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Artemis Cheshire

"Do you fear the Reaper?"

0 · 105 views · located in The Wastelands

a character in “Wasteland Records: Trials of Genetic Decay”, as played by Lanaya

Description

ImageGeneral:
Name: Artemis Cheshire, often referred to as "Reaper".
Race: Splicer
Role:The Headhunter
Age: 26
Gender: Female

Description:
Artemis is a slender, fair Caucasian woman weighing 123lbs and standing 5’8 amidst the dunes of the Wasteland. The harsh life endured by all denizens of the hostile barrens has made Artemis adapt fairly well with regards to physical conditioning, making up what she lacks in base strength with a lithe finesse that has made her a very capable tracker. However, she is surprisingly strong for a woman her size.

She has green eyes and blond hair, more than often sporting it up in a ponytail for practicality sake. When not exposed to the hostile environment of the Wastes, Artemis usually wanders around in her casual attire: greyish-blue commando pants, black boots and a grey tank top. A taser in an aged brown leather holster is kept at her hip at all times, for ease of access should anything go awry.

At all times Artemis keeps her bow with her, slung rightly over her shoulder. A quiver of makeshift arrows hangs horizontally behind her at her beltline, concealed by the length of her cloak. The sheath (ultimately a collection of ragged leather and tanned animal hides) for her yatagan crosses over her back. All of Artemis' equipment is fastened tightly to her body, as to completely negate the risk of losing any of her items.

When out on Wasteland excursions, Artemis' choice of equipment differs to that more suiting to the inimical atmosphere. Her armor appears as sleek, specific places offering extra protection where need be. Made of a flexible blackish gray material, the armor provides suffice protection against blasting sands, scorching weather, even proving capable against long ranged projectiles, though lacking defensive ability in close ranged scenarios. A grey ragged cloak drapes over her figure to offer further protection while out in the Wastes and to mask edges from her outline. In addition to the suit, she wears green lensed goggles and covers her face with a mask-like filter apparatus.

Personality:
Cold, tact, and calculating, Artemis' personality matches that of any typical hired hand. She can be seen as cynical to some, having a critical look on a varying degree of topics. For the right price Artemis will do almost anything, spare for those things against her belief system. That said, her belief system includes murder, theft, intimidation, conspiracy and stalking -- upon proper grounds. The Wasteland is changing the truth of law, rendering past enforcement techniques obsolete. There is only one just law and that is vigilante justice, taking back what is rightfully yours and dealing consequence appropriately. One of her mentors taught Artemis an important lesson on equivalent exchange. Fire with fire. Hate for hate. Blood for blood.

As far as alignment goes Artemis can be most closely categorized as Chaotic Neutral. She is not completely evil, nor is she arbitrarily cruel, only driven by personal gain when the profit is good and the reason sensible. She does not prey on society at large for pleasure at others torment, only doing so when her own survival is at risk. At times she might go out of her way to protect the innocent, assuming you could find someone that qualifies as innocent in her eyes. With this said she is certainly not a saint either. She will cheerfully torture and murder her foes. Fear is her chief weapon.

Cool and mysterious, Artemis is not afraid to speak her voice if a subject pulls for her opinion. She tends to create a persona of extreme seriousness, her assignments placed at the highest priority. Some of her former teammates never see past that stage, those who have claim Artemis as witty, sarcastic and at times a smart ass, much to the aggravation of those hiring her. Her demeanor is very controlled and is rarely prone to outbursts or sudden surges in emotion. Seasoned in her field of work, age, progression and experience has made Artemis somewhat softer to when she had first started. Artemis is more open to understanding when particular circumstances arise as opposed to her beginnings where there was only an assignment and a designated date. Despite her changes she still remains locked up in her beliefs, refusing to negotiate in that regard.

One of these beliefs link closely to her disgust with cannibals. Mostly unfeeling and empty to any qualms they might carry, Artemis attests to their existence, a hatred first starting from when she was a young child. An astute believer of vigilante justice, Artemis can be emotionally cold. She is occasionally known for her brevity and tact. Though used to working alone, she does have experience in team settings, but never have they been long.

ImageReputation:
Renown in the Wastes for her methodical approaches to her profession, Artemis has arisen a distinct infamy among even previous clients that have called upon her service. She is known to excel at infiltration and stalking, equally efficient in both. Word spreads slowly about her cunning, including her dangerous skill. Her reputation precedes her: Artemis' greatest weapon is fear. Targets know too well how Artemis will savor the kill, driving them insane with fearful apprehension before striking. A story is told of how Artemis managed to kill a target without any lethal exertion on her part. The target knew she was coming, all Artemis had to do was subtly show she was present. Knocking on windows, footsteps in the night, anything to break the will of her intended kill. It ended with him taking his own life unable to bear the psychological torment any longer.

On the law side of things, Artemis' calling has many a time gotten on their bad side. Relatively staying away from places with great Ranger influence. She is a known criminal to those wearing the badge. Known as "Reaper" for a reason, Artemis is both mysterious and deadly like the enigmatic deity her handle alludes to. She was caught almost, serious wounds being inflicted upon her but she managed to escape. Artemis promised herself she would never be in a vulnerable position again.

An echoing legend in the Wasteland, some travelers speak of black ribbons handed out to those Artemis has befriended or has intent on keeping alive. Though a very subtle symbol granting no realistic protection, recipients mostly don it for intimidation. Of course, not everybody in the Wastes has heard of Artemis or her black ribbons. Those who have murdered wearers however are never alive long, for to Artemis hunting has become almost a game. Only a few PKs, various impoverished folk across the Wastes, and former teammates have ever been given this gift.

Equipment

Hostile Environment Suit - A suit she scavenged from an abandoned laboratory, it has been useful in providing extra protection against the hostile environment of the wastes. Shielding from long ranged projectiles, blasting sand and sporadic temperature, the suit offers a semblance of safety in the treacherous Wastelands.

"Strife" - Artemis' yatagan is a proven weapon, especially in close combat. Always sharpened to near-perfection, Strife has proven ever useful during assignments. Artemis colored the blade black to conceal any shine during the day.

Composite Bow - The main weapon in Artemis' arsenal that is only ever used in mid to long range engagements. Artemis mastered its use at a young age, and ever since then the bow has proven faithful. Its greatest advantages are the quick, silent kills it is capable of. Made of sturdy material, what it lacks in strength it makes up for in stealthy precision.

Nightvision Capability - Though aged, worn and glitched, these night vision goggles provide basic vision in the dark. Figures and outlines are very vague, but detailed enough to identify an individual from the surroundings. Only lately have they started to further degrade, begging for repair soon or risking complete malfunction.

Filter-mask - The mask came with the suit and has served Artemis well in filtering debris. It has come in most use when exposed to extremely dusty terrain or smoke ridden environments. This is also the face she is most infamous for. Due to this fact, Artemis rarely wears her mask in public, as to avert attention away from herself -- especially that of the authorities.

Abilities:
Her keen sight and animal reflexes have only too well served her during the course of her work. Artemis is a skilled unarmed fighter, using her speed, wit and agility to best foes much larger than she is. Skillful swordplay with her yatagan and expert marksmanship with her bow make for a dangerous opponent, close up and at a distance. With enhanced reflexes Artemis can react and appropriately respond quicker than any human, the crop of which most of her assignments were dealt with assassinating. She is a master at stealth and capable of quick, quiet eliminations.

History
Teetering the outskirts of Florida's unofficial boundaries, Artemis grew up nomadic with her mother and father. Her father, a brilliant scientist sought to gain entrance into the Ivory Tower, believing that if he proved his scientific prowess they would grant entry for him and his family. Artemis was young at this time, and while her father was away delving into the hot pursuit of genetic modification Artemis' mother would normally be the one to care for her. Her mother, a splicer and a skilled survivalist taught her at a young age varying survival skills, with a huge emphasis on hunting and innovation. For a time things went on like this, undisturbed and untouched by the faculties of the deathly world around them.

Things would not stay this way however. As the three were asleep their camp was raided, taking the life of Artemis' mother. Her father however disappeared completely. She managed to escape, finally utilizing the skills her mother passed on to her. For days Artemis wandered, barely surviving. Only did she find salvation when a wandering PK found her and placed her under his care. It is here that Artemis improved on her skills, under the watchful eye of her PK. As Artemis matured she wondered why he showed so much kindness to her, and it was only made apparent on the day he sent her away.

Unusually the man had connections to various shadow organizations, one of them Artemis became apart of. This stage signified the start of Artemis' black calling. Immediately did her employers realize her fighting prowess, guile and intuitive wit that would allow her to excel in their field. She progressed here, making a name for herself and reveling in the profits she made. However, through the entire course of this period the PK, her savior was nowhere to be found.

Not long after, she became curious to the PK's whereabouts. Making a long trek back to the old shack where the two used to stay, she saw something that frightened her. On his bed was the PK, neck craned and eyes wide. It was a sickening sight, the bed soiled several times over and the mans body contorted in painful arrangements. At this point Artemis knew that her old mentors psychic ability had finally caught up to him. Despite being a hired hand, Artemis knew what gratitude was. She cleaned him up before she left, hiring a person to take care of him while she was away.

Artemis heard news from Glowtown and how the Reagent was seeking a group of skilled hands to traverse to the Ivory Tower. She knew about the Ivory Tower, both the blessings and sins wrought within its confines to be expelled on the world. There was no way of curing the eventual effects of being a PK, but perhaps, within the walls of that damned tower there would be. Bringing only what she could carry, Artemis made her way to Glowtown, taking what she needed from unsuspecting folk. Her debt had to be paid. A life for a life. The law of equivalent exchange that had governed her for so long drove her onward over the dunes.

So begins...

Artemis Cheshire's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Record Keeper of the Wastes Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: Luke Godfried

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Image

Image



The year is- well- fuck- no one has known the ending to this sentence in quite some time. Somewhere after the fall of civilization and the rise of city-states it all got muddled a bit. Scientists and Historians jab that it is more or less 2135, but that is just a summation of their countless hypothesis regarding the sky, the turn of the moon, the drift of the tide, the way the sun shines off of a gopher’s ass- you get the point: its’ all just speculation. What you can say it is: is that it is a Tuesday.

This Tuesday is a bit different than others. The hubbub about Glowtown seems less dispersed, and more centralized around the Northernmost Gate. Usually there are vendors throughout the winding corridors of streets, the sound of old clunking Rovers jostling about, a stale breeze of old garbage collecting in the dank allies, and the drizzle of fear mixed in with the notion of safety that every bright morning brings. The Stalker attacks hadn’t been as frequent as-of late, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there watching the walls of Glowtown with nocturnal orbs and bone-pointed teeth. Yet thoughts of the citizen’s impending doom and/or death were vaporized for a moment as they looked out to a large Rover parked at the edge of the Gate. Usually crowds never happened- there were too many fucked up situations in this world to warrant such attention- but this Tuesday was a bit different. There had been whispers, slivers of whispers, gossip (both founded in truth and unreality), and a general knowledge that Reagent Keane was about to send a small squadron to the Ivory Tower.
Had speculation not been so high on their actual success a parade might have been thrown. Yet there seemed to be no such celebration as onlookers continued to well- on look- and the gate workers organized the petty but reliable rations on the Rover.

“Look Lady,” a fellow stated to a rather formally dressed woman in fatigues. Her dark black hair was pulled into a low bun, and as much as her plum ripe features were pulled tight to seem severe- she honestly just looked like a lost puppy. “The Rover is only going to take you so far- we haven’t been commissioned for the entire trip.”
“I know,” she remarked- and let those rose hued lips spread out into a sweet smile. “I specifically requested that you weren’t. Of course you could always continue on- roll straight through the Badlands, the Radiation Farm, maybe even into Stalker Territory, and I’ve been hearing rumors about how the Doombringers are lurking about there.” All of this was said with a cherry sweet staccato to her voice.
The man just blanched and nodded. “Just thought I would let you know.”
“How gentlemanly.” There was more than sarcasm to her voice, but it was hard to place what was truly there. Those digits came to her supple hips- that were attempting to hide underneath her fatigues but failing- and she stroked her pointer finger down the gun on her hip. The Lawmaker badge was always fastened next to it with the emblem of Glowtown emblazoned upon it. Of course it would do little in other city-states that didn’t swear alliance to Glowtown- actually if anything it might start a bit of aggression if she decided to pull her gun. Fortunately all this woman had to be was a guide, and nothing more. Unless her life came into any form of teetering peril she would just stand back and let the other members of her crew get their hands and faces bloody.
“So you aren’t the only one- right?”
“Right.”
“Where are the others?” The man asked somewhat cautiously- expecting another tongue lashing.
“They’ll get here when they get here I suppose. Punctuality really isn’t a virtue in a world with no clocks.”

- - -


Reagent Keane had met with all of his ‘adventurers’ separately over the past few days. Some were easy to corral into his office, and inevitably into his cause; but others had not been so smoothly coerced. They had each been offered a large sum of money, or whatever they wanted that was within his power to give them. Inevitably he had managed to procure five of the finest- or what he assumed to be the ‘finest’, because there was no real telling what the rest of the world held. And then he had given each of them specific instructions on where to meet, who they would be meeting with, and a surprisingly vague approximation of time (the morning).
Of course anyone that wasn’t a native of Glowtown might have had a hard time navigating the streets, but given the sheer size of the city-state it was somewhat streamlined for getting form one place to the other quite quickly. There were several larger roads for smaller cross-town Rovers that led from the central ‘City Hall’ out to the very edge of the gates. From there were multiple slender tributary paths that branched off for foot traffic. Inevitably though each smaller road would lead to a bigger one, and from there it was left to just understanding your cardinal directions to get to the outer walls. Glowtown itself was a conglomeration of pre-apocalyptic architecture and newer buildings built on top of them and around them. It was probably one of the more update settlements, but like every place of living there were always slums that were crumbling around its’ inhabitants and, uptown living that were made with the sleekest and newest materials. Yet no matter who you were or where you were from- today your eyes might have found themselves at the Northernmost Gates quite curious on who Reagent Keane was putting all his faith in to travel to the Ivory Tower. If you were one of these onlookers- later in life you could retell the story about the brave members of this team and the impact their actions had on the Wastelands for some time to come.

In the end- they would be a part of the Wasteland Records- in the chapter so simply named: The Trials of Genetic Decay.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire

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#, as written by Lanaya
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

My mother told me a good man wrote that. She told me many things. She told me that we all die and it is nothing to be afraid of. She told me that deep down people are inherently good, and that it's the hidden humanity in all of us that will overcome this turmoil and kick start civilization back to its feet. Fuck, if only she could see this place now. I came by an abandoned shack on my way here, not far from a landmark a colorful local called "Bailey's Bosom" -- two small cresting hills often used by travelers as a place to camp out.

The shack was devoid of life, the only semblance of once-humanity being the human carcass lying up against a dirtied bed. It was a girl, and I had arrived late enough to witness the workings of the savage yet methodical cannibals roaming around these parts. She was stripped clean from head to toe, only the bloodstains upon the walls and floorboards to signify the sins wrought within that fucking place. Hell.. . what they must have done to her.

Any humane side we possessed that raised us above simple beasts is long gone now. The hardships of the Wasteland stripped humanity and its bitter pleasantries: charity, common courtesy, the greater good and was chafed raw revealing survival, animal instinct, and self preservation. The wound is fresh and the blood still red. But, enough of that. You're probably asking yourself what purpose I'll serve here but to do so would be asking a redundant question begging for a redundant answer. There is a bigger picture here, a picture painting a path towards a great tower in the north-east. Where men play creator and any consequence they would have faced is thrust upon those not protected by gleaming walls. I'll tell you now there is a God and he is not merciful, no, he sits on a throne growing fat and indulging in his fucking and gluttony, shoving swine by the masses into blistered lips. Our God is real and he is not merciful and he sits fat upon an ivory throne.

I keep rambling when I must be quick.. . dusk beckons ever closer and out here, in their territory Stalkers prove as worthy an opponent as any. I'm one of few selected to trek into the ivory temple. Regardless of my own motives I... it would be best for the whole of the Wasteland to know their creator. To know this story, to have tangible evidence of what really happened within the confines of the Ivory Tower. This is the first of many recordings to come.. . I can only hope this journey will grant the answers I seek.


***

Artemis listened to the beep signalling the end of her recording. She sat still, perched atop an overhanging cliff that gave a picturesque view of Glowtown in the distance. Scavenging that recording device was difficult, but her work proved fruitful. While only finding a single disc to save the audio on the fact that she found such a contraption was a miracle in itself. It will prove most useful in the times to come.

There was an eerie quiet when the Wasteland settled, when the vicious noises of the Stalkers and the cries and the humdrum of everyday life finally eased into solemnity. Artemis had her knees up, arms relaxed on them. She enjoyed the way the sand swirled around her, invisible men kicking up the ground here and there. Ragged pieces of clothing hung from buried wreckage swayed gently, and whatever semblance of vegetation still alive danced to a tune not quite there. This was a peaceful place, and Artemis had learned quickly that when a peaceful place comes you enjoy it before it is ravaged by the violent lifestyle Wasteland citizens have learned all too well. Glowtown lit dimly in the distance. Artemis knew she had best be off before it grew too dark. Urban myth tells how Stalkers move even faster in the dark. It was probably true.

The sun was just about to set, blazing the world into a vibrant cascade of orange. She stood up, walking atop a dune that connected to the cliff. Squinting, Artemis scoped out the distance between where should stood and the entrance of Glowtown. It was quite the distance so she would have to make great time. With a great bound Artemis jumped onto the slope of the dune. She dug her back heel in, bending that leg and straightening the other. One hand she shoved just below the surface of the sand, her free arm used to maintain balance. It was something Artemis called sand-surfing, and it literally looked just as such. Artemis used her back hand to steer her momentum into the direction she wanted, making a zig-zag as she motioned down the great dune. The other arm was pointed straight out, to maintain balance. It was the fastest way she found to go down the great dunes of the Wasteland. The wind whipped her cloak back, and in seconds Artemis was at the bottom, leaving only tracks in the sand and a trail of dust.

She stumbled for a second as she reached the bottom. That dune was particularly large, and her one arm ached from such physical exertion. Truth be told her entire body ached and bruised from the seven day trek to Glowtown. She hadn't eaten in days, mostly because Artemis tended to forget basic bodily sustenance when pursuing a goal or destination. She made haste towards Glowtown. She craved bunk and a hot meal, and only afterwards would she find the Reagent and consecutively more information on the assignment. When Artemis arrived at the entrance, she asked to be directed to the nearest bar/inn. A large brown cloak covered her black environment suit and she made sure to take her mask off prior, making her just another face in the crowd.

The bar was homely enough and it played the exact role one would expect a bar in a post-apocalyptic environment would play. The counter was scrapped together with various pieces of wood and metal, and the stools creaked as you sat on them. In the corner was an old jukebox cascading the room in fluorescent greens and reds and blues. The owner obviously tried his best to make the place look new-fusion with the resources given to him, and hell, he did an alright job. Artemis took a corner seat at the counter.

"Just water," she asked, waving the bartender over.

The bear of a man grunted, wiping his paws onto a dirtied, greasy apron. Reaching under the counter he pulled out a milky glass. From under the table came a pitcher of dirtied water, particles of brown who-knows-what floating around. He poured it in the glass and slid it towards Artemis. She frowned.

"Thanks," she said bitterly, grabbing the glass of water and tossing its contents over her shoulder. Maybe in lesser circumstances she might have drank the stuff, but she had been traveling nonstop for seven days and was already in an acrimonious mood

The bartender did not try in the slightest to hide how offended he was.

"You have a fuckin' problem, girly?" he said from underneath his beard.

"Not with you," Artemis replied bluntly with a fiery green glare, "Just your drink,"

"If you got a problem with my drink, then you got a problem with me,"

As if on choreographed queue four men behind Artemis stood up. They were of large build -- beer bellied, but still large enough to swing a hard enough righter. The tender leaned in, grabbing the collar of Artemis' brown cloak.

"I'm going to let you go nicely now. This is a local bar. Locals like locals, not prying outsiders. Hell, this whole Ivory Tower business has attracted a suspicious lot of you, and I won't have any of that here. So here's what you're going to do, you're going to get up, walk your pretty little self out of my bar and straight out of Glowtown. Yeah?"

Artemis didn't exactly know what to say, but she did know that this was going to end badly one way or another. Her pride wouldn't allow for such scolding, so she spoke the first thing that came to mind.

"Fuck you,"

The tender screamed angrily, raising a fist. Artemis responded instantaneously, throwing her brown cloak off and towards the four men behind her, rendering them blind for valuable seconds. Her motion was swift as she grabbed her taser out of its holster, and with violent strength she grabbed the tenders head and smashed it hard into the counter. She immediately jabbed the taser deep inside the mans neck, triggering violent shocks. The tender's body surged in violent spasms, eventually rolling off the counter with an audible thud on the floor.

Artemis turned around and dodged a blow aimed for the side of her head. Soon after she was met with a hard haymaker square in the face from another man. Her head jerked backwards and for a moment she was dizzy. Four against one wasn't her type of playing field, she had to even it out. With a fluid movement she drew her yatagan, the black blade silhouetting itself against the light within the bar. Patrons were scurrying out left and right. She pointed it towards the group of four.

"I'm going to walk out of here before I have the sudden urge to cut your fucking arms off, is that clear?"

The men just stared, grunted and mumbled among themselves before taking their seats at their respective tables, watching Artemis closely as she walked out of the place. A few tended to the bartender unconscious behind the counter. Artemis suddenly cursed her stupidity. It wasn't exactly good mercenary etiquette to cause chaos in the town of the mayor who's hiring you. Artemis eventually found another place to stay at, one that proved much more hospitable.

In the morning Artemis headed off. She crinkled her nose triggering an aching sensation all over her face. Glowtown's streets were easy enough to navigate, and she went about searching for the Regeants office. Artemis eventually did, learning the necessary details to her assignment. The pay was nice but that isn't what motivated her to be here. Points about their guide and first mode of travel were given. After getting business in order Artemis ensured her pack was would suffice for the great trek. All her equipment was fastened the day prior, and she had bought whatever non-perishable food she could scrape together from the witty not to mention loud market vendors that lined the streets. She had visited a so called 'electronics' store in hopes of getting her goggles repaired but, the man knew nothing about the sophisticated wiring located in night vision devices. She left the store and moved North.

It seemed as if the further one progressed to the Northern gates the more crowded it became. It was closing in on the afternoon, so Artemis would have been a tad late to the meeting place. At one point she had to shove past Glowtown citizens crammed shoulder to shoulder, peeking and prying over people in front of them to get a glimpse of the merry band of adventurers. Artemis had lost her brown cloak back in the bar, her regular grey one providing the only type of vague provision. People were crowded enough not to notice her, and she didn't have her mask on so the infamous face named Reaper didn't draw attention. She broke through to the edge of the crowd and saw a rover, a woman and a man. She scoped in with her zoom vision, providing extreme details of all their faces. Artemis recognized the woman as her guide, but she didn't know who the other two were. Nevertheless this was the place the Reagent had told them to meet. She walked towards them.

"Is this the meeting place?" she asked.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: Luke Godfried

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Glory wasn’t enjoying the scenery, because the scenery was the epitome of pre-End-of-Times Western Novels. There was your stereotypical crowd, the stereotypical rustle of dirt around your feet, and the oh-so common hand upon your gun. It wasn’t as if the Lawmaker feared someone coming after her, but she was unsure what to make of this entire ‘hired guns’ scenario. Fortunately her thoughts were eased as the first applicant to their Wasteland trek was a young fellow that was pert and firm like all young men should be in this day and age. He had a look about him that plainly stated: ‘I’ve seen combat but I still believe in the good in people’. Glory had to say that that way of life was as outdated as the telephone, but she enjoyed his politeness. “Fair day Mister Caulfield,” she stated and nodded her head at his badge. “And I don’t know if escort is the proper term. Considering its’ connotation your job would be finished when I get you to the Ivory Tower- but it is much more complicated than that. You will have to complete the task that the Reagent assigned you- which I assume is getting a way to stop the Stalkers. Among what else your heart desires. I figure no one will fault you for looting or anything of that sort when in the Ivory Tower.” Not that Glory suspected that Mister Caulfield was the looting type, but then again the Rangers hired members on sheer stake of prowess and the ability to do right. It didn’t mean they were virtuous knights on a quest to save the world.

It was then Glory’s eyes found herself upon a blonde woman with a powerful build and a stark awareness that meant she had been hired for her ability. Being a Ranger was a give-in for acceptance into this role, but her apparent physique and skills set her apart from the rest. The Reagent had been smart in hiring her. To say that the Eve was attracted to her would be a substantial downplay of her emotions. Glory had to fight day to day against her genetic program to breed and preserve the human way of life, and so she had found being attracted to the same gender a way to bypass her instinct to mate by allowing her pleasures that wouldn’t lead to offspring. That and her odd sense of will and grueling sarcasm had done well in being quite unlike the nubile ‘princesses’ the Eves usually were. “Yes it is. I am Glory Morrison your escort, and this is Mister Caulfield a Ranger. And your name?” The Eve flashed her most welcoming smile towards the woman. It was cherry saccharine sweet and spoke of many promises that were made betwixt a downy curtain of lashes and thick ruby red lips.

Yet her eyes meandered from the blonde beauty to an odd android waiting on the outskirts of their caravan. “Right. Mister Android. I apologize if I forget your name, but honestly many of you have given up their names. Either way welcome to the caravan.” Honestly she found the presence of an android odd, but the Reagent had his reasons and she wasn’t about to doubt that. Maybe there would be radioactive territory or a need for some fallible machinery. Mayhap they would need to hack something. While the Eve was plausibly more technologically savvy than most it only came in the spectrum of knowing about electronics and their functions and not so much in using them. The Ivory Tower was bound to be a wealth of information and power, and more so probably owned pneumatically sealed doors that could only be reached through keypad or something of that sort. Honestly she was just stabbing at air with these presumptions, because the only memories left in her databanks were how to get there, and not so much what lay on the inside.

Yet nothing would be as surprising as their last member. To be completely honest Glory had figured that only the benevolent would arrive here due to the nature of the mission, but this member oozed something entirely different. And yet she was faced by other Lawmakers of Glowtown, and that was a trite bit unsettling. The Reagent had mentioned there would be someone of this standard and juxtaposition upon their team, but she had assumed maybe a raider turned against their own kind. Not this- this was a bit more complicated. The entire entourage felt a bit unnecessary, but she swallowed her disbelief as the truck seemed to deliver their last member with a disgruntled unlike. Yet she understood the Reagent’s group would involve the best and the worst of the Wastelands, but she had figured there would be a line drawn somewhere amidst it all. “This is Mister Caulfield from the Rangers,” Glory stated firmly. "The rest I haven't managed to get the names from, and I left my list inside the rover. I suppose I can fix this little dilemma quite easily, but I figured we would still have manners in this day in age." Slowly Glory walked to the back of the rover- the back of it was a large cavernous pit of comfortable seating and securely strapped down supplies. "This is the rover we shall be travelling on. It will not go the entire way, but it will get us through the more peaceful territories. From there we shall face horrors and terrors unknown, and hopefully manage to find our way to the Ivory Tower. If anyone would like to back out now they are more than welcome." Glory stated firmly, "otherwise you know why you are here and what we have to do. So without any further ado please board the rover. We'll have time for questions once we are on it."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: Luke Godfried

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What his heart desired... there was a difficult question, if Cameron had ever known one. Simple looting certainly wasn't it, but by no means did that mean he wouldn't take a look around if they were actually able to reach the Ivory Tower. Considering how little he, or anyone, knew of what was in there, he simply couldn't say what his intentions would be upon arriving. It was just something he'd have to decide when he knew more. For now, staying alive would likely be enough to occupy him.

The others began to arrive, the first being a blonde woman who was, judging by her equipment and outfitting, a mercenary, likely a bounty hunter. He was quite certain that he recognized her, after looking at her a little more closely. The protective gear matched closely enough, but there was something missing... the mask. It had been difficult to recognize her without the mask, but this was definitely the one called the Reaper. A few had attempted to hire him to kill her or even bring her in alive, but he'd never accepted those jobs. The headhunter was simply a tool of those who hired her, and as Cameron had heard, it was not beyond her to show protectiveness. He killed the Raiders, but he had nothing against the Raiders' guns. Perhaps the analogy was oversimplifying things, but it worked well enough in his mind. He gave her a respectful nod as Glory introduced him.

And now apparently Glory was escorting them. Cameron had been under the assumption that she was to be their guide, and he didn't see a great deal of firepower on her person, though he'd learned long ago not to underestimate anyone. The way she immediately flashed a smile at the headhunter was slightly strange, but he said nothing of it.

The next to arrive was an android, a very quiet one at that. The Ranger could see the potential uses a robotic member of the team could have, but there were also a few liabilities that cropped up as well. Best to assume he... it? Was more than capable of looking after itself. The last member of their group also failed to introduce himself, leaving Cameron as the only one who actually had. He found it strangely fitting, but did not comment on the matter. None of the group, apart from the Lawmaker, seemed particularly trustworthy, and the Lawmaker only because Cameron assumed she at least had to do something to earn that badge. Truly, it was perhaps meaningless. He didn't need to trust them, he just had to work with them.

Seeing as he'd been introduced, and there was little point in wasting more time, Cameron climbed into the rover, taking a seat at the pack and setting his pack down at his feet.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cameron Caulfield Character Portrait: Artemis Cheshire Character Portrait: Glory Morrison Character Portrait: Alex Johnson Character Portrait: Luke Godfried

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#, as written by Lanaya
Artemis had only a few experiences dealing with companions, and even then they usually only surmounted to transportation from point A to B or she had to escort them from here to there. It wasn't that she was incapable of working in groups, she simply found working alone to be much easier. There is peace in independence, an individual roaming in the Wasteland can make a solitary connection to the landscape much easier than if there were a second mouth yapping off beside you. Partners are also unpredictable, they act on their own stead and if they make a mistake you better hope it isn't one that affects you. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but feel intrigued by the people she saw that would become her allies over the course of the journey -- for better or worse. Though showing nothing on the exterior, she sized each of them up, creating a first impression of each individual. This was a unique group of individuals, that was for sure.

She first noticed the ranger, Cameron she found as he was introduced. His appearance was worn and weathered, akin to the everyday folk of the Wasteland, and that alone spoke much about his character. Rangers, as she came by appeared different with every encounter. Some just liked to flash the badge, waving that symbolic token of 'justice' around like it was a key to slight authority over other citizens. These ones never really did much for the Wasteland people, more or less sitting on the sidelines and directing cheap command to get what they want. She called them pretty boys or pretty girls, and needless to say these pretty people usually ended up rotting and half-eaten in a ditch by the side of the road, mostly because they were unfit for desert life.
Then there were the seasoned ones, fierce survivalists forged on the anvil of tooth and grit -- she assumed this Cameron fell into that category. These were the rangers a headhunter had to truly be weary of. She did not fear their skill, nor their badge. Artemis was confident that her abilities could best the most of them. What she did fear was their versatility, intuition and survival instincts. She did her best to avoid contracts on the heads of the seasoned rangers, last time she was on the hunt for one she was nearly killed. They functioned like machines and simply refused to die, and that made the job much harder than it should have been. Her stomach sank as she recollected the time, and for a moment she could feel bitterness at the back of her throat. This Cameron already had much to live up to simply from her past experiences, and Artemis expected to see more. She nodded back to him in return. Artemis did not doubt Cameron's capability, in fact she kept it in good favor so long as his weapons were pointed away from her. She also expected noble things from him as well, as she did from most rangers. A smile perked up on the side of her lips, it would be entertaining to see if this journey would be willing to test that.

Artemis' eyes fell upon their guide, Glory. She too had a lawmakers responsibility, but it was different to that of the ranger in their party -- to the exact extent Artemis was unsure of. The woman must be well versed in Wasteland survival and navigation, why else would she be their guide? Artemis noted Glory's smile, it was a welcome sight from the rather angry, contorted look of rage of her bartender just a day before. It suddenly dawned on Artemis that this Glory woman would have been seen as extremely attractive to most of the Wasteland populace. It was definitely something about her appearance that Artemis could see how she could be one to bear a sly charisma. The blonde woman blinked, something was intriguing about this Glory woman that she could not quite place. It was most likely because of her friendliness, something Artemis saw all to little of. Not that it surprised the headhunter due to the nature of her calling and the way she came off to others. She gave another slight nod, catching her eyes drifting to other places before turning them to the others.

The android appeared simple enough. Artemis herself never really had any significant encounters with these human machinations, but they didn't sway for better or for worse in her opinion. She saw them little more than high-tech pack mules mixed with vultures, albeit technologically savvy ones but pack-mule-vultures nonetheless. And it wasn't in the form of disrespect, Artemis had a feeling some androids were more human than actual humans were, in fact that would be something she'd be willing to bet on. It wasn't too far from common for Artemis to see androids helping out the smaller settlements with scavenging and the search of supplies, and for that the hunter already held a hidden respect of the machine. Not that she knew whether it did do that or not, but that was Artemis' first impression. Perhaps the mix of technology and flesh is what saved the human trait of common decency in all of her android encounters. Technology saving the human spirit. That was a frighteningly ironic idea.

Then there was the strange PK, tossed out of a prison wagon like baggage. Already this was a strange sight. Most of the PK's Artemis encountered were wise, mature people who were well collected in themselves. Her mentor was one, and the difference between him and the one here was staggering. Artemis did not doubt either of their psychic capability however, that was something anyone should be weary of. Artemis did not know the extent of his ability and she was not willing to test it, at least not on herself.

Artemis listened to Glory get them started with their journey. The headhunter looked around, sighting all the people crowded to see their brave group venture on the ivory path. She wondered if this would impact their lives somehow. Fate had a strange way of working itself in everything a person did, Artemis could only hope it was for the better. Perhaps the bartender was in there somewhere. She grinned to herself, Artemis would have to pay another visit to him after she made it back. Grabbing her things she stepped towards the rover, but not before stopping and turning to Glory.

"Artemis," she said.

With that she stepped up into the vehicle. She took a seat across from the ranger, placing her pack on the floor.