Introduction
NOTE TO ALL MEMBERS OF THE ROLEPLAY:
Please check all OOC boards for notes about the ball, the factions, and so on. Thank you!
This war hasn’t been the first involving Gifted- the superpowered, the blessed, the cursed- as a species, as active participants using their powers for bloodshed.
Throughout history, there have been traces of humans talented with special abilities, capable of feats unachievable by the average man or woman. Prophets, creatures of lore, those blessed with incredible luck, or who could read people completely, or those regarded as magicians...Of course, many were unaware of these abilities, and those who did were either regarded as gods, or kept their secrets under lock and key in fear of the consequences. It was only recently- several hundred years ago- that they began to appear more frequently, with more intense powers, more obviously “special”.
The Gifted.
As with anything unique, tensions rose, with humans declaring the Gifted dangerous. Their children could easily be harmed by one with super strength, and robberies could become even more life-threatening when performed by a pyrotechnic. War soon broke out, the recorded beginning dating to around a century ago. However, this story is not about then.
Humans, those who were unfortunate enough not to have such powers, not only lost; they were wiped off the face of the earth, with only tiny pockets remaining. In the chaos and anarchy that followed at the lack of any real stable civilization, two factions emerged.
Erubesco, the faction of culture, monarchy, grace, and science.
Liberty, the faction of order, efficiency, unity, and progress
Given the clash of their ideologies, lifestyles, and many other factors, it did not take long before both declared war on one another. They scrambled to collect land, stronger Gifted to fight under their command, and to gain an upper hand when both were equal in strength. Both groups even found themselves relying on tampering with genetic code, hoping to unlock something which would strengthen their own side. The war has currently been raging for eight years in total, in which many lives have been lost, and many atrocities committed.
Much like the fairy tales which parents tell to their children at storytime, Erubesco is based around a concept of nobility, kings and queens, and an idealized view of “good” and “evil”. Towns cluster around grand castle bases, soldiers are dubbed as the “knights in shining armor” for the weak and defenseless, and many civilians go about their life with art and song heavily involved in their schedules. At face value, it appears like a beautiful utopia of prosperity and life.
However, the truth is far darker, as one might expect. Not only are the general issues that tend to come with a monarchy present- inequality, a very unlikely chance of ascending to another role, etc.- but civilian experimentation is very much the norm. While the entire process tends to be kept rather hushed, what occurs beneath the beautiful tiling of the castle floors is very real, and very active. While the glitz and glamor of movie stars and storybook towns may be appealing to many, it is a thin veil to what Erubesco truly stands for underneath it all. The ranks are as follows:
King
Viceroy/Lord/Lady
Grand Chancellor
Chancellor
Knight Commander
Alchemist
Knight/Acolyte
Infantry
Conscript
Serf
The first impression which tends to fall upon the viewer of any Liberty city is a certain...blandness. Nigh-identical buildings and streets, all made up of a monochrome color. A majority of the population reside in their own apartments, and a lack of real vibrancy. However, Liberty’s morals are the main reason so many are drawn; preaching fair rights for all, scorning the pointless harm of her populace, and pushing the belief that, with enough hard work and care, even the weakest can grow into a potential Councillor.
Of course, while Liberty preaches patience towards its people, caring for them and providing for the needs of the loyal, they also push for extreme devotion. The rebellious are carefully groomed into fiercely loyal citizens, and the unity which is so focused upon can have the unfortunate side effect of damaging individuality. The ranking system is a fair deal more complicated when compared to that of Erubesco’s, but retains somewhat of a pattern. There are several sectors of Liberty, with each having seven ranks or less; ranging from the lowly Trainee, to the grand Councillor. Each sector is headed by a Councillor, which work with the Founder- and Leader- on near equal terms to make decisions for Liberty.
The sectors are as follows:
Espionage
Loyalty Affirmation
Interrogation
Economics
Defense
Genetics
Healing
Training
Education
Infrastructure
Agriculture
As there are are many different offshoots of these sectors, as well, and would take far too long to go through as is, it shall not be placed on this page. Instead, feel free to message the GMs if you want specifics on the rankings.
Of course, what with the fact that quite a number of the Gifted population disagree with the beliefs of the current superpowers, many splinter groups have formed. None have been unable to reach the strength that the factions possess, but manage to survive in the harsh wastelands nonetheless. Ranging from tribes, to mercenaries, to rag-tag bundles, it is common for these small communities to often be at each other’s throats.
While the term “wanderer” itself applies to any group or individual roaming the wastelands that is not a Mercenary or Faction goer, there are currently only three groups that are being followed at the moment. They are known as the Wanderers, the Striders, and the Bunker goers, with the Wanderers group being the largest in number, and the Striders being the smallest. They do not have any real reputation among the wastelands, as all are quite tiny when compared to others, and the wastes are quite expansive. Each have their own goals as of the moment, with a main one being shared among them; survival.
While mercenaries tend to work under the factions, doing the dirty work that their bosses can’t spare the resources to do, that does not stop them from forming clusters of sorts to make jobs easier. There is only one current mercenary group that is being followed, however, although there are quite a few who work alone or work in other gatherings of sorts.
Please check all OOC boards for notes about the ball, the factions, and so on. Thank you!
This war hasn’t been the first involving Gifted- the superpowered, the blessed, the cursed- as a species, as active participants using their powers for bloodshed.
Throughout history, there have been traces of humans talented with special abilities, capable of feats unachievable by the average man or woman. Prophets, creatures of lore, those blessed with incredible luck, or who could read people completely, or those regarded as magicians...Of course, many were unaware of these abilities, and those who did were either regarded as gods, or kept their secrets under lock and key in fear of the consequences. It was only recently- several hundred years ago- that they began to appear more frequently, with more intense powers, more obviously “special”.
The Gifted.
As with anything unique, tensions rose, with humans declaring the Gifted dangerous. Their children could easily be harmed by one with super strength, and robberies could become even more life-threatening when performed by a pyrotechnic. War soon broke out, the recorded beginning dating to around a century ago. However, this story is not about then.
Humans, those who were unfortunate enough not to have such powers, not only lost; they were wiped off the face of the earth, with only tiny pockets remaining. In the chaos and anarchy that followed at the lack of any real stable civilization, two factions emerged.
Erubesco, the faction of culture, monarchy, grace, and science.
Liberty, the faction of order, efficiency, unity, and progress
Given the clash of their ideologies, lifestyles, and many other factors, it did not take long before both declared war on one another. They scrambled to collect land, stronger Gifted to fight under their command, and to gain an upper hand when both were equal in strength. Both groups even found themselves relying on tampering with genetic code, hoping to unlock something which would strengthen their own side. The war has currently been raging for eight years in total, in which many lives have been lost, and many atrocities committed.
Much like the fairy tales which parents tell to their children at storytime, Erubesco is based around a concept of nobility, kings and queens, and an idealized view of “good” and “evil”. Towns cluster around grand castle bases, soldiers are dubbed as the “knights in shining armor” for the weak and defenseless, and many civilians go about their life with art and song heavily involved in their schedules. At face value, it appears like a beautiful utopia of prosperity and life.
However, the truth is far darker, as one might expect. Not only are the general issues that tend to come with a monarchy present- inequality, a very unlikely chance of ascending to another role, etc.- but civilian experimentation is very much the norm. While the entire process tends to be kept rather hushed, what occurs beneath the beautiful tiling of the castle floors is very real, and very active. While the glitz and glamor of movie stars and storybook towns may be appealing to many, it is a thin veil to what Erubesco truly stands for underneath it all. The ranks are as follows:
King
Viceroy/Lord/Lady
Grand Chancellor
Chancellor
Knight Commander
Alchemist
Knight/Acolyte
Infantry
Conscript
Serf
The first impression which tends to fall upon the viewer of any Liberty city is a certain...blandness. Nigh-identical buildings and streets, all made up of a monochrome color. A majority of the population reside in their own apartments, and a lack of real vibrancy. However, Liberty’s morals are the main reason so many are drawn; preaching fair rights for all, scorning the pointless harm of her populace, and pushing the belief that, with enough hard work and care, even the weakest can grow into a potential Councillor.
Of course, while Liberty preaches patience towards its people, caring for them and providing for the needs of the loyal, they also push for extreme devotion. The rebellious are carefully groomed into fiercely loyal citizens, and the unity which is so focused upon can have the unfortunate side effect of damaging individuality. The ranking system is a fair deal more complicated when compared to that of Erubesco’s, but retains somewhat of a pattern. There are several sectors of Liberty, with each having seven ranks or less; ranging from the lowly Trainee, to the grand Councillor. Each sector is headed by a Councillor, which work with the Founder- and Leader- on near equal terms to make decisions for Liberty.
The sectors are as follows:
Espionage
Loyalty Affirmation
Interrogation
Economics
Defense
Genetics
Healing
Training
Education
Infrastructure
Agriculture
As there are are many different offshoots of these sectors, as well, and would take far too long to go through as is, it shall not be placed on this page. Instead, feel free to message the GMs if you want specifics on the rankings.
Of course, what with the fact that quite a number of the Gifted population disagree with the beliefs of the current superpowers, many splinter groups have formed. None have been unable to reach the strength that the factions possess, but manage to survive in the harsh wastelands nonetheless. Ranging from tribes, to mercenaries, to rag-tag bundles, it is common for these small communities to often be at each other’s throats.
While the term “wanderer” itself applies to any group or individual roaming the wastelands that is not a Mercenary or Faction goer, there are currently only three groups that are being followed at the moment. They are known as the Wanderers, the Striders, and the Bunker goers, with the Wanderers group being the largest in number, and the Striders being the smallest. They do not have any real reputation among the wastelands, as all are quite tiny when compared to others, and the wastes are quite expansive. Each have their own goals as of the moment, with a main one being shared among them; survival.
While mercenaries tend to work under the factions, doing the dirty work that their bosses can’t spare the resources to do, that does not stop them from forming clusters of sorts to make jobs easier. There is only one current mercenary group that is being followed, however, although there are quite a few who work alone or work in other gatherings of sorts.
- Code: Select all
[center][img](Image URL goes here.)[/img] (An image isn't needed, but feel free to add one if you want one in. Otherwise, you can delete this bit.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Full Name:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Nicknames/Aliases:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Age:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Gender:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Gift:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Loyalty: (if Erubescian or Liberty, please add their position if you can)[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b] Description:[/b][/size][/color] (What do they look like? Even if you've got a picture, a bit of writing would be nice.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Personality:[/b][/size][/color] (A brief outline of their demeanour.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Skills:[/b][/size][/color]
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Weaknesses:[/b][/size][/color] (Achilles' Heels that can be exploited by enemies.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Brief History:[/b][/size][/color] (Any notable events in their background that might have shaped them. If you don't want to reveal too much, that's fine.)
[color=#000000][size=100][b]Other:[/b][/size][/color] [/center] (Anything else you think everyone needs to know about your character.)
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The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 16 authors
Colt watched the trainee recover back from the shove, making note that the boy had managed to roll instead of falling. He was adapting quickly to the pace of training, and without the need to spoon fed.
Teachability: 4.9 [High]
The impact of the boy’s brief punishment was clear from his body language, and Colt was careful to monitor the precision with which Samon handled the second attempt. The shaking would have to go if the boy wanted to succeed in any governmental position, as well as his racing adrenal response. He did manage to complete the task correctly, however, which was better than some had.
Ability to work under pressure: 2.8 [Needs Improvement]
He snatched the gun from Samon’s hand and weighed it in his palm. “Fixing heartbeat, Cauldier,” he said, and whatever previous emotion had carried through in the trainer’s tone made no further appearance, “Is making for poor shot.” Then, he handed the weapon back to Samon and moved his hand to keep the barrel pointed down into the mat.
“I am assuming you have been shooting before?” he asked, and crossed the room to where a rack of equipment was mounted on the wall. He took down an armored vest, which he strapped around his own torso and clipped in the back, and a bag that looked to be filled with something considerably heavy. All the while, his gaze was halfway on Samon and the gun, ready but not tensed in case the trainee was less than versed in basic weapons safety. “Or was your teacher not thinking that blind man was needing to shoot?”
Teachability: 4.9 [High]
The impact of the boy’s brief punishment was clear from his body language, and Colt was careful to monitor the precision with which Samon handled the second attempt. The shaking would have to go if the boy wanted to succeed in any governmental position, as well as his racing adrenal response. He did manage to complete the task correctly, however, which was better than some had.
Ability to work under pressure: 2.8 [Needs Improvement]
He snatched the gun from Samon’s hand and weighed it in his palm. “Fixing heartbeat, Cauldier,” he said, and whatever previous emotion had carried through in the trainer’s tone made no further appearance, “Is making for poor shot.” Then, he handed the weapon back to Samon and moved his hand to keep the barrel pointed down into the mat.
“I am assuming you have been shooting before?” he asked, and crossed the room to where a rack of equipment was mounted on the wall. He took down an armored vest, which he strapped around his own torso and clipped in the back, and a bag that looked to be filled with something considerably heavy. All the while, his gaze was halfway on Samon and the gun, ready but not tensed in case the trainee was less than versed in basic weapons safety. “Or was your teacher not thinking that blind man was needing to shoot?”
The setting changes from Liberty Base Alpha A to Helton
“What in the name—“ Mina exclaimed, taking a jumping step in toward the stove and reaching for the weapon on her hip as something small and quick darted past her periphery. Her head whipped around assess the threat in a wild shake of hair (which likely grazed Clockwork’s face with a puff of black curls), but the alarm soon proved pointless. Mina’s hand relaxed away from her gun and resumed its place behind her tiny sous-chef, and broad smile spread across her face.
She let out a low whistle, and then cast a glance to Toby. If he was not alarmed, it was safe to say that the cat was simply a cat, and not some kind of shifter. “Well, doesn’t that just take the cake?” she crooned, watching the scrawny little creature sniffing about the back corner.
She had just been about to reach across the counter for an apple scrap when Toby got the “half-there-but-only-barely” look that could only indicate something new happening. His words only served to confirm this, and scrunched Mina’s face into a worried frown. “Ashrat’s’re the least of our worries, given circumstance,” she muttered, picking up the term that had once been a staple of her mess-hall vocabulary without hesitation or salt. “‘Specially with the interest’s been taken in Miss Helena.”
She caught Clockwork’s hand mid-stir and muttered a half-minded, “That’s fine, sugar,” as she took the spoon away and settled a lid over the oatmeal. “I’d say that Mr. Soren and Miss Clockwork here, well as maybe Spire and Montana, if we know where they’re at, should go keep Miss Helena company for a short bit while the lot of us go and um…” She caught herself from saying “handle the situation,” as she turned the stove off, settling for, “Greet our company?” after a brief pause.
“Myself, Toby, Miss Dawn, Miss Kayla, and whoever else is there already should be plenty, and I think it’s best if the rest of the lot hangs back with the precious cargo. And I'd say it'll be good to wake up anyone who's not stirred yet. Maybe have Allen go be sure that Miss Reith's looked after, if she's still down?”
She let out a low whistle, and then cast a glance to Toby. If he was not alarmed, it was safe to say that the cat was simply a cat, and not some kind of shifter. “Well, doesn’t that just take the cake?” she crooned, watching the scrawny little creature sniffing about the back corner.
She had just been about to reach across the counter for an apple scrap when Toby got the “half-there-but-only-barely” look that could only indicate something new happening. His words only served to confirm this, and scrunched Mina’s face into a worried frown. “Ashrat’s’re the least of our worries, given circumstance,” she muttered, picking up the term that had once been a staple of her mess-hall vocabulary without hesitation or salt. “‘Specially with the interest’s been taken in Miss Helena.”
She caught Clockwork’s hand mid-stir and muttered a half-minded, “That’s fine, sugar,” as she took the spoon away and settled a lid over the oatmeal. “I’d say that Mr. Soren and Miss Clockwork here, well as maybe Spire and Montana, if we know where they’re at, should go keep Miss Helena company for a short bit while the lot of us go and um…” She caught herself from saying “handle the situation,” as she turned the stove off, settling for, “Greet our company?” after a brief pause.
“Myself, Toby, Miss Dawn, Miss Kayla, and whoever else is there already should be plenty, and I think it’s best if the rest of the lot hangs back with the precious cargo. And I'd say it'll be good to wake up anyone who's not stirred yet. Maybe have Allen go be sure that Miss Reith's looked after, if she's still down?”
The setting changes from Helton to Liberty Base Alpha A
Ah, dammit...
Samon had dreaded for this moment to come: the moment when he'd finally have to shoot a gun. Sure, he'd been taught the basics. Everyone had. How to put a gun together, how to take it apart, how to hold it to where you didn't accidentally shoot and kill someone. But somehow, someway, Sillo had gone fourteen years without ever having to fire a gun. And it was because he'd proven himself to his teachers, to his parents, and to any official that he didn't need one. He was proud of that.
But now, this might be where all of that ended. Samon looked down at his hand which held the gun. He could see his hand gripping something and he could imagine the basic layout of the gun in his head, but he could see it. He could aim down the sights that weren't there. He couldn't see the bullseye that was set in front of him. It was his weakness and a big one at that. He kept the gun pointed towards the ground as he looked over at Colt, his face straight as he spoke.
"I've never fired a gun, no," Samon told him, "I've never had the need to." He didn't come straight forward with it and say he couldn't see the gun, the target, nor where he was aiming. He wouldn't get any sympathy for it. Nor did he want any. Instead, he said, "But I'd be more than willing to learn how."
Of course, that was a whole other can of worms. How does one teach a blind boy to shoot?
Samon had dreaded for this moment to come: the moment when he'd finally have to shoot a gun. Sure, he'd been taught the basics. Everyone had. How to put a gun together, how to take it apart, how to hold it to where you didn't accidentally shoot and kill someone. But somehow, someway, Sillo had gone fourteen years without ever having to fire a gun. And it was because he'd proven himself to his teachers, to his parents, and to any official that he didn't need one. He was proud of that.
But now, this might be where all of that ended. Samon looked down at his hand which held the gun. He could see his hand gripping something and he could imagine the basic layout of the gun in his head, but he could see it. He could aim down the sights that weren't there. He couldn't see the bullseye that was set in front of him. It was his weakness and a big one at that. He kept the gun pointed towards the ground as he looked over at Colt, his face straight as he spoke.
"I've never fired a gun, no," Samon told him, "I've never had the need to." He didn't come straight forward with it and say he couldn't see the gun, the target, nor where he was aiming. He wouldn't get any sympathy for it. Nor did he want any. Instead, he said, "But I'd be more than willing to learn how."
Of course, that was a whole other can of worms. How does one teach a blind boy to shoot?
The setting changes from Liberty Base Alpha A to Helton
It had been with her own soft “Good morning” that Dawn had followed Toby into the kitchen, hands dug deep into her pockets, winding a loosened string around and around her finger as she nodded towards those already gathered. The gentle, pleasant smell of whatever breakfast the de facto chefs were making had already filled the room, and she took in deep lungfuls of the stuff as she entered.
“Smells great,” she said, offering up her own, little smile towards the few who appeared to have taken up the roles of chef this time around. Her interest didn’t linger on the topic of breakfast for long, however- Toby’s announcement did well to draw attention.
Another one?
Almost reflexively, Dawn threw out her own reach, stretching the tendrils of her Gift to the very boundaries of Helton, where, just as her fellow sensor had said, she found both Gale and...whoever had decided to wander into their little homestead so early in the morning. She did her best not to delve deeper into the former’s mind than necessary, simply dabbling briefly before rerouting her power to the stranger. After all, even in the best of times-
(the fun thing about those stories is that they teach morals)
(like fairy tales isnt it interesting)
(nice day for a walk)
(smells like copper but not copper not really)
(alouttealouttealouttealoutte)
-it typically wasn’t the most pleasant place to linger in.
Dawn remained discreet about her probing of the regenerator’s mind- gently sweeping the surface of his thoughts, picking ever-so-carefully around his intentions, but hardly going any further than that. While the chances of the stranger being another member of a faction was just as considerable as it had been before, there was still the possibility of the person being just another traveler. It was better to be careful, she thought, than risk setting off an uninvolved party with the happy realization that you were no longer alone in your own head.
The term “ashrat” slipped easily beneath the manipulator’s nose as she wrapped up her little examination, surfacing to reality in order to relay her own news to her companions. “He doesn’t seem like someone from the factions,” she began, “but I still wouldn’t put anything on it. He’s...like Montana.” An explanation in itself, given the nature of the man’s existence- and an unconscious echoing of a certain speedster speaking on his own findings. Dawn paused for a moment, Gift fanning back outwards again, before continuing. “Sera and Talin are out there, too, but I think Mina has a good idea about some of us going out there to meet...whoever-it-is.”
And help control the situation if we need to.
The words were unspoken, but still there.
“Smells great,” she said, offering up her own, little smile towards the few who appeared to have taken up the roles of chef this time around. Her interest didn’t linger on the topic of breakfast for long, however- Toby’s announcement did well to draw attention.
Another one?
Almost reflexively, Dawn threw out her own reach, stretching the tendrils of her Gift to the very boundaries of Helton, where, just as her fellow sensor had said, she found both Gale and...whoever had decided to wander into their little homestead so early in the morning. She did her best not to delve deeper into the former’s mind than necessary, simply dabbling briefly before rerouting her power to the stranger. After all, even in the best of times-
(the fun thing about those stories is that they teach morals)
(like fairy tales isnt it interesting)
(nice day for a walk)
(smells like copper but not copper not really)
(alouttealouttealouttealoutte)
-it typically wasn’t the most pleasant place to linger in.
Dawn remained discreet about her probing of the regenerator’s mind- gently sweeping the surface of his thoughts, picking ever-so-carefully around his intentions, but hardly going any further than that. While the chances of the stranger being another member of a faction was just as considerable as it had been before, there was still the possibility of the person being just another traveler. It was better to be careful, she thought, than risk setting off an uninvolved party with the happy realization that you were no longer alone in your own head.
The term “ashrat” slipped easily beneath the manipulator’s nose as she wrapped up her little examination, surfacing to reality in order to relay her own news to her companions. “He doesn’t seem like someone from the factions,” she began, “but I still wouldn’t put anything on it. He’s...like Montana.” An explanation in itself, given the nature of the man’s existence- and an unconscious echoing of a certain speedster speaking on his own findings. Dawn paused for a moment, Gift fanning back outwards again, before continuing. “Sera and Talin are out there, too, but I think Mina has a good idea about some of us going out there to meet...whoever-it-is.”
And help control the situation if we need to.
The words were unspoken, but still there.
The setting changes from Helton to The Wasteland
The boy’s reaction had been, admittedly, against Gale’s expectations. The blond had already gathered that the “child” wasn’t your run-of-the-mill little darling- the boy would have been long dead by now, if that was the case, especially given the fact that there was no guardian in sight. Besides...while the younger Schipper had gone out of his way to hide away as many corpses as possible, that didn’t change the fact that Helton remained the same forsaken place it had always had.
Not exactly “playground material” at it’s finest.
Nevertheless, Gale remained just as he had been- lips a fine, bloodless slit, gaze glossy and distant. His fingers had clenched even tighter to the granite in front of them, as if the stone served as a security blanket instead of just dirtied rubble. “I just told you,” he whispered, voice harsh. He paused for a moment, throwing a hasty glance over his shoulder, before turning back with a visible “hysteria”. “They’re in there. In the city. They kill kids for fun- and- and they eat them, too! They’ll skin you alive!”
And then, the rubble shifted behind him. The blond once again took a panicked look over in the direction of the road at the sound- although, this time, instead of fear upon catching sight of the arrivals, he...changed. It was not a physical transformation by any means- Gale still remained the same light haired, dark-eyed boy as before- but something else entirely. As he slid down from his perch on the wall, the earlier paranoia and stress seemed to melt from his face, and the tension in his shoulders drained away just as easily.
He smiled, sugary sweet, and trotted from behind his hiding spot and into open view.
“Hello, Mr. Talin, Ms. Sera. It’s good to see you both.” He greeted the ex-Liberty pair with the grace of a young gentleman, even going so far as to bob his head in salute. As his head lifted up, Gale reached into his pocket, pulled out a single cherry lollipop, and, swiveling on his heel, spoke once more to the stranger. “Oh- and my name is Gale, by the way. A pleasure..”
His smile widened even further- genuine in appearance- but he did not extend his hand for a shake.
Not exactly “playground material” at it’s finest.
Nevertheless, Gale remained just as he had been- lips a fine, bloodless slit, gaze glossy and distant. His fingers had clenched even tighter to the granite in front of them, as if the stone served as a security blanket instead of just dirtied rubble. “I just told you,” he whispered, voice harsh. He paused for a moment, throwing a hasty glance over his shoulder, before turning back with a visible “hysteria”. “They’re in there. In the city. They kill kids for fun- and- and they eat them, too! They’ll skin you alive!”
And then, the rubble shifted behind him. The blond once again took a panicked look over in the direction of the road at the sound- although, this time, instead of fear upon catching sight of the arrivals, he...changed. It was not a physical transformation by any means- Gale still remained the same light haired, dark-eyed boy as before- but something else entirely. As he slid down from his perch on the wall, the earlier paranoia and stress seemed to melt from his face, and the tension in his shoulders drained away just as easily.
He smiled, sugary sweet, and trotted from behind his hiding spot and into open view.
“Hello, Mr. Talin, Ms. Sera. It’s good to see you both.” He greeted the ex-Liberty pair with the grace of a young gentleman, even going so far as to bob his head in salute. As his head lifted up, Gale reached into his pocket, pulled out a single cherry lollipop, and, swiveling on his heel, spoke once more to the stranger. “Oh- and my name is Gale, by the way. A pleasure..”
His smile widened even further- genuine in appearance- but he did not extend his hand for a shake.
The setting changes from The Wasteland to Helton
Move on soon? Toby was always a bit unsettled when the others spoke of moving on from Helton. In his eyes, the factions could find them no matter what rock they crawled under, and he thought at least this was defensible. Still, it wasn't a battle he wanted to pick, and one place was probably as good as another.
Anyway, they had the more pressing issue of their visitor to think of.
At Mina's suggestion, Toby nodded. "Sera and Talin and Gale--probably wouldn't mind the--extra--the extra c--company. You know. Just in case," he said. Well. Gale might mind if he had been planning to wring their visitor's neck like he did to members of the local avian population. He pulled out his handguns one at a time and checked the clips.
There was still something strange about walking out to meet a strange Gifted hoping not to have to shoot anybody.
"Shall we?" he said, holstering and stepping back out into the hallway.
He decided he'd leave the problem of the cat to those who would staying. He'd happily shirk that responsibility.
---
Spire stuck out his hand to guide Hel along as they started toward the dining hall. At first, interacting with her had been persistently awkward and ridiculously far out of Spire's comfort zone, but he was a quick study. The rhythm was easy as breathing now. His gaze was alert--he was wary after the speedster nearly snatched Hel away under their noses--but not unhappy. He didn't try to make unnecessary conversation. No need. He had nothing important to say, and Hel didn't usually like to talk, which was alright, since Spire only really enjoyed smalltalk if it was to cut somebody with the edge of his sarcasm or threaten to cut them with something a little more tangible.
Separately, Spire and Helena were rather troubling, unsettling individuals in their own rights, and it was difficult to say whether the picture of them together changed the impression to something rather sweet or just multiplied the disturbingness. Possibly a bit of both.
They met the cluster of Wanderers at the door, and Spire perceived the note of tension on the faces.
"What's the fluster this time?" Spire asked Toby in a drawl. "Too much to hope Dutch lit up by the fuel tank of one of those cars he's been tinkering with and blew himself to hell?"
"Visitor," Toby replied, wishing he wouldn't say inflammatory things about Dutch--or anyone else, for that matter--around Hel. At the end of the day, the younger Schippers brother just wanted everyone to get along. "Probably nobody. You can stay here with Hel."
"Put a few between the freak's eyes if something's off. Don't wait for somebody to get killed," Spire said calmly. His mouth turned up in a half smile. "Because let's be honest. Given historic evidence, it'd probably be you."
Thank goodness for Clockwork.
Not that Spire was gonna say that aloud more often than he had to.
Anyway, they had the more pressing issue of their visitor to think of.
At Mina's suggestion, Toby nodded. "Sera and Talin and Gale--probably wouldn't mind the--extra--the extra c--company. You know. Just in case," he said. Well. Gale might mind if he had been planning to wring their visitor's neck like he did to members of the local avian population. He pulled out his handguns one at a time and checked the clips.
There was still something strange about walking out to meet a strange Gifted hoping not to have to shoot anybody.
"Shall we?" he said, holstering and stepping back out into the hallway.
He decided he'd leave the problem of the cat to those who would staying. He'd happily shirk that responsibility.
---
Spire stuck out his hand to guide Hel along as they started toward the dining hall. At first, interacting with her had been persistently awkward and ridiculously far out of Spire's comfort zone, but he was a quick study. The rhythm was easy as breathing now. His gaze was alert--he was wary after the speedster nearly snatched Hel away under their noses--but not unhappy. He didn't try to make unnecessary conversation. No need. He had nothing important to say, and Hel didn't usually like to talk, which was alright, since Spire only really enjoyed smalltalk if it was to cut somebody with the edge of his sarcasm or threaten to cut them with something a little more tangible.
Separately, Spire and Helena were rather troubling, unsettling individuals in their own rights, and it was difficult to say whether the picture of them together changed the impression to something rather sweet or just multiplied the disturbingness. Possibly a bit of both.
They met the cluster of Wanderers at the door, and Spire perceived the note of tension on the faces.
"What's the fluster this time?" Spire asked Toby in a drawl. "Too much to hope Dutch lit up by the fuel tank of one of those cars he's been tinkering with and blew himself to hell?"
"Visitor," Toby replied, wishing he wouldn't say inflammatory things about Dutch--or anyone else, for that matter--around Hel. At the end of the day, the younger Schippers brother just wanted everyone to get along. "Probably nobody. You can stay here with Hel."
"Put a few between the freak's eyes if something's off. Don't wait for somebody to get killed," Spire said calmly. His mouth turned up in a half smile. "Because let's be honest. Given historic evidence, it'd probably be you."
Thank goodness for Clockwork.
Not that Spire was gonna say that aloud more often than he had to.
The setting changes from Helton to The Wasteland
“You always look more like a Saturday morning cartoon villain who spends every morning practicing their cackles in the mirror and murdering people slowly. With lazers. Although now you look more like someone pushed you into a pit that also had a new set of clothing and a bunch of cologne salesmen at the bottom.” It was with that astute observation that Heather turned to her new company, looking Faye over for a moment or two before glancing down at the notebook now in front of her.
“They’re Erubescians.” Unconsciously, Heather brought the stylus of her tablet to her lip and began to gnaw on the end, deepening the indentations that had already been made. “With a bunch of information about genetics stuff on them.” Raising her head, the Espionage Councillor once again looked to her coworker, stylus now pressed snugly against her cheek. “I’m guessing that you want them for something? Oh, and hello, Faye.”
Before she could receive an answer, however, a new addition arrived to the meeting room- Mithera. It was with drowsy movements that Heather faced the man, mist flicking about her shoulders like the tongue of some great beast. “I’m not your friend” was the first thing out of her mouth, followed by the less blunt, “We’re supposed to be talking about what we’re going to do with the terrorists when we get them. I think someone was saying we should send them to Councillor Pierrot’s old bases. Can’t remember who.”
It was hard to doubt that any of the other leaders of Liberty were unaware of the places. Heather herself had visited one, once, back when she was known simply as Speaker Laxton.
They were the closest she could imagine those Erubescian video games to being, and, unlike in video games, Heather did not have multiple lives.
“They’re Erubescians.” Unconsciously, Heather brought the stylus of her tablet to her lip and began to gnaw on the end, deepening the indentations that had already been made. “With a bunch of information about genetics stuff on them.” Raising her head, the Espionage Councillor once again looked to her coworker, stylus now pressed snugly against her cheek. “I’m guessing that you want them for something? Oh, and hello, Faye.”
Before she could receive an answer, however, a new addition arrived to the meeting room- Mithera. It was with drowsy movements that Heather faced the man, mist flicking about her shoulders like the tongue of some great beast. “I’m not your friend” was the first thing out of her mouth, followed by the less blunt, “We’re supposed to be talking about what we’re going to do with the terrorists when we get them. I think someone was saying we should send them to Councillor Pierrot’s old bases. Can’t remember who.”
It was hard to doubt that any of the other leaders of Liberty were unaware of the places. Heather herself had visited one, once, back when she was known simply as Speaker Laxton.
They were the closest she could imagine those Erubescian video games to being, and, unlike in video games, Heather did not have multiple lives.
The setting changes from The Wasteland to The Citadel
"Yeah. Like I said, Creepsy," said Skip. He was about to take the janitor's offer for an escort when the drywall crumbled in the stranger's hand. "More messes," he noted, pointing--cheerfully, not condescendingly. Picking up some drywall was certainly somewhere he could be useful. It wasn't much, but with his conditioned psyche, any opportunity to be used was a thrill after his time in isolation.
"I'm Skip the Third, by the way," he chattered as he tiptoed around puddles toward the accidental vandal and the crumble of wall bits.
It was at that moment that he heard his name, followed by the bang of Caddie's dropped bucket. Skip looked up and beamed like he had just won a lifetime supply of sherbet.
Skip didn't share Cadriel's hesitation. The project could count on one hand the number of people who willfully accepted physical contact of any kind, and he was going to take advantage of it. The rubber soles of the yellow chucks half-slipping and squeaking in the water from his haste, he bounded to the smaller experiment and swept her into an almost too-tight embrace that could easily take her feet off the floor, glowing shaking a tad from the strain of not giving everyone in the vicinity cancer.
"I'm fine, I'm good!" he said, releasing her. "See? Granted. Stuff did sort of happen." His smile grew rather weak. He glanced at Edgar and Jack, not certain how much of what he was about to say was classified. But certainly there was enough base gossip around that they couldn't find it out anyway, if they asked. "They--well--they put a microdetonator in my head. I was supposed to--sort of kamikaze that Wanderer group for what they did to the base. But Eris didn't pull the, um, proverbial trigger--which was surprising, since I thought she hated me--and I was afraid so I told the Wanderers, and they got it out before somebody else could do the job, I guess."
He dipped his head briefly, pressing his lips together. A shaming internal sting like the zap of a dog's shock collar still accompanied the thought of his failure. His cowardice.
He stuck on a smile again and looked up, his face lightening. "Anyway--the Helton curse--it's a real thing, apparently. Who knew? It nearly got me dead--so I guess it means I'm still loyal or something. So here I am. Transport picked me up a few days ago. I've been in the labs until today. Eris--she put in a request to get some of my clearance back today. And, um, I came upstairs--and I met Second Tallest Guy I've Ever Seen and Odin, with the stitches, there--" He paused to smile and wave at Edgar and Jack in turn, just to make sure they caught their christenings. "--then you dropped your bucket. And I think we're officially caught up from my end."
He quieted for a second, waiting for her story, but blurted out again at the last moment, "Oh and one of the Wanderers Lolly helped me catch a pet bird. His name is Dan and he doesn't sleep in my room because of what happened to the puppies and the other birds and the cat and the lizard, but he's downstairs if you want to see."
Pause. A thoughtful crease of the forehead.
"Okay, now we're officially caught up from my end. What did I miss?"
"I'm Skip the Third, by the way," he chattered as he tiptoed around puddles toward the accidental vandal and the crumble of wall bits.
It was at that moment that he heard his name, followed by the bang of Caddie's dropped bucket. Skip looked up and beamed like he had just won a lifetime supply of sherbet.
Skip didn't share Cadriel's hesitation. The project could count on one hand the number of people who willfully accepted physical contact of any kind, and he was going to take advantage of it. The rubber soles of the yellow chucks half-slipping and squeaking in the water from his haste, he bounded to the smaller experiment and swept her into an almost too-tight embrace that could easily take her feet off the floor, glowing shaking a tad from the strain of not giving everyone in the vicinity cancer.
"I'm fine, I'm good!" he said, releasing her. "See? Granted. Stuff did sort of happen." His smile grew rather weak. He glanced at Edgar and Jack, not certain how much of what he was about to say was classified. But certainly there was enough base gossip around that they couldn't find it out anyway, if they asked. "They--well--they put a microdetonator in my head. I was supposed to--sort of kamikaze that Wanderer group for what they did to the base. But Eris didn't pull the, um, proverbial trigger--which was surprising, since I thought she hated me--and I was afraid so I told the Wanderers, and they got it out before somebody else could do the job, I guess."
He dipped his head briefly, pressing his lips together. A shaming internal sting like the zap of a dog's shock collar still accompanied the thought of his failure. His cowardice.
He stuck on a smile again and looked up, his face lightening. "Anyway--the Helton curse--it's a real thing, apparently. Who knew? It nearly got me dead--so I guess it means I'm still loyal or something. So here I am. Transport picked me up a few days ago. I've been in the labs until today. Eris--she put in a request to get some of my clearance back today. And, um, I came upstairs--and I met Second Tallest Guy I've Ever Seen and Odin, with the stitches, there--" He paused to smile and wave at Edgar and Jack in turn, just to make sure they caught their christenings. "--then you dropped your bucket. And I think we're officially caught up from my end."
He quieted for a second, waiting for her story, but blurted out again at the last moment, "Oh and one of the Wanderers Lolly helped me catch a pet bird. His name is Dan and he doesn't sleep in my room because of what happened to the puppies and the other birds and the cat and the lizard, but he's downstairs if you want to see."
Pause. A thoughtful crease of the forehead.
"Okay, now we're officially caught up from my end. What did I miss?"
The setting changes from The Citadel to The Wasteland
Piper looked up with a small start as Nathan interrupted her meandering thoughts. "Actually, I was planning on using the entire table," she said, forcing a smile and gesturing to the empty seats. "No, of course not. I'm Piper. What's your name--? Oh," It had taken her a moment to recognize him. "Oh, you were on the--on the strike force. Knight Chandler, right? Nathan Chandler?"
She picked at her food, avoiding his eyes for a moment, embarrassed. "Sorry. I remember. There was a lot going on."
Like teleporters to coordinate. And dozens of bloody wounds to look at. And Piper, in the most out of character outburst of her life, wheeling up to Commander Kora Norrevinter and yelling at her in front of everyone.
Piper did regret, to some extent, her belligerent attack on the Commander's honor. The berserker had just--apparently--willingly given up her daughter to those terrorists, and in Piper's now clearer mind, she assumed that there had been mind manipulation of the Memolis involved. How must Kora feel now? She regretted accusing Kora of being a traitor...and yet, she wasn't sure she wouldn't shout it all again. Her anger for the loss of those Knights had not fully cooled, and Norrevinter was the most accessible target for Piper's bitterness.
Piper wanted to shrink. Nathan must think that was who she was--angry, bitter, and temperamental. She always thought she was a generally positive person, but maybe she was wrong.
"So," she said, clasping her hands on the table, her determination to be friendly redoubling, "Nathan. Tell me about yourself. What's your story?"
She picked at her food, avoiding his eyes for a moment, embarrassed. "Sorry. I remember. There was a lot going on."
Like teleporters to coordinate. And dozens of bloody wounds to look at. And Piper, in the most out of character outburst of her life, wheeling up to Commander Kora Norrevinter and yelling at her in front of everyone.
Piper did regret, to some extent, her belligerent attack on the Commander's honor. The berserker had just--apparently--willingly given up her daughter to those terrorists, and in Piper's now clearer mind, she assumed that there had been mind manipulation of the Memolis involved. How must Kora feel now? She regretted accusing Kora of being a traitor...and yet, she wasn't sure she wouldn't shout it all again. Her anger for the loss of those Knights had not fully cooled, and Norrevinter was the most accessible target for Piper's bitterness.
Piper wanted to shrink. Nathan must think that was who she was--angry, bitter, and temperamental. She always thought she was a generally positive person, but maybe she was wrong.
"So," she said, clasping her hands on the table, her determination to be friendly redoubling, "Nathan. Tell me about yourself. What's your story?"
The setting changes from The Wasteland to The Citadel
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.”
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 Liberty Base Alpha A
More than willing to learn how.
Colt blinked.
“I very glad you are willing,” he said, pacing toward the far wall of the gym and planting himself with loose knees, “Because I was not asking.”
He reached into his left holster and drew his preferred weapon— a plain black laser blaster with a narrow barrel and a near instantaneous impact time. It was a pain to shoot, or so he’d been told by others in his field, with a finicky trigger and the inability to shoot through an object, amongst other flaws. Despite it’s ticks, though, it was the only gun that allowed for the full utilization of his gift.
Not to mention the only gun he trusted to shoot down a bullet mid-flight.
“You are seeing me, yes?” he prompted, waving his arms and then tapping his vested chest, “Is center mass. Is where you are always shooting at, especially on big person.”
Colt had read the boy’s gift summary on his file, and trusted that Samon at least had an idea of where the trainer stood. Whether or not he could aim or manage the recoil was another question altogether, though, and Colt kept his gun arm at the ready.
“So, shooting for center,” he instructed, no sign of jest in his tone.
Colt blinked.
“I very glad you are willing,” he said, pacing toward the far wall of the gym and planting himself with loose knees, “Because I was not asking.”
He reached into his left holster and drew his preferred weapon— a plain black laser blaster with a narrow barrel and a near instantaneous impact time. It was a pain to shoot, or so he’d been told by others in his field, with a finicky trigger and the inability to shoot through an object, amongst other flaws. Despite it’s ticks, though, it was the only gun that allowed for the full utilization of his gift.
Not to mention the only gun he trusted to shoot down a bullet mid-flight.
“You are seeing me, yes?” he prompted, waving his arms and then tapping his vested chest, “Is center mass. Is where you are always shooting at, especially on big person.”
Colt had read the boy’s gift summary on his file, and trusted that Samon at least had an idea of where the trainer stood. Whether or not he could aim or manage the recoil was another question altogether, though, and Colt kept his gun arm at the ready.
“So, shooting for center,” he instructed, no sign of jest in his tone.
The setting changes from Liberty Base Alpha A to Helton
Mina rolled her eyes and then fixed her gaze on Spire with obvious disapproval at his comment about Dutch, but said nothing. It was hardly as if anyone was out of place to wish him ill, but that did not make the joke any less in poor taste, especially with little ears around.
The doctor’s accusative stare dropped when Spire mentioned Toby being killed, however.
That one was definitely on her.
Sort of?
“Well, best get moving before anyone else does,” she said in her usual warm tone, checking that the stove was off before striding toward the kitchen door, “And Miss Dawn, I suppose you could tell the others what’s going on?”
She moved at a pace just below a jog as she passed into the hall, taking long, quick strides like a server during rush still trying to look collected. "Y'all don't think it's some kinda ambush, d'you?" she questioned, pulling out her handgun as she walked and checking to be sure that it was properly loaded. "I mean, what with the company we've been getting thrown lately... "
The doctor’s accusative stare dropped when Spire mentioned Toby being killed, however.
That one was definitely on her.
Sort of?
“Well, best get moving before anyone else does,” she said in her usual warm tone, checking that the stove was off before striding toward the kitchen door, “And Miss Dawn, I suppose you could tell the others what’s going on?”
She moved at a pace just below a jog as she passed into the hall, taking long, quick strides like a server during rush still trying to look collected. "Y'all don't think it's some kinda ambush, d'you?" she questioned, pulling out her handgun as she walked and checking to be sure that it was properly loaded. "I mean, what with the company we've been getting thrown lately... "
The setting changes from Helton to Liberty Base Alpha A
Oh boy. So he was actually going to fire a gun for once.
Samon couldn't say he was excited, nor could he say he was nervous. He'd known a moment like this would come but had just hoped it wouldn't. He looked down at his hands. He knew he was holding the gun, as he could feel it in his grasp. But he couldn't see the gun he was holding. It didn't formulate a picture in his mind. He knew what a sight was, but he didn't know where to look to aim down it. He knew what aiming was but he didn't know how to do it.
He nodded when Colt motioned to himself, tapping himself on the chest. He could see that the trainer was holding something as well, but he couldn't tell what it was. A shield? Another gun?
And then came the instruction. He wanted Samon to shoot him? Samon was about to clarify, just to make sure he wasn't bluffing, when he saw the logic in it. Samon couldn't shoot at a regular target. There was no energy, this he couldn't see it. But he could see another person. So this would give him something to shoot at that he could see. He figured Colt knew what he was doing and that he had gear on as well as a way to stop the bullet in case he set up the most lethal shot. But still, the task was daunting.
He raised the gun in the only way he knew how. He set his stance, putting his right foot out to stabilize himself and rose the gun in his right hand, resting his right arm on his left. This would keep the gun from twitching around, making him at least a bit more accurate.
And still, there was no sight to look down, no way to make this pinpoint accurate. But he'd do his best. He looked at Colt, who was standing at the ready on the other end. He inhaled, calming himself, focusing himself, steeling himself. And then he exhaled, squeezing the trigger for the first time.
The bang was fairly standard. He was used to that. What he wasn't used to was the force of the gun whipping his hand back. He'd never experienced recoil and Samon was surprised by the pain that ripped through his wrist. He nearly dropped the gun because of it, but held on due to countless drills in Gun Safety that reminded him to never drop the gun. He did lower it, looking at Colt to see the result.
Samon couldn't say he was excited, nor could he say he was nervous. He'd known a moment like this would come but had just hoped it wouldn't. He looked down at his hands. He knew he was holding the gun, as he could feel it in his grasp. But he couldn't see the gun he was holding. It didn't formulate a picture in his mind. He knew what a sight was, but he didn't know where to look to aim down it. He knew what aiming was but he didn't know how to do it.
He nodded when Colt motioned to himself, tapping himself on the chest. He could see that the trainer was holding something as well, but he couldn't tell what it was. A shield? Another gun?
And then came the instruction. He wanted Samon to shoot him? Samon was about to clarify, just to make sure he wasn't bluffing, when he saw the logic in it. Samon couldn't shoot at a regular target. There was no energy, this he couldn't see it. But he could see another person. So this would give him something to shoot at that he could see. He figured Colt knew what he was doing and that he had gear on as well as a way to stop the bullet in case he set up the most lethal shot. But still, the task was daunting.
He raised the gun in the only way he knew how. He set his stance, putting his right foot out to stabilize himself and rose the gun in his right hand, resting his right arm on his left. This would keep the gun from twitching around, making him at least a bit more accurate.
And still, there was no sight to look down, no way to make this pinpoint accurate. But he'd do his best. He looked at Colt, who was standing at the ready on the other end. He inhaled, calming himself, focusing himself, steeling himself. And then he exhaled, squeezing the trigger for the first time.
The bang was fairly standard. He was used to that. What he wasn't used to was the force of the gun whipping his hand back. He'd never experienced recoil and Samon was surprised by the pain that ripped through his wrist. He nearly dropped the gun because of it, but held on due to countless drills in Gun Safety that reminded him to never drop the gun. He did lower it, looking at Colt to see the result.
The setting changes from Liberty Base Alpha A to Helton
The sudden brush of fluff against her face quite visibly took Clockwork by surprise- head jerking away, nose wrinkling in what was, undeniably, a rather undignified manner as she fought back a sneeze. It was after a few moments that she recovered, and, absentmindedly rubbing the side of her nose with the side of her hand, continued to stir the pot. The oatmeal was coming along nicely now, with some of the chunks softening under the heat. Only a portion of her focus was on the state of Hel’s breakfast, however- the rest remained on the matter at hand.
“We would be more than happy to stay behind,” Clockwork intoned, willingly offering up the spoon to Mina as the doctor took it. “It would be for the best to make sure that there’s enough people on alert around base, after all. Soren and I can finish preparing breakfast for the rest of the group, as well, once we’ve finished waking everyone up.”
“And if you need any more help, however, then just call us.” To emphasize his point, Soren tapped gently against his temple, letting it linger there after a few beats. “If we can’t bring help ourselves, then we’ll try to send someone else as soon as possible.”
Not the ones to dawdle, the two moved to follow into the hall- Clockwork quickly loping from the stool and to her guardian’s side, reaching to grab the extended hand with her own- although they soon came to a halt as Spire and Hel came around the corner and into view. In all truth, the ex-Liberties found the former to be a bit more than a little ominous, but it was with a smile that Soren greeted both him and the young Norrevinter, and a slight bow of the head from the healer at his side.
“Good morning, Spire. Helena,” Soren said. He gave a slight nod as Toby explained the situation to the other Schipper, but, rather than add any commentary, remained silent. His attention had been torn away by the vision that had suddenly took form before his eyes- Dutch’s car, in its place outside Helton, with the man himself positioned beneath the hulking metal. There was a sudden flash, blinding him- then a brilliant bloom of oranges and yellows as the vehicle exploded. Soren could imagine the warmth across his face, smell the gasoline and ash as it scattered…
(there would be nothing left to heal the body would be too damaged for even me to help with he would be finally gone)
Alarmed, the man looked over to see his adoptive daughter staring forward, eyes gleaming fiercely as she watched the mirage along with him. She had stuck to the idea Spire provided like a fly to honey, and had begun to weave the idea out within her mind almost...blissfully. Frowning, Soren gave Clockwork’s hand a slight press, and, when her attention had been caught, a disapproving look.
The vision vanished.
Expression once again settling into one of welcome, Soren once again brought his attention to his current company with a quiet clear of the throat. “Mina was preparing breakfast for you before she left, Helena,” he began. “It should be done in a bit, but I can get you a glass of milk for you until then?” Then, to Spire, “I hope you don’t mind waiting for breakfast this time around. We woke up a bit later than we expected, so it may take us some time to prepare everyone’s meals.”
It was an odd thing to apologize for, really- especially at a time like this- but old habits died hard.
“We would be more than happy to stay behind,” Clockwork intoned, willingly offering up the spoon to Mina as the doctor took it. “It would be for the best to make sure that there’s enough people on alert around base, after all. Soren and I can finish preparing breakfast for the rest of the group, as well, once we’ve finished waking everyone up.”
“And if you need any more help, however, then just call us.” To emphasize his point, Soren tapped gently against his temple, letting it linger there after a few beats. “If we can’t bring help ourselves, then we’ll try to send someone else as soon as possible.”
Not the ones to dawdle, the two moved to follow into the hall- Clockwork quickly loping from the stool and to her guardian’s side, reaching to grab the extended hand with her own- although they soon came to a halt as Spire and Hel came around the corner and into view. In all truth, the ex-Liberties found the former to be a bit more than a little ominous, but it was with a smile that Soren greeted both him and the young Norrevinter, and a slight bow of the head from the healer at his side.
“Good morning, Spire. Helena,” Soren said. He gave a slight nod as Toby explained the situation to the other Schipper, but, rather than add any commentary, remained silent. His attention had been torn away by the vision that had suddenly took form before his eyes- Dutch’s car, in its place outside Helton, with the man himself positioned beneath the hulking metal. There was a sudden flash, blinding him- then a brilliant bloom of oranges and yellows as the vehicle exploded. Soren could imagine the warmth across his face, smell the gasoline and ash as it scattered…
(there would be nothing left to heal the body would be too damaged for even me to help with he would be finally gone)
Alarmed, the man looked over to see his adoptive daughter staring forward, eyes gleaming fiercely as she watched the mirage along with him. She had stuck to the idea Spire provided like a fly to honey, and had begun to weave the idea out within her mind almost...blissfully. Frowning, Soren gave Clockwork’s hand a slight press, and, when her attention had been caught, a disapproving look.
The vision vanished.
Expression once again settling into one of welcome, Soren once again brought his attention to his current company with a quiet clear of the throat. “Mina was preparing breakfast for you before she left, Helena,” he began. “It should be done in a bit, but I can get you a glass of milk for you until then?” Then, to Spire, “I hope you don’t mind waiting for breakfast this time around. We woke up a bit later than we expected, so it may take us some time to prepare everyone’s meals.”
It was an odd thing to apologize for, really- especially at a time like this- but old habits died hard.
The setting changes from Helton to The Citadel
Ed nodded to Skip, acknowledging his introduction.
He didn't need Skip to point out the awful mess the large oaf of a man had made. This just meant more work, more opportunity to get his ear talked off when it came time to report back. Before he could resume his mopping however the bang of a bucket hitting the floor brought his eyes off the strange rambling fellow over to the woman he had come across earlier.
From the moment she saw Skip he could tell they knew each other well. How well was questionable as Skip ran in for a big hug. Either the guy was an extremely touchy-feely sort of person, the kind of person who makes his skin crawl just being near, or the two were close. Regardless of who they were or who was sleeping with it was none of his business and he planned to keep it that way. It was getting way too crowded in this hall as it was. Two was company, three was a crowd and all of the above was more company than he appreciated.
Just as he was about to move on down the hall, hoping to avoid notice so he could clean the rest of the mess he made in peace, he found his foot would not move as though it were glued to the floor. Attempting to move the other foot he saw that it too would not move.
"Aw. Leaving already?"
He cringed. Hearing her voice never meant anything good.
Look, I've already made myself look like enough of a fool out here. You don't need to help.
He struggled not to speak aloud, a learned habit from past experience. He knew nobody else could hear her voice except for him, at least that is what he's been led to believe, and answering questions nobody asked would only make him seem like some sort of lunatic. He didn't need help becoming even more of a social pariah.
"Looks like you've made yourself some friends. Aren't they just adorable?"
Ed's back stiffened instantly as he felt a smooth, delicate finger trace down the right side of his neck. Sauntering up to his side the ethereal beauty that was his sister rested her chin upon his shoulder, lightly leaning on him as she looked over the group around Ed with a devilish smirk. He could feel her touch and her weight upon him but he knew she wasn't there. It was all a hallucination, a trick of his mind brought upon him by her. Sweat ran down his brow as he tried his hardest to ignore her presence.
No. I don't know these people. They aren't adorable either.
"Tut tut. You're too negative. You need to loosen up. Lets hang out with your new buddies."
She was so casual she spoke as if she had not a care in the world. The truth was she didn't have one. She was effectively unaffected by almost all forms of danger. No one other than her brother even knew she existed and Ed couldn't do anything to her. The most he could do to bother her was to keep away from things she might take an interest in. Right now however he was powerless to challenge the verdict. He wasn't going anywhere no matter how badly he disliked it and he disliked this situation plenty.
So there he stood, bucket next to him and mop in his hand. Having said her word she decided to vanish, leaving Ed's perceived world while he listened to what Skip had to say. He couldn't help but give a sigh of relief now that he didn't need to pretend there wasn't someone hanging off his shoulder now that she let him be. He knew better than to think for a moment she wasn't listening to every thought and watching every emotion that passed through his mind but at the very least he could suffer without her added torment for the time being.
At the very least some of what Skip had to say was of some interest. The fact that the military had put a micro-detonator in his head wasn't shocking news but it was still worthy of note. He wondered just how they planned to kill people with a bomb that small. There was also mention of some person named Eris but he had no idea who that was so he didn't care.
The most interesting thing to Ed that Skip mentioned was something called The Helton Curse. He didn't know anything about a Helton but from what he could deduce from what he said he figured it killed people who were loyal to Erebesco or something along those lines. Now Ed didn't wish death upon Erubesco or anything quite so strong but he definitely knew that he was by no means loyal. He served because he had no choice. Something with a curse that killed off loyal members of Erubesco would come in handy if he ever wanted to be left alone.
Not that there wouldn't be other ways the military could get him. If there was one thing he knew it was that there was always someone with something for the job. That was the irritating part about his fellow gifted. Thanks to their super powers it was a pure matter of fact that no one is born equal. He was born to be lesser than others. As far as his fellow gifted were concerned he was dirt. He couldn't blame them, he thought so too. To him he was just some one-eyed piece of junk that barely even understood his own ability. He'd never known nor did he ever want to know the specifics regarding his supposed 'Gift'. Quite frankly he didn't even care. He had had enough of people and their powers. He just wanted to be alone.
Of course she wouldn't like that very much. Far too boring for the likes of Id.
He wasn't amused with his new nickname. A name such as Odin's was well wasted on some rotten janitorial slave. He never liked nicknames to begin with and he was starting to really dislike Skip as well. Perhaps this is your plan. He wondered, thinking words knowing that Id would definitely hear them. You knew this would really get under my skin, didn't you. He accused her in a scathing tone of thought. Nothing answered back save a long period of silence. She knew he knew that she could hear his thoughts but she didn't want him getting the idea that he could just talk to her whenever he liked. She found his impotent rage highly amusing but too much of anything was never palatable.
Quietly he stood there, hoping his quiet participation wasn't drawing too much attention. He looked about, hoping they weren't staring. Given his odd behavior moments ago he figured odds were likely that he wouldn't escape this conversation completely clear. His trust in his own luck had been lost a long time ago.
He didn't need Skip to point out the awful mess the large oaf of a man had made. This just meant more work, more opportunity to get his ear talked off when it came time to report back. Before he could resume his mopping however the bang of a bucket hitting the floor brought his eyes off the strange rambling fellow over to the woman he had come across earlier.
From the moment she saw Skip he could tell they knew each other well. How well was questionable as Skip ran in for a big hug. Either the guy was an extremely touchy-feely sort of person, the kind of person who makes his skin crawl just being near, or the two were close. Regardless of who they were or who was sleeping with it was none of his business and he planned to keep it that way. It was getting way too crowded in this hall as it was. Two was company, three was a crowd and all of the above was more company than he appreciated.
Just as he was about to move on down the hall, hoping to avoid notice so he could clean the rest of the mess he made in peace, he found his foot would not move as though it were glued to the floor. Attempting to move the other foot he saw that it too would not move.
"Aw. Leaving already?"
He cringed. Hearing her voice never meant anything good.
Look, I've already made myself look like enough of a fool out here. You don't need to help.
He struggled not to speak aloud, a learned habit from past experience. He knew nobody else could hear her voice except for him, at least that is what he's been led to believe, and answering questions nobody asked would only make him seem like some sort of lunatic. He didn't need help becoming even more of a social pariah.
"Looks like you've made yourself some friends. Aren't they just adorable?"
Ed's back stiffened instantly as he felt a smooth, delicate finger trace down the right side of his neck. Sauntering up to his side the ethereal beauty that was his sister rested her chin upon his shoulder, lightly leaning on him as she looked over the group around Ed with a devilish smirk. He could feel her touch and her weight upon him but he knew she wasn't there. It was all a hallucination, a trick of his mind brought upon him by her. Sweat ran down his brow as he tried his hardest to ignore her presence.
No. I don't know these people. They aren't adorable either.
"Tut tut. You're too negative. You need to loosen up. Lets hang out with your new buddies."
She was so casual she spoke as if she had not a care in the world. The truth was she didn't have one. She was effectively unaffected by almost all forms of danger. No one other than her brother even knew she existed and Ed couldn't do anything to her. The most he could do to bother her was to keep away from things she might take an interest in. Right now however he was powerless to challenge the verdict. He wasn't going anywhere no matter how badly he disliked it and he disliked this situation plenty.
So there he stood, bucket next to him and mop in his hand. Having said her word she decided to vanish, leaving Ed's perceived world while he listened to what Skip had to say. He couldn't help but give a sigh of relief now that he didn't need to pretend there wasn't someone hanging off his shoulder now that she let him be. He knew better than to think for a moment she wasn't listening to every thought and watching every emotion that passed through his mind but at the very least he could suffer without her added torment for the time being.
At the very least some of what Skip had to say was of some interest. The fact that the military had put a micro-detonator in his head wasn't shocking news but it was still worthy of note. He wondered just how they planned to kill people with a bomb that small. There was also mention of some person named Eris but he had no idea who that was so he didn't care.
The most interesting thing to Ed that Skip mentioned was something called The Helton Curse. He didn't know anything about a Helton but from what he could deduce from what he said he figured it killed people who were loyal to Erebesco or something along those lines. Now Ed didn't wish death upon Erubesco or anything quite so strong but he definitely knew that he was by no means loyal. He served because he had no choice. Something with a curse that killed off loyal members of Erubesco would come in handy if he ever wanted to be left alone.
Not that there wouldn't be other ways the military could get him. If there was one thing he knew it was that there was always someone with something for the job. That was the irritating part about his fellow gifted. Thanks to their super powers it was a pure matter of fact that no one is born equal. He was born to be lesser than others. As far as his fellow gifted were concerned he was dirt. He couldn't blame them, he thought so too. To him he was just some one-eyed piece of junk that barely even understood his own ability. He'd never known nor did he ever want to know the specifics regarding his supposed 'Gift'. Quite frankly he didn't even care. He had had enough of people and their powers. He just wanted to be alone.
Of course she wouldn't like that very much. Far too boring for the likes of Id.
He wasn't amused with his new nickname. A name such as Odin's was well wasted on some rotten janitorial slave. He never liked nicknames to begin with and he was starting to really dislike Skip as well. Perhaps this is your plan. He wondered, thinking words knowing that Id would definitely hear them. You knew this would really get under my skin, didn't you. He accused her in a scathing tone of thought. Nothing answered back save a long period of silence. She knew he knew that she could hear his thoughts but she didn't want him getting the idea that he could just talk to her whenever he liked. She found his impotent rage highly amusing but too much of anything was never palatable.
Quietly he stood there, hoping his quiet participation wasn't drawing too much attention. He looked about, hoping they weren't staring. Given his odd behavior moments ago he figured odds were likely that he wouldn't escape this conversation completely clear. His trust in his own luck had been lost a long time ago.
Nathan's mouth quirked upward at Piper's little joke, and he placed his tray on the table. He observed the recognition in her eyes as he sat down across from her, and nodded as she said his name. In response to her embarrassed apology, he shook his head. "No, it's fine. There was definitely a lot going on at the time." He replied calmly. He remembered the chaotic return to the base, and the shouting Kora had received from Piper. It wasn't something he expected to hear from her. Normally, she seemed sweet and calm.
Piper's question suddenly pulled him away from his thoughts, and he blinked. "Ah, my story?" He repeated, looking at her curiously. He glanced at his tray of food awkwardly for a second as he pondered the question. "There's not really much to say, to be honest with you." He replied. "I've been here ever since I was old enough to be trained. I took to sniper training and earned my title of a Knight that way. It's been just the same up until now." He thought more about it and frowned, rubbing his left temple with his fingers. "I have a few gaps in my memory because of an accident, so that's my story so far." He added, shrugging it off. "
Piper's question suddenly pulled him away from his thoughts, and he blinked. "Ah, my story?" He repeated, looking at her curiously. He glanced at his tray of food awkwardly for a second as he pondered the question. "There's not really much to say, to be honest with you." He replied. "I've been here ever since I was old enough to be trained. I took to sniper training and earned my title of a Knight that way. It's been just the same up until now." He thought more about it and frowned, rubbing his left temple with his fingers. "I have a few gaps in my memory because of an accident, so that's my story so far." He added, shrugging it off. "
The setting changes from The Citadel to Liberty Base Alpha A
"Another boring day in Liberty Base Alpha, it might look the same as everyone previous, go work, create something extraordinary or get a reprimand, go back to home, go sleep and again go work. Routine could be exhausting. Cortana, make some notes," Selim said that to his personal digital assistant - a small electronic device carring inside his pocket. "First, go to a gym because if not my butt (slang for bottom) will stick to a chair as a result of my job. Second, gossip with Councillors ha ha ha... . Third, take my dog for a walk. And foremost, send an encrypted report to Erubesco." The device made a quiet sound as a signal that the note was saved.
Selim wasn't sure why Erubesco faction has sent him to Liberty Base. They gave him a flat, a false identity card (but with the same name) and even a job in Defence Department. They did it using many bribs, but it wasn't difficult because corruption is popular not only in Erubesco. Probably they wanted to achieve some important information about their antagonists from the better source - the heart of Liberty faction. Selim have been working under the cover for more than a month, he was notifying regularly his employer about some more or less interesting events, but during this time he didn't find anything especially important. Currently he's become to doubt about the right of his services. "Why aren't they able to live in peace?" He thought.
"Whatever, I need to go out. If I don't do that I will be late." Selim took several necessary things and left his flat. Obviously he put on casual clothes because he has to look like an average Liberty person, not like an Erubescoman. When he went in the main hall of the base he thought that he should change slightly his today plans. He was going to cut the time of some activities because he needed to visit one more place.
He went to the lower level of the base to so called training rooms. He decided to test one model of a gun for snipers because it needs some changes. His false identity card had a chip with written permissions. Selim is an employee of Liberty Base so he could use it as a key to unlock some things reserved only for trusted Libertymans like employees of Defence Department. When he was walking through the corridor he saw a boy shooting to a man standing on the opposite side. Fortunately the man had a bulletproof vest covering his torso.
He walked near the boy but he keeped some distance between them. "It was a good shot, but what would you have done if you had shot this man into his leg?" Selim said that to the boy and smiled slightly.
Selim wasn't sure why Erubesco faction has sent him to Liberty Base. They gave him a flat, a false identity card (but with the same name) and even a job in Defence Department. They did it using many bribs, but it wasn't difficult because corruption is popular not only in Erubesco. Probably they wanted to achieve some important information about their antagonists from the better source - the heart of Liberty faction. Selim have been working under the cover for more than a month, he was notifying regularly his employer about some more or less interesting events, but during this time he didn't find anything especially important. Currently he's become to doubt about the right of his services. "Why aren't they able to live in peace?" He thought.
"Whatever, I need to go out. If I don't do that I will be late." Selim took several necessary things and left his flat. Obviously he put on casual clothes because he has to look like an average Liberty person, not like an Erubescoman. When he went in the main hall of the base he thought that he should change slightly his today plans. He was going to cut the time of some activities because he needed to visit one more place.
He went to the lower level of the base to so called training rooms. He decided to test one model of a gun for snipers because it needs some changes. His false identity card had a chip with written permissions. Selim is an employee of Liberty Base so he could use it as a key to unlock some things reserved only for trusted Libertymans like employees of Defence Department. When he was walking through the corridor he saw a boy shooting to a man standing on the opposite side. Fortunately the man had a bulletproof vest covering his torso.
He walked near the boy but he keeped some distance between them. "It was a good shot, but what would you have done if you had shot this man into his leg?" Selim said that to the boy and smiled slightly.
Setting
0.00 INK
The reach of he Defense Sector was vast, to put it gently: Commander Blue had her metaphorical (or possibly, according to popular trainee rumor, literal,) eyes and ears embedded inside of every wall and behind each corner within Liberty’s reach.
Highly specialized agents with glossy eyes and stiff gates droned up and down the halls of Alpha A according to some hive-minded algorithm devised by their leader, forming a backup net in readiness for internal threats. Even more buzzed about with a higher degree of subtlety- Technopaths, telepaths, and supersensories were arranged at desks across the dark-lit rows of Monitoring Stations. They stared at screens with vacant gazes, their minds and gifts all the while roving their assigned tracts in search of any disturbances.
At one such desk in one such station, sat Moira Toulet (less affectionately known as SM862,) a low-leveled technopath with a close-cropped head of black hair and practically glowing blue eyes. Her gift was a simple one: She could comprehend the chippering interface language of machines without touching them, and she used it to mentally sweep her assigned block of base on a regular route.
Today, that route happened to encompass the lower specialized training block. An alarm on someone’s wrist whirred. A login from an Agent Colt clicked in. Someone recorded a daily schedule memo onto a recorder and… ”….send an encrypted report to Erubesco”
Moira’s gaze hardened, and she flicked her screen to showcase the video feeds of the block- Activate facial scans, take inventory of who was around for the statement, start tagging and placing security measures on anyone it could have been. While she knew that the reading had come from a pocket-sized device, there was no way of knowing which person in the vicinity had spoken.
She started entering qualifiers.
Male voice- Eliminate women.
Adult voice- Eliminate prepubescent males.
No accent of affect- Three more down.
She replayed the feed twice more and narrowed it down to those whose mouths had been moving, leaving her with three possible suspects, all of whom she immediately tagged with bright red security flags that were superimposed over any image of them as they graced the other monitors. Two more clicks, and a base-wide alert was sent out to relevant defense Agents, excluding the potential suspects.
Bruce Cargal
Selim Sharp
Eric Murphy
All three were too close to the training sector for immediate engagement to be wise, but their names were dispatched out to another level of Defense to be scrutinized. Over the next ten minutes, a team of specialized Agents would be digging through their files and past appearances. In fifteen, the traitor would be confirmed. In twenty, there would be a plan of action and the threat would be squashed.
Having addressed the threat, Moira blinked and closed the alert form. Her gaze mellowed back into the same glassy vacancy as before, and the sweeps were resumed.
Highly specialized agents with glossy eyes and stiff gates droned up and down the halls of Alpha A according to some hive-minded algorithm devised by their leader, forming a backup net in readiness for internal threats. Even more buzzed about with a higher degree of subtlety- Technopaths, telepaths, and supersensories were arranged at desks across the dark-lit rows of Monitoring Stations. They stared at screens with vacant gazes, their minds and gifts all the while roving their assigned tracts in search of any disturbances.
At one such desk in one such station, sat Moira Toulet (less affectionately known as SM862,) a low-leveled technopath with a close-cropped head of black hair and practically glowing blue eyes. Her gift was a simple one: She could comprehend the chippering interface language of machines without touching them, and she used it to mentally sweep her assigned block of base on a regular route.
Today, that route happened to encompass the lower specialized training block. An alarm on someone’s wrist whirred. A login from an Agent Colt clicked in. Someone recorded a daily schedule memo onto a recorder and… ”….send an encrypted report to Erubesco”
Moira’s gaze hardened, and she flicked her screen to showcase the video feeds of the block- Activate facial scans, take inventory of who was around for the statement, start tagging and placing security measures on anyone it could have been. While she knew that the reading had come from a pocket-sized device, there was no way of knowing which person in the vicinity had spoken.
She started entering qualifiers.
Male voice- Eliminate women.
Adult voice- Eliminate prepubescent males.
No accent of affect- Three more down.
She replayed the feed twice more and narrowed it down to those whose mouths had been moving, leaving her with three possible suspects, all of whom she immediately tagged with bright red security flags that were superimposed over any image of them as they graced the other monitors. Two more clicks, and a base-wide alert was sent out to relevant defense Agents, excluding the potential suspects.
Bruce Cargal
Selim Sharp
Eric Murphy
All three were too close to the training sector for immediate engagement to be wise, but their names were dispatched out to another level of Defense to be scrutinized. Over the next ten minutes, a team of specialized Agents would be digging through their files and past appearances. In fifteen, the traitor would be confirmed. In twenty, there would be a plan of action and the threat would be squashed.
Having addressed the threat, Moira blinked and closed the alert form. Her gaze mellowed back into the same glassy vacancy as before, and the sweeps were resumed.
As the bullet flew free from the chamber, Colt’s vision locked onto it at the speed of light and traced the projectile’s path as it hurtled forward toward the trainer.
The recoil had knocked Samon’s hand away upon firing, but the shot landed lethally nonetheless. Colt kept his muscles loose and rolled with the impact against his lower abdomen, taking a deliberate step back as the force dispersed across the vest. The thin outer layer of fibers loosened and rippled to disperse the initial energy of the hit across a broader surface, while the thick inner layer pressurized and grew dense around the entry site in response, catching the shot and then expelling the bullet onto the ground with a clink.
When all was said and done, the trainer would suffer no more than perhaps a mild bruise.
“Is too low, too left. Enters through intestines, to left kidney, maybe rib damage for force,” he commented, not needing to look down to see where the strands of grey fabric had been disturbed. Even as he spoke, the small divot began to expand back out to its normal shape, not unlike a squeaky toy refilling itself.
“Is lethal shot, in field. But still giving time for returning fire..” He tapped higher on his chest, toward the center of his sternum. “Aim is correct, but is going bad from wrist—“
Before the trainer could finish his commentary, he was cut short by an unexpected entry, and his finger snapped to the trigger of his weapon on instinct. This was a private session with a special case, in what had come to be respected over the course of many years as Agent-Trainer Colt’s room, but Colt did not let his displeasure at the intrusion show.
Or rather, the general expression of blank stoicism on his face remained as stoic as ever.
“If he was shooting me in leg,” Colt responded, looking at the intruder much as a horse would look at a fly circling close to its tail, “I would be on floor instead of on feet when asking, ‘Why are you being interruption?’”
The recoil had knocked Samon’s hand away upon firing, but the shot landed lethally nonetheless. Colt kept his muscles loose and rolled with the impact against his lower abdomen, taking a deliberate step back as the force dispersed across the vest. The thin outer layer of fibers loosened and rippled to disperse the initial energy of the hit across a broader surface, while the thick inner layer pressurized and grew dense around the entry site in response, catching the shot and then expelling the bullet onto the ground with a clink.
When all was said and done, the trainer would suffer no more than perhaps a mild bruise.
“Is too low, too left. Enters through intestines, to left kidney, maybe rib damage for force,” he commented, not needing to look down to see where the strands of grey fabric had been disturbed. Even as he spoke, the small divot began to expand back out to its normal shape, not unlike a squeaky toy refilling itself.
“Is lethal shot, in field. But still giving time for returning fire..” He tapped higher on his chest, toward the center of his sternum. “Aim is correct, but is going bad from wrist—“
Before the trainer could finish his commentary, he was cut short by an unexpected entry, and his finger snapped to the trigger of his weapon on instinct. This was a private session with a special case, in what had come to be respected over the course of many years as Agent-Trainer Colt’s room, but Colt did not let his displeasure at the intrusion show.
Or rather, the general expression of blank stoicism on his face remained as stoic as ever.
“If he was shooting me in leg,” Colt responded, looking at the intruder much as a horse would look at a fly circling close to its tail, “I would be on floor instead of on feet when asking, ‘Why are you being interruption?’”
Samon was gripping his wrist as Colt spoke, but when he started listing off body parts, Samon started to feel genuinely surprised. I hit something?
That had been the first time he'd ever fired a gun. Granted, it wasn't the most accurate shot in the world as it was low left according to Swolberham Lincoln, but it hit the target. Not to mention it was a lethal shot by technical rule and Samon would take that. Not bad for a blind boy...
The door behind him swung open and Samon could practically feel the muscles tense up within the bulky trainer. Whether it was from constant conditioning or the fact that he was genuinely startled, Samon would never know. Perhaps a mix of both. But it was the newcomer that walked by with a smooth stride and interjected on the lesson that the blind boy kept his attention on. Something in the way he walked...it was slightly more carefree than he was used to typically seeing. A bit more loose. Curious, Samon studied him a bit more, letting him and Colt carry on their conversation. It didn't seem like a good time to talk, considering how Colt had already answered the question for him, but he listened intently.
That had been the first time he'd ever fired a gun. Granted, it wasn't the most accurate shot in the world as it was low left according to Swolberham Lincoln, but it hit the target. Not to mention it was a lethal shot by technical rule and Samon would take that. Not bad for a blind boy...
The door behind him swung open and Samon could practically feel the muscles tense up within the bulky trainer. Whether it was from constant conditioning or the fact that he was genuinely startled, Samon would never know. Perhaps a mix of both. But it was the newcomer that walked by with a smooth stride and interjected on the lesson that the blind boy kept his attention on. Something in the way he walked...it was slightly more carefree than he was used to typically seeing. A bit more loose. Curious, Samon studied him a bit more, letting him and Colt carry on their conversation. It didn't seem like a good time to talk, considering how Colt had already answered the question for him, but he listened intently.
The setting changes from Liberty Base Alpha A to Helton
Spire was quite aware of Mina's disapproval of his little jest about Dutch, but he had no intention of stopping such talk any time soon. He had found his position was on higher strategic ground if he kept the insults to the charming banter variety when it came to most of the Wanderers, but Dutch was free game. Nobody liked that greasy-haired killer anyway. Especially not Clockwork and company. And sometimes he might even manage to get a smile out of Hel by saying nasty things about Dutch. ...Even if it was a kind of dark smile.
"Thanks for the concern, Soren," Spire chuckled, "but somehow I've gotten by without a personal chef all my life so far. I'm set for now." He leaned against the counter, idly flicking out one of several short knives and testing its edge against his thumb almost subconsciously. With this motion, the direction his mind had wandered became suspect when he asked, "I suppose you haven't seen old man Montana yet. Probably still slinking around acting mysterious. Unless he's taken another unexplained haitus?" And it came painfully clear when he added, wryly, "And any idea where one might find your great and marvelous showman this morning?" because Pierrot was the only one who could portal him to the prisoner.
"Thanks for the concern, Soren," Spire chuckled, "but somehow I've gotten by without a personal chef all my life so far. I'm set for now." He leaned against the counter, idly flicking out one of several short knives and testing its edge against his thumb almost subconsciously. With this motion, the direction his mind had wandered became suspect when he asked, "I suppose you haven't seen old man Montana yet. Probably still slinking around acting mysterious. Unless he's taken another unexplained haitus?" And it came painfully clear when he added, wryly, "And any idea where one might find your great and marvelous showman this morning?" because Pierrot was the only one who could portal him to the prisoner.
The setting changes from Helton to Liberty Base Alpha A
Selim realized that this visitation was unwise and unnecessary. He had to extricate himself from the situation. So he tried to answer Colt's question the best as he could.
"Thank you for your quick answer, but it wasn't a question for you," Selim said to Colt. "Whatever, forgive me my intrusion, I'm Selim Sharp. I am going to establish my first independent loboratory. The authority granted me a not used place near the training rooms. We are going to start some extreme makeover in a few minutes. The laboratory will be on the ground floor, but I worry that noise which we will do could disturb your lessons." Selim looked on his tablet in a hurry to read the description of the training that Colt and Samon started over an hour ago. As every employee of Liberty Base Alpha he had access to such information stored on a public database. "Don't pay your attention to the noise, please. I promise I won't be a nuisance." Selim smilled a little and went directly to the exit. Before he went out he told Colt: "Agent Colt, I will be very satisfied if you come to the laboratory and confirm that everything is consistent with the protocol of safety. And you also can visit this place, Samon." Selim had read the names of his interlocutors from the description before he said that. After this short conversation he left the room.
Behind the door Selim looked around and noticed that almost every corridor has a camera connected with a microphone. It was evident that Liberty faction wants to know everything about everyone, so he needs to change his approach. Selim took his pocket device, removed all his voice notes and turned it off. He didn't want to be predictable anymore because such behavior could be danger for him. He also abandoned his previous plans. The device was similar to the cell phone, so it couldn't payed the attention of the staff.
After a few minutes Selim was in front of the main door to the laboratory on the first floor. He went in to this place, it looks like a not used and forgotten workshop. The space was quite large and this was the most important feature. Selim turned directly to the repair crew that stayed behind him. "Today we will do the first step into the new chapter of history of our faction. Together we could cause that the future will arrive faster than you ever expected. Do you help me!?"
The works were started, knocks of hammers and not only were heard outside.
"Thank you for your quick answer, but it wasn't a question for you," Selim said to Colt. "Whatever, forgive me my intrusion, I'm Selim Sharp. I am going to establish my first independent loboratory. The authority granted me a not used place near the training rooms. We are going to start some extreme makeover in a few minutes. The laboratory will be on the ground floor, but I worry that noise which we will do could disturb your lessons." Selim looked on his tablet in a hurry to read the description of the training that Colt and Samon started over an hour ago. As every employee of Liberty Base Alpha he had access to such information stored on a public database. "Don't pay your attention to the noise, please. I promise I won't be a nuisance." Selim smilled a little and went directly to the exit. Before he went out he told Colt: "Agent Colt, I will be very satisfied if you come to the laboratory and confirm that everything is consistent with the protocol of safety. And you also can visit this place, Samon." Selim had read the names of his interlocutors from the description before he said that. After this short conversation he left the room.
Behind the door Selim looked around and noticed that almost every corridor has a camera connected with a microphone. It was evident that Liberty faction wants to know everything about everyone, so he needs to change his approach. Selim took his pocket device, removed all his voice notes and turned it off. He didn't want to be predictable anymore because such behavior could be danger for him. He also abandoned his previous plans. The device was similar to the cell phone, so it couldn't payed the attention of the staff.
After a few minutes Selim was in front of the main door to the laboratory on the first floor. He went in to this place, it looks like a not used and forgotten workshop. The space was quite large and this was the most important feature. Selim turned directly to the repair crew that stayed behind him. "Today we will do the first step into the new chapter of history of our faction. Together we could cause that the future will arrive faster than you ever expected. Do you help me!?"
The works were started, knocks of hammers and not only were heard outside.
The setting changes from Liberty Base Alpha A to The Wasteland
Kayla followed Mina and the others out of the kitchen, a grimace on her face. She had bit back a reply to Spire's little joke about Dutch. Now wasn't the time to start another argument. It was time to make sure they weren't receiving unpleasant company.
Hearing Mina's question, she looked over at the medic with an uncertain expression. "Hopefully not, since it seems to be one person, according to Toby." She answered. "You can never be too careful." She watched as the woman pulled out her handgun and she frowned a bit. "Though, I wouldn't have weapons drawn just yet when we find them." She added hesitantly. "We wouldn't want to set them off at the sight of them before it's necessary."
Hearing Mina's question, she looked over at the medic with an uncertain expression. "Hopefully not, since it seems to be one person, according to Toby." She answered. "You can never be too careful." She watched as the woman pulled out her handgun and she frowned a bit. "Though, I wouldn't have weapons drawn just yet when we find them." She added hesitantly. "We wouldn't want to set them off at the sight of them before it's necessary."
(Sorry, suffering from a bit of writers block right now, best I could do)
Jake had to admit, he was a bit curious about the people in front of him. Of course, he always expected to meet a few people, but three in close proximity already most likely meant a larger group in the area, so it meant that right now the area was pretty active, considering. He decided to play it safe and cool for the moment tho, since it didn't seem like anyone wanted any hostilities right now.
"Nice to meet you Gale, Talin, Sera. Also, really? That's what the monsters do?" Jake asked, before smiling a little. His voice suddenly calmed, and he closed his eyes a little. "If that's all, then you must have the situation well under control. Guess there is no reason to be worried about danger then. And thanks for the warning". Of course, there may or may not have been some other meaning to his words, but nothing hostile.
"Anyways, you don't need to worry either" he then added. It was probably his most direct statement yet. "I don't plan on staying long".
Jake had to admit, he was a bit curious about the people in front of him. Of course, he always expected to meet a few people, but three in close proximity already most likely meant a larger group in the area, so it meant that right now the area was pretty active, considering. He decided to play it safe and cool for the moment tho, since it didn't seem like anyone wanted any hostilities right now.
"Nice to meet you Gale, Talin, Sera. Also, really? That's what the monsters do?" Jake asked, before smiling a little. His voice suddenly calmed, and he closed his eyes a little. "If that's all, then you must have the situation well under control. Guess there is no reason to be worried about danger then. And thanks for the warning". Of course, there may or may not have been some other meaning to his words, but nothing hostile.
"Anyways, you don't need to worry either" he then added. It was probably his most direct statement yet. "I don't plan on staying long".
The setting changes from The Wasteland to Helton
Kayla’s commentary drew a sideways glance and half-smile from Mina. The younger woman was right to be wary, given recent history, but the insinuation that the doctor would come out pointing her gun like a finger still stung.
“I ain’t quite that kind of stupid, sugar,” she replied, her tone free from sarcasm or malice. Her stance and expression were easy and forgiving, showing that no offense had been taken.
Not that she was in a place to take offense, anyhow.
There was a soft click as Mina snapped the magazine back into the pistol and checked the safety, and the weapon was returned to the back of her waistband. “Just checking ammunition, is all. Rather not get caught with an empty chamber when it counts.”
She pushed onward through the main building’s exit, and the old doors gave a groaning creak like an old woman’s joints as the lock bar was shoved open. The hazy rust-gold of Ash light streamed into the hall, serving as a last-minute reminder of what they were walking into outside of the relatively cozy halls of the facility. The smell of dust was quick to kick up into Mina's nostrils, as well as the faint lingering of death that never seemed to wash out of the city walls.
The medic gave the door quick hip check as she passed to bump it open for those following behind her, and she cast a glance over her shoulder.
Decent shots and fighters, and a good handful of them— It was always better to bring too many than too few when there was an unknown variable involved.
She slowed down just a step to fall into stride beside the others rather an in front of them, and found herself walking next to Kayla once more. “I trust when Toby says there's only one,” she added to the group, “but only one don’t mean you ain’t getting ambushed.”
“I ain’t quite that kind of stupid, sugar,” she replied, her tone free from sarcasm or malice. Her stance and expression were easy and forgiving, showing that no offense had been taken.
Not that she was in a place to take offense, anyhow.
There was a soft click as Mina snapped the magazine back into the pistol and checked the safety, and the weapon was returned to the back of her waistband. “Just checking ammunition, is all. Rather not get caught with an empty chamber when it counts.”
She pushed onward through the main building’s exit, and the old doors gave a groaning creak like an old woman’s joints as the lock bar was shoved open. The hazy rust-gold of Ash light streamed into the hall, serving as a last-minute reminder of what they were walking into outside of the relatively cozy halls of the facility. The smell of dust was quick to kick up into Mina's nostrils, as well as the faint lingering of death that never seemed to wash out of the city walls.
The medic gave the door quick hip check as she passed to bump it open for those following behind her, and she cast a glance over her shoulder.
Decent shots and fighters, and a good handful of them— It was always better to bring too many than too few when there was an unknown variable involved.
She slowed down just a step to fall into stride beside the others rather an in front of them, and found herself walking next to Kayla once more. “I trust when Toby says there's only one,” she added to the group, “but only one don’t mean you ain’t getting ambushed.”
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View All » Add Character » 81 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Daevas
"I got you to look after me and you got me to look after you and that's why."
Agent Mayday
Liberty and Death
Olive
A little girl who loves her "parents".
Ava Thean
Councilor of Liberty Training
Tessa Avalon
Innocence mixed with Malice
Derrick Avalon
Cold Sunglass Wearing Bastard
Rick Ronin
"If your belief is worth dying for, it's worth killing for."
James Grimori
"Damien, why are you such a handful?"
Trending
Cecelia Brocktree
"If you don't have the strength to be happy, at least smile for everyone else's sake"
Lindsey Nightingale
Naive, playful blonde with a side-shave
Clockwork Pelacour
"No side is strictly 'right' or 'wrong'; only a blurred grey."
Kayla Chandler
The wolf shifter is shy and quiet...until she bites
Dawn Memoli
"Tomorrow will be a better day."
Blaze Moonfall
"The light reveals the truth, but it can also blind you from it."
Faye Dimevih
"For a better, brighter future! For Liberty!"
Cadriel
Praises for our past triumphs are as feathers to a dead bird.
Nathan Chandler
Please don't call him Wolfy
Most Followed
Reith
"It's what's inside that counts. For instance, my insides are green and have teeth."
Sierra Iclosis
"Sera... Didn't you promise never to leave me behind...?"
Elliot Barnett
"My hair is not stupid"
Ava Thean
Councilor of Liberty Training
Kayla Chandler
The wolf shifter is shy and quiet...until she bites
Id Gormly
"It's the thought that counts."
Kora Norrevinter
I know one thing that does not die, the judgement of a dead man's life.
Hel
Scary things come in small packages.
View All » Places
49 posts · 36 characters present · last post 2016-11-29 03:42:35 »
An apocalyptic landscape, most of it is covered by ash, earning the nickname "The Ashland"
33 posts · 11 characters present · last post 2016-11-21 01:33:07 »
Welcome to Liberty Base Alpha A. We hope you have a productive stay. This is a place for work, not play. Cheer for Liberty, hip hip hooray.
51 posts · 15 characters present · last post 2016-11-04 03:40:46 »
The Citadel Owner: ianna_334
The pinnacle of Erubesco glory, don't let the medieval inspiration distract you from the technological marvels it hides
30 posts · 19 characters present · last post 2016-11-03 06:15:09 »
The Wasteland ↪ Helton Owner: ianna_334
A nice safe place to rest... If you don't mind death, decay, and skeletons.
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Liberty Information
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Erubesco Information
by scoundrelboots on Sat May 07, 2016 1:34 am
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