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Lulu Botrelle

"You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs, but the Devil's in the details"

0 · 289 views · located in The Citadel

a character in “The Age of Gifted”, as played by scoundrelboots

Description

Image

Full Name: Knight Commander Lulu Vivianne Botrelle

Nicknames/Aliases: Lu

Age: 29

Gender: Female

Gift: Nervous system manipulation

Loyalty: Erubescan; Commander of Biological Warfare and Enhancements


Description:
  • 4'11" with a petite hourglass figure, generally boosted to 5'4" by five inch heels
  • Platinum blonde hair typically worn in a neat bun
  • Emerald green eyes and sharp features, with full, red-stained lips
  • Wears Erubescan uniform/Commander's suit in prim-pressed condition
  • Confident posture and graceful stride

Personality:
  • Cold/stoic in professional scenarios
  • Detail-oriented; calculating
  • Manipulative/Flirtatious
  • Loyal to her select group of friends
  • Ambitious


Skills:
  • Convincing liar/persuasion/social actor
  • Leadership/Manipulation
  • Reading people/body cues
  • Intense study into body/nervous system function and anatomy
  • Nervous sensing; Can use her gift like a sonar for active nervous signals
  • Reasonably decent markswoman
  • Quick reflexes/fighting style based around predicting body movements

Weaknesses:
  • Small stature; Easy to physically overpower
  • Lack of shielding; Can be shot/damaged by other projectiles
  • Heavily repressed past/traumatic memories
  • Fear of mind manipulation/psychics
  • Affinity for physical contact


Brief History: Lulu was born into Erubesco, and had a relatively rocky childhood due to the volatile and dangerous nature of her gift during her younger years. Unable to fit in well with her peers, she was recruited into Erubesco research at sixteen for work on the SKIP Project: An experiment involving child subjects and radiation. Her ambition and desire to please drove her to take part in the project, which colored her morality as grey at best. She then took part in official Erubesco Basic Military training, and quickly rose through the military ranks upon graduating. Six years ago, she became the youngest Commander to head a major research department.

More recently she suffered severe brain damage during an attack on the Citadel and was left in a coma. Some meddling by an Elemental brought her back from brain death, but at the cost of destabilizing her mental state and resurrecting long suppressed memories and emotions. The damage caused her to fail in a mission to terminate her first project, Skip, and she was promptly demoted and ruthlessly tortured by a close friend for treason.

After her disgrace, she made a personal vow to seek revenge on King Skylar. Her position was eventually restored following an investigation as to her mental health at the time of her betrayal, but her pledge stayed firm. While working and showing no outward signs of deceit, she has been growing a small, select rebel force beneath her.



Other:
A minor history of kicking janitors, but being generally charming to everyone else

So begins...

Lulu Botrelle's Story

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Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Commander Botrelle had been engaged in a calm, if not uneventful walk to her office when the Viceroy’s announcement rang out over the speakers. She paused in her stride, as did the others in the Citadel walkway, and hung her head in remembrance for the fallen. When the Viceroy announced the news about Avalon’s promotion, however, it was all that Commander Botrelle could do to keep her face from contorting into a scowl.



Not that she thought he had been slacking in his duties, of course. She knew very well how hard Avalon had worked to “earn” his new post.



Lulu joined the other workers in their applauding and chipper utterances of “Long Live the King” as they passed one another on their way to their morning duties. There was no need for bitterness. 



She did, however, take a swift turn down a west-bound corridor as quickly as possible, tapping something rapidly on her tablet as she rearranged her schedule to accommodate an almost clean slate for the day. Her heels clipped against the polished hardwood flooring as she headed into and elevator and traveled back up toward the base’s housing district. 



At the 27th floor from the top, all five feet and four inches of Lulu Botrelle (for she was wearing her tall heels,) strode out of the elevator and down the hall with the determination of a wildfire through dry grass. She took a left turn, paused to read a room number, and then tapped against the door with the back of her knuckle.



“Norrevinter?” 

She paused a moment, then tapped again.

“I know you’re in there. Open up.”

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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  1. possible wrong location

    by VitaminHeart

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A knock on the door.

The Knight lifted her head towards the sound, as she heard a very familiar one.

Lulu?

She rose to her feet, uncertain how nervous she should be about this. She had not exactly been the best friend in the last few weeks, and, if she was going to be honest, probably did deserve to get chewed out. It would not be the first time that Botrelle had told her off. However Lulu was also a Commander, and Kora wasn't...not now anyway. Whilst she was not. Though the woman was not exactly looking forward to the prospect of hearing what Lulu had to say about her conduct, she was more concerned that she might be bringing some worse news in an official capacity.

Still that was enough to get Kora on her feet and over to the door, snapping the lock and pulling it open a little way to regard her old friend. Even with her tallest heels on, there was still over a foot of height difference between the two. People might have laughed at the comical nature of the two next to each other, if one were not of of the most ruthlessly efficient Commanders on base and the other one had not torn enemies clean in half.

"I'm here." she replied, her eyes settling their gaze down at her own feet as she was reluctant to look the woman in the eye.
"Uh, morning."

She shifted awkwardly, in a somewhat futile attempt to sound like everything was normal even if her appearance contradicted it entirely.
"I er...take it you heard about Avalon just now?"

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

Setting

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Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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The Commander raised one impeccably groomed brow as Kora appeared in the doorway, looking up and down the entirety of her form. Her old friend was a mess, and if the Knight’s bloodied bandages and filthy hair weren’t enough cause for concern, the soreness that plagued her body was: Before Kora even came to the door, Lulu could feel that the berserker’s nerves were raw, pulsing with stiff aches and exhaustion.



On top of a pitiful hangover.

“Hey,” she said quietly, deciding not to mention that Kora looked as if she had crawled out of Hell through the sex worker’s service door.

Norrevinter already knew that.

As Kora brought up Nicola’s announcement, Lulu’s lips pursed into a grimace. “I heard the good news,” she responded in a dry, chipper tone, folding her tablet and placing it in her pocket, “If he’s getting a ball, you can probably be promoted again in a matter of days. I hear Skylar’s giving bonus points, too, if you throw me through a wall.”

She put one hand on the doorknob, and pulled it open a crack more than Kora had. Her expression softened as she looked at her friend, not sure what more to say about the situation at hand that could improve it even marginally.



“Have you been eating?” 



Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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"Well in a matter of days I should be offer to the front...on what I guess amounts to an indefinite tour of duty...if you hadn't heard already. And I'm not sure I have it in me to out-bastard Derrick at this point in time.." she responded n a slightly feeble attempt at a joke.

Kora stepped back, in order to allow the commander inside as she was edging on the door a little. She wanted to demonstrate on some level that she hadn't just spent the time since the mission doing nothing at all. She had managed to clear nearly all the stuff that was in there. Kora had never been the most orderly person, and had had an enthusiasm for impulsive purchases, so it had not been easy to get rid of the items. Self loathing helped.

"Uh..not really been hungry." she mumbled in response to the question. She could have lied about the fact that she'd not really eaten in days, but the red-head was not a brilliant liar at the best of times...and they'd been friends long enough that she knew it would not hold up.

She really didn't feel hungry. She also hadn't been certain how well it would have gone initially after all the gunshots she'd taken to her abdomen. Her interest in anything had waned rather a lot.

The berserkr reached up, awkwardly rubbing the grubby hair on the back of her head. Kora was really not accustomed to apologies.
"Hey uh.. Lu..I'm..I'm really sorry. For what happened. For me not helping out.. it wasn't right. I was so obsessed with going after... I should have helped you after that. And I didn't...and if you're pissed at me I won't hold it against you."

She spoke quickly, as if trying to force the words out as soon as possible, before returning her gaze to the floor.
"So yeah...just though I'd get that out there so you didn't think I was okay with it. I would've punched Avalon in the face if I'd seen him but he took off pretty quick."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Lulu entered the room with a careful tread, stepping lightly so that the signature click of her heels was all but absent. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she replied to the apology, though she had been waiting for some time to hear it. She shut the door softly behind her, and headed promptly toward Kora’s kitchen to check for groceries.

The cleanly emptiness of the apartment was unsettling— Lulu was used to sidestepping piles of things when she dared to visit Kora, and the bare floor only served as a reminder that this would not be the berserker’s home for much longer. 

It was far easier to focus on finding Kora a meal, and ignore the rest of it.



“You had family matters to attend to. I understand that. And, really, my situation was nobody’s fault but my own— I wasn’t well to work, and I mistakenly thought I was. You can’t blame Derrick, either. He was just doing his—“ Her voice caught, and she swallowed whatever word she had planned to end that sentence with.



“Well, you know.” 



After another moment of fruitless searching, Lulu pulled out her tablet and began looking up the menu of a delivery service. “Go get yourself cleaned, Norrevinter. I’m ordering you food, and while we wait on it, I’m fixing your sloppy bandaging.

“You stink.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Of the few things able to force Kora's long numb sense of motivation into some kind of action, it was a fair amount of shame. Whilst she'd long given up on doing anything purely for her own self-respect, criticism still stirred enough of a sick feeling in her stomach that Kora was compelled to acquiesce to Lulu's demands, and fairly promptly dragged herself into the shower.

Feelings of shame having won over feelings of futility, the Knight pulled off the bloodstained clothes and old gauze, and snapped the shower on, standing there for a few minutes as she watched the water drain away as unpleasant brownish-red.

Most people might hve been more concerned about the risk of infection for leaving fairly significant injuries largely untended to. Normally, even Kora would have...but things had dulled in their priority ltely. All things had.

She washed the worst of the blood and dirt off of her skin and rubbed some shampoo into her hair, getting it clean enough that the water ran through it clean once again, and generally made a perfunctory attempt at tidying herself up before stepped out of the bathroom one again. There was a towel wrapped around her body and her hair was dripping and several shades darker with moisture.
If her demeanour had not improved much, her hygiene at least had. The lack of bandages made the half-healed wounds on her shoulders more obvious, though she'd covered up enough to hide the worst of it.

"Derrick left me some stuff when he left. A uh, basket of candy. Guess he must have been feeling bad though I don't know why it was aimed at me." Kora explained as she tried to find some clean...or at least cleaner clothes amid the boxes she had.

"Well...it was here. Ended up giving it away. Sent it over to Acolyte Piper as an apology...don;t think I ever heard anything back."
The knight stopped for a moment, silent, before she shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh well.Upside of getting sent out is you don't have to worry about folk not liking you, right? I mean, why should I care what they think. It's not like I'm going to be here much longer...not like...not like I'm ever coming back..." Kora trailed off, letting her hands drop while still loosely gripping a couple of items of clothing.

"I mean. I'm sure I'll be fine. Nothing I can't handle. Like Varren said. It's what I'm suited for. Yup. That's what I'm good at."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Lulu did not feel good about guilting Kora into personal hygiene, per se, but it beat the alternatives of ordering or fighting her into the shower.



While the Knight headed into the bathroom, Lulu set about typing in an order to a breakfast service. She requested a pot of coffee, considerable helpings of eggs, bacon, and potatoes, and a massive side of toast, butter on the side, in case Kora was unable to keep anything else down.

Adding on a pitcher of mimosa crossed her mind, but she decided that it would be in poor taste.

Upon hearing the water stop, Lulu set down her tablet and picked up the first-aid kit before making her way over to the couch. “Sit,” she said, opening the box in her lap and pulling out a bottle of sanitizer to make sure her hands were clean. 

Though the wounds were not any worse than Lulu had imagined them to be, seeing them uncovered added an extra element of unpleasantness to the whole thing.

She went silent while Kora spoke, and pursed her lips as she struggled to string together a consolation. “Avalon’s… He cares," she offered, "Or cared? Whatever he does, anyhow. And Piper...” She sighed in defeat, and unwrapped an alcohol wipe to clean the angry redness around the worst of Kora’s shoulder injuries. Her gift worked as she cleaned, sending a cool numbness over the wounds to replace whatever sting would come from having them muddled with. 



“You have to keep your chin up, Kora,” she mumbled, “It— It doesn’t seem like it now, but you’re going to be okay. This is going to be fine. And… And you are a strong fighter. But you’re good at other things, too. You can read a battle from every angle. And people do like you. You’re just…”



Lulu shook her head, too focused on her work to look Kora in the eye. “…You’re having a rough go of it, and it’s from things you can’t control. They didn’t give you a fair shot. You can’t put that on yourself.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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Kora obediently took a seat on the couch and let Lulu start working. While the wounds had not bothered her enough to go seek any help, it was rather a relief as the numbness conveyed by the woman's power spread across her shoulders. She sat with her hands in her lap, arms holding the towel in place, with her gaze on the floor.

For her friend's assurances that it was not her fault, she did not feel that way.

"I might as well. The people who have the say over what happens to me have already made their minds up...and it's them that people listen to...and I' not arguing with higher ranks again. This was what got me into this in the first place. I picked a fight with Balthazar so he made me a Commander just to watch me make a fool of myself....pretty sure the fight I picked wasn't even worth it." she remarked, just a bit bitterly upon looking back at what had taken place. It was only a few weeks, but it seemed so long ago. A lot had happened.

In many ways her actions before then felt more distant from having had such a strong sense of purpose. She'd been so sure then.

"I figure I just have to go along with it. Tone Varren had was one of those things that he wanted me to know he was letting me off easy and that if I made a fuss it was going to get way worse. It could have gone worse. I had Piper calling me a traitor for backing out. If that was what they'd fixed on...."
She gazed at the scarred backs of her hands.

"Probably the best way this could have turned out... knights are dead because I couldn't keep it together. They trusted me to lead them and I.. ...I just feel so guilty."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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“You can’t talk like that,” Lulu said, dabbing healing ointment onto the large shoulder wound, which she then layered over with gauze pads, “You’re a good Commander, Kora. A good person. You care— You wouldn’t feel like this if you didn’t.”



Kora’s mention of Balthazar, and specifically how the Viceroy had set the woman up for failure, set Lulu’s rosy lips turning down into a pursed scowl. It certainly was not the first time the man had lined up a situation he suspected would break someone— and not even the second, now that she paused to mull over it. 



“Balthazar set you up, Kora, and you know it. You did as well as anyone would have done in your shoes. But he knew you’d break.” After placing a final stretch of medical tape of Kora’s shoulder, Lulu moved back so that she could look her friend in the eye. “If you want to put the blood on anyone’s hands, put it on his. He orchestrated this, Kora.”


She broke her gaze with before going on, thick lashes shielding her emerald gaze as she looked through the rest of the first-aid box. Her voice was softer and more steeled when she spoke again, holding a muzzle over harsher words than she would allow herself. “He assigned me to terminate S.K.I.P. because he knew I was in no state to manage the task. Then he demoted me without trial. Then he assigned Derrick to… Well, you know. And Avalon left. So the last Commander available to handle a field operation from the Citadel was you. Cue the base in chaos, just as Varren comes back from a mental health Sabbatical… and it’s all a bit too convenient, isn’t it? And then the bad intel on the Memoli girl—”

The Commander’s train of thought was broken as the doorbell rang. “I don’t trust him, is all,” she concluded as she stood and crossed to the door. There was a moment of quiet as she signed off on a tip and took the bag of food from the delivery Serf, but her frown returned as soon as the door was shut.

“Don’t be so quick to take all of the blame, is all I’m suggesting, Norrevinter. I think there’s more here than what we’re seeing. And can you hold down food?” She carried the bag over to the coffee table and set it down, promptly pulling out the carry container of eggs and bacon and setting it open.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Larke Sterling Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Commander Green
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The berserker sat listening, momentarily silenced by the whole of the story she'd only seen bits of.
Lulu had been punished for not terminating Skip? Skip had been set for terminating? This was a bit of a revelation...and really only served to make her feel more wretched from not people more helpful than she had. Still it told her a lot. It had not just been her that Balthazar had been out to destroy.

When Commander Botrelle went to answer the door, Kora took the opportunity to slip out of the way and pull on some of her cleaner clothing. Still aching all over, she did at least feel a little less pathetic. She was wrapping some adhesive bandages around the burned palms of her hands when Lulu returned.

"Oh...uh...yeah...probably." she responded to the question asking if she could keep food down. What that actually meant was that she hadn't really ingested anything other than painkillers, soda and alcohol in days, but that she'd not been vomiting blood since the day before, so guessed that it was okay.

The Knight set down at the coffee table as she tied the bandages off at her elbow, at least allowing her to get hold of things without the sharp stinging of untreated burns.

"You're right, he did set me up to fail.. but what can I do? Varren wants me out. Thinks I'll be better off at the front. How very magnanimous of him." she muttered, a little bitterly.

It was far from lost on her that Lulu had been re-instated in her post while she was getting unceremoniously booted out of the citadel. She could hardly feel resentment when she knew some of the unpleasantness thar had happened in the interim, but Kora could hazard a guess as to why it was.

"I don't exactly play the popularity game very well and it's not as if I've got too many friends in high places. Considering the things Piper had to say about me I think it's probably only having a foot of height on most Knights that's stopped be getting smacked in the face in the corridors."

Kora sighed, flexing her handss they rested on her lap.
"What am I gonna do, Lu? I think I'm really screwed this time.


----

Much of the Citadel that morning was cheifly concerned with the coming of the big ball. Commander Green was, of course, invited by default. His rank invited it. However that morning the research head was concerned with rather more pressing matters. Business did not simply end when there was some party on the horizon.

And certain researchers did not stop being captives of groups of fanatical terrorists either.

As the base began to stir, Green was stood within the fortified chamber of the teleportation zone, with its Knights stood guard on the exists and numerous signs bidding for ID and clearance cards.

His rather distinct presence was enough to allow him to enter with a short salute from the guard contingent. Tall, slender, his silvery-white hair shining beneath the halogen bar lights, he was hard not to recognize, even with out the bright, carnivorous eyes like radioactive malachite. The presence of the green-eyed figure also to allowd the man with him to pass without questioning.

That was helpful, as there had already been a fair amount of red tape and hoop-jumping involved to get Larke Sterling cleared to leave the Citadel when he was, by all accounts, supposed to be a prisoner held by Erubescan authority on a fairly long sentence. And year there Commander Green stood, ready to release him out into the Wasteland unaccompanied.

Some might say that that was madness.

Then again, some might also say that what the prisoner was planning to do was madness too, with Green expecting him to face off against a militant cell that had already claimed the lives of many far better prepared troops, let alone steal two people awat from them.

Of course, if Green felt that way about either of these matters, not a single hint of it could be seen in his face as he meticulously outlined the kit he would be sent with....standard field gear as well as an... 'enhanced' tracker in the unlikely event that he were to wander away.

"Now remember." the researcher stated.
"The group in question are not only violent, but very persuasive. If you are not attacked immediately they will most certainly try and manipulate you. I suspect that they will have similarly manipulated Helena, and encouraged her to fear us. Do not let this throw your judgement. Both her life, and the life of Miss Kovalenko depend on your success. I do hope, Mr Sterling, that you feel prepared for the risks of the mission?"

Green could be almost certain that he was not prepared, when so many had been utterly flattened by this persistent little invasive creeper of a group, spreading through the cracks of the Helton rubble. There was a very good chance he was sending this man straight into the fire, though there was no real remorse or concern in the mind of the Commander.

Worst came to worst, it would at least mean they were likely to panic and kill Oren before she gave away too much data.
You used all your options, even if the outcomes weren't always the ideal resolutions.

Green had taken to playing the longer games.

Kovaleko and Sterling were useful to have around, but ultimately disposable.

And he would take Helena eventually. One way or another.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle
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The mention of friends in high places was not missed on Lulu, and and she sighed into a sympathetic frown. “It’ll work out for the better, Kora,” she said, nudging the food closer to her friend.



Lulu was not at all sure of her own words, but it was better to say something consoling than nothing at all. Kora was one of the strongest people on base— Her ability to go days with unattended wounds causing no more damage than extreme discomfort was a testament to that. Still, the front lines of the battle were no joke, and she knew many good men and women who had been lost to the barrage of gift-fueled violence.



“Varren isn’t wrong about you being suited to it, though,” she consoled, “You’d be a better field Commander than anyone on base right now. And it isn’t your fault this is happening like it is.” 



She pursed her lips for a moment, looking at the table as she tried to phrase what she would say next. ‘I’m going to use my impending sexual relationship with Nicola Varren to bring you back on base, and then hopefully convince you to help me in my plan to kill the King, and after that you’ll be top military brass, so stop worrying your little head,’ just didn’t seem like the proper words of comfort at the moment.



“I can maybe put in a word, with Varren?” she decided instead, “Convince him that Balthazar is out to gain some personal satisfaction from harming you? And then he’ll have to request you back.”

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nicola Varren Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Rick Ronin
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Knight Saffir Fisher hadn't had the easiest few weeks.

Going from a happy enough, if rather dull stint at some tiny outpost where the most they saw most days was a feral dog tripping the motion detectors to having half her squad killed while she bled to death half crushed under a fallen locker.

After all that had taken place, the Citadel City seemed very strangely peaceful by comparison.

It had been her first time venturing outside since...the incident. At least partially because it had taken a good week or so for her to feel steady on her feet after getting her shredded spinal chord hastily put together by a healer. She could mostly feel all of her toes, and whilst the weakness she still felt was enough to excuse her from active duty for a while, there was only so long she could use it as an excuse to stay in the Citadel and avoid seeing people. Well. People aside from Mel.

Besides, it wasn't enjoyable or healthy to be stuck sitting around with too much time on her hands.
She would usually go and bother her squadmate under the guise of having something constructive to ask him, but Mel was busy with his strange new roommate, some morose-looking guy billeted there. Saff didn't feel any particular desire to join in on Mel's attempt to introduce the kid to the facilities of the Citadel, so going out to buy some much needed groceries seemed a good second option.

The young Knight, having donned some civilian clothes, strolled along one of the streets with a plastic bag full of groceries in each hand, and her brightly coloured headphones pulled up over her dyed hair. Military issue earpiece hung loose around her neck. It was protocol that she kept it on hand in case of an emergency callup...but it didn't say she had to keep it on...especially when her powers would let her pick up even minute activity on the thing without even lifting the phones. Sound manip was far from the most prestigious of abilities, but it did come with a few handy perks.

She was toying with the idea of picking up some coffee for her, Mel and his new roomie, on the basis that whatever stuff the Citadel catering bought in tasted like baby puke, and debating on if she should make sure emo guy didn't have some kind of dairy allergy, when something cross her path that made both bags of groceries collapse into the paving slabs at her feet. A pot of peach flavoured yoghurt rolled along the walkway, in the direction that Saffir had just seen the figure of Rick Ronin, the wanted terrorist, stroll into some shop. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat from panic, the knightess veered hurriedly off her path, dashing into an alley off to one side from the building. Once there the sound of electronic music swiftly cut out as she wrenched down her headphones and fumbled with the communicator, ending up holding it to her ear with a shaky hand and snapping to the emergency channel.

"C-calling Emergency Channel. Knight Saffir Fisher c-calling in from city. Just logged my location on the system. Just s-sighted terrorist inside city. Rick Ronin. I repeat. He is inside the city at this location. How should I proceed?"

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nicola Varren Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Rick Ronin
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In events of a call to the emergency channel, the call was broadcast to both the highest and lowest commanding ranks. Transmission to any of the ranks in between were to be determined by the recipients.

Nicola Varren was one of those. Up with the sun, he’d already been working for a few hours, currently arranging schedules before anything urgent or necessary came up. From his behaviour when Fisher called in, one would have thought he’d been waiting for this very news, eyes closing for a moment while the man gave a resigned sigh, before calling up surveillance. From there, he was able to view the tapes and determine that yes, in fact, that was Rick Ronin.

Eyes narrowing, Nicola began to deal with the situation. First, a flag on all the guards around the perimeter, because Ronin had walked in and someone had missed it. Next, a message to surveillance for someone to go through the tapes and track Ronin’s path through their City. Third, alerts to Grand Chancellors and Chancellors, to be prepared to be called to deal with the high level threat posed.

Finally, as more of a precaution than anything.
“Good morning, Commander Botrelle.” His voice was a bit harder than he would normally use when addressing this specific commander, but then again, this was a serious call. “I assume you got the alert, Ronin is within striking distance of the Citadel. I’m leaving first response in your capable hands, while I organize a strike team if necessary. Your clearance for personnel request,” he worked as he spoke, and his words became true just before he said them, “has been brought to the highest level. You have access to any gifts currently stationed in the area. Glory to Erubesco.”

That taken care of, the Viceroy deigned to take a look at the Knight who had made the call, then swore softly as he recognized the name from a rather harrowing report.
“Miss Fisher.” He patched himself through to her earpiece, speaking in a soft soothing voice. “Thank you for your alert, and Knights are on their way to deal with the threat. Your orders are not to engage. With the first group, someone will be along to escort you to back to the Citadel. I repeat, do not engage.” Nicola sent through a request for a teleporter to pop over and bring the young lady to medical bay. The notes on her file were clear, and Saffir Fisher was not yet cleared to fight.

Nicola was paying especial attention to things like that after the mess with Botrelle that he had returned home to.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Nicola Varren Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Nathan Chandler Character Portrait: Lindsey Nightingale Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff Character Portrait: Rick Ronin
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  1. Exciting! I can't wait! But I feel I must inform that Rick isn't actually in the Citadel. I talked to Echo before I made my first post and she thought it would be best if Rick showed up at a location that wasn't constantly guarded like the Citadel is.

    by darkshadowolf99
  2. For clarity, he is in a small unnamed town near the Citadel which is also mostly surrounded by the Ash Wasteland.

    by darkshadowolf99
  3. Well, Erubesco is a country. So if its nesr the Citadel, it's Erubescan. They do have roadways and the like between towns.

    by scoundrelboots
  4. I mean my post did say that the town was covered with Erubesco propaganda which is a clear sign that the town is aligned with Erubesco in some way shape or form. The point is that Rick isn't specially in the Citadel. I don't want people thinking that Rick was able to slip into one of the most heavily guarded Erubesco cities without even trying and without anyone noticing. That's all.

    by Anonymous
  5. Alright. This is clear (:

    by scoundrelboots
  6. by scoundrelboots
  7. I think it's important to clarify, as well, that the city wouldn't just be "aligned with" Erubesco. If it's in view of the Citadel, it's definitely within Erubescan borders.

    by scoundrelboots
  8. by scoundrelboots
  9. And also (sorry for all of the footnotes- I keep trying to press "enter" to make a paragraph, and not realizing the issue this causes). BUT the term "The CItadel" refers both to the Citadel base as well as the surrounding city. If Rick can see the Citadel castle, chances are the town he's in is a suburb of the city. Likely outside of the heavily guarded city proper, but definitely close enough that the mailing addresses could list "Citadel City."

    by scoundrelboots

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The Erubescan Command-on-call system was neither complex nor refined, but it got the job done: According to Citadel policy, any Knight Commander not otherwise engaged or officially off-duty had to have their earpiece tapped into the system, and a minimum of one Knight Commander had to be available to take such calls at any time, day or night. 

Commander Botrelle happened to be the one tasked with covering Thursday mornings. 



So, when her earpiece buzzed with the double beep signaling the start of an emergency broadcast, her surprise was muted to little more than a slight flinch. She passed in whatever condolence she had been offering Kora, halting conversation with one raised finger and a gesture toward the communication device. 


“Emergency,” she mouthed, fingers already flying across the surface of her tablet to pull up the video feeds before Nicola could so much as grant staffing permission. The former softness of the Commander’s face and voice were wiped away in an instant, replaced by calculating focus. Her lips pursed as she worked, gears turning in her mind as she took in the angles and details of the situation: 

Ronin was in the West District Library— a building with a twenty-five current occupants, three of whom were minors, seven of whom were library staff. One main entrance, two emergency exits, and no roof outlet. There was a cafe across the street, a modern art gallery to the building’s left, and several other smaller shops. 



The civilian population at risk was massive; at minimum, the library would need to be evacuated before anyone could proceed. 



Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth with impatient frustration for a moment, and then she pulled up the Citadel’s available troop listing. 

She began flicking names on the spreadsheet open to profiles, swiping those she wanted to use to the right in a column labeled with the date and an urgent tag. Two teleporters, one sniper by the name of Nathan Chandler, and a (somewhat hesitantly added) Serf Cadriel had already been compiled when Varren opened her clearances to the entire on-call Citadel force.

She began flicking more names to the right: Sniper Makorai Saika, tank Jack Rousimoff, and the dual-gifted Lindsey Nightingale.

“Thank you, sir,” she said to Varren, “Our team will be on the ground in fifteen minutes, max.”

Her nail hovered over one more name, and she glanced up at Kora. Her friend was battered, bruised, and potentially still bleeding under her bandages. 
Ready to be shipped to the front lines, if nobody came up for a better plan. 

“Get dressed in something decent,” she ordered, “Ronin’s in the city. If you can’t fight, you’re pardoned.” The name “Kora Norrevinter” flew into Lulu’s right column.



She tapped on the list, setting the selected troops into “Alert mode.” A series of beeps would sound on their ear intercoms.

This is Commander Botrelle,” she said, speaking into her radio as she shrugged off her suit jacket and strode toward Kora’s door. She set off down the hall at a jog. “If you are reading this message, you have been drafted as part of an immediate emergency response team. Terrorist Rick Ronin has been spotted in the West District. You are to rendezvous at the teleport bay in five minutes. Civilian attire. This is not optional.” 




Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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The force of Skip's embrace lifted the little experiment's feet clean off of the floor. She might have been rather uncomfortable by being seized in such a manner by most other people, but more than anything Caddie was overjoyed to see Skip, one of the only people she could unironically call her friend, back and safe. The smile on her face tugged at the stitches at the corner of her mouth, revealing some of her dreadful jagged teeth, but it wasn't much of a concern at the time.

Having dusted herself off a little and recovered her still-intact drink from the floor, she began listening to what had taken place.

With the experiment's revelation about a one certain knight commander, a number of things that had happened lately made far more sense. Though a number of other things made far less. Like the now troubling implication that Commander Botrelle had a soul and some sort of sense of decency. At least Caddie didn't need to feel quite so let down about helping her then. She'd always been feeling a little like her sense of empathy had rather ruined her opportunity for revenge. One time she had any measure of power over someone who'd made her life difficult, and she'd ended up offering first aid.

As far as what had happened... well Cadriel wished she could feel more surprised about the actions of the faction. Then again considering how she had been treated there weren't many things they could do to an experiment that would shock her. Even if it wasn't fair to do it to Skip, someone significantly less dissatisfied with things than she was. He wasn't a traitor, and if he had done something wrong it was more likely stemming from how they'd made him themselves. You couldn't create things a certain way and them blame them when it was flawed.

Still, he was back, and presumably no longer facing any kind of retribution. Things were looking up.
"Well I uh.. mopped a bunch of floors and occasionally got shouted at. Also I had to help out Commander Botrelle after Commander Avalon.... well she was hurt pretty bad and I don't know if she could've patched herself up so...I helped her get cleaned up. "

She decided to leave out the ''and then she attempted to kill me and then involved me in some kind of plot'' for the sake of expediency.

"And then this morning I was doing my usual stuff when one-eye-guy there told me I wasn't supposed to be there. But I was. Then I was going to take a break and get a drink....then I heard the wall being ripped open so..."

The large-sized knight had, by then, gotten to his feet and addressed the serf; with something she would regard as a bit of a disparaging comment. Even if she had been 'cute' she wasn't sure she liked being greeted like it...but looking like a marionette and a tub of medical waste had crashed into each other at high speed it wasn't hard to perceive such things as some kind of mockery. Sporting a lopsided frown Caddie was about to bring up the broken wall, and how fixing it wasn't part of her area of expertise, when her earpiece chirped suddenly into life. This was alarming as Cadriel could not remember the last time she'd been personally called up. Most of the time her interactions were rather a one on one basis...usually somebody shouting at her over a trivial matter. It had been an age since she'd gotten a call up.

The janitor fumbled with the device, stuffed into the bandages at the base of her neck, and clumsily pushed it into place. The large piece missing from her ear on that side made it sit a little awkwardly.

As Caddie listened, her grey eyes widened in alarm.

Emergency response team.
Civilian clothes.
Teleport bay.
Five minutes.

Trying to grip the intercom once again with her heavily bandaged hand, the little experiment spoke up in a small voice.
"Er...Commander...was I added to the list by accident? I....I'm not sure I was supposed to get this call..."



----


When Lulu suddenly broke off, Kora had been sat emptying about six sugar packets into her second cup of coffee, and morosely chewing on bacon and toast. She couldn't deny that she felt better for eating and drinking something sensible after days of not really taking care of herself. Still despite this, and despite her friend's assurances that she wasn't to blame, Kora could still feel the weight of accumulated shame rather heavily on her shoulders.

Regardless of the circumstances, people saw her as failure. An incompetent. She didn't want to be kept on in the Citadel out of pity. She was supposed to be an unstoppable warrior. The result of one hundred generations of breeding. It should not be this way. She had to prove it. Had to find some way to show people that she was no liability.

As if in answer to this silent request, Lulu spoke up.
All the knight needed to hear was 'Get dressed' and 'Ronin' and she was on her feet, narrowly avoiding covering half the room in coffee. As the commander departed to go and prepare, the redheaded erubescan tore through the remains of her clothes to look for some field gear that was both appropriate and moderately clean.

Civilian outfit, heat-resistor gloves in order to avoid her ability causing a great degree of collateral. No combat knife...seeing as she'd left Geri and Frecki behind. A long-sleeved hooded top top and a bit of adjusting hid most of the wounds and bandages from view. The gauze pad over her eye and cheekbone was still there... but at six and a half foot tall, with bright ginger hair and a distinct nordic accent it was not as if she was going to blend in either way.

From there, Kora was on her way to the teleport bay. That bastard again. Everything had started going wrong when she'd run across that ashrat brute. If this went well it was the perfect time for her to redeem herself in the eyes of the faction. If it didn't...well it would at least make her feel better to be against someone she had no complicated reservations about knocking out the teeth of.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Nathan Chandler Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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Lulu arrived in the teleport bay with Kora in tow just minutes after making the call, and was pleased to find that at least a portion of her requested team had managed to report: Chandler was in, as well as the two teleporters, Schmidt and Quirk, and (obviously) Norrevinter had all gathered in a timely fashion.

“No mistake, Cadriel,” she said into her earpiece, not nothing to mask her irritation at the time-wasting question, “You should be here.”

She glanced around those gathered, and the severity of her expression possibly added a good five inches to her height. “Knights,” she addressed them, and then turned to a blank wall. A flick across the clear glass of her tablet cast her screen against it, displaying a video feed of Ronin on one side, and an aerial map on the other. “Your prompt response is as appreciated as well as it is necessary— we face a crisis on our hands. You all represent— and I do mean you all, including those of you who have somehow managed to not yet drag yourselves in to be briefed as of yet, — a first line of defense for the people of the West District.”



A few more gestures of her lacquered nails directed the satellite image to zoom in, and a building plan of the library was superimposed over its image on the map. “This is where Ronin is located, currently,” she explained, motioning toward a blue dot on the plan, “on the first floor. There are two floors, and a considerable civilian populace at risk. The building has three emergency exits, highlighted in red, here… And two fire alarm pull stations, one on each floor.

“Norrevinter, you’re on the north exit. Cadriel will take the west; Rousimoff is on the South. Quirk will drop you off at a corner block away from Ronin’s view, here. I will also be dropped at this point.”

Lulu paused for a moment, circling the point with a winding motion of her finger and checking to see that Quirk understood.

When Quirk gave a nod, she proceeded.

“Schmidt, you will deposit Chandler and Saika, wherever the hell the latter is, though presumably it is on his way on two opposing roofs, here, and here. They are to load immobilizing rounds— non lethal. There’s no room for error with this many civvies around. If Ronin makes it out the door, you shoot him. And you don’t stop shooting until you are out of ammunition. I hope you read that, Saika.” 



She flicked back to the satellite camera, offering a clearer view of just how many people were around. Families crossed the street from one corner to another, and children played in a park a few blocks off. The stakes were obvious, and the margin for error was non-existent.



“When everyone is in place, I will enter the building, locate Ronin and send signal to Norrevinter. Norrevinter, you will light a smoke bomb and roll it through the door to trigger a fire alarm. With any luck, the smell of smoke will be enough to convince everyone it isn’t a drill, and make sure that Ronin doesn’t suspect he’s been caught.



“Meanwhile, I will do my best to create a decoy for Ronin while people evacuate. I won’t engage him with civilians present, if it can be avoided. If I should fail in this, it’s the job of everyone at the exits to push him back in should he try to flee, and alert everyone on their com lines to engage. If he tries to smash out a window, Chandler and Saika— shoot him.



“With any luck, though, I will be able to hold him in the building. When it is empty, snipers are to maintain their posts while the rest of out team convenes on my location to provide backup while I engage him. You are all to take any action necessary, including lethal force, to preserve civilian life and ensure Ronin is contained, in that order.” 



With the briefing complete, Commander Botrelle pivoted on her heel to face her assembled unit. 

“Are you all clear on the plan?” she asked, the steel in her voice obviously not looking for any answer other than “yes.”

Almost as an after though, she touched her earpiece, “Everyone else, do you read?”

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel
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They all said day drinking was a problem. A day drunk, Erubescian sniper was a liability, and that anything ANYTHING could happen. Anything, to Makorai, was the countless ring of endless problems that those much more responsible, and paranoid than he, worried about. Nothing really worried him, so Anything worrying him would be a bit redundant in his eyes. So Makorai, armed with the mental safety of Nothing against the Neurotic Anything had decided to start drinking at roughly nine'o'clock sharp. The first sip promised him a healthy buzz by Nine Thirty, and a comfortable drunk by quarter to eleven.

Makorai's usual eleven'o'cock spot was the canteen, he was much more an extrovert then introvert, and the joys and misery of daily life, in his opinion at least, was best spent with people you probably couldn't stand having a conversation with sober. Lately however, he had found himself in Cadriel's maintenance closet. Well, 'Found himself' probably wasn't as appropriate as 'Cadriel found him passed out on top of her cleaning supplies', but that first meeting had sparked a conversation that turned into what Makorai would consider a friendship.

So, from time to time he'd skip out on the canteen to express his disillusionment with their mutual employers, and listen to her woes with a drunken ear that was reserved for people he enjoyed. Unfortunately, it seemed the main ingredient in his mid morning cocktail, was missing, and something, or someone was holding Caddie up.

Makorai was not a completely even person sober, and much less so after having a few bumpers in his system. Their previous conversations had given him context to her daily routine, and he swore to the spirits around him if someone was spouting vitriol in her direction he'd give them the firmest part of his dissatisfaction.

"Yo!...." His face grew more contemplative, the first of the mass message had been sent to his communicator.

No way.

Fucking /Rick/

He laughed. There in the hallway, not the bitter laugh he laughed for his fallen comrades, and not the jovial laugh that expressed his happiness. He just laughed the the absurdity of what he was hearing. Rick. In the Citadel. What the fuck.

He was laughing as he fell into the wall and slid to the armoury, to promptly slide back out when he remembered he had been given clearance to store his weapon and it's attachments in his room.

Then he slid back when he realized that privileged had been revoked.

"Jeff."

The quartermasters name was not Jeff, or ever Jeff.

"Jeff..it's important. Commander /Botrelle/, yep, yep."

With a name that demanded respect, Jeff had no choice but to accept Jeff as his name, and wait for the moment he could wipe that smug look off of Makorai's face the next time he predictably lost pieces of his gear and came crawling back ten minutes before morning bugle.


He was assembling his rig with a level of affinity that transcended the mental state he was in. A dual mounted scope to brag about the peculiar, but efficient way his eyes processed stimuli. The bolt action didn't exist only to load larger caliber rounds in the chamber, but to signify that he only needed a single shot to accomplish what most did in a handful. It was a collar flair around the coat of skill he wore proudly with his swaggering walk.

"Loud and clear Commander."

He walked to the teleportation area, sniper in its case and threw up a hasty salute.

"Night Makorai reporting for duty."

Did he catch his slur? Sure a shit hoped so.

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Rick Ronan Character Portrait: Nathan Chandler Character Portrait: Lindsey Nightingale Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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As Commander Botrelle's briefing rang out in the teleportation bay and through the communicators of those absent, Lindsey's lithe figure was dashing down a hall. A string of curses was rapidly coming out of her mouth as she ran quickly to the bay. As she practically flew, she managed to avoid hitting people carrying paperwork or hot coffee. "I shouldn't be late! I am such an idiot!!" She thought angrily to herself as she reached the room. She hurried inside and quickly got into line with her comrades. "Yes, ma'am." She answered quickly, hearing her question.

~

Nathan looked to the door as Lindsey entered hastily. He held back a sigh and simply looked to the ceiling for a moment before nodding to Botrelle. "Yes ma'am." He responded calmly. His attention was since again redirected as Makorai entered the room. He watched the fellow sniper with narrowed eyes, catching his drunken slur. Hiding his disdain, he prayed that this wouldn't be a problem for their mission.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Nathan Chandler Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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Jack was standing there with the serfs when he heard a series of loud beeps in his ear. It startled him and jumped back, quickly covering his ears with his hands. This only made the sound louder as it echoed in his hands now. "Oh." Still jumpy, he realized it must of been from that ear piece he forgot about. He lowered his hands and laughed softly at his mistake. What could it be for? Was it for breaking the wall? Did they really know about it already? It wouldn't surprise Jack if someone higher up had seen the whole thing. He stood still and listened to what it could of been. This is Commander Botrelle, Uh oh. It very well could of been for breaking the wall. If you are reading this message, you have been drafted as part of an immediate emergency response team. Terrorist Rick Ronin has been spotted in the West District. You are to rendezvous at the teleport bay in five minutes. Civilian attire. This is not optional. It wasn't for the wall, but something much worse. A terrorist? Immediate emergency response team? Jack felt a sliver of pride. They wanted him? Someone wanted him to be with them? It also saddened him. It wasn't for the skills he favored, but for his more harmful ones. He would have to fight people, possibly kill. He didn't want to do that, but Erubesco, his home, was being attacked. Jack had a job to do, and civilians depending on him being there.

Civilian attire? Jack was good in that concern. Five minutes? That was more a problem. How would he get there quickly? And from where he was? Jack started to quickly walk to where he needed to be, but soon enough he heard another buzz over his ear piece about not being there still. Jack started to panic. Still startled by the initial beeps, and now being rushed, he became desperate. He didn't want to disappoint, or to let any civilian lives be in danger. He figured he had already broken one wall, so why not break another? Turning to the direction of the teleporter, he ran straight towards the wall, smashing into it with his shoulder. The same crashing sound heard not too earlier was now repeated, but louder than before. Instead of a small hole, it was a giant gash. After he broke through that wall, a second wall was soon in front of him. He punched his hand through and pulled part of it out, soon smashing through that wall as well. He kept running, pushing debris behind him as he kept running.

Bits and pieces of wood, drywall, and some split electrical wire were scattered on the ground. There he stood in front of the teleporter, ready to go. His hair ruffled, his clothes dusty. A trail of holes behind him. He stood with the others hoping not to be late. It never occurred to him that he might be doing more damage to Erubesco than he might prevent. "Everyone else, do you read?" Jack smiled. "Loud and clear."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Nathan Chandler Character Portrait: Lindsey Nightingale Character Portrait: Piper Kolert Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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Nightingale and Cadriel were late, which was quite enough to set Commander Botrelle’s nerves on end: Lives were on the line, and this operation needed to run like a well-oiled machine. A hint of irritation flashed across her features as both came in a minute or two behind the start of her briefing, but she took no further action to call them out or draw attention. Minor mistakes were expected.

And then Makorai Goddamn Saika had the nerve to be late and drunk.

Her lips folded in on themselves and her irises locked onto the ceiling to avoid looking at him.

This was not a time to let her temper get the best of her.

“Knight Saika, what, might I ask, are you-“

Crash.

A chunk of wall was demolished directly where the Commander had been projecting the map, the teleport bay’s security alarm blared to life, and a puff of sealant foam sprayed out from the wall’s broken points to close up the gap, spraying both the opening and the backside of the man who had smashed it with a pale yellow snowfall that expanded on contact. Rubble and dust were cast up into a cloud, and nearly all of the teleport bay workers turned to stare in silence.

Now, some Supervising Officers would have been fuming at this development, but “fuming” was not something that Botrelle was known to do.

She was known to tap a sharp-heeled stiletto, or drum her nearly manicured nails, or perhaps draw her rosy lips into a disappointed purse.

But she did none of these.

Her posture was rigid, and she did not so much as turn to look at Rousimoff’s graceless form. The rise and fall of her chest ceased, and she was frozen so stock still that, were it not for an incredulous blink, there were about five seconds in which it looked possible that she had literally died from disappointment at the team that had gathered.

She touched her earpiece. “Knight Kollert, I need a soldering job on the north wall of the teleport bay. Gather a prompt reconstruction team. Please.” A quick flick of her finger across her tablet surface shut down the screaming alarm.

Lulu was going to kill them.

If a vein did not burst in her brain from trying to comprehend the level of unbridled incompetency in the room, she was going to fucking kill them.

She took a slow, deliberate breath— The kind so deep that it strained against the buttons of her button-up blouse as she held it before letting it go into a sigh.

“Twenty-two thousand, four hundred, and thirty-eight,” she said softly, her tone devoid of compassion or fury. There was an edge in its quietness, the kind that seemed to lower the ambient volume of the room with its demand to be heard.

“That is the number of civilian lives immediately at risk in the West District. That many men, women, and children are depending on nine upstanding military troops of the Kingdom they have pledged their allegiance to to keep them alive. They are counting on nine punctual, sober troops ,who are capable of following basic orders without causing major structural damage to sensitive, secure areas for no justifiable reason.”

Her pale green glare was fixed on the back wall, staring directly between the torsos of Nightingale and Chandler without actually looking at either of them.

“If you are not capable of fulfilling these requirements, or understanding the weight of these stakes, you will excuse yourself immediately.”She paused, letting the silence linger in the area for a moment, and then nodded to Quirk.

“Put our snipers in position,” she ordered, and with a nod Quirk moved first to Chandler and then to Saika. “Nightingale, you’re with Cadriel at the West entrance. Schmidt, move everyone. And stand by near the drop point for the withdrawal operation.”

Schmidt gave an apprehensive nod and began working around the circle, vanishing each member of the team off to the corner, ending with Commander Botrelle.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Nathan Chandler Character Portrait: Lindsey Nightingale Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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Kora, for her part, simply stood with her arms folded, regarding this arrival rather skeptically, before looking over to Lulu in a manner that asked 'Is this really what you've chosen for a squad?'

"We've got a door you know." she remarked drily, somewhat pleased, considering her current situation, that she was looking the best out of all of them. She was on time, sober, and hadn't broken any Erubescan property...well not recently anyway. And nothing as extensive as breaking through walls.

And it wasn't by lack of capability.

Kora was only down by about a foot in height on the other knight, and she had long been quite famous (or infamous) for destructive capacity.

At least at this rate she was not in danger of any of the team making her look bad.

Her skepticism was only reinforced upon seeing the small figure of Serf Caddie stepped through the enormous gap in the wall, with a look of exasperated resignation on er face at the destruction.

Caddie had arrived in time to catch most of the Commander's lecture, and was almost certain she was not exactly in favour either.. but in all fairness it was hard to be prompt when you'd neither had any civilian clothes, nor had any real means to purchase them, for years. She didn't get out much. Well, she didn't get out at all. Generally speaking the height of Caddie's social life was talking with Saika whilst she tried to get to the drain cleaner he was lying on top of.

Her current outfit had been stolen rather hastily out of a cart of laundry, and some things left in a locker room by the teleport bay, so consisted of a slightly faded mauve sun dress, a hoodie at least two sizes too large for her tiny frame, and a pair of sneakers.
The lack of uniform didn't seem to diminish the strangeness of her appearance. If anything it worked completely the other way with more grubby bandages left on show.

But it was the best she could do in a hurry.
Plus it was not like she really cared that much for Lulu's approval.
She wasn't even sure why she was here.
Why send a janitor to do a Knight's job?
Still, if her work told her anything it was not to bother asking why.
Hopefully she could just get this over with and not end up vapourized.

The setting changes from the-citadel to The Wasteland

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Nathan Chandler Character Portrait: Makorai Saika Character Portrait: Cadriel Character Portrait: Jack Rousimoff
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Makorai Saika's belief in the divine was a convenient thing. Spirits inhabiting the bits and pieces of mortal life. It was a belief system void of restraint and greater moral struggles. It required little to no effort on his part, and also allowed him to humanize any inanimate object to the point on conversation when he was six cups over the legal limit. That being said, the convenient appearance of Jack, highlighting as what he was supposed to find atop the beanstalk, stole Commander Botrelle's attention like the marginally hotter guy at the bar.

Makorai nodded in Jack's direction. Thankful he was alive. Thankful he was a gifted being with such an immense drive to cause unneeded destruction that no one had time to check on the blood alcohol level coursing through his veins was Jack was on the move. 'Keep doing you man'. Makorai nodded encouragingly. Keep doing you man, keep doing you. This small bit of amusement now done, he took a moment to cast a sniper's eye to the motley crew assembled to safeguard ten thousand plus civilians in the face of this Wanderer epidemic. He expected Kora. If she hadn't been called officially he'd in the least expect her here arguing with the Knight Commander about going, all anger and swirls of red hair a second from becoming angry and sentient themselves. Cadriel was..a surprise, so much so that the genuine look of concern that inevitably formed on his face took a few beats to resettle into the RDF he wore so casually.

Next was Linsday, which sort of went without saying for him. Nathan however, bothered him for a multitude of reasons that he wasn't about to go over whilst he was in the middle of emptying his mind of all the background noise. Which, in itself wasn't a terribly impressive feat considering Saika usually didn't have much going on up there anyhow.

"Something heartwarming, something sarc-"

Teleportation took him and the, "astic" to his assigned building. It was athletically pleasing, and like most buildings in the city, took its cues from the old world artisans who's masonry had withstood the test of time long enough to be replicated in their modern era.

For Makorai, this meant he had cover, and a multitude of positions that left him largely invisible to the naked eye. Currently, he was sat behind a particularly skyward arch, attaching the three foot plus long barrel to a consol that switched between anti-personnel, and anti-material on the fly. Gravity stabilizers locked the mechanisms in place, and a series of scope glasses, akin to the pre war mechanisms used for judging ones eye strength, appeared in front of the scope.

Their application ranges from locating electromagnetic disturbances to thermal hear, even the absence of heat. A second scope, fitted with the same enhancements as the first was slid into its docking port.

It was a personal request, one that was useless on most sniper rigs, and probably more at home in a virtual game then a snatch and grab operation. Most was the key word here. Makorai wasn't 'most' snipers, and his ability to use both his right and left as master eyes, independent of the others, made this fantasy rig deadly in his hands.

More deadly then his companion sniper perhaps, has he'd strapped a series of lethal rounds to his inner thigh.

Dangerous thing to be shooting live rounds into a crowd, but in his mind? He was a bit separate from the rest.

Not cocky.

Confident.

"Arguably handsome reporting in, over."

The setting changes from the-wasteland to The Citadel

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lulu Botrelle Character Portrait: Skip III Character Portrait: Edgar Gormly Character Portrait: Piper Kolert
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Piper had no time to be confused by her lunch companion’s hasty exit, because she heard Commander Botrelle’s voice in her ear. “On it, Commander,” she said, one hand already starting the wheels of her chair away from the table and the other manipulating her tablet to contact the appropriate channels. The closest custodians and technicians pinged on the smooth interface.

“Chase Black, Edgar Gormly, Krystal Saturns, and Patricia Collin,” she said, practicing her best official-yet-cheerful-yet-no-nonsese voice, feeling very pleased and very official with her new rank to be organizing other people instead of being ordered, “please report to the teleport bay immediately. Gormly, bring soldering equipment and the Cabinet 3 reconstruction materials from the supply closet on your way. Thank you.”

She herself glided straight to the lift, and then to the site of the busted wall. She didn’t need any soldering equipment, herself. She was soldering equipment.
She could do this sort of thing. Battles and losing Knights on her watch, she wasn’t sure she was cut out for that. But emergency technical work? Cake.
Because she'd go real far in life on emergency tech work.
Yeah.
That'd make 'em all so proud and jealous.
Ugh.

---

Something was going on. There was some kind of emergency, probably. Everyone seemed to be involved. The tall guy went literally crashing away, and even Caddie received a summons. Even the other janitor's earpiece lit up. Skip waited for the a call in his ear that his help was needed, too.

He waited until he found himself alone, just standing. Just breathing in the corridor.

Skip was on probation.

Nobody needed him.