You've Been Selected



a part of You've Been Selected, by Ashes-6695.


Ashes-6695 holds sovereignty over Riddari, giving them the ability to make limited changes.
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Riddari is a part of You've Been Selected.

27 Characters Here

Valkyrie [3]
Glass [3] "Go on and try to screw with me, I dare you."
Aiden Laurel [2] "I guess it's too late to be the interesting guy."
Loki [1] "I feel sorry for you. I don't think about you at all."
Jessica Boone [1] Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours.
Sandra McCay [1] Let me take a look at your case file
Silver [1] Unavailable Character
Bright [1] 'Want to one-up someone? I've got the perfect dirty trick to hide up your sleeve. Or in your arm, leg, foot, chest...'
Pamela Adler [0] "Normal was never in the cards for me."
Dorian [0] "Humans are creatures built around illusions -not really understanding the truth in which we perceive- how dismal that is, because it is what makes life worth living."

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aiden Laurel

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☩ αι∂єη νι¢тσя ℓαυяєℓ ☩


Aiden let the smoke slip out from between his lips before placing the cigarette back to his mouth, freeing up the hand that had previously been holding it to adjust the piece of equipment currently settled upon his right arm. Bionic exoskeletons were difficult enough to make as it was, let alone being nothing more than a sheath of sensors with little blue lights and connecting wires that fit snugly to his scrawny arm. It wouldn't fit anyone else, certainly, the object having been crafted with extra parts and around his own arm in the first place, and it certainly didn't need to fit anyone else either, as the purpose really was only to be testing equipment when none of his little buddies from Moorden were around to do so for him. It wasn't the same of course. The exoskeleton was barely any stronger than he himself was, and only barely worked at all, but it did the task of making sure that a weapon was actually going to fire, rather than have serious problems about backup. The sensors running along his fingers, his palm, and his forearm read the signals from his nerve endings, and the small, three-sensor piece clipped on behind his ear sensed just enough to get a minor synchronization going, and activate whatever most basic function of what he was working on with the cue of his brain fluctuation. In the hands of, well, basically anyone else, the object would have been confiscated and deemed absolutely illegal. Being one of those few useful humans to Moorden came with its perks, he supposed.

Pulling the cigarette away from his mouth again and waiting just a moment for the smoke to dissipate from his field of vision before reaching his right hand into the open crevice of the engine before him. He leaned in as far as he could get without blocking his light, clicking away at this and that, pulling a connection from one place and situating it in another. The automatic energy renewal system had been installed hours ago, Why isn't this working yet? He huffed, reaching just enough to grasp at one connection a little further. Maybe... If I just cut this connection -

"Aiden! C'mon we've gotta go now."

Aiden snapped back, drawing his grease-covered arm out of the engine all-too-quickly, resulting in a small electrical burst which caused him to flinch for a moment, his hands instantly going to shield his own face from flying sparks while he shut his eyes against the start. Settling down after a moment, he straightened his back, using his left arm to push himself up off where he had been sitting on the concrete ground of his garage. He took a vague look at the dropped cigarette on the ground and could only find his expression darkening at the petite girl standing at the top of the stairs that lead into the rest of the house. Caitlin, all twelve years and one hundred pounds of her stood with her hands on her hips and her little red cheer-leading uniform on with her dark blonde curls in a ponytail, looking agitated and impatient with her older brother. Aiden could barely discern her narrowed brown eyes.

"What the fuck, Caitlin, Did you not see I was busy?" Aiden scoffed, forgetting for just a moment, in his quiet rage, that he wasn't technically supposed to be swearing in front of his little sister. "What do you mean we've gotta go? Where the heck do we have to go to?"

"The school idiot, I have cheer-leading, remember?" She replied, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her shoe impatiently on the step.

Aiden groaned, letting his head drop backwards uncomfortably. "Are you kidding me? Today is Saturday! Why in hell would you have to go on Saturday?" This certainly had to be the worst part of his parents' anniversary. Every single fucking year they had to go on some seven-day-long trip and ever since Aiden could drive, he was tossed the responsibility of his younger sister. The seven days was nearly over, thank god, but here he had been thinking that the weekend would have been a bit of a break. Didn't normal kids sit and watch TV on Saturday? Go to the movies with friends?

Caitlin groaned right back at him, stomping her way down the stairs and making her way to her brother's back, laying her hands down against his spine and pushing with all her fragile little weight. However, there was no doubt that Aiden had just about as much strength as she did, maybe less, if one accounted for the fact that he was also decently bigger still. He leaned back against her force, trying his hardest not to budge just for the sake of being annoying. "Cheer-leading is always on Saturday, Aiden! I'm gonna be late and you have to take me now or I'm telling mom about your dumb guns!"

Aiden froze for a mere moment before straightening and slipping out of the path of his sister's force, slipping the bionic exoskeleton from his arm and placing it down on the work desk against the wall, followed by the little piece that had previously been behind his ear. "Jesus Christ, Caitlin, what the heck are you playing around for, you're gonna be late for cheer-leading," he uttered, and after an audible 'ugh' from the girl, he quickly gestured towards towards the door out back through the house. "Go on."

Caitlin was the first to rush through, followed by a still reluctant Aiden, wiping the the grease from his arm only barely with a rag before grabbing his keys on the way out the front door. Caitlin was already in the passenger seat of his truck by the time he'd even gotten out, her bag for cheer-leading in the back seat next to Axel, who Caitlin must have allowed in, his head already stuck out the window and his tail already wagging. The animal enjoyed going for rides, but Aiden didn't indulge him often. After all, he felt bad about taking him places where all the dog could do was sit in the car. It seemed pointless, and almost cruel to taunt him like that. He supposed this wouldn't be so bad. After all, it wasn't as if he had to do anything aside from drop the girl off at practice and go home, however, he was sure that wouldn't end up being the case. He would probably stop at Moorden, too, now that he thought about it. He needed a couple extra parts, just for a few regular weapons he was building. Surely, getting that engine to work was a priority, but it was one that he could take his time with. He still had to keep up with the other more common projects. Axel, well, at the very least, Aiden would be able to take the dog in with him. Axel had never been disobedient, anyway, and this wouldn't have been the first time, but not everyone was overly fond of large dogs, anyway, and it wasn't something he easily did often.

He slid into the driver's side and started up the engine.

"Don't forget to pick me up at two," Caitlin reminded. Aiden simply shot her a look and backed out of the driveway.

☩ ☩ ☩

Aiden popped the back door of his truck, allowing Axel to hop out from the back seat and snuff around the ground for a moment while he shut it back up, locking the doors. It didn't take long for the dark colored animal to realize where he was and happily make his way over to his typical place at Aiden's left side, wagging his tail and staring up at his master expectantly. Aiden stared right back at the dog boredly, only offering up a small "What're you lookin at?" before patting the animal's head and moving from his place finally, trailing calmly in through the front entrance of the main building.

The halls were relatively relaxed. The Moors that traversed them here and there ignored his presence, as it was one they had gotten used to over the duration of his trips there. Saturday, for the most part, was a free day for them, after all, and it made sense that any going around were either here after or before detention, here for personal one-on-one lessons, or here to take advantage of the simulators. Many of the ones walking around with their partners or their friends, sitting around on the grey carpeting and quizzing each other or eating snacks, were mostly just waiting for a simulator to be free. The occasional younger Moor passed and held Axel up, letting the animal sniff their bionically-laced hand before petting him until he dashed off to catch up with Aiden. It was mostly other teachers that disliked the animal, after all, and most of them, he was sure, wouldn't be around to care for the moment.

His journey didn't take him very far up the elevators and through the third floor to the weapons training wing, where part of his "job" currently took place. The wing held a few doors, most leading to class rooms or shooting rooms currently with doors shut and lights off. A couple of offices were around here, too, but as well, they were currently vacant. Stopping at the equipment room just past the room he typically taught out of, he pulled his keys from his pocket, quickly grabbing hold of his pass key, which took the form of a small metal card with his identification, military allowances, and so-on, laced into the little hard wiring. One of those little precautions taken just to be sure that not just anyone was going through the private stuff. If the face on surveillance wasn't matching the one on file, the card wasn't going to work. He let the key pad scan the object quickly, and after a small, encouraging beep from the panel, pushed through the door, giving a quick look to Axel before letting the door swing shut behind him, figuring that the animal would be fine by himself in the hall for the time being.

The room was a mess, really, but it wasn't as if he'd been expecting it to suddenly be clean for once. Much to disappointment, it seemed the others who worked in the department were equally as disorganized as he was, and just about everyone was simply waiting around for one another to finally get agitated enough to clean the entire thing. So far it was a stale mate with no end, however, Aiden was beginning to get used to it. Snatching one of the empty crates from a pile against the wall and plopping it down on the nearest cleared place on the floor, he started trying to sort through some of the mess surrounding him, just enough to see if he could find anything that was going to be of any use. Working on the automatic reloader seemed to be one of his bigger challenges, though the idea of not having to carry around all that extra ammunition had been itching at the back of his mind for quite some time. This was just going to need a bit more juice to power than the usual that went into his regular weapons, and if he was going to get it working without draining all the energy from a Moor's body every time, it was going to take some toying with.

He'd tossed a couple of things in the crate before a couple of barks gave him a start. Biting his lip and nearly tripping over a small motor on the floor, he made his way over to the door again, giving a glare at the dog who'd only decided to shut up now that the door had opened. Aiden looked him over, noting nothing wrong with the panting mass of fur, sitting up and wagging his tail, though on a quick glance at the other direction, noticed a couple of guys passing by the hall. Aiden sighed, glaring at the animal once again. "God, Axel, shut up, we'll be out of here in a second. You're gonna get me in trouble." He grumbled, backing away from the entrance and sighing, trying to focus back on the disheartening mountains of tangled wires and parts, looming over him and threatening him with avalanches that could crash down at any moment and bury his small body completely. He mindlessly rubbed at his cheek with the back of his right hand, effectively doing nothing but smearing a bit of the black sludge that had remained on his arm across his freckled cheek, before finally getting right back down to what he had been doing. Yes, he would certainly only be a few minutes, he assured himself, as he quickly looked towards his wristwatch. Eleven AM. He'd be back home to do plenty of work before he'd have to pick up his sister. It was fine.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sandra McCay

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Sandra McCay

Nonchalantly the clack of a hand carved clock struck its rhythm disrupting any silence that had enveloped the room it had been hung up in. Sandra McCay sat to right of it. Its pattern was a familiar din to her as she looked down at a handful of papers she had within her hands glancing towards her computer for correspondence. The sound of the clock had always been within the office that she now occupied, it had once belonging to the founder of the Moorden School System. Like her desk, it was made of solid oak and pictured a small owl design. She often resented it.

The solid oak desk had a style that was falteringly old fashioned just like the padded chair she sat within. Its cushions were a vibrant red both at the back and seat. Yet they did little to actually comfort Sandra after many hours of scouring through paperwork and updating it onto the system with her computer. The walls were painted a similar red behind the bookcases that stood against them. The floor a polished light wood which showed some wear over the years just like the books on the shelves. Overall the office itself was quaint, not overly large but not small enough to make it seemed cramped with the few shelves that held papers instead of books. Not to mention the cabinets that arrayed the adjacent wall to Sandra’s desk all listed in alphabetical order.

On a regular day Sandra would be within this room filing through paperwork and arranging updates onto the system with the moors. She would write up her findings and her views to their placements before checking and monitoring the moors health and psychological well being. Today was thankfully a regular day; Sandra always feared that it wouldn’t be. That instead she would have to do the part of her job that she hated.

Forcing that from her mind Sandra looked ahead with a warm smile as she checked the information on her papers.
“So, Miss Ares” she paused as the girl that sat before her glared whilst she forced her smile to remain.
“You have made some improvements to your control on your violence towards others since we last met. That’s excellent news; may I ask how you are?” She put down the papers and intertwined her fingers leaning forward to hear the young moors response.
Ares was a very violent girl which was why she was dubbed Ares, It was clear to Sandra that she enjoyed to hurt people physically even if they were her classmates. She had seen in past sessions the sense of pride that the girl had felt at what she had done. It scared Sandra, there were Moors who were like this but they were rare. It scared her knowing that if anything were to go wrong she would have no way of fighting back, no way of protecting herself against these.. these unhappy used children.

“Im fine, never better actually” Ares snided at Sandra in mockery “I got assigned my future partner last week, seems like a nice girl, I’m going to have fun with her” the look she had then made Sandra clench her hands tight. Ares meant harm to her partner, she wouldn’t be the first.

“That’s good” Sandra smiled through her fear and worry. “Miss Hera is a very sensible young woman; she is very smart and has proven herself to be very capable at deploying strategies worthy of a fighter such as you Miss Ares. Partnering with her shall be a learning curve of co-operation for you.” Sandra paused than dropped her smile. “I would not take her lightly. She was partnered with you with your violent tendencies in mind Miss Ares. I’m sure you’re aware.” Sandra focused her gaze directly at Ares her voice low. It was subtle but Ares knew what Sandra meant, she was always keeping an eye on the students especially the more psychotic ones.

Suddenly Ares snarled standing up from her chair so vibrantly that it knocked over as the girl slammed both her hands onto the desk and pushed herself close to Sandra. “Oh I’m aware Miss McMcay” she spoke sarcastically. “That little bitch is just another challenge. Mark my words, she better watch her back” she huffed before quickly storming out of the office slamming the door behind her.

The moment the door was slammed Sandra sighed her head falling into her hands. “I guess she hasn’t quite gotten past her need to be violent. Better update the file and have the tutors keep an eye on Hera.” She spoke to herself more to organise her thoughts than anything, a habit of Sandra’s as she moved to the computer. Angry Moors were very common place in her office, the price of being the person who had to evaluate them every set term. Typing up the new information and sending it to the right people Sandra moved to the next pile of papers when a small nock echoed at her door.

“Come in” she beckoned giving permission for the next interview of the day to begin.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Glass Character Portrait: Valkyrie

0.00 INK


Turning to fit, two large boxes made their way into the barren apartment, dismounting from the arms that carried them. They were the last to arrive, quick to join their cardboard brethren on the tiled kitchen floor, temporarily forgotten. A sterile, pristine room reflected in a pair of wandering blue eyes, impressing little. In the meantime, her hands were swift in their tugging and pulling as they removed two brown boots, revealing small, yellow ducks that decorated her white socks. Setting her footwear by the door, she straightened and readjusted her daisy dukes before venturing toward the other rooms. One was longer with several windows and the other more square with only one larger window. Both were on the same side of the main hallway with the large, shared bathroom and storage closet on the other. Most of the apartment seemed to be taken up by the living room and kitchen, likely in an effort to promote interaction and naturally, cohesion in the team. Though she was thankful for the extra room, which was marginally larger than the dorm she called home for the past two years, her small appreciation soon welcomed a sinking feeling. No longer would she be living alone, only seeing her partner when necessary. Now they would share this space, reducing the privacy she so valued. Unfortunately, that was not the only reason the young Moor grew increasingly anxious, for she knew there was a chance that her partner could be male. Despite the frustration and resentment caused by her previous partner, she could at least fallback on her sex as a minimum requirement for trust. MSS knew her background, more than she ever did really, so it would only make sense that they would pair her with a female. At least, that's what she hoped, one never knew with Moorden. Nervously, her fingers toyed with the necklace on her chest, a habit that rarely manifested. There were few things that Valkyrie feared in life, none of which would be expected of a budding soldier.

Rather than entertain scenarios, she moved to organize her belongings, separating boxes and places them in the appropriate rooms. Temporarily, she left her bedroom items in the living room, lying in wait for her roommate's entrance. The rest she began to unpack to the beat of her headphones as they dangled from her neck. The music was unconventional for mindless work, the sound rich and complex with the occasional, well-placed dissonance. At times it was classical, at others contemporary jazz, all of it requiring a second hearing to properly enjoy. When there were lyrics, the Moor sang along quietly, hitting the right pitches with a smooth timbre but was otherwise, an unimpressive vocalist. Though she delved into the music, one ear was always perked for the telltale click of a turning lock.

With her belongings temporarily orphaned, Valkyrie decided to wait by doing whatever else she could. Though she was certain everything was already cleaned, she gave it another go and ended up cleaning the entire apartment. The Moor then made a quick run to the grocery store, buying ingredients as well as a few things she forgot to bring. Somehow she ended up with several bags of groceries and instead, stocked the fridge full. Always looking for more to do, she began to start on dinner and expectedly, ended up finishing it. Though it was a bit silly, she worried over the relations with her partner, hoping this time first impressions would turn out better. The deliciously cooked fish and assorted vegetables was just the thing to appease them, at least, in her mind. More often than not, food tend to be the way to get into someone's good books.

As her nervous energy dwindled, Valkyrie grew tired and thought to take a short break. Covering the meal with a pan lid, she left a sticky note on the handle that read "If you like fish, try some! :)". Stepping over a few boxes, Valkyrie made her way to the couch and laid down, stretching her body to its full length. However, she underestimated the extent of her fatigue and despite her apprehension, fell asleep. With her hair down, the blonde strands spilled over the pillows and on to her flowy white blouse. Upon entry, the Moor would be found in a fetal position with bright red headphones on, the music quietly playing.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Glass Character Portrait: Valkyrie

0.00 INK

☩ gℓαѕѕ ☩


What time was it again? Glass made an effort to draw his eyes away from the page to look at the panel on his wrist, conveniently telling the system to display the time. Time which, he figured, he had plenty of, as he let his eyes trail back over to the book in his hand. Sure, he had to be getting himself situated in his new place and introducing himself to his new partner, however the priority seemed all too distant at the current moment. It wasn't as if either was going to just disappear in the next five minutes, were they? Well, the partner, perhaps, but moving in could wait as long as he wanted it to, and while the same could be said for his book, it seemed that absolutely nothing was going to pull him apart from the current chapter.

He supposed he must have looked odd to any passer-by in the area; perched on a thick branch of a wide-growing tree, legs propped up in front of him and staring at the page in front of him without break. His duffle bag and a fully-stuffed backpack sat at the base of the tree below him, having been en route to moving into the new living space, however, he had found himself with a bit of an impulse to take a break for no other reason than that he figured he was in no real rush. It wasn't an uncommon trait of his, when no obligation really presented itself. Not to say he wasn't normally a punctual person, but at the current moment, he just wasn't very concerned about the situation. Surely, he supposed he was the least bit curious about his new partner. The assignment had come practically out of the blue, seeing as Glass had remained partnerless for a period of time while no partners were available. Moorden, however, had not seemed particularly worried about him being on his own, and simply allowed it for the time being, something rarely done for very long and rarely done at all with the typical behaviors of most Moors, however, Glass was particularly mellow, and many calculators were. More or less, it was their job to be.

Glass turned the page, quickly scanning over the words on the last page of the chapter before folding the corner of the page and shutting it, staring at the cover for a few moments while he wrestled with the urge to simply start back up again, though eventually the decision that he'd more than likely left his partner waiting long enough got him moving again. He hopped out of the tree gracefully, ginger hair landing about his shoulders and his face messily as his feet touched the ground. He took no more than a moment to brush his hair off his shoulder, bending down to grab his already clearly stuffed backpack from where he'd leaned it against the trunk of a tree. Despite it's clear appearance, he unzipped it anyway, giving a bit of force on the items inside with one hand while he tried to stuff his book down deep enough inside that he'd still be able to close it back up again. Perhaps he should have attempted more baggage, so as to have avoided the number of reason his bag may be splitting open at any given moment, however, the idea of getting as much into one bag as possible seemed appealing... at first. Either way, it was too late now, and there was simply no sense in going back to unpack and find something else to throw things into. He would be at the new place soon enough. It certainly didn't matter.

Opening one of the front pockets, he pulled out a small elastic before straightening up again and slipping his backpack onto his shoulders. Moving in, doing anything really, was going to be a lot easier without all that hair falling around every few seconds, he supposed, as he began pulling it all over his shoulders and away from his face, fastening the elastic around the girlishly high ponytail. While he enjoyed the long hair, many could argue, and even he himself could argue, it wasn't always completely practical. Hefting his duffle bag up next, he tried to force himself to get moving. How long exactly had he been waiting around? Perhaps a few hours, actually. His partner probably was thinking he was being this late just to be rude or something, though at least he was finally getting himself moving again. If they gave him any trouble, well, really, it wasn't as if he couldn't handle it.

It was kind of odd, Glass supposed, now that he thought of it. He'd barely ever had to do anything when it came to his classmates. They simply agreed or did as he said. If they tried to screw around, it was as if all he ever had to do was give them a look and they'd stop. He'd always put it more towards just that they were trying to work with him, however, it just wasn't making sense when it came to his partnerships. His fighters did what he said, they worked well with his commands and carried out his strategies easily. It was always working so well, and yet... What was with all of them trying to get out of being partnered with him? He recalled a few times people telling him he was scary, however, was that really what was applying to his previous fighters? It seemed kind of stupid. What the heck am I doing wrong, here, he thought, biting his lower lip while he walked at a near snails pace, still not feeling any priority in moving fast.

Perhaps it really was a bit of hesitation, now that he thought more about it. Moorden had neglected, after all, to actually mention who it was they were tossing him in with. However, it wasn't as if he could blame them, seeing as there were so many of these kinds of issues going around. One simple matter wasn't something they were going to fret over very much, and he couldn't go about getting aggravated about it. Essentially, it was just another one of those deals. This was his third partner, and yet he still couldn't figure out what the problem was. He supposed he'd just have to hope for the best that whoever it was was willing to work through whatever issues they were going to have.

By the time he had finally come close to the off-campus building, it had finally dawned on him how much longer the walk had taken than it really should have. It was in no way late in the day, however, it was much later than he had been expected to be actually going to the new living space. Glass sighed, making his way up a few floors and wandering a bit before finding the correct door before hesitating again. He found himself thinking back to the last partner's attempt on his life, despite having tried to convince himself that he was over it. Trying to push it back again, he simply tried to focus on the task ahead of him, outstretching his arm before a panel on the wall beside the front door of the apartment, allowing the lock to scan the digital panel on the inside of his wrist. The door unlocked with a small beep, and he pushed through quickly, letting the door swing closed behind him while he quietly examined the place, which was, needless to say, hardly dissimilar from the last place he had been in, aside from... He raised a brow, detecting a faint smell of someone having been cooking. It must have been his new partner, he rationalized, moving a bit more inward and finally peering the girl in the living room.

He instantly recognized the girl as Valkyrie. It wasn't as if he knew her on any level other than basics, but being in the same initial age group, it wasn't as though he didn't know of her, having seen her in classes and generally around campus. Not a significant bad reputation, as far as he was aware, either. He couldn't particularly complain about that, however, how unfortunate it was to have been so behind this other person's schedule that she'd already decided a better use of her time was a nap. He supposed he wasn't much better, actually, seeing as he'd only up until a little while ago been caught up reading, and it struck a little tinge of guilt, though it almost instantly simmered. There wasn't much else to do about it, now was there?

Taking note of what must have been her things on the floor of the living room, he took her initiative and let his bags slide off his shoulders, dropping them to the place beside her boxes for the time being. She must have not decided on a room, he thought, wandering off rather than bother trying to wake her for the moment. The shape of the rooms, he took note of, were actually completely different from the last place he was in, which, despite the simplicity of the difference, actually pleased him quite a bit. A change to things typically was nice after all, and after having remained in the same place he'd almost been killed for longer than he'd ever wanted to, having a place that at least was a bit different was a bit comforting. He stepped into one of the rooms, humming softly what must have been the tune to some kind of movie sound track, though was mostly inaudible, wandering into the center of the square layout and taking a look out the one window. He liked the room, he decided, though he supposed he would wait to see what Valkyrie would have preferred. It wasn't as if it was a big deal, though people had a habit of letting him have what he wanted and backing away slowly. Which, of course, there was nothing wrong with getting what he wanted, either, so it wasn't as if he really bothered questioning it.

Only a few moments passed, and he'd passed back over to the living room, hovering by the couch and debating whether or not it was really a polite move to go about waking the girl. In another moment, he supposed she could always just go back to sleep after whatever necessary formalities were taken care of. He gently reached his hand forward, leaning a bit, his long ponytail hanging over his shoulder, to grab one side of her headphones and lift it away from her ear.

"Excuse me?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bright Character Portrait: Aiden Laurel

0.00 INK

#, as written by Vinn


In nothing but his boxers and a pair of cotton socks, Doctor Bright reclined in his large, tiered office space overlooking the lab adjoining. It was a real luxury set-up, with banks of glass monitors lining the walls, and projected monitors winking in and out of existence. He had his feet up on the lab's control deck and staring up at several of these monitors, reviewing yesterday's notes and recorded video while low grumbles and electronic clicks of an eclectic assortment of music crackled around the room.

A notification window sprung up, light blue and transparent. It hovered near his face, listing the names of several of his consorts; DRw!n, Jinx, Pr4g^n, and N;;n. The first name was blinking.

[5:52]DRw!n: Check weapons system configuration δ right away for human dna compatibility, possible complications with the Bellier mutagens we found yesterday. Also go over all ζ prototypes.

"Uuuugh it's not morning, it's not morning." Bright mumbled when he noticed the time stamp. His hands dragged across his face and rubbed his tired eyes, causing his voice to be muffled. Unfortunately, he still had his chat client set to translate speech to text and what came out was:

[5:52]N0lt5: UUuuHJRGhiieissmmmmrgggg

Which, he could proudly say, was quite accurate.

[5:53]DRw!n: Sure thing. Just get that done before your nice little Moor buddies start looking like Jabba the Hutt.

Bright chuckled at the little historical film reference. But his old friend was right, there were holes in system Delta that they had not quite considered before. Zetas weren't as important, more of an experimental project pushing the boundaries of machine versus human cognitive decisions. Bright hopped down into the lab space and orally commanded for system Delta to be brought out.

Walls slid around, rearranging themselves as out from his lab's storage chambers came long transparent containers and platforms. Bright plodded over, his socked feet making little pattering echoes in the large space. Most of the platforms that hovered around him held different bits of metals, peculiar little mechanics that whizzed to life pulsating or cycling to display their functions. They were just additions or enhancements to Delta, so Bright waved them away, back behind the wall panels and into storage.

The transparent containers were cylinders of various sizes, encasing their subjects in glass and liquid. An arm here, a leg there, many organs and delicate nervous systems. Each equipped with tiny cybernetic enhancements, for Delta was, and still is, his closest effort at making a near undetectable system. He liked to imagine that one day he would be installing a finished system Delta to an assassin. It would be glorious.

Bright waved over the largest container. It contained a tall, lank human, supposedly male, but without any defining genitalia. Most of his systems were displayed with these non-gendered blanks. He liked to keep the itty bits in separate containers.

Pressing his finger to the glass, he intoned, "Weapons system configuration." A bright red light switched on within the container, and suddenly the subject's skin became translucent, allowing Bright to view the network within. Readouts began flooding the surface of the glass, so he slid his finger along the surface and flung them out into the air, allowing more and more information to be displayed in glowing blue projected panels about him. The configuration was in place to give the Moors specific readouts while in combat, advanced targeting systems in the eyes, and general compatibility with the vast assortment of tools put in use. Pretty much anything was plug-and-play. The problem here was when manufactured mutagens are deployed, they start to eat away at the host cells, confusing them and causing them to reject the enhancements.

He spent the next few hours going over every part of the Delta project, moving from one lab table to the next. If the Bellier mutagen would be able to affect Delta's weapons system in any way, it was possible the whole thing would go kaput. Bright cursed Parv Bellier for his stupid invasive viruses, but the only way to progress was through testing. And that would require more parts.

After a quick shower, some nibbles, and actually remembering some clothes, Bright exited his residential suite. He grabbed his lab coat from his office and donned a strange gauntlet that had been hanging from its charger. He had to roll up the sleeves of his white coat to allow room for it on his arm, but they allowed him to continue projecting information into the air whilst outside of his work space.

Bright took the office exit, meaning he had to pass through a much smaller corridor than the lab's exit. Machines scanned him up and down and inside out as he walked through, searching for any anomalies that would not do to reach the outside world. At the end door, a pop up appeared in front of him, merely saying he should drink more water and take a day off. He shrugged and waved it away. The door slid open to reveal that, in fact, it was an elevator. An elevator with a single button. It was pushed and so he went up.

Sun flared through floor-to-ceiling glass walls when he stepped out. Bright checked the digital display on his gauntlet, which had turned clear and hovered around his arm in geometric pieces. 11:03.

It was so radiant and all he wanted was to grab the pieces and get back underground. He grumbled for the storage area. His device lit the way. His lab was located at the very center of the Moorden property, but the storage area was not far. A few minutes and he stood before a door. Someone's dog gave him a curious stare as he waved at the door's keypad.

When he entered, Bright was surprised that he was not alone today, though the pet dog should have clued him in on that. "Alright?" he greeted. "Haven't seen your round these parts before. New? Contract work?"

Navigating his gauntlet's display interface, Bright brought up the list of items he would need to acquire to continue his research downstairs. "Scan" he muttered, and when held out his left hand, a blue pulse of light swept over the piles of junk. And then, "Locate", and many objects glowed blue. They were all the items that fit the description on Bright's little shopping list. His program had done half the work locating all the possible ones for him, but it would take some astute work to find and choose the best bits.

Bright cracked his knuckles as readouts began popping up all around him, displaying the specifications of each object. "An expedition in the search of buried treasure. Great morning, hm?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Glass Character Portrait: Valkyrie

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Stirring, she responded with a muffled groan, lids heavy from sleep. Instinctively she attempted to turn away from the disturbance, her head tugging at the band of her headphones. However, in meeting resistance, her half conscious state grew confused before realization slowly dawned. Opening her eyes, Valkyrie turned toward the voice and found herself face to face with a man. Her dreamy gaze sharpened instantly, widening to take in the figure leaning over her. Red hair, long as well, the tips a sharp contrast against the pale, unblemished skin. Blue eyes wandered up, following a sharp jaw before reluctantly confronting his expression. She was right to do so for his was one of stoicism, her anxiety colouring his eyes in an imposing green. Muted with fear, Valkyrie simply reacted, her legs scrambling across the couch. She lifted herself to a reclined position with her arms at a slower speed, all the while maintaining a deer in the headlights expression. She tried to speak but words abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself. It wasn't until her partner was about to speak that Valkyrie snapped out of her terrified daze. "I'm sorry..hello. You must be my partner." She made a feeble attempt at a smile which only half-heartedly masked her discomfort. Time ticked away in her mind, though reality passed at a considerably slower rate. "...You're Glass...I remember you." She added, after what felt like an eternity. Having connected the stranger with a name, Valkyrie sensed the two time streams merge together, her fear temporarily subsiding. Her shoulders fell to a relaxed height as her arms wrapped protectively around her legs, her toes slowly digging into the cushions. In her rush, the Moor had completely forgotten to offer her name and instead, focused her efforts in keeping calm.

Just my luck...


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jessica Boone

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#, as written by xRoo
ImageIt almost came as a surprise to Jessica Boone that no one acknowledged her disappearance, almost. In all honestly, she believed her parents couldn't really care less. At times, they didn't even seem bothered that her sister was gone to be turned into some sort of...machine. That is what she called them. Machines. It was all that they were worth to be called or infections. She had been gone all night, running and leaping from one roof to the next. She couldn't help but come to the conclusion that no love flowed throughout her house. It had grown cold. The second her sister was taken, the Boone family changed.

Wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead with her shirt, Jessica walked abruptly through the front door and allowed it to slam shut. The smell of cigarette smoke reached her nose, as well as the faint smell of burnt biscuits from the kitchen. Jessica pulled her black hoodie over her head and tossed it by the front door before heading into the kitchen. Dirty dishes were sprawled on the kitchen table, as well as a nearly empty glass of milk. Her mother must have cooked breakfast and her father must have left for work in a hurry.

The young woman scooped up the empty plates and settled them into the sink. Absentmindedly, she was cleaning up the kitchen as other thoughts roamed her head. She had been planning, investigating, spying; all things that needed to be done to rescue her sister. She had also been training herself too. She filled the sink up with dirty dishes and soapy, hot water before she opened the fridge for something to eat.

No one had gone shopping for groceries. Three days and not a bit of food in the fridge. With a heavy sigh, she slammed the fridge shut and ran her fingers through her hair. She gathered her strands, pulling them back before clipping them to the top of her head. Just in time, her mother stepped out of the bathroom, greeted her daughter with heavy eyes and a slight scoff.
"Don't drag mud into the house, Jess."

"It wouldn't make a difference anyway, the kitchens a mess." Jessica muttered, side stepping to let her mother go through.
"You bring that up with your father. I'm sure he'd love his daughter criticizing his cleaning skills."
Jesse rolled her eyes before shutting the door and locking herself in.


Hours had passed and she was finally dressed and presentable. She tried to spend as much time as she possibly could to stay away from her parents. Jess made her way to her room, grabbed her backpack, which held a flashlight, paperwork, plans, a book, her wallet, an old hard drive for a computer, and a change of clothes.

She could still hear her sisters voice roaming through the house as she tried frantically to beg her sister to let her stay home. She hated school, and Jess couldn't blame her. The two could have been twins for how much they were alike.
She left the house without another word, ignoring her father's existence as well as her mother who hung out in the kitchen. Jessica Boone let the door slam on her way out, running across the long and hopping over the fence. She took off down the sidewalk until her house was out of view and slowed to a stop.

She stopped at the school, which was a bit of a walk from the house but nothing too extraordinary. It looked like a bunch of kids were having some cheer leading practice. Some yelling out, others were stretching. Why do people waste their time yelling out random rhymes, did it really work to pump up the teams? Jessica rolled her eyes and stopped by the fence to the field, sat down on the curb and sighed heavily.

She needed to figure out where she was headed.

[[My post will be sooo much better in the future. Sorry, been dealing with school and what not. <3]]


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silver Character Portrait: Loki

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The sun was still hiding from her sight, her fault perhaps seeing that the sun would not set until at least one more hour, and as usually she had not gotten any sleep. Strangely enough, regardless of her sleep deprivation, she was more alert than never. She walked swiftly with feline-like movements making no sound almost as if she were a captivating predator, she carefully watched outside and into the city. The young woman was on top of a building walking at the edge with nothing but her bare feet and her white cotton shirt. The coldness of the metal felt good against her bare skin and though it should have made her shiver by the coldness, it did not.

She walked through the tall building until she spotted a small ray of light showing that the sunrise would take place shortly and found the perfect spot to sit down to and do nothing in particular. Silver was a young woman who was always on the move; in fact she could not quite remember the last time she had gotten more than four hours of sleep, perhaps it was another one of the side effects from being a Moor, but there were times in which she enjoyed being alone and apart from everything else. It was in moment such as that in which she found comfort in being alone.

Silver remained seated simply feeling the breeze in her face, she stayed quietly there and did nothing simply looking at the city before she headed back to her and Loki's place.

She entered her room through the window, seeing that it was easier than going through the main entrance, she walked at a slow pace before she opened her armoire and grabbed a change of clothes. She grabbed her usual black combat outfit and left it on her recently made bed as she did most mornings so that when she was back from training she'd have her clothes ready after she had taken a hot shower.

The young woman finally headed to the kitchen and prepared herself a meal before she began her training. She ate her breakfast in a hurry before it would be too late, before she was on her way to school she grabbed her change of clothes as she wouldn't go back home until much later and she would take a bath at the school's showers. Even thought it was a Sunday morning Silver would go every time she could to the simulators to practice, after all there weren't that many people who Silver felt were her equals to be training with and not all of them woke up as early as she did.

She moved quickly to get to school and was one of the first ones, if not the first to arrive to the combat training room; one of her personal favorite rooms of the whole institute. In a haste she began her morning training, one of the things she was most grateful of was the high-end technology which allowed her to train. With a simple click she turned the holograms setting them on a higher level of difficulty than the day before and with it she began her hand-to-hand combat against an orange figure more than twice her size.

She fought as she had always been taught and smiled pleased at herself before she waited to see if Loki had already waken up and would mind to joining her at the school as he often did. Finally, after breaking a sweat she grabbed a towel for herself and placed it on her neck before she moved back to the showers to take her hot bath. If there were other students she did not care to notice, she was far too focused on her training.


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Sibyl Delphi

Sibyl Delphi sat alone in the back corner booth of the cafeteria on the Moorden campus. It was a small place, coffee-shop style, and run by a small group of younger students, who get extra credit and maybe a little extra cash in tips out of the deal. The building was a low-slung red brick building, with earth-tone paint on the walls and a wide glass bay window across the front of the building. From the corner she sat in, the light through the window was filtered through the warm, brown translucence of the coffee pots, heated to bubbling by the low conversation, and poured around the shelves and other staff and student patrons, into separate rays of light and patterns of shadow.

They danced across Sibyl's face, and she closed her eyes and put her head gently against the wall to her right, still seeing the warm light of the sun through her eyelids. Her class books were spread out in front of her, binder paper and notebooks laying beside specific pages. Pens denuded of their caps dotted the table she worked at. She had been studying, or something like it. If she didn't pass her courses by at least the minimum percentile, she knew Moorden of all places would have appropriate...consequences. She hated studying, though, and hated being indoors away from this nice weather, and wanted to be out in the training yards, or on field exercises, maybe a survival drill out in the wilderness somewhere. She opened her eyes and looked down at the pages of her texts and notebooks. They had equations and diagrams scrawled on grid paper in Sibyl's half-hearted scrawl. Her handwriting was hasty and messy. Front and center was a book of navigational charts, a number of tools like a compass and protractor, and a totally blank sheet of paper. She frowned and rested her head back on the wall. She hadn't even started her aeronautic navigations course notes. She just couldn't get into it. There was too much paying attention, too much exactness, too many little fiddly bits of information that are always slipping out of her head, and most of all, too much sitting at one place indoors looking at the damned textbook in the first place. She was tired, both in general and of studying in particular. Homework drained her more than any sparring session. She closed her eyes again, and tuned in her "Radio" to the local frequency.

From the point of view of people around her, Sibyl looked perfectly calm, probably even asleep, the only hint to the racing mind below it being the soft arc of seven tiny round lights curving around her righ temple, blinking furiously in shades of blue and green. She had a reputation as dreamy, out-of-it, and not very connected to reality. Who knows where she goes when she just dazes out like that, staring or pretending to sleep? She was a pain to work with, in most people's estimation, and it had taken ages to find someone who would partner with her. From what she understood, Dorian had a certain reputation for being a few bats short in the belfry himself in a different way, but she had yet to meet him yet, and Sibyl's a very immediate person. Her partner is a problem for later. This isn't later, it's now. Which tended to rub some people the wrong way, and meant her memory worked in an odd way that was full of holes, adding to impression she gives of being far from altogether there.

People tended to assume this mental malfunction was caused by her "Radio". It had been an experimental implant in its first generation, and she'd been a guinea pig more or less from day one at Moorden. It was called The Oracle Implant, Mark I, and it had worked, but not without side effects. Or, as most people would put it--and she might not disagree--it scrambled her brain. But the spacey, distracted, forgetfulness is caused by a deeper effect underneath. The Oracle Implant was designed to translate electrical and wireless signals into equivalent audio information. From the "running lights" arcing around her temple, it's patched directly into her auditory nerves and the linguistic centers of her brain, among other places. And, unfortunately, therein was the design flaw: the brain itself, and the rest of the nervous system, function on their own internal series of bio-electric impulses, that power your muscles and form the substance of your thoughts. The Oracle Implant wasn't designed to pick up these signals from Sybil's nervous system...but it does anyways. She hears it as voices in her head, muttering seemingly random phrases, as if standing in a crowded room listening to strangers talk. They follow her mood and state of mind and body, changing in volume and tone and content depending how she's feeling. When she's upset, it can be very vivid and unsettling. This low muttering sensation is in addition to the Oracle Implant's stated purpose, which it was technically successful in, of allowing her to hear fragmentary "translations" of other electric and wireless signals. Not actual information sent over the signal, usually, but just its presence, some basic facts about it, and for many things their source. A person using cellphone near her might cause her to hear a voice whisper in her ear "Cellphone. Unfamiliar. Long distance." She's also unable to tune to any one "channel", having to mentally filter through all these layers upon layers of excess noise all around her. Hence why she's always so distracted. The Implant also upsets many of the various smaller neural pathways of her brain, affecting things like memory, speech patterns, focus.

On top of all this activity that fills her brain to bursting, humming like a beehive, she coasts in a deceptively detached, dreamy, impish sort of way, like a bird swimming on a river appears to glide slowly and effortlessly, but their movement is powered by the furious padding of their feet under the water where no one sees.

Sybil sat in the booth, over her unfinished homework, head lightly against the wall. She looked asleep to everyone around her. But inside the whole crowd was yelling in her head. The kettle announced itself to her as it reached boiling and shut off. The standard issue Moor interface implant in the forearm chattered back and forth with her biological systems, and they agreed everything was fine. There were thirty-seven devices in the busy cafe connected to the local wireless network. Thirty-five. Thirty-nine. Sybil tried "casting out" as she called it, for quieter signals she might not hear on the surface. She looked for one in particular, one she'd never forget, one she'd last heard before she moved to Moorden. She looked for the signature of her twin sister, Elizabeth's cell phone. It would be out in the city somewhere, surrounding the Moorden campus, though she didn't know where. It was buried so deep, if it was there at all. It was under the weight of every tram car in the city's onboard computers whispering a constant litany of "going-going-going-going", the 1.7 device average for every living human being clicking and chirping nonsensically in her head. There was no chance of catching Lizard Breath's signal. There never was, anymore.

There was something she was forgetting, and she couldn't remember whatever it was. She felt like she might miss something, like there might be something she's supposed to be doing in some other place she's supposed to be doing it. Someone's waiting for her. She's waiting for something, maybe? Did she have class? Miss a test? Have a meeting? That sounded familiar. Maybe she was supposed to be in a meeting. With who? She couldn't remember that either. They were assigning her a new partner any day now, when they got around to it, it was probably about that. Or at least, she guessed so. She was supposed to be doing something right now, she knew, even if she had no idea what, so she gathered her still-incomplete work, and shoved it back in her backpack messily, random note pages sticking out between the teeth of her zipper.

She slung the back over her shoulder and walked out of the cafeteria onto the main campus. Perhaps whatever she was supposed to be doing right now would find her so she could do it. Things tended to work out that way for her a lot. She looked off into the distance or at various objects as she walked, appearing absent and lost, as inside her own head she deftly navigated the stormy ocean of cacophonous noise that boiled every day in her head.