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S.C.E.S.S.

S.C.E.S.S.

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There are things happening all around us that we're not supposed to find out about. Some of those things are borderline paranormal and some are worthy of their own conspiracies. But I assure you they're all for your personal safety.

1,317 readers have visited S.C.E.S.S. since Paradigm created it.

Introduction

Squadron for Containment Elimination Securing and Storage
SCESS - (Ess-Zess)


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(You don't have to read it all, but I advise you to.)

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Open the door! SCESS personnel!"

...
There was no response from the occupants of the apartment.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"You've got ten seconds to open the door or we're forcing an entry!"

...
Still there was no response from the occupants. There was no sound save for that of the exhales of the four heavily armed men standing on the fire escape. The sound of the heavy downpour was, at this point, completely tuned out to the SCESS personnel. They've been out in the rain for about fifteen minutes, they paid no mind to it, they became oblivious to it. There was no light in the dimly lit alleyway other than that of the full moon directly overhead, for it was exactly 3:15 am. A minuscule amount of faint light poured out of a window across the alley but offered no illumination to the darkness around them.

"Five seconds before forced entry!"

Most apartments didn't have doorway access to a fire escape, but this one in particular had one specially built. It was owned by a chemical engineer who had a not so good reputation for creating highly questionable concoctions that would NEVER be FDA approved. The reasoning behind the unwarranted seizure of this engineer was not revealed to the personnel, but they knew they weren't to question their orders. Their orders were always justified. They did know, however, that whatever this engineer was doing was a severe threat to the country. Their tasks reserved for them were the ones that no normal citizen should ever know about. The tasks they carried out were tasks that society should never discover, under any circumstances.

"This guy isn't gonna open up. Ghost, plant the breaching charge."

Ghost nodded. He took two steps forward while taking a small black cylinder from his side. It was exactly six inches in height and three in girth, it weighed about five pounds. It was placed directly in the middle of the door. The charge had a flat side that was covered in an adhesive material, for easy attachment of course.

"On your word," Ghost declared. The men all assumed standard breaching position, slightly crouched and ready to storm the apartment, weapons in hand. Wolffe, the man leading this assignment, nodded to indicate the detonation of the charge. Ghost pressed his thumb down on a small detonator and the door was blown inwards accompanied by a loud blast and a small amount of smoke. The squad of men almost instantly burst into the apartment only to come to a halt about two seconds later, all stunned. The room was covered in blood. There were about six bodies on the ground. There was an unusual green fog covering the floor, but it protruded no higher than six inches off of the ground.

"What the fuck!?" Ghost shouted, "I thought this guy didn't have any enemies?"

"Obviously HQ was wrong. Look around the apartment, search for survivors- shoot anyone with a gun on sight. Take everyone else into this room and secure them," Wolffe commanded.

The personnel dispersed and searched the apartment. There were no survivors, just more blood, empty shells on the ground and more of the ominous green mist. It seemed to hug the floor, it was obviously very dense. It was almost difficult to walk through. The men eventually regrouped in the room with the fire escape door to stop and assess the situation.

"Where do you think this guy is?" Ghost inquired.

"I don't know. But HQ was obviously dead wrong on who this guy was and what he was doing." Wolffe responded.

"What do you mean?"

"There's no brewing equipment. No chems. No needles, vials, cylinders, vats, shit there's not even a single bottle in here."

"So the guy was...fake?"

"No.. I think he was worried."

"Worried?"

"Yeah."

"Of...being found out? Assassinated? Captured?"

"Murdered. He relocated. Maybe this was just a decoy lab.. I don't know, maybe his shit was stolen for all we know. What I do know is somebody wanted this guy dead, and they succeeded. He's not going to be cooking up any more chems for a looong time, but his computer's busted and his file cabinets are scorched."

"They destroyed all of his research."

"Yep. They were probably trying to get rid of this chem he cooked up, too. Guess it didn't disperse into the air."

"Whaddya think it is?"

"Don't know, but I don't want to stick around to find out. Let's get out of here. Chopper's gonna be here to pick us up in 30. Let's get to the roof helipad."

The men withdrew from the apartment and ascended the fire escape to the roof. After a thirty minute wait they were flown away by a helicopter. They were taken to a facility in β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ, California. It was a inconspicuous building, in the middle of a rather large city. The city, β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ, was very similar to New York, New York, except it was bigger. From the outside it was a normal storage warehouse, with two identical ones next to it, all surrounded in a ten foot chainlink fence. The fence was caked with razorwire and "Electric Fence" warning signs. On the front of the facility, which faced the gate to the compound, was a fifteen by ten foot gate. It resembled that of one on an airport hangar, but smaller, and sturdier.

The men entered this gate.

The interior of the building almost resembled a biohazard facility, one you might see during a viral epidemic film. Translucent plastic sheets, decontamination airlocks, etc. all filled the interior. They all funneled into one large industrial elevator, which was twenty by twenty foot wide and long.

They descended down this elevator.

At the bottom was a long cylindrical corridor made of sheet metal which, on the exterior, was lined in three feet of solid concrete. Inside was a metal catwalk which went on for about one hundred feet. It met with a large vault door. The door itself was a reinforced blast door which was magnetically sealed with a single retina and fingerprint scanner. Surrounding the circular door were heavily armored walls and one security camera in the top center of the wall. The exact specifications of this door are [data expunged].

They navigated a labyrinth of corridors that protruded behind this door. They were now in the SCESS Headquarters. A top secret bunker and underground fortress constructed beneath β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ. It was owned by Happyman, the humorously named yet mostly anonymous multibillionaire. His employer was unknown, but it was proven that he works for the government. Needless to say, SCESS is a secret government task force that specializes in containing, eliminating, securing and storing threats to the nation and otherwise odd artifacts and objects. Some would call them a Private Military Force, other would call them Mercenaries, but most would think of them as a real life Men In Black. What you call them, what you think of them is your own, but what they think of themselves as are guardian angels to the citizens of the country that they work oh so hard to protect.

They made their way to the briefing room. It was a large lecture hall with one, monolithic television screen above a stage. This screen was the only way Happyman communicated with the SCESS. As mentioned before, he was anonymous. Almost entirely. The four lined up infront of the screen. A large, shadowed figure appeared on screen. "Did you find my man?" The voice inquired. This was Happyman. He never appeared onscreen without being blacked out. His voice was not tampered with, however, he had a deep voice, and sounded to be in his mid thirtys. It was not raspy, it was not shaky, it was firm and powerful.

"Yes. He was gunned down along with five others."

"I suspected as much.. What else did you find?"

"There was an unknown green substance, gaseous, that filled his apartment."

"Dense? Hard to walk through?"

"Yes, sir."

"I thought it would be found there. Thank you for your help, men. You've done a great service to the SCESS today. It is with my greatest regret, and sorrow, that I must relieve you of your duty. Your witness of the contents of that apartment are something we must not let enter society. Officially, you all were gunned down at the apartment. That is what your friends and coworkers will be told."

Suddenly all of the men, save for Ghost, were gunned down by sentry turrets in the back of the briefing room. Ghost stood there wide-eyed in shock. "Wh-wh-what just h-happened.."

"They witnessed too much. I could not risk this knowledge leaving the room with anybody but you. There are nine others who went on missions similar to yours. You've all witnessed the greatest threat to this nation since Task-338."

"Task-338?"

"You are not to be informed on Task-338. However, you are now reassigned to SCESS Task-379. You're now on an elite sanction of SCESS that few have been privileged to do. The other nine men I mentioned are also on this squadron. They are your squadmates. You will lead them on this task, classified as Task-397."

"Care to explain what that green mist was? The relation to the chemical engineer? Why he was gunned down when he supposedly had no enemies?"

"The mist is a highly potent neurotoxin. A living neurotoxin. It was engineered by him to be weaponized in warheads. Our own taskforce gunned him down, you were sent simply to confirm the kill."

"Living neurotoxin? Confirm the kill? Wouldn't the squad simply radio in the completion of the task?"

"They were terminated. We had to be sure. And yes, a living neurotoxin. It's an organic substance composed of microbacteria that, when inhaled, make their way to the brain and attack the neurons that make conscious thought possible. It turns you into a mindless husk. Do not interpret what I am saying as a zombie- that is far from truth. Simply put, they are walking husks, nothing more, nothing less. They do not attack, they do not fight, they do not hunger of communicate. They stand there and stare at you, maybe occasionally shuffle around."

"Why weren't we effected?"

"The mist wasn't inhaled. It hugs the floor. It's dense. Too heavy to be weaponized. That's why we had to kill the engineer. We didn't want to allow him time to lighten the mixture so it could go truly airborne."

"I see... so if he's dead and gone, why are we on Task-397?"

"Because somebody else got to him before the previous squad. They hijacked his data and his equipment. Carelessly they spilled the aeru-neurotoxin in the process."

"Let me get this straight. We've got an unknown group of men with the schematics for an airborne neurotoxin...aero-neurotoxin.. that turns normal people into lifeless husks, and this squad-"

"Your squad."

"My squad, is supposed to find them, get the information back, and store it?"

"Yes."

"Any leads?"

"There's another complex, a warehouse, on the other side of town. Supposedly that's where traffic cameras tracked the van they came in to."

"My teammates?"

"They're in the mess hall. You've got two hours before you're deployed. Go get acquainted and gear up."

"Yes sir."

The screen went dark and Ghost was left alone in the room. He failed to notice the corpses of his former squadmates be disposed of. He didn't know them personally, save for Wolffe, but they were distant friends. He didn't feel much remorse for their deaths.


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(This part you have to read)

Background Info: The year is 2015. Not much changed since the year you live in now. The world isn't superfuturistic, there aren't laserguns, hovercars, nanosuits, no. It's a normal old society save for the metropolis known as β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ. If the city name is blacked out, you probably don't have clearance to it's name. Since 1945 S.C.E.S.S has been serving the nation fiercely. Whether it be their secret capture of Adolf Hitler and the ending of World War Two, or the prevention of nuclear war in the Cold War, they've done a great service for the country. Some of the things they've undergone are indeed borderline paranormal and conspiracy worthy, including the Roswell incident, otherwise known as Task-25(Procurement of Unidentified Flying Object), and the spiritual decontamination of several homesteads. Some of their tasks are simple search and seizures, others are assassinations. They're like a special forces unit without rules of engagement or procedural restrictions, and nearly unlimited funding. Only the best of the best are recruited into SCESS.

Current Situation: As explained above the current situation, Task-397, a chemical engineer named Mr. Michael β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ fabricated an extremely deadly substance. Mr. β–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆβ–ˆ's substance is an airborn neurotoxin, aero-neurotoxin, that has a 100% fatality rate. Within ten seconds of inhalation it completely destroys conscious thought by latching onto neurons in the brain and completely destroying them. It only effects the frontal lobe, the bodies core functions are still capable of doing their jobs. Complete information on the aero-neurotoxin below.
[data expunged]

Information for you: There are ten main characters in this roleplay as of now. Nine of them will be for you guys, and one of them is mine. Ghost, the leader of Task-397, is my character. Nine of you, or less depending on how many characters you want to have(no more than three), will control the rest. More characters may be added or removed at my discretion. Mind you this roleplay is not centered around Task-397, it is centered around SCESS. After completion of task-397(which may or may not happen), another task will be at hand, or multiple. The possibilities are open ended and I'm open to suggestions.

How to apply: All you have to do is provide me with character info. I want your characters name, age, gender, physical appearance, personality, what he or she will offer to the squadron, his or her specialties, and their notable accomplishments. I want your characters to be convincing. I don't want them randomly thrown together, and I most certainly do NOT want you to use an anime picture. This is one thing that makes me cringe more than putting a toenail under my big toe and kicking a wall. I'll leave you to design your own character template. I don't want characters to be set in stone though, if you want to, change them as the story progresses. I encourage it!

Where the roleplay will pick up at: Our characters will just meet up in the cafeteria. It will most definitely start before all ten characters are accounted for, that's fine, the others will simply be deemed as not on-sight at the base and still on their own individual tasks. I just don't want to have to wait for all ten characters if they don't come pouring in fast.

Schematics for S.C.E.S.S. Headquarters

Toggle Rules

Rules:
Please note these are subject to change as I see fit. And of course, obey RPGateway's rules.
1. Do not godmod. This includes:
a) Taking control of other characters
b) Killing said characters while offline
c) Attacking said characters without giving them a chance to defend(to certain extents, slaps or non-lethal attacks are exempted from this)
d) Have a super-invincible character or superpowered character who can kill hundreds of people with ease

2. Do not post illogically. This includes:
a) -SOMEHOW- pulling a rocket launcher out of your ass in the middle of a fight, when you have no indication of carrying it
b) Constantly survive multiple mortal wounds, like something out of Dragon Ball Z. You can not do this. It is not normal.
c) Do things that make no sense

3. Use good grammar, please! I'm no grammar nazi, but it can annoy me.

4. Don't apply with an application such as these:
a) A teenage girl who is badass in every single right and can do anything
b) Anything using an anime picture as your character - I would rather you not use a picture and use words instead.
c) Somebody who caries like ten different guns, five melee weapons, plus a whole arsenal of gadgets he would need like seven arms to carry.

5. Don't be a dick. Use common sense.

6. Keep your post past tense third person. I don't mind minor alterations to this, but I want it PT3P.

7. Please, don't be a jackass. This includes:
a) Use proper grammar, please
b) Use spell-check if you're not a good speller, please
c) Have fun and don't break the rules :D

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 6 authors

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All staff members and personnel on sight please report to the mess hall for 12:00 meal.

The monotonous robotic voice thundered through the SCESS headquarters, echoing around every corner, pouring into the ears of everyone within the complex. The automated announcement system commanded it's orders every six hours, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleep. It was never late, never early, always in six hour intervals. Ghost, who had been in one of the many armories, immediately ceased what he was doing to heed the automated call. If you were curious, he had been cleaning and maintaining his Smith & Wesson model .500 pistol. It was his pride and joy, the only weapon he ever truly used. Unless the mission called for something more capable he was perfectly fine with only a pistol.

He holstered his weapon on his boot. There probably wasn't a need to go all the way to the armory just to maintain his pistol, but he liked the armory. It was very futuristic looking, like something out of a Mass Effect game. The walls were snow white, and made into a fairly complex geometric pattern with concrete and ceramic plating for looks. The floors were similar to marble aesthetically, but much more sturdy and less likely to fracture. Exactly what they were composed of was unknown. The material itself was highly classified as far as technical specifications go. Funny, something every member of the base came in contact to.. yet still classified. Happyman had an odd sense of humor.

Ghost exited the armory and proceeded down the long, twisted, corridors that made up the headquarters. As similar to a labyrinth as the corridors may have appeared, they were still very easy to navigate. One who was familiar with the SCESS headquarters knew exactly where each one lead. One who wasn't could learn within a week. That's what the entire second week of SCESS Basic consisted of, learning the base inside and out. Not completely, of course, some wings and complexes are classified to new recruits. Rumors have it that there's also an entire sub-level classified to only the most experienced of agents. This is just a rumor, though.

Upon arriving at the mess hall he was greeted by someone. "Good evening sir, identification?" The man asked, holding out a hand in anticipation. Ghost withdrew his ID and handed it to the man who then nodded and gave it back. "Have a good meal."

The man was one of the many SCESS hall monitors. Now, when you hear Hall Monitor, you think of some nerdy kid in middle school with a bunch of pink slips that you're oh so eager to throw into the nearest trash can, right? Well, the SCESS monitors aren't quite the same. See, the SCESS takes security very seriously. Their monitors are strapped with some very, very cutting edge armoring, and carry very, very big guns. And let me just warn you now, they are by no means pushovers. If you piss off one of these guys, they can get you thrown off site faster than you can get on your knees to beg him to spare your own life.

Soon after Ghost entered the cafeteria some fairly large blast doors were sealed. Remember when I said security was taken very seriously? I meant VERY seriously. You had ten minutes to get to mess hall, and that was all, there were no exceptions. They sealed soldiers in, and everyone else out. It was mostly a mental thing, to get soldiers to understand that.. well, it's a long drawn out psychological explanation you probably don't care about. Long story short, they wanted you to realize that you were privileged to work in the SCESS, and you had to obey them 100% no questions asked, as nazi regime as it sounded.

"What'll you have?" a cafeteria worker inquired Ghost. "The usual. The steak, side of beans and broccoli, and a glass of icewater." Not the most appealing meal to some, but to Ghost, nutrition was vital. And top quality food was one of the strong points of the SCESS. They had five star meals. Not that "Meal Ready to Eat" stuff that was distributed in the armed forces. Ghost retrieved his food and sat down at an empty table. He was actually instructed to sit at this table, all of the new recruits to Task-397 were. That's how lunch went at SCESS..you ate at the same table as your squadmates. If you weren't on a squad, you just mingled around wherever.

He looked around, attempting to pick out who his possible squadmates were. Ghost was eager to meet them and get acquainted.

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Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa
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#, as written by Esana
When the loudspeaker rang out, Caitriona was already at the door to the cafeteria - no, wait, what do they call them again? Caitriona wondered, the words of the loudspeaker already slipping out of her mind as she handed her ID over to the hall monitor. He was a very tall man in slim, but powerful looking armor with a large gun leaning next to him. She smiled absently at the man as she entered, still pondering about the question - oh, right. Mess hall. That's what it is, Caitriona thought.

She wandered around for a bit, receiving mild glares and odd looks from the other people walking to get their lunch. Caitriona smiled at them and continued her search for the table that she was supposed to sit at. It was supposed to be labelled but... Caitriona shook her head. In a room that large, it really didn't help all that much - not unless the label was the size of an elephant and judging by the lack of elephant-sized signs in her eye's view, it was really unlikely.

Finally though, spotted a table that, at an angle, looked like it had a small, paper-sized sign taped to one end that said Task-397 in large, bold letters.

Caitriona edged herself sideways and stood on tiptoe to get a better look. It was the right table - currently empty. Looking around, Caitriona marked the location in her mind, taking a moment to commit the picture to memory and then turned around and walked the other way, almost running into another soldier. Luckily, the man had been paying attention to where he was going and nimbly stepped to the side, though he gave Caitriona a mild glare.

"My bad," Caitriona returned, before continuing on. She lifted her nose and sniffed, almost dog-like at the aromas around her - it was good food, definitely. Most of the time, scents this - delicious - only came into her nose when she was at an expensive dinner.

For a moment, Caitriona was distracted from her dinner quest by a hissing noise. She glanced towards the sound - the large blast doors were being shut. She had a vague impression of a mouse in its cage as the door was slid down - there certainly were similarities in the two situations. Of course, Caitriona thought as she stepped up to receive a tray, not every mouse has five-star gourmet food served to her that's guaranteed to be good and healthy.

"Do you recommend anything?" She asked as response to the cafeteria worker's question.

The cafeteria worker blinked at her and then sighed. "Seared chicken with apricot sauce, light spices. Side of small fruit salad. Grilled eggplant and mushroom sandwich if you're vegetarian. Comes with some tomato soup. Best drinks are -" The cafeteria worker broke off and looked Caitriona up and down for a moment, judging her. "I'd recommend the iced tea or some mineral water."

After taking a minute to consider - causing irritation in the line behind her - Caitriona said, "I'll take the sandwich. And iced tea, please."

It took less time for the cafeteria worker to serve her and shoo her away than it took for Caitriona to turn around and scan for her table. When she'd figured out the right direction, she headed towards it.

To her mild surprise, there was someone sitting there now - a tall, muscular man with very close cropped black hair, dressed in a combat suit - a more casual - if a combat suit could be called that - one than the hall monitors had been wearing. He looked rather intimidating and his meal matched his looks - very simple and hard - as Caitriona walked close enough to see.

She placed her tray down and sat down. "Hi. I'm Caitriona - Cait. Are you..." She was unsure of what to say - she only knew the leader's name - "Ghost?"

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Ghost had begin to cut his steak into even cubes with the knife and fork provided by the cafeteria workers. They didn't give out flimsy plastic sporks and dull butterknives, they trusted their employees with quality knives. It was a small bit of OCD that compelled the man to evenly cut his steak, but nothing big, nothing that would hold him back on a mission. He wasn't about to stop mid-battle to make sure his shoelaces were symmetrically laced. He plunged the fork into one of the cubes of steak and placed it into his mouth. It was somewhat moist, cooked rare, he liked it that way. No steak sauce though. He wasn't very fond of steak sauce. Just as he swallowed he heard a voice as someone sat down.

"Hi. I'm Caitriona - Cait. Are you... Ghost?"

Ghost smiled. "Yup," he replied in a friendly tone, "I take it you're on my squad?" It was somewhat of a rhetorical question meant to make conversation. It was quite obvious she was on the same squad, so he might as well get to know her. He took a sip from his icewater. It was very cold, just above freezing point, so he didn't exactly dive into it and chug it. Instead it was one of those small sips you'd expect some rich and fancy people take from a wine glass.

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Character Portrait: Jace Enheign
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#, as written by Grahf
Jace

ID in hand, Jace knew the drill, the guard allowed him leave to enter the Mess. He wasn't hungry, having had a late lunch, but God's Voice had commanded him to go here. No one knew if he was joking or not when he called the loud-speakers that, he would just look at the questioner funny. He had an odd humor, it was difficult to understand. The main issue came from Jace being smarter than you. It was not an insult, unless your IQ was at some crazy genius level...Jace was smarter than you. And he knew it.

Dressed today in simple civilian clothes; an olive green hoodie and cargo pants, black boots and a pair of sunglasses, after as many years of Active duty as Jace had served no one bothered to try to force a uniform on him. A quick sweep of the room locates the table his team is assigned, and brushing past several others Jace cuts in the food line. Those behind him stare rage at his back, while those that know him do the best they can to soothe tempers. One large man attempts to reach out and seize Jace's shoulder, only to be stopped by his buddies, one muttering something about '...you don't mess with the Doc..'

It was common knowledge; You did not mess with those that prepared your food, or those that sewed you up.

A simple drink was all Jace was after, today he wanted juice. Settled in his selection of some mish-mash of fruit juices in a large cup he turns and nods with a grin at those he cut in line..and wanders off. Taking a rather round-about tour of the Mess, greeting a few people he knew, he eyes the table he was supposed to sit at. By now there was two, a man and a woman. From his notes on the team he knew them both, knew them quite well. It was an advantage in his favor; as a medical specialist he HAD to know about the team, so he was issued detailed files on all it's members.

Satisfied that he had some advantage in the situation Jace finally joins the group. Sitting, silent for the moment, he drinks his juice while looking the others over.

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa Character Portrait: Jace Enheign
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#, as written by Esana
"Yeah," Caitriona said, giving a small smile. "That's right." She blinked at Ghost for a moment and then looked down at her sandwich.

It was very neatly assembled with whole grain bread and layers of mushrooms and eggplants and other mysterious ingredients all with some interestingly colored sauce spilled sparingly throughout the ensemble. Still, Caitriona had a feeling that once she actually picked up the sandwich, it would probably fall apart in her hands. She wondered how best to solve the problem - and then shrugged mentally. Sandwiches were never easy to eat cleanly, and unless she wanted to staple the sides shut, this one would probably end up the same way.

Picking up the sandwich, she took a bite. There was a crunch and then a leafy green vegetable that wouldn't break until Caitriona used her fingers to separate the thing, getting mayonnaise on her hands as she did so. She gave her finger a light lick to clean it and then wiped it on a napkin before finishing her bite and taking a sip of the iced tea. There was very little sugar in it, and all that she could actually taste was tea and the faint, acidic scent of lemon. She took another bite of her sandwich, this time trying to find a place where the leafy green vegetable - spinach, it tasted like - would break evenly.

She continued this way for a moment until a shaved, cold-looking man walked over to them and sat down. He looked them over, silently drinking his juice.

Caitriona blinked at him for a moment, swallowed her bite and then said, in a very light way, "Hi."

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The gym was near empty most mornings and especially as lunchtime drew nearer. As a results Zack was alone for most of his morning workout, which was the way he liked it. It had been a particularly rigorous session and was in the midst of being finished off with a thorough wash. The steady trickle and splash of the water from the shower echoed through the deserted locker room and beneath that stream of hot water, clouded by the steam, stood Zachary Fleming, forehead leant against the cool tiles of the wall. His breathing was slow and steady but deep, the remnants of adrenaline wearing off. It was the after-workout calm that led to him running a little later than usual and losing track of time. The speakers nearby blared out the call to the midday meal and he sighed, raising his palms to the tiles and pushing himself backwards.

A quick dry was all he had time for and gearing up was not a possibility so he threw on a tight-fitting, black T-shirt and some loose tracksuit pants before setting off at a jog for the messhall, wet hair plastered to his face and reaching almost to his dark, blue eyes. They were eyes that showed little, as dark as a lake in the shadows of a mountain range and reflecting the same isolated feeling. Like the calm surface of water in winter, it was difficult to tell if there was life beneath at all.

"Twenty seconds Bud, better move or you're not getting in!" The hall monitor yelled down the hallway at the approaching figure and Zack broke into a run, flashing his ID as he passed into the messhall. The door slammed shut and locked behind him seconds later, something he would perhaps never get used to, and he carried on at a slow walk to the back of the queue, sliding his hand back through his hair to set it in it's usual style of slicked back. He ended up behind a familiar fellow S.C.E.S.S employee and got chatting, his merry exterior never faultering. There was some sort of ruccus up ahead but he paid no mind to it, people in this line of work had a way of getting into disagreements often enough and he couldn't have cared less if it came to blows. He would not be the one who would shoulder the consequences.

"I'm heading the gym myself later if you wanna spot me? Need a good workout, been out on duty for a few days." The man, who could be called an acquaintance at best, had been on a mission and was using it as an excuse to be friendly and get to know Zack. How quaint.
"I might be there." He wouldn't, not now that he knew someone would pester him if he turned up. "You have fun out there?"
"Was pretty dull, recon mostly." Which meant classified, he had come to learn. Then again, all missions were. It was simply a pleasantry to ask. Zack liked to keep up appearances by appearing interested but he thought this particular individual to be a nuisance and an idiot. He quite enjoyed talking with the people that would serve their country alongside him; his squadmates, but he had recently... Parted with their company, rather suddenly. Today a new page would be written and he was actually looking forward to it. From what he could tell, there would be some very skilled soldiers in this squad. No pushovers, no gloryseekers and certainoly no idiots.
"Well, maybe I'll catch up with you later," he said to the man, who had obtained his lunch and seemed to be waiting for Zack to say something. "And if not, push a few extra reps for me, yeah?" The man laughed and departed with a thumbs up. Zack had a mental image of the man pushing the extra reps without a spotter and his arms giving out. It made him smile slightly as he ordered his lunch.


With a plate of exquisite food in his hand, Zack always felt a little confused. He had been raised on crap and it was taking some considerable amount of time for him to adjust. The intricacies of delicate flavour and texture that made a dish truly delicious were simply beyond his comprehension, yet he was slowly learning a few basics of culinary appreciation. He was a long way from becoming a food critic but that was hardly an ambition he would choose to follow up. So it was with an amateurs eyes and nose that he glanced over his fish; lightly grilled salmon, and then with a well trained gaze that he saw past the plate to the table he had been ordered to sit at today.

There were three people so far at this table, all apparently in the same situation as he, having never met before. Their body language confirmed it, they were closed off from each other, not yet a team or a squad. But they had to start somewhere, so he strolled over, brushing aside a lock of hair that had fallen across the top of his face as he did.
"Task-397?" he asked in a level voice with only the slightest tinge of an East coast accent, aware that the answer was yes. "Zachary Fleming." May as well get straight to the introductions. "Looks like I'll be working with y'all."

He took a seat at the end of the table beside a tall-looking fellow with black hair and eyes that seemed almost to match who was dressed in full gear. He reached his right hand across his chest, muscles still bulging after his exercise, and offered it to shake.

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As the intercom droned on, Fiona stopped hitting the punching bag. Shaking her head she tried to get the strands of hair that had fallen out during her workout. Sighing, she wiped the hair back using the sweat on her forehead to get it to stick. Unwrapping, her hands she stripped the bandages off of her hands, knuckles still red from the beating. This was her stress relief. She threw the bandages into her bag off to the side. It had all of her workout equipment in it and she never left her room without it when she was staying in the base. The woman pulled her hair down from the ponytail holding it and reset it in a low ponytail; her attempts to make herself more presentable. She knew she was meeting up with the rest of the team today so her choice in blowing off steam came at the wrong time. Though she wasn’t the only one in the gym, another person was there besides of herself. And unlike her, he actually went to take care of himself before lunch. Yeah. I probably should have done that too… Oops.

Grabbing her bag she threw it over her shoulder and headed for the mess hall. Shifting the bag around she pulled out her ID from the side pocket. Her bare feet padded on the cold floor. She knew the issues others had with her not wearing shoes or even socks, but she didn’t care. It was her own health not theirs. She had on long black stretch pants that she wore any time she went to workout and a loose fitting t-shirt; a dark green v-neck with a small left pocket. The shirt covered only half of the massive scar on her right arm, the most major part of it. It wasn’t something she wanted to explain on the first day. In fact, if she never had to, the happier she would be. As far as she was concerned this team was only being thrown together to take out a threat on a short term basis. It would be better not to grow attached to her new teammates and take the risk of losing them.

Knowing that she only had a certain amount of time to get to the mess hall, Fiona quickened her steps until she reached the guard. She showed him her ID, ignoring his piercing gaze and headed into the room glad that the other solider was the one getting yelled at for nearly missing lunch. As she put the badge back into the pocket, she swept her gaze around the room. She found the table easily seeing there were already people there eating. Heading over to the line, she waited trying to decide what she wanted. In the end, she got her favorite meal; spaghetti with melted cheese on top and butter bread. The bread was the best part in her opinion. After workout meals always deserved the best food.

Leaving the line with her meal and normal tap water, hating the mineral water, she headed over to the table where there were now four; three men and another female. Sweet, I’m not the only girl. Not going to be raped. She thought bitterly to herself. Taking in the present people’s appearance she was able to pick out the leader just by the way he was looking (of course all of them kind had the same look in a way), taking in everything. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen the people before, but she’d never spoken to them. Not even the man she’d left behind from the gym. Okay, not like I talk too much of anyone, anyways… Sighing to herself she sat her plate and cup down at the table before pulling her bag off her shoulder, putting it under the table and then sat down herself. She nodded to those present knowing her time to speak would come soon. The woman began eating as she listened to the other woman talk and then the male from the gym. She twirled her fork around the plate. Her stomach grumbled and she knew she would have to stop skipping breakfast. She ate a few bites before she piped in.

β€œI’m Fiona.” She stated giving her normal name and not the code name she hated so much due to her gymnastics skills that made her seem to fly. She really wished the name had dropped off or that she would be given a new one, but to no avail. Maybe this time it’ll happen. Yeah…

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"Task-397? Zachary Fleming. Looks like I'll be working with y'all."

Ghost turned his attention to the newcomer, Zack, and shook his hand with a firm grip. "Indeed," Ghost picked at his beans a bit with a fork before taking a bite. Needs a little salt, he thought, before taking a salt shaker and sprinkling some on it. There were salt and pepper shakers at each table, as well as a dispenser for sugar packets, kind of like at a restaurant. But it wasn't a restaurant.. obviously.

I'm Fiona.

He then redirected is attention to the other newcomer, "Welcome to the team," it was more directed at everyone than just her, however. He then spoke to the entire table. "You all seem like capable people. People that could hold there own in most situations. I'm glad to have each and every one of you on the team, and that I've the opportunity to work with each and every one of you." He spoke charismatically, like a leader addressing the public. "As you all are aware of, we're now part of Task-397.. Let's have our own little toast shall we? To 397?" It was somewhat of a tradition at SCESS to have a toast with your squad-members at the first lunch of a new task assignment. Something that just kind of gained popularity and stuck over the years. Mostly it was to celebrate while you could, in case you didn't come back in one piece.

Ghost figured that the other three members didn't make it to lunch or were mingling around somewhere amongst the masses. They weren't at the table yet and the doors had already closed, so those were really the only two options. They'd meet up eventually, but until then, he figured they would just have to do without.

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa Character Portrait: Jace Enheign
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#, as written by Grahf
Jace

The greeting received only a pointed look, Jace simply looking at Caitriona with almost a pained expression. He did not bother to explain it. Further responses were thwarted by the arrival of two more team members. The first, a male...was revealed to be the head-case that had been red-flagged in Jace's notes, this one received a quick glance, as the team's medic drank more juice. The files were in conclusive on this one, but ruled that he would be of use. However, his lack of compassion would be noted. It was not uncommon, but ran close to being dangerous in the long run.

The next to step up, and looking rather...fresh from the gym...was Fiona. 'Wings' as her file had nicknamed her. How quaint. A quick mental check allowed Jace to remember; she was to be his back-up, one of the only others here that could patch up the human form with any skill. It would do well to keep her alive, he thought, incase he needed any work done himself. It was always good to have back-up, but spoke to Jace on a personal level; those on high though him incapable. This did not bode well. If they felt a need to provide extra support..then this mission was nasty indeed.

All in all it was a nice team, healthy..for the most part, and rather sane...once again for the most part. They would be fine, though not all would survive. When did they? He would do his best however to keep the red stuff in, and the bad stuff out. Preventative medicine was killing the bad guys before they killed your team. He learned it that way when serving with the Marines, and it stuck with him.

The toast, always the toast. Some traditions seemed like a waste, this was one Jace could do without. He tried ignoring it one mission once, but it became such an issue that he had resolved to put aside his personal feelings on the matter. Jace frowned, lifting his juice, and speaking for the first time. "Three. Nine. Seven." Even tones, not soft spoken, just bland. He put forth nothing in his voice, just pushing out the words as they were needed.

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The man took Zack's hand with a firm grasp and gave it a shake, his gaze shifting to the woman who sat down as he did. Zack also turned his attention to her. It took a moment for the face to register and he remembered the woman from the morning's session in the gym. She had been trying her best to snap the chain holding up a punchbag from what he could tell, and with some pretty impressive strikes. A potential sparring partner? He thought maybe so.

The man whose hand he had shook started speaking and confirmed that he was the leader of this taskforce by welcoming them and proposing a toast in a fashion Zack knew to be tradition, though he had only done it once before. Without a thought of holding back he reached into his bag, which he had discarded rather unceremoniously on the floor beside him, and took out a bottle of sports drink, holding it out alongside his peers.

"Three nine seven," he said with a slight raise of the eyebrows, enjoying the way the words felt comfortable coming out of his mouth. His thoughts on the team so far were limited, he had yet to find out anything about each of them, but he had a strong feeling about each individual. Not good, never quite good, but strong. They all seemed capable, as pointed out by Ghost, and he thought fighting alongside them would prove... Interesting. He did however have doubts about one of them. The man who had given him nothing more than a seemingly cursory glance and who spoke the only three words he had heard with such a lack of emotion that it even made Zack think twice. But it was not that man that interested him from the start, nor even the leader of this outfit that he decided to question first.

"Nice to meet you all." He turned and looked across the table. "So, Fiona was it? I saw you in the gym, beating on that bag like you'd caught it in bed with your husband. Wanna train sometime? Can't beat a bit of sparring to bring the team together. Unless..." He looked at Ghost on his left. "There are any more pressing matters to attend to first?"

Zack had never been one for group conversation, he preferred to keep talking to a one-to-one basis. People had a way of speaking or acting differently in a group or even with the presence of other people, which was why he favoured the company of a select few to an extensive network of individuals. That, plus Fiona was a team member. Which meant that they would be in contact no matter what. Sparring with her would save him the trouble of spending time with someone he didn't give a damn about. Another image of the man from the lunchline dropping his weight and busting a few ribs. No smile this time, just an inquisitive gaze at Ghost as he awaited a reply.

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Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming
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There were a few things that a lot of people hated that Fiona did not. The traditional toast was one of them. She liked it only because it gave her a sense of belonging. A sense she hadn’t had growing up. She lifted up her water with a small one sided smile. β€œThree nine seven.” Without waiting she tipped her drink back not wanting to hold her arm in the air for long periods of time. Her muscles needed a small break so they wouldn’t knot together. She drank the water back letting it parch her throat before setting it back down. She gave a slight nod to the others before directing her attention to Zachary.

The woman managed a small smile at the punching bag comment before nodding her head. β€œSure. Though if I had a husband to be caught in bed with another woman I sure wouldn’t have done that to it.” She stated lightly as she nibbled on her food not wanting to be rude but still hungry. The fact that he’d been watching her was a shock. Most of the time the other people in the gym never paid any attention to her unless she was making a spectacle of herself, showing why she had the name Wings. Then again she couldn’t say she hadn’t been watching him either. He was good. Better than she was and she wasn’t afraid to admit it.

Sparring with him would be fun and interesting to say the least. She knew she probably didn’t have a chance in hell of beating him… but there were better things that winning. She could learn a lot from the man. Of course, if they had a real sparring match she should be able to do her β€œtricks”. And if that were the case, she wanted to see how he handled them. If he could stop her from doing them, she needed to learn. But she knew she always needed help with her ground work – it was her weakest area.

β€œSounds like fun.” She wasn’t sure if she should add his name or not wanting to seem to informal right after meeting. Fiona turned to look at Ghost. Before they came up with any definite plan they needed to know whether or not they had other business. She wasn’t sure if she would be up for a full contact match so soon after her workout and eating. An hour to at least let some of the food digest and maybe a shower to soothe the aching muscles.

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa Character Portrait: Jace Enheign
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#, as written by Esana
The man gave her a look just short of a glare. Caitriona blinked at him and then looked up as two others joined them - another girl, with pretty strawberry-blonde hair and a semi-tall, lean man with blonde hair - a bit longer than most of the other soldiers had. They introduced themselves - Fiona and Zachary, respectively. Caitriona looked at the shaved man, who was, at the moment, the only one who was still nameless to her. But before she could ask anything, Ghost spoke up. She turned her attention back to him, although she wasn't very interested by his idea - a toast - it seemed a little early and a little - a little empty - there was no point in it as far as she could see, nothing to celebrate.

Still, she lifted her glass, saying the numbers lightly and then adding, in a mouthed whisper that only she could hear, "May God bless us." She had refrained from saying a prayer before she ate because she hadn't wished to impose on the others. After all, religion wasn't always the best topic to start on. She drank her glass and then put it down again with a soft clunk noise. She had picked up her sandwich again when Zachary began to speak with Fiona - something about sparring.

Caitriona was mildly interested, but decided to let it rest for a moment. She looked at the shaved man, who's name was still unknown. Not that names really mattered in this line of business, but it was always nice to know "What's your name?" She asked, keeping her voice light and calm. Her sandwich settled comfortably in her hand, she took a semi-medium bite and chewed.

As she waited for his answer, she listened idly to Fiona and Zachary talk. There was not a large difference in size between the two - Fiona was almost as tall as Zachary - but while Fiona looked slender and lithe, Zachary had a more hard muscle build. It would be an interesting fight. She was not a hand-to-hand combat person, but watching people fight was always interesting - and she could always use improvement. She swallowed and took a light sip and looked at Ghost for his answer. If he didn't have anything more to say to them, then maybe she'd ask to tag along - it wasn't as if she had anything else to do.

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa Character Portrait: Jace Enheign
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#, as written by Grahf
Jace

Tracking the conversations flowing about, while also going over some of his notes in his head, Jace held up a finger at the woman's question. Taking a small sip of his juice, he waits, a pause in the noise, so that he need not raise his voice. Such a pause comes shortly there after, the two chattering about a spar waited for an answer from Ghost, and he himself looked to be chewing..so it was a prime window.

"My name is Jace. I will be providing medical and combat support for this mission. I have extensive practice in both front-line action, and combat-trauma, as I spent time working with the Marines as a Corpsman." he pauses, eyes moving from face to face. "However, you should all have some basic first aid know-how. If this is not the case, you will report directly to me after this meal is over, I will be instructing basic use of emergency gear."

With a nod towards Ghost he continues, "This here is the leader, we all listen to him. He says jump, we are already in the air. However, by Standard Action Regulations I have full medical authority to over-rule an order that is counter inductive to the squad. Bear in mind however that given the grave situation that we all may be facing....that rule may have to go right out the window."

He turned to look at Cait and nodded slightly "While god may not have a hand in things, I certainly will do my best." his smile was hardly what one would call warm. He knew her file, and knew the place religion had in her life. It was not meant to be a shot at her, but a small poke. Jace was an intellectual, he had no place for fantasy and religion in his mind, he liked to tease those who did.

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa Character Portrait: Jace Enheign
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#, as written by Esana
At first, Jace's words just slid over Caitriona, the name and the occupation absorbed, but nothing else. She listened as he listed his history a bit, but didn't bother to store the information under important files in her mind. After all, it was probably something that would never come up again - or at least, not on business anyway. And she didn't really think that this guy was up for making any small talk that didn't have to relate to a mission, so there was no point in storing the data.

Basic first aid... It definitely wasn't one of Caitriona's strong suits. She was a gunman - gunwoman, which meant that she rarely got very close to her target and even more rarely got injured. The times that she had... medics had always been available and willing to help. It was their job, after all.

She watched as he nodded to Ghost in deference, before he continued with a statement that was anything but. It made her smile absently, and she glanced at Ghost to see his reaction. Before she could register it though, Jace turned to look at her, nodding his head slightly. His lips spread in something that might have been classified as a grimace on someone else's face, but on his? Caitriona wasn't quite sure, but she had a feeling that the medic was giving her a smile, a cold one, yes, but still, a smile.

"While God may not have a hand in things, I certainly will do my best."

Her eyebrows rose, arching into fine bows, as she stared at him. From the look on his face and the tone in his voice, it was meant to be a quip on her. As if he knew her beliefs. She locked eyes with him for a moment and then blinked, relaxing herself and lowering her eyes.

Not everyone believed in God - she knew that very well. However, she also knew that God did exist. He might not interfere with life very often, but He cared about His creations and watched over them all the time - always and everything. God would protect her, and after death, He would welcome her into His kingdom. Those who didn't believe lived cold lives, sad lives - lives with no meaning in them. They didn't understand that every life was made by God and that every life is lived for Him. And unfortunately, it was their loss, not God's.

Still, even knowing that, Caitriona felt a bit of a pique under her skin. She felt challenged. Lifting her head, she smiled at Jace, keeping the smile light. "I think I'll take you up on that offer. I'd like some basic first aid training." Her eyes flickered to Fiona and Zachary. "If Fiona and Zachary don't mind, we could go watch their fight, and then afterwards, you could show me how best to take care of minor injuries." She looked at Fiona and Zachary. "Do you guys mind?" And then at Ghost, "Ghost, sir? Do you have anything for us to do?"

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Two hours before lunchtime...

"You did well Toxin...silent and clean as always" spoke the voice of a shadowed out man on the viewscreen "Now if you look behind you you will see the file for your next task they will be meeting at lunchtime in the mess....don't be late."

With that the screen went dark and Toxin turn to look behind her. There sat a large file marked 'Task 397'. Slowly she opened the file and started to read it. The first part of it went into detail about the mission and the Doctor and his toxin, second came the list with the codenames and pictures of her team mates.

"Interresting.." she whispered to herself as she closed the folder. She looked at the clock, a little over an hour just enough time to wash the last mission off of her with a nice shower...

Lunchtime

Toxin had slipped into a black tank top long black shorts and her combat boots. She looked more like some japanese punk rocker then a deadly assassin as she walked into the mess hall. She saw the table for Task 397 was empty as she ordered her japanese noodles and a bottle of green tea. She hated to be the first one to a task table so she waited and watched. She looked over each as they came in and sat down her mind puting codenames with faces. Finally they closed the doors for good so she ventured over to the table where she heard them talking seems she had missed the toast but she spoke up anyway. "To Task 397...you can call me Toxin."

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Ghost silently listened as they all talked. He didn't really have much input beyond what he had already spoken, there wasn't much to say. To be honest he wasn't a social person at all, more of a 'get stuff done' type of guy. He was perfectly fine with sitting quietly and just observing.

"Ghost, sir? Do you have anything for us to do?"

He snapped his attention over to Caitriona. "Yeah, after lunch you all should gear up, get ready to head out. We're going to be going to the briefing room in an hour, then we're going to be flown out on our mission afterwards." They didn't give them much time to prepare, but they didn't want the folks at SCESS to be lazy. As soon as they were assigned a task, they were fed, then debriefed, then shipped away. It generally got better results than waiting a day or two to begin the mission. Faster is better.

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An hour? God damn the efficiency of this organisation.

Zack had been hoping to at least get to talk to some of his new squadmates before they set out to start killing things together. He needed to know how they worked, needed some rapport , some kind of connection. How could they expect a team to function without knowing each other? Well, he knew the answer to that. It was because they were all the best, the very best. So they had no choice but to be in sync. They all knew what they were doing and knew they had to watch each others backs. Still, he was a little annoyed, he would have enjoyed some time for his muscles to recover. Perhaps they'd be heading further afield and he could rest up on the journey. Perhaps not. Either way he would have to be on top of his game.

"Entertainment's off then" Zack said, aiming his words towards Caitriona as he scooped the first bite of salmon onto his fork. "As is the training." He savoured the flakes of fish, excellently cooked as always, and looked at Jace. "So you'll be glueing us back together if we have an accident for now." He swallowed, face distant in thought for a moment. An hour would be time enough for him to gear up and gather his things, no doubt about that, but maybe he'd find a chance to have a chat with Ghost before the briefing. Each leader had their own tactics and strategies. Knowing in advance what to expect was never a disadvantage.

His face cleared and focused as he returned to his meal. Better than yesterday? He didn't care. It was just food.

Zack took this time, as he chewed another mouthful, to examine the people now at the table. An even ratio of Men: Women, a rare occurance in squads. Truthfully, he didn't care about sex any more than he cared about toenail length. All that mattered was whether they could do the job well. Looking at the newcomer, he was unsure. She looked as though she'd leapt straight out of a comic book, but in a strange way that seemed to fit. There were certainly a variety of characters in Task-397 and in his experience that made for a strong group. Clashes of personality seemed likely but hell, he'd prefer that to boredom any day. They were all professional enough to keep it from interfering with work.

Would he get along with these folks better than his old squad? He didn't care. That was politics, which ranked lower than food on his list of priorities.

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Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster Character Portrait: Ghost Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming Character Portrait: Toxin (Yumi Ayai) Character Portrait: Jace Enheign
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It seemed that several things could happen at once. The male who hadn’t spoken before finally opened his mouth. So he’s the one I need to continue training under. At least I know what he looks like now. Fiona thought as she continued eating. She took in Jace’s appearance before completely absorbing herself in her food until Toxin came over and the side comment about watching the sparing match if they were got one.

As the new female’s words reached the woman an odd twitch settled. Something wasn’t right. And instantly she had a feeling she and the other woman weren’t going to get along. She had always hated being addressed by mission names or even her nickname. So a woman who liked being called her code name and addressed everyone as the task didn’t bode well with Fiona. As much as she wasn’t a talker, she liked getting to know the people she worked with even if she lost them. Better to have known them for who they were than not.

Once their leader started speaking, she turned her head to glance at Ghost. There went the sparring match. Oh well, she knew her body needed a small reprieve first. She went back to eating knowing as much as everyone else that this could be their last meal. It was good and if it were to be the last at least it wasn’t crappy food. She finished off the spaghetti and leaned back. β€œIf we survive in one piece we’ll get that match.” She commented to Zack. She wanted so desperately to fit in here, to have a family and she didn’t want to lose them so soon. But she couldn’t let anyone know how much she wanted to bond just for the fear of the rejection and the lose she knew she would eventually suffer.

β€œSo do we get to know what we’re doing first?” She asked in Ghost’s direction. It would be nice to know if they were heading straight into the danger or not and their chances of coming back.

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Mobs

Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!

Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!

Current Mobs

No mobs have been created yet.

Spawns

Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.

Events

You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.

Permissions

Add and remove other people from your Universe.

The Forge

Use your INK to craft new artifacts in S.C.E.S.S.. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.

Notable Items

No items have been created yet!

The Market

Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.

Market Data

Market conditions are unknown. Use caution when trading.

Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale)

Open Stores

View All » Add Character » 9 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: "Ghost"
Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa
Character Portrait: Demyan 'Kav' Mikhailovitch Kavelin
Character Portrait: Adrian Pierces Olive
Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster
Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming
Character Portrait: Toxin (Yumi Ayai)

Newest

Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming
Zachary Fleming

Ex-Marine under confidential phsychological observation.

Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster
Fiona Lancaster

"I'd die for them - just not yet."

Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa
Caitriona Rossa

"I'm ready when you are."

Character Portrait: "Ghost"
"Ghost"

A soldier with a past.

Trending

Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming
Zachary Fleming

Ex-Marine under confidential phsychological observation.

Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa
Caitriona Rossa

"I'm ready when you are."

Character Portrait: "Ghost"
"Ghost"

A soldier with a past.

Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster
Fiona Lancaster

"I'd die for them - just not yet."

Most Followed

Character Portrait: "Ghost"
"Ghost"

A soldier with a past.

Character Portrait: Fiona Lancaster
Fiona Lancaster

"I'd die for them - just not yet."

Character Portrait: Zachary Fleming
Zachary Fleming

Ex-Marine under confidential phsychological observation.

Character Portrait: Caitriona Rossa
Caitriona Rossa

"I'm ready when you are."


Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » S.C.E.S.S.: Out of Character

Discussions

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Most recent OOC posts in S.C.E.S.S.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Sounds like as good a plan as any to me. Frankly, its better than just sitting around here doing nothing.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Fine plan. I'll get started on that in the morning, been swamped with overtime at work so haven't had a chance when I said I'd do it (My bad). We could have it so that the team gets split and the two mini-squads get sent on their own missions as a kind of live training exercise? Something to get them working together. How's that sound?

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

I know what you mean. Maybe if we get the sparring going, or can just skip it... we could just put that the three of our characters got sent off on their own mission. Doesn't have to be related to the main story arch, but we could always connect it back to it somehow.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

I guess. Gonna need some direction soonish though. Spars and stuff are grand..but I wanna get the story going. I will check and see if I need to post in the morning..too tired now.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Sweet, thanks. I hate posting after myself... that's my fault there. At least its still the three of us. Right?

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Well if no one else is going to volunteer then I guess I'll do it. I'll get a post up either today or tomorrow.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Sounds like a plan other than over taking Ghost. We could always over write it and say that orders were changed and make it a past tense thing so we're not touching the other characters. So who wants to start this thing?

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Well I say we keep it going and wait for the GM to come back. If he doesn't, well, that sucks. But better that we give him a chance. How about we hijack his character, just for a minute, and have whoever gives the orders send him a message saying that the mission is postponed. Tube drivers are on strike again. Gives our characters a chance to run off and do their own thing for a while.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Why up to me? You joined before I did. I mean we could try and brain storm some ideas to come up with something to do to keep it alive. Maybe the GM would come back by then...

So does anyone have any ideas? And its not like we can add more people without him either. So it's looking like a three man team. We need something to keep the rp going because I really did like this idea.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Dunno. We could go do our own thing, wait more, or go our seperate ways. Up to you.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Well, damn. There's one gone. So now we're still stuck without a GM... any ideas of what to do from here?

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Hi guys, I hate to say it, but I'm leaving RPG for an extended period of time (I don't know how long). Life is really not great right now, so...

I'm really sorry. I'll miss you guys. Feel free to keep using my character.

Good-bye.

~ Esa

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Yes, I agree too though not on the waiting part. Spring break is next week and I could really sure a stress relief... Anyway even if we give him a week who should do the breaking away?

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

I dunno. I can wait forever, as I have that kinda time. But I would like this to resume soonish.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

I did pm him, but I haven't gotten reply back yet sadly. I like your idea about that. How long should we give him? I think I sent out the pm yesterday morning.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Well, since we're all slowly raising our heads, maybe give it a day or two and see how many other people are still hanging around? PM the GM perhaps and see if we can get this up and running again. If he doesn't show then there's no harm in sending our characters off on their own merry way until he re-appears.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Yeah I know what you mean. That would have been the smart thing to do letting us go on our way to establish the characters and bonds before going into battle. Especially with the GM disappearing. Though it seems a few of the others have disappeared too. So what do we do? Any ideas?

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Im here, just kinda waiting for the story to carry onward. I think we should have went with the down-time/training arc...activity would have been nice. As is no one but the GM knows what is supposed to happen now.

Re: [OOC] S.C.E.S.S.

Looks like it's just you and me, Avenger...

Anybody else out there?