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The Ward Unit

Earth

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a part of The Ward Unit, by MadMax.

None

MadMax holds sovereignty over Earth, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

972 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

inspired by, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119116/

Setting

Default Location for The Ward Unit
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Earth

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Minimap

Earth is a part of The Ward Unit.

8 Characters Here

Gala Sokolov [2] "What's everyone so serious about?"
Shepherd Q. Parker [1] "Ha. Ha. Ha. My first name is also a last name. Big freaking whoop."
Eve Loraine [1] "_EvE_ was my first account. Kinda wish I could still use it."
Josie Taylor-Axworth [1] "Some of us actually have something to fight for." ~ Josie Taylor-Axworth
Maverick Byrnes [1] "I suggest that you take this seriously." ~ Rick
Falon Stryker [1] "Frankly, I don't care." ~ Falon
Chris Astryyn [1] "Pilot extraordinaire, baby. Oh, come on, I just paid for that drink."
Andromeda Valentine [0] Care-free or uncaring. You decide.

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Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Falon Stryker
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#, as written by MadMax
The Letter sent to all members of the Ward.


To whom it may concern,

By the request of the President of the United States, the special ops military unit codenamed the Ward has now been reopened. The president requires all former members of the Ward to come out of retirement and report to the military headquarters in New York City on the Friday of November 3rd at 10 am. It is a matter of urgency and must be treated as so. If any members fail to report to the headquarters on the listed date then they will be arrested and taken into custody where their fate will be decided in trail.

Sincerely,
United States Government




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Specialty: Physical Strength || Dialogue: #9E0A07


“Turn the fucking music off!” Falon screamed as he pounded his fists on the wall between his apartment and his neighbors. He had been woken up every morning for the past week by the loud music next door and it was going to end today.

With the music still playing, Falon charged out of his apartment in nothing but a pair of boxers. He positioned himself in front of his neighbor's door and began banging on the metal. “Come out here you asshole!”

Still no answer. Falon gritted his teeth and walked back into his apartment. The back beat from the song was so loud, it was shaking his dresser that was leaning against the wall. He looked at the wall, thinking, debating.

To hell with it.

Falon took off at full speed towards the wall, putting his shoulder forward to give him more power. A pop could be heard as he busted through the wall. These walls really are thin, he thought.

Slowly and menacingly, Falon stood up, pieces of plaster falling out of his hair as walked through the dust. At the table in front of him sat a man staring in shock at the spectacle. Falon ignored him and trudged towards the electrical unit in the man's house. With one punch he left a gaping hole in the box and then ripped out all the cords he could see. Effectively shutting off the music and the power in the man's house.

Happy with his work he sighed in contentment. He shook the plaster and dust from his hair and went to step back through the hole he had created. Before he re-entered his apartment though, he looked back at the man who was still frozen in place and said, "You might want to get this fixed."

After that, he headed for his pack of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it. Cigarette still in his mouth, he grabbed a food packet labeled 'deluxe breakfast' and stuck in the microwave. He pulled it out after only one second and had a full plate of pancakes, bacon, and his personal favorite, eggs. Then he grabbed a gallon of milk from the fridge and sat down at his small metal table. He put his cigarette out in the ashtray before eating.

Since he works as a bouncer at a club, his shifts are always at night, so he had only been home for a couple of hours. Falon hated that his life was based on a schedule, the same boring things happening every day. Even busting that wall up wasn't enough to entertain him.

Just as he had thought that, a letter came through the mail chute that sat right by his window. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he sat down his fork and picked the letter up.

"The United States Government?" he muttered.

Opening up the letter, he quickly read through its contents. Then to make sure he hadn't misread anything, he read through it again. He hadn't, they were bringing the Ward back together.

"Hell yeah!" he cheered out loud.

Falon had missed the life he had back then. It was always filled with excitement and danger, whereas his life now was dreadfully boring. The letter honestly couldn't have come at a better time.

He rushed to his bedroom, packing up his essentials. He was more than ready to leave this hellhole. As he packed however, he realized that the government was bringing back all of the members. Meaning that Falon would have to face the same people he knew five years ago, or more accurately, that he would have to face Josie.

He cringed at the thought, not wanting to see her after she cut him out of her life. Maybe being in the Ward again wouldn't be as great as he thought.

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Josie Taylor-Axworth
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Specialty: Disguises || Dialogue: #B219AD




Josie was up seconds before the alarm clock was set to go off. The thing was set to wake her and her husband every day at 6:45. enough time for both of them to wrangle the two boys into their school uniforms and have a quick breakfast before bringing them to school. However, today was Saturday. That meant the four of them would cook breakfast as a family before deciding how to spend their day. Most people preferred the 'instant' breakfast, which was handy, but the quality time cooking with family doesn't happen with the instant food. It doesn't make memories. Looking at said husband, he was still asleep. Josie stroked his slightly curled hair. It's always a mess in the morning and never brushed. Despite being a prominent doctor, he looked more like a scruffy puppy which probably helped considering he works with children. Josie smiled amused, how did she get so lucky to have this man in her life.

"If you keep staring, I'll start to think I have a stalker." His eyes were still shut, but the corners of Edward's mouth were upturned.

"You obviously didn't mind if you decided to marry me." Josie's voice was soft and affectionate. Edward was never serious this early in the morning. A little banter before waking up the boys is pretty common. A chuckle escaped from the doctor's lips as opening his dark green eyes. How those eyes managed to look serious and playful was still a mystery.

"I've dated worse." That response got a pillow to face, curtesy of Josie. Edward laughed louder, but not as loud as the sound of feet approaching. The door to the bedroom was flung open with two, smaller figures standing at the door. Two blonde heads scrambled towards the bed, one holding a box and the other holding what looked like today's mail. A twin pair of blue eyes and each with a matching grin cuddle up to one of the adults in the bed.

"Mommy! Daddy! We got the mail! Daddy, our drone came in!" Josie would've groaned at the mention of yet another 'build it yourself' toy for Fitz, but his little smile was contagious. Fitz, also known as Fitzgerald, was the youngest of Josie's two boys. He turned three not to long ago and been obsessed with flying machines lately. Despite his small size, the boy had a huge mind. He inherited both Edward's and Josie's intelligence, learning to speak articulately by two. The little Einstein was curled up next to his dad, excitedly pointing at the directions on how to construct his new toy.

"More like I got it! You wouldn't step out of outside, saying it was scary!" Hunter was a bit more complicated. While thinking of Edward as his dad, his true father was... well... not Edward. While Josie was grateful both boys took after her physically, they both had their father's personality. While Fitz is cautious, considerate, and calm, Hunter was opinionated, loud, and has a bit of a temper. It could be challenging at times, but Hunter was also protective, passionate, and a sweetheart inside. Both of them were perfect. Josie wouldn't change a thing about either of them.

While Fitz and Edward talked excitedly about their newest project, Josie and Hunter sorted through the letters. Hunter liked to keep things organized, including the mail. The mail was typical: bills, free trials, work related, a letter from the school about Hunter acting up, all normal. One letter addressed with what looked like a Presidential Seal caught Josie's attention. With Hunter in her lap and reading the letter along with her, Josie began to tense up. 'Now? Why now... It's been five years.' The team separated years ago and Josie thought that part of her life was over. What did the government want with her now?

"Mommy? What's wrong?" Hunter's blue eyes looked up at her in confusion. While Hunter could read, he didn't understand the words and their meanings. Hunter's question caught the attention of Edward and Fitz too. "Nothing, sweetie. I just need to talk to Daddy. Why don't you and Fitz go with Hayes and decide what to eat for breakfast. We'll be out in a minute." At the sound of his name, Hayes called out in his English accent. "Let's prepare breakfast! Come along, Mister Hunter and Mister Fitzgerald." Hayes was the first A.I. Josie brought. One of the models for Josie's fashion line is married to an inventor who was trying to create an A.I. who can not only be at home, but mobile as well. Josie decided she and her family would test it out and have used Hayes ever since. He's connected to everything in the house and can control everything. He almost acts like a second adult in the house which is great when it contains two young boys.

With a shrug of nonchalance, Hunter and Fitz exited the bedroom and went to the kitchen. Josie sighed out loud, trying to think how she would explain this to Edward and eventually the boys. Edward knew of Josie's past with the Ward, but she didn't mention the significance of one of the members of the team. He did have some thoughts of who Hunter's biological father was, but never brought it up. Neither one would be happy for Josie's revoked retirement. The thought of going back to the Ward wasn't horrible. The action and thrill of it was fantastic, but she has a different life now. Josie wasn't worried about seeing the team again. She missed Chris's jokes, debating with Shepherd, teasing Maverick, and caring for Eve. Gala and her still kept in touch, but not too often. The two of them could destroy the world together if they wanted to. Despite all of these friendly faces, Josie wasn't ready to Falon. The two of them reuniting would be the equivalent to a bomb going off. How will she look at him and not picture Hunter? The President has no idea what he is about to unleash.

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Chris Astryyn
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Specialty: Piloting || Dialogue: #1E79E6






Chris woke up to the sound of his alarm going off for the fourth time that morning. That meant it was the noon alarm, and he decided now was as good a time as any to actually get up. His stomach agreed with him, growling as he sat up in bed. "Yeah, yeah, food. Am I thinking eggs and bacon or a burger for breakfast...or is it lunch?" His stomach growled again, impatiently, "Alright, fine, I'll eat whatever I grab," he said standing. Chris moved his way over to the fridge, which had numerous bottles of different beers and ales, and wine? Oh right, for her...moving on. He then opened the pantry which held the instant meal packets, glossed through them and eventually selected the 'Standard Lunch - Chili and Cheese' packet, tossed it into the microwave and pulled out his lunch. He moved the warm meal over to the couch in the center of his apartment, sat down, and had to get back up again to retrieve the mail, whose reminder bell had just beeped. "Fridly-whacking mail bell, stopping my damn..." Chris began. He saw the official lettering on the expensive envelope amid his usual bills and spam mail. He knew who it was from, but he couldn't bring himself to open it. His stomach growled.

"After lunch, you expensive piece of paper you."

Chris turned on his television and channel surfed while eating, stopping at the soap opera channel for a moment. "Oh John, how could you do this to me?" the character on screen asked. "Oh John, why? WHY? What ever nefarious attempt have you made?" Chris mimicked, switching the channel again to sports. As he finished his meal, his mind wandered back to the letter on his desk. Well, table really, but it fit so nicely with his office chair -- the desk...table, the letter on the table.

Chris reluctantly stood up, cleaned his meal up, and walked over to the table/desk. He sorted through his mail as any sentient being with mail would, "Bill, bill, spam, I've won a vacation? Hey, this is actually from Bill, I should write him back, and you," he finished, lifting the letter he simultaneously dreaded and hoped for. "What do you have in store for me?"

He opened the letter, and read it slowly. "Y'know, you fridly-whacking mail bell, you, I didn't appreciate you interrupting my meal so coincidentally; and I still don't, so don't think you're in the clear yet. But, this is worth getting up for. Just this one, the others are crap, even the one from Bill," Chris ranted to himself as if talking to his mail bell.

"Are you talking to your mail?" a feminine voice asked, sleepily. Chris looked to his bed where the owner of the voice lay, "On the contrary, my mail was talking to me. And it says that I've got fancy new shit to fly, baby. Fancy new shit on the government's dollar."

Of course, it also meant that he would have to reunite with his old teammates. All five...wait, he's one, and there was...all seven of his former teammates. He could recite their names right now, he remembered it like it were yesterd- "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Chris said, interrupting his thoughts. Although, it will be nice to see some familiar faces,
he thought. The only question was what would they have him flying?

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shepherd Q. Parker
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Specialtiy: Intelligence || Dialogue Color: #318C4E






One, two, three, four, five...

One, two, three, four, five...

One, two, three, four, five...

Shepherd always had to count them out when he did this, make sure every single one was in its place. He didn't want a repeat of last year's incident, not when he had finally begun to do so well. Sure, he could just invest in one of those services that rationed out the pills for him, but he felt much better having this kind of control over the process.

Finished with his task, Shep took the afternoon's pills in his hand and gulped them all back in one swallow, chasing them with a scant mouthful of soda. At least, it was originally soda, but it had been sitting on the counter for two or three days now and more closely resembled water and syrup. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he pulled a disgusted face and trashed the soda. 'Don't make that mistake again.'

The apartment was a cramped, dusty little thing that smelled of grease and day old takeout. Robot parts laid scattered on practically every available surface and the walls were lined with books. Old take out containers and drinks peppered the countertop. Sure, the instant meals were good but there was a certain nostalgic, vintage-feel to take out.

His latest project adopted the table as its new home, the vague form of a humanoid spread out across it. It looked cold, lifeless, and Shep hated looking at it, but it was his next money making machine and the quicker he finished it the quicker he could reclaim his table and get it out of sight.

A knock at the door captured his attention, causing him to shuffle through the sea of chaos and look at the screen just beside the door hooked up to the camera outside. Relief. Just the mailman.

They still received mail by courier out here and his particular mailman was always kind enough to come to the door with packages. Shepherd could see a graciously sized one tucked underneath the man's arm. 'Must be the new servos I ordered.'

He opened the door and the mailman greeted him with a smile while handing over the package and the rest of the day's mail. He tipped his hat and requested that Shep "have a nice day" and headed back to his vehicle.

Shep set the package atop the table by the mangled robot. 'I'll get to it when I have time. A common thought, and somehow there was never enough time.

He shuffled through the other letters. Bills, spam, magazines, but only one caught his eyes. The envelope was thin yet heavy and the paper felt nice beneath his fingertips. And the seal...

Of course he recognized the seal. He could never forget that seal, and all the memories of a past life that went with it. With trembling fingers, he ripped open the envelope and retrieved the letter within.

His eyes scanned over the letter and, despite his high reading skill and comprehension level, he actually had to read it again.

The Ward was coming back?

A mixture of emotions, one right after the other and some on top of each other. Satisfaction. Joy. Fear. Anxiety. Regret. He felt like a different person from the one in The Ward all those years ago. But deep down, he couldn't deny he hadn't really changed at all.

He didn't have any doubt he was going, of course not. A steady paycheck and a chance to stretch his mind once more? He could never pass that up. He felt out of practice and out of the loop, but nothing a little reading couldn't catch him up on.

Time to hit the books.

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gala Sokolov
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#, as written by Mirona
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Speciality: Stealth || Dialogue:#E3662B




As the late morning sun streamed through the apartment window, Gala finally let her head fall back onto the pillow. She had just come back from a long, nighttime heist with the incompetent men of New York’s finest Russian-American mob. She could admit that everyone had their strengths and weaknesses, but these men had been horrible at their job -nearly killing the job midway through- and the heist had been a relatively easy one. In the end, Gala had to do most of the work herself while those morons stood guard, as per usual.

Gala breathed in and let out a long sigh. ‘At least it’s over now. They got the information they wanted,’ she thought. Gala reached down and ran her hand over the envelope near her, smiling mischievously to herself. ’And I got what I wanted.”


Inside the envelop was a good amount of money that could get her through the next few months if another job failed to come along. ’The life I always dreamed of right?

Since the Ward had shut down, Gala had been stuck doing odd jobs for the Russian-American mafia. Their boss, Ivan Petrov disliked Gala but she was good at her job, and Petrov had made a promise to her father that he would protect Gala and her brothers, Alexei and Yuri, while they were in America. Gala thought of her father and how much she missed him, and her mother, and her two other brothers back in Moscow. She absentmindedly ran her hand over the scar that ran across her abdomen -the reason her father had sent her to America. Her kidnapping was over 10 years past, but it was still fresh in her memory.

Gala shook herself out of her own mind and sat up straight in bed. Even though she had not slept the night before, she knew that she needed to keep herself awake for most of the day or else her sleep schedule would be messed up. She grabbed the envelope of money she had received and made her way to the bathroom. In the bathroom, Gala looked at herself in the mirror. She looked haggard with her red hair frizzy, strands falling out of her ponytail. Gala splashed some water in her face and then looked back at the mirror, this time placing her palm on the right portion of the mirror. A light flashed around her hand as her palm was read. A short series of beeps and then Gala stepped back to allow the mirror to swing open into a wide vault. Gal placed the money inside and closed the mirror again. She had a good chunk of about $30,000 stored in the vault. It was too much money to be carrying around and it was too much to put in the bank without suspicion, so the money stayed in a vault that only gala could open.

Gala turned on the shower to the hottest setting and stepped out of the bathroom to grab her towel. However, as she neared the bathroom door again, a letter on her nightstand caught her eye. She had taken in the mail when she’d returned home as usual. Her mail was always mostly flyers and pamphlets that people had dropped in the mailbox, or the occasional bill addressed to Gala Redmond, her American pseudonym. What caught her eye was the letter addressed to Gala Sokolov, her real name, with no address -meaning someone had dropped it off by hand. Upon closer inspection, Gala saw that the return address was a stamp for the US government.

Gala quickly walked to the bathroom and turned the shower off before rushing back out and grabbing the letter. She sat cross-legged at the edge of her bed and stared at the envelope. A letter from the US government could either be a good thing -commending her for her time in the Ward, albeit that would be five years too late- or a horrible thing -telling her that her years of less than lawful acts had consequences. Gala guessed the latter, and she had already began to mentally prepare herself to pick up her life and move somewhere new. In any case, there was no use waiting to see what was inside. She ripped open the envelope rather aggressively and opened the letter inside.

After skimming the letter, Gala shook her head in disbelief and reread it a second time, this time more thoroughly. ’They want us back?’ Gala questioned to herself. ’Why the hell do they want us back?’

Gala placed the letter gingerly on the bed beside her and ran her hands through her disheveled hair. The Ward had been a type of family for so long. A dysfunctional, bitter family brought together by money and bribery, but a family no less. They had worked well together, and they had been a team that Gala had trusted for once -much unlike the teams of Russian-Americans that she worked with on a regular basis now. The only member that Gala had spoken to in the last five years was Josie. After the birth of her son, Gala had felt the need to make sure that Josie was alright, and after that, they had kept in touch occasionally. Aside from Josie, Gala had kept tabs on the other members out of loyalty and duty, if only to make sure that nothing bad happened to them. But the thought of actually seeing them and working with them again gave Gala a strange feeling. She was a criminal now in the most plain of ways. She broke the law for a living. How was she to explain to them what she did now? And how could she work for the government when she so plainly disregarded their laws?

Of course, the Ward would give her a break from the monotonous jobs and heists she pulled on the regular -and she was glad for that. But what would she tell her family? They had not liked to idea of her working for the government, but they had accepted it when she was promised immunity for herself and her brothers. Still, everyone, especially Gala’s father, had been glad to see the Ward broken up. It meant that Gala could return to safety under the wings of the Russian-American mafia. But Gala didn’t want to be safe. She wanted to have fun and exploit her talents to the best of her ability. She wanted to work with a team that could give her some competition, a team that could keep her on her toes. But most importantly, Gala wanted to feel purpose.

Glancing back at the letter beside her, Gala smirked. 'Well, this should be fun'

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Maverick Byrnes
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#, as written by MadMax
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Specialty: Guns/Weaponry || Dialogue: #121757


Having just got back from his daily jog, Maverick went to take a shower and wash off the sweat from his body. Never one to waste time, He was in and out in five minutes.

After he had gotten dressed, he grabbed the bag of food that he had picked up on his way back to his apartment, and sat down on his couch. He ate in complete silence, the only sound that could be heard was the sound of him quietly chewing. Rick had a T.V. that he could have turned on, but he rarely used it. He found the noise to be distracting and had never been good at using technology anyways.

Most people had fancy high tech systems in their houses, but Rick’s apartment was about as old school as you could get during  this time. It wasn’t that he disliked technology, he simply didn’t understand it. His sisters always had to help with that kind of stuff and he felt awkward asking them for help.

There was only one thing in the world that made complete sense to Rick and that was guns. Sure he hadn’t used one in five years, but he knew that his time away from them wouldn’t hinder his skill.

After he finished his breakfast, he went to collect his mail. He didn't have much, mostly bills. He did however, receive a fancy looking envelope with an official seal on it. His brows drew together in confusion as he wondered why the government was contacting him

After he read the message about the Ward, his mind pondered over what this meant for him. He wouldn’t be leaving much behind. His job, which while he liked it, it wasn’t something that he cared too much about. As for his family, it wasn’t like he visited them daily anyways so him leaving for awhile wouldn’t really effect them that much.

The best part about being in the Ward again is that he would get to use his guns, which he missed dearly. He looked at the ones that hung on his wall now, admiring them. Walking up to his sniper he pulled it down from the wall, testing its weight by tossing it back in forth lightly in his hands. Pulling it over his shoulder, he looked through the scope, his finger already itching to pull the trigger.

That was all it took for Rick to know that he was ready to come out of retirement.

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eve Loraine
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Specialty: Hacking || Dialogue: #DAA520






When Eve received the letter, it was her second time reading it.

"Miss Eve, your name has appeared in one secured databank," her AI, ION informed her. "What databank, ION?" she asked while still typing, hacking into something or other, it didn't matter now. "The databank belongs to an aliased username, which you've dete-" ION was interrupted, "-rmined to be a United States government agent. A very prominent one, and one of the few who know and have access to the records involving the Ward," Eve continued as she was looking through the databank. She found the file containing her name, and after a few moments of cutting through red tape, decrypting, and tricking the software, she was faced with the letter that was just sent to all previous members of the Ward, alongside their (updated) profiles.

She was not surprised when she received the letter, nor was she disturbed. She had no connections in the outside world, little property to hinder her, and at any point, she could simply not have existed in her location. Although, she was...torn about being brought out of retirement. While it was true that she enjoyed her work in the unit, the government never truly learned the full extent of her reach, or exactly who she was. Needless to say, various government agencies don't appreciate having partial information, but she imagined they would not like what they found should they discover the truth.

Regardless, she decided that hiding her tracks over the Net was easier than remaining a ghost in reality. And so, with a few key presses, she had never lived in her current apartment, which has been under maintenance for the past few months, and she had purchased a plane ticket to New York one week prior for a flight tonight.

At least, that's what the records showed.