.

"F-F-Fuck y-!"

The small blade slid across the ground and slashed through the flesh of rich blood that spewed from all directions of the body. Instead of killing the man by taking away his sanity and causing him to destroy himself using his hands such as ripping his body parts off, he decided on a more gory ending. The blade fell to the ground with a large metallic clang that rung down the hallway before several foot steps were heard clapping against the ground from both ends of the hallway. The lights were dimmed for as far as the eye could see in the tunnels and the tunnels weren't very large, but rather narrow and long. Then the orders rang through the loud headset which caused his hand to immediately elevate itself to brush against the side of the stylish black communicator.

"Destroy the facility for bonus points."

"OK."

Gale's body dropped from above into a crouch before he touched the ground. The charge of electricity which ran through his hand zapped everything in the circumfrential area. It was as if his body was conducting the exact electricity which would cause the end of the entire facility. The energy immediately blew in an uproar causing the wave of extraordinary violet and indigo to swirl through the hallway and engulf everyone on both sides, himself in the middle and protected by his psionic wall that he had created to protect himself. Suddenly the ground beneath the city would crack and bright iridescent lights would glimmer from below. Sparkling shards of reality were left behind as the job was finally completed.

The chaos in the city above was struggled to be contained as his body vanished from its position. The man who had wiped out the underground mantra was gone. His motives so far by all in the world were well known, for he was the same mercenary that was infamous for doing whatever fetched a higher price. In many circumstances he had served as a weapon of the government of several nations and agencies that led them to victory every time but lately he had been hired for different purposes that took interest amongst people. What was he doing?

Amongst the stone obelisk mounted atop a large building above the unnamed city in the west he observed the setting from above. He monitored the events of which the police detained the civilians and to make sure there were absolutely no more unnamed or named psions that had managed to make it out of the killing that he delivered. He hated those of his own kind, and wish they had never existed. Generally he would accept anything that had to do with killing one even if the work was hard and the wage was minimum for the game of mercenaries.

"Gale!"

"Assignment Complete."

"Good but that's not what I'm calling ya for. It appears we have some sort of...how to put it. This is probably one of the biggest missions we have to occur YET! I mean it's BIG! The wage is high and I think we could settle for this kind of money in our pockets!"

"Would you like to assign me to it?"

"It looked flimsy at first but I think we can trust it. Worse case scenario is you kill them bastards then walk at the fire looking bad-ass like in the movies."

"Affirmative. I will await further orders on the destination and time."

"I'll get it for ya...in the mean time...go play with a kid or something..."

Conumbra · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Conumbra** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 1:23 pm

Maseen and Jason ducked into an alleyway, that was less than a foot away from the entrance to the Primus headquarters. Even though it was the middle of the night and there would be almost no people on the streets they did not want to have that possibility present itself anyway. As they maneuvered through the gray, concrete alley, Maseen was telepathically scanning the surrounding area, while Jason was on the lookout for Shatterpoints. Like his brother, he perceived Shatterpoints. Instead of his brother who perceived those Shatterpoints as weaknesses in objects, Jason perceived them as influential people and history changing events. To Jason all the zero subjects were Shatterpoints, people that is killed could change the history for ESP users for either the better or the worse.

They continued this, Maseen searching for any ESP users they could find and Jason searching for Shatterpoints Unfortunately they were getting nowhere with their search. That is until they went behind a grocery store. Maseen sensed an ESP user. Perhaps it was Agent James. With that thought, Maseen and Jason got annoyed for several reasons. The main reason was having James as their superior in this mission when the company had already discovered that Maseen and Jason alone were more powerful then he was. They had their thoughts on why things were like that. Perhaps it was because of James' unique abilities are maybe it was because the company thought he was more experienced then the two of them or perhaps he just bribed a company executive to make sure he got some extra perks.

Whatever the reason, their was no bad blood lost between the brothers and James. They did not like him and from what they could tell neither did he. To make sure that the ESP user they had found was James, they climbed onto a red, metal fire escape onto the rooftop of the grocery store. They stayed low and moved from cover to cover in case someone spotted them. Which was good because just as they saw Agent James exiting the store they turned to their right and noticed an EPC car. That could prove troubling for them. But first things first and that was to hook up with Agent James. To accomplish this they ran and jumped into the alley they had come from, rolling just as they hit the ground to make sure they did not break a bone. Afterward they sent a telepathic summons to Agent James to meet them in the alleyway beside the store.

LordSaladin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LordSaladin** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 5:31 pm

During the war, it was as though the missiles had, at times, been targeted specifically to rid England with much of its historical posterity. Many of the buildings that had once defined a culture rich with history had been destroyed, leaving England as a barren land. It had been a long, arduous process of renewal after the war, but finally the situation seemed to be improving.

Of course, the New European Alliance had been of great assistance in this steady flow of improving circumstance. Rather than being a simple community of common trading laws and open borders, Europe was now a full alliance, a state run by a single governmental body. No longer was each state independently operated - the NEA, as it was abbreviated to, government was chief, judge, and king. Regardless of past situations and rivalries, it was largely apparent that the NEA had made itself an efficient, well-oiled machine of economic turn-around, law-keeping prowess, and overall, it gained the trust and support of the general populace.

Elements since the war had made certain groups appear, however, in relation to those who'd developed the ability of ESP. Some were helpful in maintaining the peace and order that people needed after so large scale a disaster. Others were not. The NEA had, thus far, taken no real active stand in ESP matters. That was soon to change.

Future matters aside, the NEA was based in one of the few remaining remnants of England. A place, for one with acute senses of irony, that slapped the face of what had been the English Monarch-run government of old. Buckingham Palace. It was unknown exactly how it had survived the war, but it now served as a wonderful HQ for the most cohesive government in the world at this time.

The NEA had been structured in a way that emulated the old British Parliament, it seemed to work before the war, and had thus far proved itself. However, rather than a Prime Minister, there was simply a President. He possessed the final authority, and could overrule any decision made by another member of the government.

"Sir," the voice was questioning, a little nervous, apprehensive, "we've heard reports of EPC activity tonight." He waited for a moment or two, the young man, for a response from the other. Sat behind a heavy desk of oak or maple, the younger lad could not tell, the person to whom he spoke seemed to be lost in thought, eyes focused on some paper or other. "Sir?"

A little boy, no older than six or seven, woke in the middle of the night, sat up and wondered at his hunger. He had eaten both dinner and supper, taken a few biscuits to bed, eaten them before finally falling asleep, and had a glass of milk atop his chest of drawers that sat beside his ample, soft bed. He failed to understand why he was so hungry. There was a sudden craving for pizza, that he knew would not be sated.

He got out of bed, rubbing his eyes fervently, trying to take the sleep from them, made his way towards the house's master bedroom. To the place he knew sleeping parents would be. The silence in the house was broken as the door opened and he spoke, "Mummy, Daddy, I need pizza."

The voice was musical, high, and demonstrated just how tired the boy was. Drowsiness oozed through and from him like a worm's trail. "it's so easy to make pizza, Mummy, and it tastes so nice."

One of the mounds upon the four-poster bed shifted, turned on a small lamp, and raised its head to look at the child. Blinking a few times before speaking, his mother replied, "Okay, I'll make it for you in a minute, honey."

His head began to hurt, inexplicably, and vision began to darken. There was a sensation of falling before all was black.

"Sir?"

The man behind the desk gave a little start, raised his head, and looked at the young man in front of him. "Okay, thank you. Let Robert know I'm going to soon be in bed. No more interruptions."

The younger man nodded and left the room. The elder looked around. Had this been where King Charles used to dine? Was it a bedroom? An antechamber? Often, he found that such questions coursed through his mind, and always he would take in the grandiose room. The carpet was of a deep pile, dark green, the walls were painted red with what was clearly expensive emulsion. Gilt was in abundance, to the point of an near-gaudy feel to what now served as an office. An evening office, they called it.

On his desk, a small beeping sound emitted from the laptop which took centre stage, the screen flashing for a few moments. A non-standard email had arrived in a non-standard mailbox that very few people knew about. Opening the email, the man smiled. It seemed that everything was working out perfectly.

Some controversy was had in the election of the NEA's first president. The man was relatively new to the political scene, with no apparent relevant background, yet he had achieved a monumental landslide come election day. A sickly looking fellow, he was thin - some would say emaciated - pale, and was weak of voice.

The most important factor was that he was confined to a wheelchair, something some people were hugely opposed to. An interesting note, then, should be made regarding prejudices: Despite the human race barely surviving a world nuclear war, old discriminations still were prevalent. Would the human race ever improve as a society?

Mayhap the emergence of what some dubbed the 'new race' - those who exhibited strong ESP abilities - would change things. Already, though, old habits were presenting themselves there too. Time would reveal the answer.

Kronos · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kronos** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 5:57 pm

...Follow the god damn field manual and don't stand there in plain sight, you idiots! It doesn't matter who you think you are, you aren't NEA troops!"

Owen was indistinguishable from the crowd. The "EPC Soldiers" were London Police, the finest, assigned to EPC units for this mission. The EPC officers themselves wore plainclothes or azure two-piece uniforms with covert armor, and they made sure to stay out of sight. The EPC's Psychic Response Teams, the psychic gendarmeries of popular fame, were just not deployed just yet.

Unlike the many sickeningly visible and poorly clothed corporate soldiers (the kind let their individual fetishes influence design), Owen was dressed to glide right past you. Despite this, his movements seem jerky, as if he was wearing something constricting. He carried a duffel bag filled with god knows what.

Owen's concealed earpiece buzzed. Then the gruff, New New York accented voice of Chief Communications Officer Dale Lanzhou filtered through. "COMMINT update to Agents in the London Area. We picked up messages saying that Shroud and Primus agents are after the Zero subject. Keep them away. Over and out."

Owen continued to stroll through the streets of London, near Canary Wharf, occasionally pausing to slid an oblong object from his pocket and readjust direction. Thankfully he didn't have to drive to find his mark.

Saken · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Saken** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 7:14 pm

By the time Echo finally was able to get off work, it was seven hours past the time she should have gotten off and the sky was dark- night had come whilst she had been running her ass off in some small little Café` and diner. The small woman pushed a few strands of brown hair from her blue eyes and sighed. It had been a hard day at work, her originally only coming in for one five hour shift, but leaving after completing a 12 hour work day. Sure, the money was great since she was making about nine euros. The money was great- she needed it to stay in the flat with Micheal – she didn't want to be the one who couldn't afford her share of the rent.

The teen quickly shook her head, a ragged sigh escaping her her bitten lips, nose wrinkled upwards. Her feet hurt so damned much and she knew that, since it was night, Micheal wouldn't be there. What if she fell asleep? The girl's body seemed to freeze for a moment, her breath racing from her as she let out the smallest of whimpers, fear clouding her mind as her legs continued to push her forward towards the flat. She didn't like to sleep- and because of so her normal C level powers where down to a low D, she was..Useless.

Echo sighed a bit, finally reaching the nondescript brown brick building, like so many others in this scared city. She hated how..unoriginal most things they had were but everyone else thought it was a good idea- but her. Perhaps she was just a more jovial, unique person than Micheal and <__ >, but it didn't matter, cause at least she was by Micheal when he was around.

Echo stepped into the Flat with a slight smile on her face and a song on her breath. She'd see him after she woke, since tomorrow was her off day.

Zael Arkan · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zael Arkan** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 11:43 pm

Misty breath flowed rhythmatically, swirling with random airflows as a sullen star-gazer exhaled in the night's cold clutch. Laying comfortably on a rotting, yet sturdy, abandoned shed. This festering hovel of rodents, or whatever else, stood next to a ruined barn that was toppled on the opposite side. It was his secret hiding place, just outside that grotesque display of a city, London. The moon lay bright and high in the diamond speckled abyss, and her light shined in his favor as his platinum hair reflected from her glow.

Ah... It's faint, but... It's there.

Lev cringed at a sudden spike in the ESP activity, snapping him out of his meditation and bolting upwards shouting in surprise, "Gah! What da' heck!? Ow, what was that about," now sitting upright, he could see the eerie glow of the city, and his stomach turned in his gut as he groaned, "Augh, something's goin' down in there. Was that the cause...?" Lifting himself slowly, Lev's ruby eyes narrowed with anxiety, and shuddered from a sudden touch of the cold wafting into his coat, mumbling to himself, "Whatever, it doesn't involve me. I'm tired and it's damn cold out here." Stepping to the edge of the shack, he froze to glare at the empty urban jungle from over his shoulder one more time.

As long as none of them find me here.

dinocular · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **dinocular** on Fri Oct 23, 2009 7:55 am

It was two hours before the facilities manager had the building back to its proper temperature. Oddly enough, only the fifth sub floor had been disturbed by the heat flux. The fifth floor contained only Addie’s lab and a large storage room that housed some of the less stable solvents that she and the other scientists used. The facilities manager was trying to figure out why the lowest subfloor was having the heating problem, but so far, he was clueless. The scary part was that if the temperature had increased a few degrees more, those solvents would have caused a major explosion. As it was, some rather nasty gases had traveled into Addie’s lab and the stem cell lab on the fourth sub floor.

After the heat was finally fixed, at least temporarily, Addie started to notice how haggard everyone looked. She glanced at the clock in the hallway that led to her lab and understood: it was early! The facilities manager had probably been called out of bed to come in and fix the problem. As she started to notice that everyone else seemed tired and rumpled, she realized that she too might look like hell. She made a trip to the fourth sub floor to use the restroom, urinating for the first time in… how many days had she been in the lab? She wasn’t certain how long it had been because she didn’t even know what the date was. While she washed her hands, she noticed the dark smudges above her cheeks, the greasy texture of her hair, and the bloodshot whites of her eyes. She sighed while she dried her hands, realizing that it was time to go home for a day or so to catch up on her sleep.

The elevator leading to the ground floor was closed for maintenance, so Addie took the stairs instead, hoping that the exercise would get her blood circulating again. Unfortunately, the long haul up the four flights of stairs alerted her to something else that she had forgotten about: she was hungry! She was not just in need of a little something to munch on; she was absolutely ravenous!

Luckily, when she reached the ground floor, the little shuttle that brought employees to and from the Mynde House was just arriving. Addie hurried outside and boarded the little shuttle, cramming in with all of the chatty, well-dressed secretaries and photocopying assistants that worked in the three floors above the underground laboratories. The secretaries tried to avoid sitting with her, as usual, though Addie couldn’t be sure if they were turned off by her appearance or by the way she kept giggling to herself quietly. The ride from the outskirts of London into the city always seemed to take forever because the shuttle stopped repeatedly to let the passengers off at various locations. Addie dozed while the shuttle navigated the busy streets with her forehead pressed against the cool glass on the window. She dreamt of a giant bowl of pasta and vegetables drenched in cheese while she dozed, hoping that she could find some quiet, low-key place to eat when she got into the city.

The shuttle jerked to a stop and Addie rubbed her eyes. She peeked out the window, wondering if this stop was hers, only to find the shuttle parked in a parking lot full of other city transportation vehicles. The intercom crackled and the driver's fuzzy voice blared in her ears, "Last stop. Get off my bus!" Addie stumbled down the isle, noting that she was the only remaining passenger, and looked across the street from the parking lot, trying to find a building she could recognize. Where the hell was she? She checked her pockets for cash, and finding very little, not enough for a cab, she started across the street to a little grocery store, hoping that she could grab a candy bar to calm her demanding stomach and use the owner's phone.

Fluesopp · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Fluesopp** on Fri Oct 23, 2009 8:06 am

How to find the Z-Subject.. James thought to himself as he wandered down the street. He wondered what he was going to do with the fruits as well. It would be a waste of time to go back to his apartment but he couldn't just throw it away either. After all, he had bought it with his hard earned money. He picked up a tomato from his bag and took a bite. It was good, but the thought of the mission, and to work together with the brothers brought a sub flavor to his tongue.

Meet us in the alley beside the store.

Of course, there they were. He breathed heavily and entered the first alley on his right. It was empty, probably the wrong one, but as James turned around, the hooded guy entered the alley and pointed a gun at him.

"Give me your money!" the man hissed nervously and motioned with the gun at James.

James raised a brow and looked straight in the man's eyes. "My what?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard him the first time.

"Your money! Give me your money!"

James tilted his head and asked again. "What about my money?"

"Give it to me, or..." The young man shoot forth an open hand, indicating what he wanted James to do.

"Or what?" he asked teasingly, clearly showing a sick smile on his face.

"JUST GIVE it to me!" the man shouted and pointed the gun towards James' head.

"I don't think you should shout that so loud. You could be discovered," James said as he moved closer. "Perhaps you'll even attract the attention of a ESP user?" His smile grew wider, and the man became more nervous.

"Like, a pyromaniac, or worse?" James cocked his head and observed the gun. A slight movement with his hand caused the cartridge to eject, another caused the gun to reload, ejecting the remaining loaded bullet. "Or a telekinetic?"

The man looked at his now unloaded gun, considered the situation for a split second before turning and sprinting out of the alley. But before he even got a few feet he was thrown backwards by James, and crashed into a couple of waste containers. And before he even got a chance of getting up, James was there with his left hand filled with a blue kind of flame.

"Or perhaps, both?" he said smiling and was about to incinerate him, had not Maseen and Jason appeared behind him.

Absolute Zero (IC)

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