Enigma~ [Sci-fi/Fantasy] ((IC))

[The offffical signup and OOC]
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[Alright since you've all be asking here it is ^ ^; ALL THE CREDIT GOES TO ADERAS!!!!! I'm currently at a friends house... so he offfered to make the first post for me :3 ]

It was the beginning of another day in the city. The night shift had ended just hours ago, and the morning shift workers were making their way to work.

Many of those workers were human, and were forced to walk. If they were lucky, they may have had a bicycle with which to reach their destination. Others fortunatly lived near or on site of their work place, and so were lucky, as the metropolis was large indeed. The rest of the many species of the city however were, mostly, given privilege to modes of transportation such as high-speed electronic highways, trollies, even hovering vehicles that could soar through the skies. But not the humans.

For here in this city, despite it's location on Earth as one of the few standing civilizations, Humanity was on the bottom rung, the lowest block of the totem pole, society's mud crawlers. Nearly five thousand years ago, more or less, humanity was at it's peak- flying cars provided to the masses, space colonization was on the brink of discovery, and the governments were stable in their positions as the highest order. But war was still rampant, poverty, famine, still all too common. The world was slowly dying, and the true reason for movement to space was revealed; nuclear war was all too likely to happen at any given moment.

But it did not happen. Apparently humanity was close to destroying the Earth, for the Gods themselves came to it's salvation. The war was swift, if war it could be called. Over fifty percent of humans were killed, their cities ravaged, and the rest enslaved. Earth was reborn, it's wounds healed in an instant, and what was left of humanity was forced to build grand cities. Not for themselves, but for those who would now inherit the Earth. For when Man was overthrown, those creatures who lived in secrecy, in hiding, came back into life as if they had always been, creatures from old wives tales so called fictional, and even things that were not imagined save in dream or nightmare.

The primary city that was built was Enigma. While three quarters of the city were built with all that man had acheived, and even more by secrets the Gods now revealed to the builders, the fourth was constructed as the cities of old, made of stone and brick, but not a shred of technology to be found. For they were quite closely monitored when constructing this quarter, the one they were destined to live within. Punishment for the enslaved, for the enslavement so long held over the Earth.

The Gods ruled with an iron fist for one thousand years, as more and more so called Mythical creatures sprung up around the globe, and migrated to the few cities; most made their way to Enigma. In time, the gods decided that rule over humanity should belong not to them, but rather to those that had been forced into hiding so long ago. And so, the Hierarchy of the Elders was created, and those that led were chosen, either by the Gods themselves, or by the people of the city.

It has been four thousand years since the gods departed, leaving the world in the care of the Hierarchy. More creatures have continued to make their appearance, even entirely Alien species in some cases. But Humanity has not been idle. An organization, dubbed Chaos, had arisen in the years of the Hierarchy's rule. While open warfare was scarce, the Humans continued to fight a war of espionage, subtlety, and sabotage against the ruling body of their city. The ultimate goal, was to reclaim the rights they once had over the planet, starting with Enigma.

So it was, another day. The nocturnal creatures were now going off to their respective homes, and there was a brief period where the city lay comparatively quite, then it is alive once more with creatures of many different species moving to and fro, conducting their business. There were few clouds, the sun was rising over the entertainment district, and, for most, it was a beautiful day, full of promise. For others, it was simply another day of plotting, preparation, and shady dealings. It was another day, in the city of Enigma.

The sun slowly made its lazy way over the buildings, creating shadows throughout South End. Sandra Bowman did not have the luxury of being lazy, however, and she had been awake for some time, taking little notice of the rising sun. She was patching a pair of pants before she started work. There had been some major destruction over in the third district after a riot, and her clothing would have to stand up to the flow of the day. A hole meant getting snagged on something, and any reputable builder knew better than that. It was a fast way to end up a dead builder.

Properly patched and dressed, she gathered her bundle of tools and tucked them into her equally patched bag, slipping it onto her back with ease. She had plenty of lean muscle to spare, as her constant work meant that she, at least, was able to eat fairly well, and the hard labor of building kept her strong. She strapped on her knives just before she left the house, leaving them in plain sight as a warning to those who might be looking for easy prey.

The walk was uneventful. It was several blocks of winos, violence and shoddy building after shoddy building - buildings she wouldn't be repairing any time soon. The owners did not have the money to pay her; and while she considered building a necessary art, it didn't come free. Her time was worth more than that. The local government seldom contracted Builders to repair anything in South End. Occasionally she was hired to work outside of South End, but she preferred to stay near her home; not because she enjoyed it but because if it were difficult keeping the other humans at bay, keeping the other races at bay was near impossible. If she could kill them, that would be a different story, but the penalty for a human killing someone from another race was often death, and under the watchful eye she endured outside of South End, killing was out of the question.

When she arrived, she assessed the damage with a quick flick of the eye, marked the price up by fifty percent because of the high risk working on a tall building without the proper equipment and went to find the owner.

Before even greeting the man, she began with, "I'll require 2,000 Gold pieces and 500 Silver to complete this job." It was more than her assessment had been, but she knew that she would be negotiated down to a fraction of her initial price. It was all part of being her own business.

The man's already ruddy complexion darkened. "That's outrageous," he sputtered.

"What's outrageous is that you let it get this bad before calling me, Mr. Bloom," She said sharply. "If you'd like to negotiate, state your offer. Otherwise, I have other jobs I could be attending to."

He floundered for a bit, obviously unused to being approached in such a firm way by a woman. Women in South End tended to either be meek or hardened and untamed. Business woman did not describe very many of them. "1,000 Gold and 100 Silver. Take it or leave it."

It was still more than she had initially priced, but negotiating was about getting what you could. She would not back out just yet. "If that's how you feel about it..." She turned to leave.

"Wait!" She continued to walk. "I said wait, damn it!" She turned, but she did not approach him. He muttered under his breath. "If you weren't the damn best I wouldn't be giving in to your stubbornness."

"But I am the best, and I won't work for any less than 1,500 Gold and 250 Silver. You are asking for some high level repairs. I don't think it is too high a price for my safety."

He mumbled something under his breath about highway robbery and drew up the paperwork.

((The bold italicized parts are memories that my character has. I used them in another RP, and I liked the idea so much, I used them here. So if they confuse you, you can skip them, they just offer more insight on the character's backstory.))


Adam Hastie took his wrench and smacked it angrily against the motor on his bicycle. Great. Just great. He was sure if he messed around with it a bit, he could figure out what was wrong with it. He had after all, built it himself, but he was going to be late. He didn't want Dad to flip out. His brother Sigfried, had already left. He chose to jog, which didn't surprise Adam. Sigfried was muscular, tall, and strong. With a resigned sigh, Adam used his wrench, and removed the motor in a matter of seconds. He would tinker with it at work, then reattach it to the bike later. Standing up, he retrieved his tool box, and placed the wrench, and the small motor inside, then attached the tool box to a magnetic clip on the back of his bike.

Adam hopped onto his bike and began peddling down the alley. It was early morning still, and alot of people were on their way to work. The streets were pretty crowded.

"Hey watch it kid!"

Adam swerved around a man he hadn't seen. The guy had popped up out of nowhere. He didn't look like a normal resident. Oh well, probably one of the high end junkies, just making sure people are following the rules down here. Up ahead Adam could make out the factories. The Bolt N Mettle, the mechanic's shop his father now managed, was towards the end of the smoke and soot spewing buildings. Pulling his goggles low over his face, he sped ahead, peddling faster. He hated passing these factories. They smelled bad, and past them, the Slums got even worse, sometimes to the extent that it was better to live outdoors rather than in.

There it was. The Bolt N Mettle. Adam pulled off to the side of the shop, and turned leading his bike into the lot.

"Bout time! Man Adam, if you keep this up, Dad's gonna blow a gasket!"

It was Sigfried. He was dragging large iron rods from around the back to the front of the shop. The new shipment must have just came in. Well that was good at least. His Dad had a few big orders to fill, and the supplies were running thin, but that was usual for them anyways.

"Yeah yeah Sig. Dad's always gonna blow a gasket. Ever since the Piqueman order came through... Ugh...Hey where is Ollie?"

Ollie was an old timer. Even more frail seeming then Adam. He had worked at the shop since Adam's dad Gord was a kid. Even though he was old and had a few screws loose, Adam enjoyed his company. He was the one who taught Adam not only how to read, but also how to work calculations, and understand schematics.

"See here Adam, you take this number here, hold out your fingers like such, and then put this many down... yes like that... thats right! You are getting this quicker than your Father did!"

Adam smiled at the thought. He could remember everything Ollie had taught him near to perfection. He missed being a kid. Things were fun back then.

"Hey are you listening to me?"

"What? Oh sorry Sig. Yeah... where is Ollie?"

"I just said he never showed up. Dad was gonna send me down to see if he was home later, but that was before this load was dropped off", Sigfried sighed, "I just hope I can get this all in today, Dad is probably gonna have to help. You might too."

"Oh... great."

Adam sighed and turned towards the shop entrance. He hated lifting. He hoped he wouldn't have to do much. He still had to work on some plans for the Piqueman order. They wanted new variables set up, so that higher speeds could be achieved for a certain type of car. Adam gloomily walked into the shop. What type of car was it again?

"Did you hear me Mr. Hastie? Three variables higher! No more member index's, and possibly with an application to railway accesibility! This is a hybrid. So we need things to go well. We're coming to you because you are one of the best engineers around... despite your... position. But quality for cheap cost is undeniable... but yes... Quevents are top of the line for a reason!"

"Well Mr. Piqueman, I'll see what I can do for you. The variable increases shouldn't be a problem. My son can handle that. As for the railway accesibility... I'm not so sure. Well ofcourse do some tests on it, it'll be costly though, I'll need my whole team in on it. And ofcourse we'll get on the other work as well."

Adam sighed. That Piqueman fellow was a pompous ass. But Adam wouldn't say that to his face. He was dragonkind, and he also would be putting food on their table for the next month if the order went through. As Adam looked up, he saw that his dad was with a customer. Trying to avoid his father's sight, he quietly tiptoed over to the back office, where he could finish working on the order.

"Nice of you to join us Adam?"

Adam winced, "Hey Dad... err... sorry I'm late... motor went out, you know..."

His father gave him a look that they would talk about it later. Adam frowned in his direction when he had turned his attention back to the customer. Sulking into the back office, Adam pulled out a stack of papers, and began sorting through them. Variable... variables... Just great. This was gonna take all day. Adam just knew it. Model numbers, then calculations. He wished he could go over with his father's team and work on the project himself, but he knew he wouldn't be much help with railway systems. Sighing, Adam focused on the task at hand.

As the sun crept through the wooden slats that made up his "home" in the South End, Ael'li stretched out his host body, the feet pressing up against one side of the small room as his hands pushed against the other. Hoisting the legs over the side of the bed, he reacquainted himself in the body, getting it into balance so that it wouldn't fall over. It always took him a few seconds after waking up to get settled back in to controlling Harry; it was only the length of time he'd spent with Harry that meant it took four or five seconds instead of twenty or thirty. Reaching under the sack stuffed with straw that made for his pillow, he gripped the long knife he kept under there while sleeping, before sliding it into the leather band around Harry's left arm. The second long knife was then pulled from it's concealed hollow in the bottom of the bed, before being slid into the band in the right arm. Once that was done, all that was left was to slip his shirt over the top, concealing both blades nicely.

Checking off his mental to-do list as he climbed up the small ladder, Ael'li peered up at a shard of metal in the wall above the cellar door through one of the slats. Checking the reflection showed nobody to be nearby, so he unlocked the doors and got out, before locking them back up behind him and slipping the key into the shirt pocket. First things first was to check both the drop-points; one to find out when and where tonight's Chaos meeting was, and the other to see if the Hierachy had anything useful to give him or some new task to perform. Keeping an eye and an ear out as he walked towards the first drop-point, the main thing he picked up (beyond learning which alleys to detour around for the morning) was that the third district had a lot of craters thanks to a recent riot. While the third district wasn't his favourite place in the whole wide world, the riot meant there would be plenty of loose scrap to scavenge; if he wanted to keep his cover it was a good place to work today. Reaching the first drop point, he gave the surrounding area a cursory check before lifting out one of several of the pieces of loose paper weighted down with a small rock, all hidden at the bottom of an empty barrel around the back of one of the many "pubs" (in reality, little more than shacks selling whatever moonshine they could get).

Heading into an abandoned nook to read the notice, he quickly translated the cipher; while it was basic, it was enough to fool half of the people living in the South End. "Meeting at the crossroads of Barr and Sennet. in the hollow, at eight," was the extent of the information the note was willing to divulge; still, it was enough. Moving on, he soon found himself at the second drop-point, this time from his Hierarchy bosses, and after performing the same checks as before read the note left there. This one read "Riot in third district, South End. Find and report extent of Chaos influence and ringleaders. Next drop point in two days, twelth drop point." With these two tasks out of the way, he then began to make his way to the third district to see the damage himself.

After around half an hour of walking, Ael'li found himself near one of the larger craters, where it looked as if the building had slid sideways straight into the street. A couple of people were looking at it as if they were unsure if it was still safe, although they quickly dispersed once he began to head towards the rubble. Suspicious behavior, but following them straight away would be even more dubious. Instead, Ael'li scrambled up the rubble, and began to pick through for pieces of brick and metal that were still in serviceable condition, putting him into his cloth bag as he worked.

Shaun drove quickly through the airways, A tense expression stuck on his face as he listened to the countdown for the bomb wired to the car "29...28...27" constantly counting down to detonation. He could simply jump out of the car, but was surrounded by civilian vehicles, sure to kill many of the innocents surrounding his car. He then saw the pile of debris pointed towards the ocean. "Looks like I'm going for a swim," He said with a hint of a smile before he pointed the car at the makeshift ramp, launching the car into the water as he jumped out at the last second and the car exploded as it hit the water, sending up a geyser of fluids. "Aaaand cut. That's a wrap people great job today." Aleilal, an elf said through the bullhorn, camera men and prop workers dispersing to take care of things as Aleilal went to the side of the lake, helping Shaun out as he swam to the side. "Awesome job Shaun you nailed it this time,” He said with a smile patting Shaun on the back, “You sure, I thought I might of over done it a bit on the swim line,” he said worried expression on his face, “Nah it was fine.” He said putting a arm around his shoulders “Go on tonight and celebrate the birth of a great film with the great Shaun Derrick in the lead role.” Shaun laughed at this “You know what, you’re right Al I think I will.” He said as he got in his Valdago sports hoverer, speeding off to his tower in East side.

Once there he got onto his bank account, donating close to 2 million in gold to the Brighter Future charity fund, supposedly going to building new schools in the city. In reality it went through ,many different mediums before ending up in the Chaos’s funds, allowing them to buy Black market weapons and technology. Along with it he sent a note saying simply ‘Would love to meet soon, send reply’ only. He then went to his hoverer again, heading towards the nearest club. After all, what kind of celebrity would he be to not give the paparazzi a chance to get a picture today.

South End, Third District, Square of Maluka

The Marshal watched from the balcony of a commandeered command post, from which his Riot Guard Unit was operating. He gripped his gloved hands on the aluminum rail that surrounded the balcony, leaving faint dents in the metal; the strength of his muscular tendrils was augmented by the gloves (which in themselves were silicon-organic nano-fiber muscle amplifiers) He watched the opposing crowds of human and police surge into each other, and smiled (the best his race could), and the human wave collapsed. The black armored guards were taking down humans like they were flies (and the humans had already managed to take a couple guards with them.)

He was taking down the faces of the humans involved in the riot, just to make sure they no one would be missing when the next reprocessing* came around. He took down the faces of the humans who managed to kill or injure the guards, making notes to their death. Kueql simply wouldn't stand for those sub-sentient beasts killing the pure races.

"AAHHH! Shit! That fucker got me!" Exclaimed an elven Riot Guard as a human thrust a makeshift axe into one of the chinks in the elf's riot gear. The blade of the axe tore through the weak fabric under the elf's armor, and lodged in his arm. The elf furiously ripped the blade out from his arm, and swung at the human with his stun baton (edged up to kill). The human screamed as the sparking nightstick bashed into his right temple, sending a lethal jolt of electricity coursing through his body. The human jerked wildly, and slumped down in front of the Riot Guard. The elf gave him a final kick to the face, and muttered into his comlink, "Seventeen down, beat that"

Another human smashed a mace into the visor of a Dal'Ngoth guard, and met a very grisly fate. The Dal'Ngoth swung his dual-wielded stun batons into the human, sending him flying back. He brought has heavily armored legs into the mass of humans around him -- to the same effect. This splash in the wave of humans was felt by everyone around the alien, as they were hurtled violently backwards by the force of it.

*(Reprocessing is a method of ensuring the loyalty of the human population to their alien masters. The humans are taken and brainwashed into believing that they live in such appalling conditions for their own safety, and that the Council is their friend. They are also implanted with a small tracking chip during the process, allowing the Riot Guards to track them. If this fails, the humans are reprocessed into a (cracker-like) food for the other humans, and dispensed among the starving.)

Sevick grined from under his mask he wore in battle as he watched from the shadows on top a building. He saw his plan starting as the roiting humans retreated into a narrow street that would make the Emigma troops lose thier number advanage as they would have to shorten their lines.

"just like them 300 Spartains eh sir" said a man beside him
"No they all died, we will win" Sevick said.

Sevick didn't know if it would be or not but he always told his men that they would win to give them the hope they needed to win this war.

Sevick spoke over his walkie talkie "Get them to enter the street then we will have a little surprise for them."
"Yes Sir" came back a voice

The humans fell back as they still fought with, bow, blade, fist, tooth and nail. They were baiting the Emigma forces into entering the street as in the shadows of the side allys and building tops the abushers waited to spring their trap.

Enigma smiled viciously as he hunted his target mercilessly; watching him dash down every alleyway and street.. Thinking he was escaping one of the greatest Hunters on the face of the Maiden Earth.. It was yet another Enigma Officer. Enigma has already killed his guards, and soon, the cities wrath shall take this Officer's life in the form of a Shapeshifter.. Just as the Officer sighs in relief, Enigma morphs his hand into a sharp blade. Stabbing deep into his foe's gut, feeling the air escaping this poor fool's lungs as he sagged onto his knees and tried to speak. Enigma almost laughed, seeing his Foe unable to speak from the holes in his lungs. Of course, his pale face made it all the sweeter.. Enigma always enjoyed seeing his enemy terrified of himself.. Oh yes.. Enigma had taken the Shape of the Imperial Officer.. Smiling sadistically as Enigma finally watched the Imperial Officer take his last breath, his eyes becoming as cold and lifeless as the skies around before sliding off his blade-like arm. He was dead before hitting the ground. It began to rain as Enigma heard more company coming, taking the Shape of but a large cat. Sliding beside a door and into the Shadows, pleasantly watching as the Guards were shocked. How did their officer die?.. Enigma would have loved to show them, however he had to return to his hideout.. He had to plan his next, bloody assault.. His next chance to extinguish just a little bit more Order in this disgusting and filthy world..

Minutes later, Enigma had returned to the Assassin's Guild headquarters, taking his paltry payment that would last him a few days and immediatly leaving. He was known by many, but few dared say his Name. For he could dissapear, and take a new name.. Just as an Enigma could. Walking into his small House just across the street from the Assassin's Guild headquarters, he puts away most of the money and leaves.. He thought he spotted a small battle going on earlier while stalking his prey. Quickly he dashed along the streets before reaching a small drainpipe. Climbing up this Drainpipe he reaches the top of a rather large Rooftop. He looks around before morphing into an Eagle, to get a bird's eye view on whats going on and what interesting Chaos he might be able to sew on this desicrated Maiden Earth..

((How was that?))

Death was afoot. Both eyes were unveiled simultaneously, revealing no color but both black pupils and irises, nearly indiscernible from each other. Reminiscent to those of a hawk they may have been, scanning the room with trained diligence. The same wooden and rock walls, spartan in decor, the same dirt floor, merely a handful of inches away from the eyes as they scanned. It was indeed the same place he had chosen to rest; the same place he had rested every day he felt need, for the past five thousand years... more or less.
Above those eyes was a mat of nearly pitch black hair, sprawled out over the face of the man, and, if he had been standing, would have gone well past his middle back. The face of the man itself, while perhaps at one point would have been considered attractive, was now scarred and marred to the point he would have been unrecognizable to anyone he had known as a child.
Of course, all of those people were dead. Some died of old age, others died in wars, of famine, of plague. Others he killed himself. One, chose death over life, because of Humanity and it's evils. The black eyes furrowed, the gruesome visage contorting into that of rage at the thought, producing an even more unsettling face. He did not recall the days of his humanity anymore. He remembered that it was not too unlike his current situation, but all else he did not care about. This was a man of the now, not of the past, nor the future even.
And so the man stood. He was clothed already, dark though his clothing was, it had grayed with age. He looked around his home more in earnest. His weapons where all still on the wall closest to the pile of loose feathers and straw he called his bed, his doors were all still intact, and the ceiling was not leaking. He had seen worse days, to be sure. Last, he checked the pile of dirt nearest the exiting door. It was a deep hole, the few visitors he received, almost always guards, were told it was a makeshift toilet. He did not lie in this, nor did he tell the truth, saying it was so. To convey that it was he used it when necessary, but in truth, it was a passage.
Every time he accessed the passage it would require him digging through that which he put up to keep it from detection. But he was diligent in his work, tireless. Thus he had his ways of leaving the city should he choose to return to the woods, jungles, deserts of the outside world. Or even the few standing ruins left on Earth. It was less gloomy in those ruins than in this, the so called utopia of all but Humanity, the man reflected idly.
But his hole had been unsullied by those of the outside for yet another day. The whole process of checking, rechecking, and reflecting, took him less than a minute. His home was a single room, quite poorly furnished. It barely qualified as a home even. He preferred to think of it as a hovel... it had a nice ring to it. Satisfied , he walked outside.
He could smell it in the air, that there had been death. There was a strong smell of blood, human blood. Another riot gone awry, he thought. A grin came across his features, to any onlooker perhaps appearing to be that of one who might have some terribly evil concoction up his sleeve. But this man had no such thoughts at the moment, simply those of morbid entertainment. The 'war' if it could even be called that was still not going overly well. He wondered as he often did if Humanity really would be wiped out in their foolish bid for freedom.
But he was no philosopher, no indeed. He was merely another creature in this city that sought a path in life. Like many who lived in the slums, here was another who often looked Death square in the face, and spit, laughed, and walked away while perhaps setting fire to his doormat.
Again, another period of scanning and reflection went by soon. There was seldom any human abroad save those in the resistance, when the resistance was.. resisting. He however had no such restraints, no such fears of the law. He boldly walked down the road, not exactly to any place in particular, but merely to let people know he was still around, as he always has been.
Who knows? Perhaps he may even converse with someone, should they be so bold. 'The thought!' The man chuckled as he made his way. 'That anyone would wish to speak to me, such as I am.' He thought to himself. 'Nachytsm Encaitar...' He paused, as if someone had called his name. His previously comparatively light visage darkened into a frown as he continued to walk.

"Hey, baby...got a little bit of time on your hands?"

The only thing keeping the boy's blush from being immediately noticeable was the fact that his cheeks and the rest of his face were deeply tanned, his fingers curling on the tabletop. His teeth worry his lower lip, his voice caught somewhere between his voicebox and his lips, unable to even shake his head or nod to answer her question. It was always as such with women and damned if she hadn't just plopped herself down in his lap. He'd been calmly drinking the beverage he'd ordered, waiting for his food when the woman had spotted him. He could only guess that it was because he wasn't really from around here and didn't look as if he were poor as a sack of dirt, which he wasn't, but she didn't have to know that.

His head shakes after a moment, giving a soft cough at the fact that the woman was playing with the hair at the back of his neck and it tickled. He shivers softly, causing his high, smoky gray ponytail to sway, exposing the black brand upon the side of his neck...the mark of the spider. To anyone who was unfamiliar with the "village," they would merely think it a tattoo, yet to anyone who had ever been in contact with them, it was a telling mark. The rare races were branded and inducted into the village if they showed talent and Kumodori Yuushinkou had been one of the most talented. For one, he was one of few to ever put even so much as a scratch on the male elder, yet he'd done more. He had drawn blood in their third spar, for even someone as quick as that man had been had a hard time keeping up with six arms swinging deadly weapons. He started to let his mind wander, wondering about why he had come he-

"HEY. Hands off the cloak, lady."

He had tolerated her foolishness to a point, yet she was going a bit far when she started to pluck at his cloak as if she were to pull it off. Crimson eyes snap open and turn to glare at her, seeming for a moment as if he were trying to bore a hole through her head with his vision. Her face pales at the fury in his eyes, sliding back to sit in the chair beside him for a moment, mumbling her apologies. Despite his shy nature, if one tried to do more than he wished, the shyness would be replaced with a stern demeanor that she had just found. He did not wish to reveal his race yet...he did not want to risk being found out too soon, for if the arachno sapiens were looked down on here, he would just have to show those looking down upon them how wrong they were. As his eyes close again, he takes a slow, deep inhale, the smell of his food wafting to his nostrils, bringing a grin to his lips as hidden arms fidget inside his cloak.

It was a pain to keep them hidden so often, yet here in the East End, he didn't want to reveal more than he had to. He'd had enough when he'd come here to get a place in the West End, yet he had come here because he'd wanted to find out what the other areas looked like. The slums had been mostly unappealing, little more than crap for the humans to trudge through. It was no small wonder that they were unhappy, though it was no care of his own. He was more worried about getting himself set up in this place to start getting jobs. While he was good at what he did, he still had to actually be hired before he could get paid and he had yet to get himself solidly set in. For now, he wanted food in his belly and a bit of rest, thanking his lucky stars that the woman got up and drifted away. As she drifted away, his food arrived, as well, a double blessing for the little arachno sapien assassin.

He gives the young woman who brought him his food a polite nod, his shyness not extending to those who served him in places such as this, bowing his head for a moment. He says a quick prayer, his hands shifting inside the cloak once more to scratch an itch as his visible arms move to start eating. He was known not to be a human to some, yet to others he would look just as normal as those tossed into the slums, which likely caused some to ask exactly what his story was. Those who found out his story normally found themselves in for a bit of trouble if they were caught spying, though if he sufficiently trusted someone or had to reveal his secrets, the cloak came off and he stretched out the four extra limbs. He needed not worry about much for now. All he was worried with was to fit all that food into his belly, as it had been a while since his last meal.

Adam sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hted going over plans and paperwork for orders. It wasn't that they were confusing, but he had alot of book keeping to do, and it was pretty boring. He heard the noises coming from the garage start to fade. His dad was probably stopping to check some things, and indeed, Adam could hear his heavy footsteps echoing inside the garage. The rest of his engineering team was small compared to Adam's dad, which made Adam feel even more puny. His dad stood well over 6 feet tall, was nearly as wide as he was tall, and had a tuft of blonde hair and with a neatly trinned beard. Sigfried looked exactly like him. Adam could hear someone approaching the outside of the door. Looking up, he watched the door. It was his father.

"Hey Adam...". he sighed, " Look we need Ollie here, and everyone's too busy with the Piqueman ORder. I need him to handle the other customers. I can't keep stopping to help them. I need you to go out and get Ollie okay?"

"But Dad! He lives all the way across town. And I still have to finish the variable setup and some of the schemes too!"

"I'll help you with them when you get back, okay? For now, I need you to go get Ollie."

Adam glared angrily at his father and stood up from his chair, "Well I guess I have no choice."

Adam watched his dad leave the office and head back out to the garage. He left the paperwork and plans cluttered on the desk. He would remember where he left off when he came back. Adam walked out of the shop and went for his bike. His tool box was still on the back of it. Well, so much for trying to fix his motor at work. Adam hopped nto his bike, and began peddling down the alley.

Adam hated the Slums. He had been, at multiple instances, in the other sectors, usually helping his father with small repairs that were required. He enjoyed being surrounded by the technology. Watching the flight trams, or the kids playing with high tech toys. The huge screens that polayed images. They had none of that in the slums. Maybe an overabundance of homeless, but that was really all they had. As Adam road through alleys and cut shortly onto streets, he noticed that it was less crowded than usual. The people that were on the streets seemed subdued.

Adam did pass by a lady arguing with a man about pricing for fixing a building. He seemed a bit red int he face, but it looked like she had gotten what she wanted. Adam rad close by enough to hear the man give his consent to the woman's demands. Adam scoffed as he looked back at them. He didn't know who would bother paying money to fix up a home. It wasn't uncommon for houses to get burned down in a single night. People especially tended to go for the nicer houses, preffering to make everyone else as miserable as them. It really was a dejective way of thinking.

Turning back around, Adam almost yelled out and managed to swerve is bike off to the side and into a pile of trash. He went flying over the trash and skid on the ground a bit. Adam stood up and watched, standing as far back from the street as possible. A large mob of people were charging down the street, Adam's face paled. He didn't want to be caught by a mob. If he was, then his troubles would only then start. Adam ran towards his bike and lifted it up. The wheel was bent towards a right angle. Great, there was no way he could ride it out of here. Grabbing his tool box, Adam tried to run towards the nearest alley, but the mob of people were already around him. Surrounded by people on all sides, he felt himself being pushed forward into the streets. Adam tried forcing his way out, but people just ignored him and waved weapons and signs into the air.

WHEEERRREEEERRR!

A loud siren? Oh no! It had to be the riot police. Adam really began to worry. He managed to push himself through a wall of people, but only found himself surrounded by another wall. He couldn't even tell where one wave of people began and where another ended. Fighting started to break out. Adam could see an officer take down some people, but he then lost view of him. The mob of people were not only fighting the police, but eachother too. Most were just wildly swinging at eachother. Dammit. If only Ollie had come to work today! Adam covered his head and tried forcing his way past another wall of people.

Sandra was hoisted up precariously with a rope; proper building materials were not available to the humans, and dutifully, she began reconstruction. The job would pay for a month's worth of bills; but then, the job would probably take almost that long to complete. Cement was laid, bricks were lined up and wood was repaired and replaced. It was long, slow work, but it was satisfying.

Starting early allowed for her to finish early as well, and as such, just after lunch she packed her tools and left. She had only received a down payment, but it was enough to tide her over for the next week or so.

Her first stop was the food bank. Supplies were often limited, and buying early in the day was a wise idea. She walked into the graying building and checked her bag with the clerk at the front, making sure he knew full well that she was armed and would fight for what was rightfully hers. Stealing from the food bank was common, but so was the theft of what was left in the clerk's care.

The third district food bank was small, but it was laid out in a pleasant manner, similar to what the old pictures of 'grocery stores' looked like. She picked and chose carefully over the produce - much of it was sub par and some of it wasn't really edible to anyone who wasn't desperate. She avoided the one silver piece bin like it had the plague - it probably did. Their meat selection was decent this week, but without a working fridge, she would have to heavily salt whatever she bought to keep it fresh. She settled on a few bags of rice, a small amount of meat and a couple of pieces of fruit. The vegetables proved to not be eatable.

She grabbed a couple of canned soups that were fortunately imported on her way to the register and paid the overpriced total without blinking an eye. It amounted to less than three full bags of food, and she retrieved her pack to head home. She checked the contents carefully before leaving.

Despite it still being fairly early in the day, South End was still dark and shadowed in many places, and she stuck to main streets as often as she could. Having food made her ten times the target she already was.

Despite her caution, she ended up cornered by a starving man with a feral glint in his eyes two blocks, if you could call them that, from home. She tried flashing her knives to no avail - the man obviously hadn't eaten much in the past month, and most probably not much in his lifetime, for that matter. He lunged towards her, thinking her useless with her hands occupied with the bags of food he was undoubtedly after.

She waited until he was within range, standing still in his line of sight before swinging the heavy bag of soup up and to the side to come crashing into his side. She dropped them then, drawing her knives with a swiftness that only comes with practice.

Without so much as a small hesitation, he righted himself and came after her again. There was a light in his eyes that spoke of a complete lack of fear; something that comes with long-term homelessness and hunger. Sandra made quick work of him; her left blade sliding cleaning through his abdomen and her right inserted straight through the neck. With a flick of her wrist, he was nearly beheaded, and he sank with a sickening thud to the ground. She may kill those who attack her, but she held some sympathy to those who fought for their lives and would try to kill them quickly.

She wiped her blades on her now-dead attacker's clothing and calmly gathered her bags, walking the last two blocks home, wondering if she had enough salt to keep the meat she bought.

Hunter Killer stood in his office watching they busy streets underneath his window. If people could see his face they would see a long frown drawn out over half of it. His face was covered by a face plate, fused to the skin and bone. The only openings were the slanted openings that were tinted a dark crimson, his eye slits, and made with a extremely resilient material. His reflection watched his everymove and every breath. Showing his face for what it was. Half, the left half to be exact, of his faceplate was perfectly flat as it should. But the right side, the right side was woulded to show, in grusome detail, what his face looked like underneath it all. His semi-formed snout, his angular and rounded bone structure, the sunken in hollow that was once his eye, the now solid metal in a sickening form that looks like real metalic flesh and fur.

He sighed. Watching his reflection now. Noting the top of his head was cut off in the reflection. And why shouldn't it? He stood at an awsome 12 feet tall, the tallest of any in his race. His upper two arms were crossed over themselves against his chest while his lower two hung at his sides. He shifted slightly and crossed his lower two arms as well, the armor fused to his skin rattled and pinged as it rubbed and hit against each other. His hearing could even hear the faint catching noise it made when two of the pieces overlapped in just the right spot, right before the miniture screech of them being pulled apart as the movement was finished. But that was normal.

His hearing was extremely sensitive, so sensitive that if he didn't have the sheilding device that was built in his helmet, the sounds of some of the everyday machinery would make his brain stop and he would die. But even with the sheilding blocking out all dangerous levels he could still hear things that most species couldn't. Like the breath of a scared Human in hidding from 90 feet away and their heart beat around 30 feet. He sighed again. Being a Dal'Ngoth had its advantages and disadvantages.

Like their breathing system. Which, after remembering about it, he took a short breath in, to fill his lungs with its life giving air. Their air was filled with toxic clouds and poisons that could kill a human in minutes after inhaling a small ammount of it. Their adjustment came from their evolution on their homeworld. Whoes surface was covered in such gases, as well as various pockets of radiation and static-chemical storms to top it all off. It was harsh world to live on, and the risks of evolving or die was even greater, since half the population became the Dal'Ngoth and the other half was split into thirds. Two third of the population became a half-sentient race called the Dol'Ngorn. The remaining population refused to go to the surface outright, the Del'Nkel

Hunter Killer made a harsh barking cough as that name floated into his head. The Del'Nkel looked almost exactly like the Humans on this world. When the storms lessened and the surface "died down", the Del'Knel began to build surface structures to house themselves from the still dangerous environment. All races had to be cloned to live, that was their only shared feature. A truce was held... the Dol'Ngorn's peace being that the Dal'Ngoth had half-domesticated them and restrained their more... instinctual actions. But soon the Del'Nkel began to brood and worry and a war broke out. They tried to exterminate the Dol'Ngorn and Dal'Ngoth with a form of biological and sonic warfare.

The war ended when a Dal'Ngoth leader united the entire race and drove down into the underground shelters, the last strongholds of the Del'Nkel race. With the threat destroyed, the leader of the now united Dal'Ngoth, Hunter Killer, focuse on regaining the whole planet in their control and getting everything up and running...

A short bark caught his attention and he turned. His two Dol'Ngrul wait calmly behind him, their features almost as rough and grusome as his. Their slight boredum had jogged him mind back to the present and he looked at them closly... while his ears heard their steady breathing and slow heart beats.

The Dol'Ngrul are an elite class of the Dol'Ngorn. They are actuall older Dol'Ngorn if they do not become on outright. Every Dol'Ngorn over the age of 300 became a Dol'Ngrul but not every Dol'Ngrul was over 300 years old. Their features were frightening to those who weren't used to them. They were long, 12 feet in length, with a six foot tail behind them. Their skin was charred and black, with unclosing doars that continued to ooze a black substance, that wasn't their blood. Their forms were gnarled and crooked, looking disfigured, while they were actually the strongest and healthies of all the beasts on Earth. They, like the Dal'Ngoth, are fused to a twisted form of their origonal armor, and are completely sentient. Though they have six clawed legs, rather than four arms.

Their heads were hard to look at, unless it was their owner or trainer that looked at them. The Dol'Ngorn had long snouts with most of the skin and helmet missing from them. Large fangs that hung from their jaws. Hollow gaps where their eyes should have been. Their ears were torn and curved, like miniture bat wings. Their facial apperence was only slightly different to the Dol'Ngrul, who had small red slits for eyes and had a helmet similar to the Dal'Ngoth to sheild their sensative hearing.

Hunter Killer watched Stealth and Slasher and they watched him. Both were thinking of something else, not really aware of the other. " It is time for us to feast again." Stealth stood up and paced slowly. Hunter Killer kept his eye on Slasher, who watched him intently. "It is your dinner time isn't it? I heard there was a riot down in the slums today... mabey you would like to take part?" This time Slasher rose, rather quickly, "We will have Del'Nkel for consumption? Today must be an important day." Hunter Killer sighed and looked out the window for a little longer.

While sentient, the Dol'Ngrul couldn't be talked into believing the Del'Nkel and the Humans were two different species, but in the end they gave up. What was the use of that information when only they, the Dol'Ngrul and the Dol'Ngorn knew what a Del'Nkel was or looked like. He thought long and hard before turning again. "We will leave now."

He had contacted the next highest officer in his HQ to contact his second in Command and tell him in advanced he was coming. His second in command, the only one who wasn't a Dal'Ngoth, gained the position quickly, only because Shadow, the previous in charge, began to show... sympathy for the Humans.... And that didn't sit well for the Dal'Ngoth reputation... not in the slightest... So one day Shadow was called to help guide a riot in the slums... and a Dal'Ngoth guard "accidently" misfired one of his weapons point blank and killed him. Strangly, that same day, all of the cloning files and clones for Shadow mysteriously were lost in a system error. With Shadow gone forever the other could step in. His views were almost exact to Hunter's so he gained favor quickly.

Hunter walked over to one of his walls and clicked a few buttons. A massive panel slide out. A huge selection of weapons and armor appeared from nowhere. He clicked a few more buttons and stood in his designated spot. Stealth stood on his left, and Slasher on his right. Robotic arms swung from the wall and proceeded to equip their real armor... their combat armor. The bulk pieces were almost nothing to them, lights of light blue and greens flickered as hydraulics and other mechanical pieces worked correctly. After their helmets were secured Hunter grabbed a special crimson hooded cloak, tailored to fit around the armor, and pur it on. His insignia seemed to puls on the back as he put the hood over his lemet, shrouding his face in shadows. He grabbed his weapon, a massive version of what could be described as some futuristic Barrett rifle. And they left the room.

They went to the hangar where he yelled and intimidated a couple of piolets for being lenient about their work. And after a quick threat to feed THEM to the Dol'Ngrul, the three of them were taken to an armored transport and began to head towards the slums.

(I lost the origonal last time i tried to post, but i took precautions this time.)

(O_o Are all of these Posts going to be the size of Chapters unto themselves? Because if so, I'm afraid I just won't be able to keep up. >.<)

Enigma smiles as he spots a small fight going on between Humans and what appears to be Elves. Maybe now he could reap some Chaos, perhaps assist these idiotic Humans in their self-destructive course to Freedom? Enigma morphs himself into a Raven to look less... Alarming. As Ravens were common while Eagles were Rare by that Time.

Landing on top of a building just to the side of the Fight, he stares at the two sides for a moment. Wondering which side would spill more blood, and create more pain. Probably the Enigma soldiers.. After all, they are better trained versus these stupid Human fools.. Enigma thought to himself. He would have chuckled were it not for having a Beak instead of a Mouth. He remembered the shape of that Enigma Officer he killed earlier, wondering if word had spread of his ill-fated demise yet.. It wouldn't matter. He had to witness this fight for himself for a little while longer to see which side he should assist. After all, Chaos can come in many forms. Perhaps if he were to assist the Enigma forces, it would cause an outrage among the Human Forces. Or perhaps vice versa. It didn't matter to him. As long as sweet, wonderful, chaos could rule again..

The Riot Guards followed the mass of humans as they retreated into the alleyways and smaller streets that branched off from the main avenue. They beat the crap out of the humans as they moved in on the rioters; but this would be overlooked by the Command. Several large APCs were pulling into the avenue behind them. (for transporting prisoners)

Kueql tapped his hood (where a human ear should be), and spoke into his com-link. His voice came out tinny to the Riot Guards, but still understandable. The guards suddenly turned their attention from the (almost subdued) rioters, to what could be lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Men, watch your flanks. We could be running into an ambush here!"

"Sigma-One, copy that, Sigma-Three, over."[/color

Sigma three surged ahead into an alleyway, using several DEWs (Directed-Energy-Weapons) at the lead, to cut a path through the retreating humans. They noted a few deaths, but the majority of the fallen humans were unconscious.

[color=#FF2000]"Sigma-Four, over."

The core of Sigma-Four hoisted their assault weapons, and formed a tight unit within the larger mass of guards. They would be the heavy hitters in something like this; and on occasional (not now), they were forced to mow down some of the more ferocious humans.

Keuql tilted his head up at the bird. Out of boredom, he sent a little psionic 'ping' to the creature; the ping returned showing that this creature was much smarted then at first sight. It must be something... something not exactly helpful to his work.

"God... Damn... Bird... Thing..."

Keuql shouldered what looked like a long, green stick, with a stock and grip. He gripped a small ring between the barrel and stock; and then he 'cocked', twisting the metal ring and causing the weapon to glow brightly. He hoisted the weapon to face Enigma, and fired off a lazy potshot at the bird. A bolt of bolt energy exited the neon-green stick, flying through the air towards the Raven. He hated those things, especially the Dark-Matter ones that lived in the Magellanic Cluster.

Hunter Killer's Armored transport landed behind the comendeered command post. He stepped out, inhaling more of his air as he surveyed the site. He turned two his heavily armored Dol'Ngrul, who looked like giant mechanized monsters from some twisted nightmare. "Go out and take your pick, living, prisoners or dead... But stay from the alleys and shadows, their are always ambushes..." Stealth and Slasher growled in confermation and sprinted off to the fight, massive forms moving easily and with great speed, even in such armor.

Behind his transport several more landed, the Dol'Ngorn teams had arrived. The two heavily armed guards dragged the vicious beasts from their holding cells. They looked exactly like the Dol'Ngrul, except without the spines that grew from them and they were sightless. The only armored part of their body was the fighters helmet on their head, to sheild their ears and guards their necks. A Dol'Ngrul and its master emerged from another transport. It barked orders to the Dol'Ngorn and they fell in line with their holders. They took their orders and spread out. Searching every hidding spot for ambushes and hiding trapps or pockets of Humans.

Hunter Killer barked a laugh and went into the building, looking for his Marshall. He soon found him on one of the balconies and approached from behind, "How goes the strike?"

(Well, you found Enigma abrutptly fast.. I'd almost scream "Godmoder" but it just isn't worth it. That, and I ussually let little things like this slip anyway. >.>)

Enigma merely jumps into the air, flapping his wings twice to escape the green ball of energy before morphing back into his original shape. Landing on both of his feet, he quietly surveys the scene below him. His threatening glare was directed straight at the man who dared to fire a shot at him, as the main emotion of Chaos is Anger. Enigma merely stands there, waiting for his opponant to make the first move. Traditionally, since he is an Assassin, he wouldn't allow his opponant a first move however this Time his opponant discovered him without him even being suspicious or even making a damn move. So, Enigma waits. Keeping his eyes directly on his foe, but also being aware of the surroundings so as not to be killed by an Agent or two.

Hunter looks up and catches sight of what the Marshall was firing at. He scowled under his face plate. His lower two arms remained crossed while his upper two grabbed his rifle from his back. He pressed a lower button and the loader track shifted from one clip to the second, loaded with special sonic rounds, with a special detonate on impact charge built into the head. He raised his rifel into the firing position as his second pair of arms grabbed their respective places, a similar effect as putting a bipod to stabilize the gun, and aimed up at Enigma.

"I'd leave now, If you know what is good for you... maybe you will learn from your mistakes and leave us to our work..." He slowly counted to ten as he talked, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Enigma looks at the toy his enemy held, and simply spoke in a sort of chuckle as his hand turned into a blade. "Oh please..If I wanted to hurt you, do you think I would have chosen a hiding place so obvious as a Rooftop?.." His smile fades away as he almost looks disinterested. "I'm an Assassin. One who's looking for work if you get my drift.." Enigma's smile returns, viciously as he heard the countdown. He could leap backwords off the Rooftop and grab onto a window-cill before getting shot. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part was convincing the idiotic man to not shoot him.

(The talking is under his breath not aloud, but next time I will clarify next time.)

Hunter smiled, he stopped half-way through one, tracked the figure with his scope at a rate musch faster than any creature thought was possible. He fired one round at the wall right below the figure, blowing out a good size chunck on that wall. "So you're looking for work? How can we trust that Chaos hasn't already got they grubby little hand on you? And I didn't miss, that was a warning shot.... If i could adjust that quickly what makes you think i can't aim strait?"

His power armor flexed as he set the rifle down next to him and he leaned on it. He muttered low to the Marshall, "So what do you think of the guy? Mabey he can clean up some of our loose ends...He isn't Human, that much is clear."