View Full Version : [M]SCAR: Spectral Combat Assault and Recon(IC)
06-13-2010, 04:22 AM
Claire was finding it difficult to keep the wall in her mind from crumbling right now. It all started when the SCAR agents found her while she was trying to stay hidden, something she thought she had managed. But given who and what she was, staying hidden from SCAR was no easy task.
Claire had been born the daughter of two scientists, her father having extraordinary powers, what some may call gifted. Her brother Andrew also had powers, but it appeared, that she did not. After she turned eighteen, and after her parents had died, Claire’s ability to read emotions manifested. Unfortunately for Claire, the power had a drawback. It made it so Claire had to block out her own emotions or be taken over by someone else’s. Something she learned, when she almost took her own life out of sorrow projected by another.
Claire spent a long time with SCAR, trying to learn to control her ability and immersing herself in martial arts training. It helped to discipline her and help her to create her mental wall. A wall in her mind for her to concentrate on. A wall to keep the emotions of others out. Despite this, Claire eventually left SCAR and went into seclusion, attending to personal business and with no intention of ever returning.
But SCAR had found her anyway, and had pleaded with her to come back. There was a problem regarding a facility of some kind and they needed her help and thought her power would prove especially useful. And despite her reservations, Claire still felt an obligation to help. Despite everything she had lost, SCAR was her family and she couldn’t refuse them given that they were really all she had left. And now to be back in SCAR, in her old room, was causing her feelings of anxiety and the wall in her mind started to shake. Fortunately, the sound of the announcement echoing through the corridors provided a bit of a distraction.
“Attention please. The following operatives report to briefing room two prepped for combat immediately; Barry Dye, Imani Jahloo, Anthony Lazzaro, Ann Kidd, Zoey Alexander, Aeon Phoenix, Aaron Williams, Ravenna Drake, Rosemary Baker, Claire Hannon and Ethan Balke. That is all.” The voice over the speakers was male and Claire thought it sounded familiar. But right now, it didn’t matter to her.
As quickly as she could, she changed into her armour and placed the two katanas on her back. She made sure her med kit was ready to go with everything she would need, or at least everything she could take. This was a SCAR mission after all and there was a chance they would need an entire trauma unit to help them. Claire hoped that everything she had would be enough.
It didn’t take long for Claire to navigate the sterile metal hallways which lead to the briefing rooms. Here they would receive their orders and then head out. It was where the order to report had been sent form by the mission commander. Claire was quite interested to meet the man who would be commanding them. As soon as she entered the room, she stopped dead as the wall in her mind started to shake and crack.
This was the last thing she had expected. After all these years, Claire had thought him to be dead, but their was no mistaking. Despite how long it had been since she had seen him, there was no doubt that the commander of the mission was her brother Andrew. Claire pushed against her rising emotions and slid into one of the chairs around the larger table, staying silent and waiting for the rest to arrive
06-14-2010, 05:25 AM
Bear sat with a nervous anticipation in his room, a plain military-style bunk. Everything was nice and orderly; pressed and made bed, footlocker locked up, and the single picture of Cedar Crest hanging above his bed completely level and squared. He knew he was going to be called, but even then he was still jittery. When his name was called, he immediately shot up and walked out, already dressed and washed.
It was a bit of a habit of his to ignore most SCAR dressing guidelines, but he had broken them enough times no one really cared. Either way, he was dressing in a sweatshirt and running shoes, so any passerbys would think he was just out for a jog. The labyrinth like layout of the SCAR corridors took a bit to master, with glass maps at most intersection and arrows pointing to different rooms and levels. Along the way were peculiar sights, like translucent spirits roaming around, heavily armed guards in gas masks patrolling every elevator and surveillance cameras and tinted globes attached to the ceiling, watching everyone's movement. For fun Bear would look into the windows he passed, watching things like weapons training or classrooms with half the students asleep. Anything important or secret took place on the lower levels, behind closed doors.
His personal favorite room, the library, came just before his destined conference room. Behind large double doors were stacks and stacks of holy and historically significant texts. Large computers were positioned in the back of the library, backing up everything that came in our out, just in case a certain careless operative spilled tea all over the the twenty-seventh chapter of the Ab Urbe Condita and tried replacing the damaged pages with ones out of the Aenid. Needless to say, Bear wasn't allowed to check anything out. He decided it was best to keep moving.
Not surprisingly, he was one of the first people there. The conference rooms were way too big for the small-scale meetings that took place. There was merely a center table with about fifteen seats and a desk with a terminal beside it. The only sound made inside was the faint hum of the air conditioning.
"Beat me here, Claire." he said. He walked up behind her, feeling a bit awkward as she didn't even seem to hear him, just standing motionless in front of him.
He had known Claire for a long time, since when he was about eight years old and first taken to SCAR. Her brother was the only friend he had and was allowed to see, though every once and a while he'd see Claire in passing. They never became real friends, only seeing each other for brief times in the library or the hallways and never working on the same assignments.
There sat the most familiar face Bear came to know; Andrew Hannon. A face he hadn't seen for too long. He coughed and turned his head, trying to look like he wasn't paying attention. Not every day you see your dead best friend back in the flesh, in front of his astonished little sister.
"So this is pretty awkward." he said. He let out a forced and stale laugh.
All Andrew could do for a while was watch in surprise as he watched his sister and one of his old best friends. He had preparing himself for this for a while, ever since he'd seen the files on why he'd been pulled back into the damned organisation. Clearing his throat lightly he looked between the two and managed to get out,
"Awkward? Man, that's about the last thing I'd think about."
Bear let out another laugh as Claire still sat dumbfounded.
"Well, onto the briefing, then?" he said.
06-14-2010, 06:04 AM
To say that Anthony Lazzaro led a rather spartan existence would be an understatement. His room, as such, was nothing more than four walls and a mirror; there wasn't really much point in owning a bed if you couldn't actually lie down on it. Regardless, Anthony wasn't exactly whining about he change. Sure, there were some irritating things about it, but at the same time there were a few perks. Floating horizontally above the floor of his room, all Anthony could really hope for was that this near blissful state of boredom continued.
It was with that thought that that, like clockwork, the intercom came on. Anthony tried to pretend that his name wouldn't be called, but he already knew that the universe's sense of irony was just too powerful to let this chain of events occur without him getting summoned. Sure enough, Anthony was third on the list. Sighing slightly, even he didn't know how exactly he did it, Anthony began to make his way towards the meeting room.
He was fairly certain that he would be one of the earliest individuals to the room. He was already in his combat uniform, as the only other clothes he had were a set of rags; R&D had long promised him a set of casual clothes, but budget concerns and a generally hectic schedule had kept that from becoming a reality. His weapons and helmet sat hovering in one of the corners of the room, unaffected with the weight of the earth below them, easy to grab on his way through the wall.
Anthony had, over the course of his time as Ghost, developed a rather unique method of transportation. He glided, roughly at a 45 degree angle to the ground, head up and forward, feet down and back. He had long since learned to disregard the idea of walls and floors as barriers, moving in three dimensions in a way that most normal humans couldn't wrap their heads around. For Anthony, as the crow flies was the slow route.
Making a slight detour to avoid a set of women's washrooms (Even Anthony didn't like to think about the times he forgotten about those when he had been new here.) the man known as Ghost dropped down through the roof of the briefing room, face first.
To his surprise, two people had actually made it here before him. Raising a hand, (or would that be lowering a hand) down towards them in an inverted gesture of greeting. Shorty thereafter he inverted himself and turned to face the man who appeared to be in charge of the meeting. He let out a curt "Anthony Lazzaro, reporting for duty, sir." along with a swift salute. In his experience most of the SCAR commanders were not overly inclined to stand on ceremony, but there was no better way to piss a man off than to forget the greeting if he was one of the minority.
After being allowed to stand down, he turned around to his actual teammates. Still hovering slightly above the floor, Anthony actually had to look down into the eyes of both of the people there, including a man that would have normally towered over him. "Just call me Ghost, everyone else does."
06-14-2010, 06:13 AM
(copost with the fantastic Falcon Red!)
Zoey Alexander had made her way through the SCAR facility to the atrium. No matter how much she loved her work, sometimes a girl just has to take a little "me" time, she told herself. And for Zoey, that meant a false sunlight and a smoke.
As she made her way to one of the benches in the middle of the atrium, the girl removed a cigarette from it's carton and placed it to her lips. Then Zoey brought her hand to her mouth, flicked her thumb against curled fingers, and used the flame that suddenly appeared to get a light. She smiled to herself. Little things like that just didn't get old. She was always losing lighters anyway.
Zoey took a seat and felt her muscles beginning to relax as she slowly exhaled. A few people passed by, a few she knew, most she didn't. SCAR was a big facility. It was nearly impossible to keep track of everyone. But then a man walked by who caught her attention. Probably about her age, brown hair, sunglasses, clearly military by the way he moved, there was no mistaking that. But something about him seemed familiar.
"Hey soldier!" Zoey called out, rising to her feet. She flicked a bit of ash on the ground as she spoke. "Got a minute?"
Sam walked, back straight, chest out, in the prideful manner granted to him by the three months of basic training he took five years ago. He had only been apart of SCAR for a few years, but he took the old Marine saying "there's no such thing as an ex-Marine" to heart. He lived everyday the best he could. His eyes were only one more thing to make him stronger.
Crossing through the atrium, on his way to train his hand to hand, he heard a flame pop up as if from a lighter, but paid no mind to it until a voice followed it. He paused going over the voice in his head. It was a womens voice. Hard, she'd been in the service. Taking out a few more elements from it, he decided on his response.
"A soldier can not reach the class of a Marine ma'am. That is just something your going to have to live with."
He turned toward her and smiled in a fashion indicating a wink behind his sunglasses and came to stand in front of her arms crossed. He looked at her closely, trying to match her shape with any of the others he'd remembered, but no luck. He hadn't met her before. Studying the reds, yellows, oranges, and occasional blues on her face, he addressed her again.
"Retired Sergeant Sam Williams. What can I do for you soldier?" He asked offering his armor gloved hand.
Zoey shifted her cigarette to her left hand and gripped the man's with her right. "Figures you'd be a damn jarhead," she said with a grin. "Zoey Alexander. I was just a corporal. You sure know how to look a girl up and down."
She paused, cocking her head to one side. "I don't know, I just thought you looked familiar. Sergeant Williams rings a bell too."
"If only I knew what the fuck I was looking at." He answered with a smile. "Last tour over seas, damn bomb exploded as I was running towards the building it was in. Concussion knocked me back, flash burned out my eyes." He said letting go of her hand, though kept his smile up, knowing he could see perfectly well just on a different level.
"Alexander rings a bell too. You know, my platoon was working with the Army at that particular mission..."
With a short laugh, Zoey dropped her cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. "That's it. Baghdad right? What a hellhole."
She paused, a bit unsure of how to proceed. "Sorry about your eyes," she finally said. "You seem to be getting around okay though."
He closed his eyes and looked back up at her. "Why do you think I'm here? Check this out." He moved his classes to the top of his head and opened his red iris and pupils to her. "My vision came back, in some ways superior. Thing is, I see everything as if through an infrared scope. Improved my hearing while I was at it too."
"Looks like something out of a movie. That's pretty fucking cool." Zoey grinned. "I never get tired of seeing stuff around here. Have you met the guy in-"
Her voice was cut off by an announcement over the intercom.
“Attention please. The following operatives report to briefing room two prepped for combat immediately; Barry Dye, Imani Jahloo, Anthony Lazzaro, Ann Kidd, Zoey Alexander, Aeon Phoenix, Aaron Williams, Ravenna Drake, Rosemary Baker, Claire Hannon and Ethan Balke. That is all.”
Her eyebrows shot up and the girl gave Sam a sideways look. "Well, let's get going, Marine. I need a few things from my room. We can stop on the way."
Sam laughed at her reaction, and looked up at the ceiling during the announcement. "Aye, lead the way, I have to pick up my weapons as well."
Their trip through the corridors of SCAR was a hurried one. Having to stop by both their quarters stole away several minutes, but the pair made it to the briefing room in what Zoey thought to be impressive time. However, as soon as they put foot into the room, she wished they had taken longer. The stuffy mood in it was suffocating. With the exception of the guy hovering over the floor, the others just seemed to be staring at each other.
Still, Zoey squared her shoulders and gave their mission leader a curt nod before moving to a nearby seat. To her relief, Sam took a seat at her side.
She picked up a finer brush, dipping the tip in one of the many colours that dotted her palette, a purple hue a few shades darker than the sky already composed on the canvas. With it, she ran the colour along the top edges of the painted hills, accentuating the contours, adding to the shapes she had already defined. Painting was supposed to be an expression of emotion. A streak of midnight blue marring the otherwise bright sky to symbolise her loneliness, hints of mauve hidden in the detail to show her determination.
The piece was done without reference, based on a memory long faded to a blur, fact succumbing to her imagination.
A few more minor strokes and she laid the brush down, wiping her hands on a nearby cloth, tinting her fingers a lilac shade in the process. She would let the paint dry before returning to it – Working on it for too long at one time would guarantee its ruin. She continued to tidy her appearance as the speakers crackled, a male voice drowning out the gentle music she had been playing in the background.
“Attention please. The following operatives report to briefing room two prepped for combat immediately; Barry Dye, Imani Jahloo, Anthony Lazzaro, Ann Kidd, Zoey Alexander, Aeon Phoenix, Aaron Williams, Ravenna Drake, Rosemary Baker, Claire Hannon and Ethan Balke. That is all.”
She gave a grunt of annoyance as she instantly began to prepare, packing up her art equipment carefully, not bothering to rush. There was always one SCAR operative that arrived far later than the others did; as long as she didn’t dawdle for too long, Rosie would not be the last to appear. Her armour was neatly placed in one of the drawers lining the walls of the room, this one designed so that she could easily fit her bulky equipment inside. Her helmet was found upon a shelf above her bed. Getting changed at a leisurely pace and grabbing a bag she had pre-packed for missions, she was outside and walking the halls within a couple minutes.
Nevertheless, she had been through the routine so many times it was being to dull. If not for her father, SCAR would never have posed an interest to her in the first place. She would rather spend her adulthood exploring art and culture, without the chance of being murdered by a paranormal being. Perhaps after this mission she would take an extended leave, take some time to finally enjoy her passions in life. The thought was a nice one to dwell on.
But first, I must make it through this assignment in one piece.
She entered the room, ignoring the depressing atmosphere. Despite her time in the organisation, she had only been on a mission with one of the other operatives in the room – The one nicknamed ‘Ghost’, an interesting man to say the least. She gave him a small wave as she seated herself, offering the others a friendly smile as a greeting. She was not ignorant enough to say anything though. There were unresolved matters present in the room and sometimes it was best not to stick one’s nose in.
06-14-2010, 06:20 PM
Ann was sitting anxiously in her quarters. Her ride to the airport was supposed to arrive over an hour ago. As she sat, Ann tossed her travel documents between hands. She was going back to England after spending almost two years in America. Needless to say, Ann was anxious to leave. It wasn't that she had had a terrible time in the states, but more because she wanted to be back home. SCAR had only insisted on keeping her in America for some extra training. Ann had insisted against it, but she had little say in the matter.
The cackle of the speaker blared over Ann's music she had playing. Ann caught her name along with a few others that sounded familiar. It became clear to Ann that her ride to the airport was no longer coming, and she would be on a mission shortly. The airport tickets were shredded into pieces quickly, then Ann threw her passport against the wall. It hit with a small thwap, but it definitely wasn't enough to satisfy Ann's anger. She cranked her music up to a volume louder than what was permitted then she looked furiously for something else she could destroy, but after a few more seconds she settled down. When Ann threw open the top of her trunk one of its hinges broke, she smiled a bit at the accidental destruction, then began to pull out her M249 SAW, Squad Automatic Weapon, for assembly. It was a rehearsed practice that took Ann no time at all. She would need to stop at the armory for the ammunition for her SAW though. Her MK-23 pistol was sealed in another box with a password. Ann punched in the simple code '1111' - Ann hated computers and codes - and pulled out the handgun and clips, leaving the case and everything else she didn't need lying on the floor as she did so.
Ann opened up her closet door to retrieve her heavy combat armor. It wasn't as decorated as other people's armor, but Ann didn't mind, it had her last name printed across the back in bold white letters. To her disappointment, SCAR hadn't allowed her to put the Union Jack on her armor. They claimed it was to protect the secrecy of SCAR. Ann let out a long winded sigh as she began to strip off her civilian clothes and into the armor. After putting on her armor, Ann grabbed her demolition kit, which sat next to her bedside not in a protective case. Ann treated it like a set of keys almost, just leaving them anywhere she pleased. It was almost like a super heroes utility belt with the various pockets containing fuses, wires, tools, and other things, along with the primacord looped through one of the rings. She attached it securely and left her room, but not before grabbing a Sports Illustrated magazine. It was an old issue, but Ann didn't care, she didn't even want to be at the briefing.
Ann gave one last glance at her room, that was now a pigsty, "Hopefully someone tidies this up, because I'm not," She said aloud in her accented voice.
The walk through the corridors was easy enough. Ann had spotted someone else geared for combat and just followed behind them at a good distance. Ann paused at the door for a moment, then thrust it open quickly. The door hinges had most likely been greased earlier that week, or at least that's what Ann would claim, because the door hit the wall with a loud crack. Ann didn't bother to look back though, instead she walked to a seat next to Barry, a familiar face she'd talked to more than a few times.
"Hello Bear, mind if I take a seat?" Ann asked as casually as she could, though her anger was still noticeable to some.
Ann didn't wait for a reply though. She leaned her SAW against the wall behind her and pulled the chair back. The Sports Illustrated magazine contained a particularly interesting passage on the World Cup that Ann began to mull over silently, admiring some of the pictures that had been taken, and reading through random paragraphs of the article. She had seen, recorded, and watched the game five more times already. She was just reading to pass the time now.
06-15-2010, 02:03 AM
Raven sat alone in the darkness of her quarters. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts drifted slightly as she waited for something to happen. When SCAR gave her missions it made her feel useful. It made her existence mean something more than just breathing. The room was dark with the lights off. Raising her hand, Raven eyed the ceiling and concentrated. The shadows wriggled and seem to lift off the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, she lifted them farther and began to shape them ever so slightly. The sound of the intercom caused her to lose focus making the shadows to revert to normal.
“Attention please. The following operatives report to briefing room two prepped for combat immediately; Barry Dye, Imani Jahloo, Anthony Lazzaro, Ann Kidd, Zoey Alexander, Aeon Phoenix, Aaron Williams, Ravenna Drake, Rosemary Baker, Claire Hannon and Ethan Balke. That is all.”
Some of the names called were familiar to Raven, however some were new. They called her name which brightened her face slightly, it bugged her that they used her full name. Rising from the bed, she walked over to her bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. Dark hazel eyes, long black hair, pale white skin. Every time she looked at her reflection, she felt she was torn, incomplete. Something was still missing. Probably her inability to understand what it means to be happy, but what did she know. Washing her face with water, Raven walked back into her room and threw on her light armor she was given by SCAR. She grabbed her black backpack and threw in a bag of candy, yes she loves candy, one of the few things other than Parkour.
She grabbed her 9mm handgun with tons of different ammo, she liked assortments, and packed flash grenades. The flash grenades were useful in blinding the enemy along with increasing the concentration of the shadows making it easier to manifest them. From under her bed, Raven pulled a case out she had locked. After putting in her combination, the case clicked open to reveal her dagger collection. What an awkward hobby to talk to someone about. She had many places to put her daggers on her armor, which she asked SCAR to make especially for this purpose. Having easy access is very important when involving Supernatural creatures. Now she was ready, she left her quarters.
Upon arriving at the briefing room, Raven found seven people already there. One woman Raven recognized to be Claire, although she never talked to her, she had seen her around SCAR. Another man was talking to what appeared to be the commander. They looked familiar, but names didn't come to mind. All the others appeared to be waiting for the rest of the lot to come. Without really thinking, Raven sat next to Claire. She dug out a chocolate bar and munched on it. Being patient has always been her best quality.
06-17-2010, 11:27 PM
“Attention please. The following operatives report to briefing room two prepped for combat immediately; Barry Dye, Imani Jahloo, Anthony Lazzaro, Ann Kidd, Zoey Alexander, Aeon Phoenix, Aaron Williams, Ravenna Drake, Rosemary Baker, Claire Hannon and Ethan Balke. That is all.”
Aeon grinned as he looked down to his hands where his assault rifle rested in one hand laying half on the bed while the other held a rag doused in polish. It was, in his mind, good luck to respect your guardian, which to him would be his weapon. A man who dares neglect his guardian, negates life was what he liked to think.
He laid the gun on the bed for a moment as he stood walking to his closet and pulling out his light combat armor. It was light and the materials could easily be pierced, but Aeon always felt safe knowing that while he was carrying a heavy rifle his mobility could be increased by wearing a light armor. This way during combat, jumping obstacles to obtain cover required much less strain on the physical body and in turn reserving energy for a later battle.
He quickly put the lower leggings and boots on and then slipping the vest over his chest buckling the metal locks tight. His pistol and knife laid just a few feet away on his night stand in a very neat manner, much due to his slight suffering of OCD. It was his need to keep things neat in his living space.
He then turned to his rifle, the pride of his arsenal. Carefully he connected the straps to the weapon so that the strap was not twisted or irregular. He pulled the strap up over his head and across his body as he held the gun now with two hands. His arsenal rested fixated to his body prepared for combat.
Through the halls he traversed until he come out into the briefing room where many had already took their seats or were standing waiting for the briefing to begin.
The Gypsy Queen
06-19-2010, 04:35 AM
Imani was lost.
She was fresh out of training. She'd only graduated a few days before and hadn't yet figured the whole facility. Of course, this facility was easily four times the size of the largest building she'd ever been in before she'd been recruited, which had been the hotel she'd stayed at for the Olympic tryouts. That had been right before she was recruited, and her acceptance of SCAR's offer had meant withdrawing from the tryouts.
In truth, what the representatives SCAR had sent to that hotel to meet her had made sense to her. She had never been able to explain how she could do the things she did. She had learned Shaolin Kung Fu in two days, which was the amount of time it had taken to show her the moves, and that was supposed to take a life time to master. But her teacher's words had haunted her - he had observed that she could mimic his movements to the muscle with eerie precision, but she had not been able to mimic the mastery of mind that should have come with years of training.
She was, in short, a fraud. She could learn in days what took most a lifetime, but it wasn't real. It was a genetic fluke. Her muscles mimicked what she saw, that was all. She could not, in good conscience, think to enter the Olympics for Judo. She had no right. It would be an insult to every other athlete. And she could never compete again, either.
So she had taken the option that had been presented to her. She had thought, she might as well use her genetic fluke for the good of others.
The Program had been hell. None of her masters had been so demanding or merciless as the Program was. She had been physically, mentally, and emotionally pushed to her breaking point, shoved over it, and forced to claw her way back up. But Imani had welcomed the challenge, and relished the hard muscles and mental discipline it brought her. When she had graduated, it had been with pride and happiness. Finally she had done something worthy of praise. She was part of something great, working for the good of the world.
Granted, as a girl in Jamaica, she'd never imagined herself a soldier, but the life seemed to suit her, even if she still hadn't quite adjusted to the noise of gunfire.
And today she had been called to her first mission. Now if she could only find the blasted briefing room.
Finally she arrived at Briefing Room 2 and entered quickly, hoping she wasn't too late. It seemed most of the others had already arrived but at least the meeting hadn't started already.
" Um. Hello." she said finally, smiling. She knew she must look like a perfect newbie, and her accent gave her away totally. " I'm Imani." She added awkwardly.
Rho Aias VII
06-21-2010, 08:05 AM
Looking around the room showed a lot to me, the starting fact was that we had at least one rookie in the group. She was Imani from memory, but of course my memory was beaten as she said her name to the rest of the group. Taking a quick breath I nodded lightly and looked around, staring into the eyes of Claire the longest. Thinking quickly I tried to remember as much of the planned briefing as possible; seeing Claire again was more of a surprise than I thought.
Clearing my throat quickly I stood up, all eyes went from Imani to me and I felt a little embarrassed. It had been a while since I'd stood up in front of more than one person, and it felt quite stressful to suddenly start up as a Captain of a squad. Pinching the tip of my nose lightly, I drew forth the cloudy memories of the mini-briefing I'd been given; too bad it was when I was half passed-out.
Sighing lightly I guessed it was time to start, I'd only been standing there for about a minute. Bringing breath to my lungs again, I began talking; "Alright, so most of you wouldn't know me... So to those of you who don't, I'm Andrew Hannon. I'll be leading you on this mission, all I have to say about me is that don't mess around; this is serious business.
So, here's the situation; we've got a building in the middle of nowhere that we're going to head to. It's been codenamed 'The Facility', and a team was sent to it approximately 2 weeks ago. It had a high amount of Paranormal Activity, but after the team went in it went straight off the radar. We wrote it off for a bit, but after the team didn't return; the levels went back up again.
We've had absolutely no communications and we've been chosen to go in and check things out. You've all been chosen for your particular... Talents. That is all, if you have any questions please remain; otherwise head to Docking Station 4 and wait for the chopper and myself." Sitting down I stared off into the distance and took a deep breath, then released it; thanking God that my speech was over.
But the fun wasn't over yet...
06-23-2010, 07:33 AM
Claire sat silent throughout the briefing. She kept her gaze firmly on the table in front of her, waiting patient of everyone to leave the room. If it was for the focus she was trying to maintain, she may have even been a little happy to see Bear. She knew bear form her childhood, and actually had enjoyed his company. He was there for her and provided her support after her parents had died and Andrew disappeared. He was someone Claire cared about a great deal. Despite this, she was using a great amount of effort to keep the wall from crashing down in her mind.
Once the operatives had all left, Claire got up and waked over to where Andrew was standing. She stared at him for what seems like an eternity. All the memories of their childhood came rushing back to her in an instant. The feelings of sorrow and abandonment when she lost her parents and her brother. All of this pressing on Claire caused the wall to topple and her hand to come up fast, striking Andrew hard in the cheek.
“Hijo de la chingada puta madre!!” Claire shouted at him. “All this time I thought you were dead and now I find out like this that you’re not?!?” Claire glared at him and as Andrew started to speak, Claire’s hand came up a second time.
“Did you forget how to use a fucking phone!!” Claire screamed. “Do you know how it felt to think you were dead?” Andrew started to speak again and Claire’s hand came up, striking Andrew a third time as his cheek grew redder.
“Do you have any idea what it was like?” Claire’s eyes started to well up. “ Do you know what I went through?” tears began to stream down Claire’s face and she threw her arms around Andrew’s neck, burying her face in his shoulder, crying.
Andrew gripped his arms around Claire's sobbing figure, slowly stroking her hair back. At first all he could put out of his mouth was, "Ouch, you hit hard hermanita; you've gotten bigger since I last saw you." He gave her a small smile as he stepped back a bit and looked into her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I truly am; but I thought.. I just.. If I came back, they'd either stick me somewhere and expect me to forget my parents or blame me for their deaths. I missed you hermanita, so much; but I was just trying to find a way to live without Mom and Dad.
“Now that I'm here, I won't leave; I swear." He drew back more and crossed his arm across his heart in an awkward sort of salute, he had tears running out of his eyes; tears of happiness or sadness Claire couldn't tell.
“I missed you so much.” Claire continued to cry and her eyes turned black. “I can’t believe you’re here. I… I…” with the wall down, Claire couldn’t keep all of the emotions she was feeling at bay. The anger she did feel, along with happiness slammed into her and Claire started to gasp for air and dropped to her knees. It was becoming over whelming. Using every ounce of her will, Claire tried to focus, scrambling to rebuild the wall and block everything out.
"Claire? Claire!" was all Andrew could say as he dropped down to her level. Looking her in the eyes he wondered what could possibly be wrong, until he remembered what he'd read on her profile; her power. He thought quickly and wondered what to do to help, breathing out slowly he emptied his head of thoughts and emotions; trying to let nothing out of him even close to any sort of emotion.
Claire reached up, gripping Andrew’s arm, forcing the wall back into place. Slowly it formed in her mind and her breathing steadied. After a few moments, the wall was rebuilt and her eyes returned to normal. Slowly rising to her feet, Claire removed the barrette from her pocket and tied her hair back. She paused for just a moment, before looking at Andrew and tilting her head to the side.
“It is good to see you hermano,” Claire’s voice came cold and reflected the lack of expression on her face. “If you have nothing else, perhaps we should go.” Claire was finding it difficult to keep the wall steady. She had to use all of her resolve but she was able to….for now.
Andrew brought his hand up to his chin and thought for a few seconds, then sighed lightly; "Claire, there's something you should know... Before he died, Padre left behind something for you, we didn't know what would happen with your powers or your skills; so he got something for you. He was going to give it to you as a birthday present after we got back from the mission, the last thing he told me was to give it to you.. I think it's time I did that."
Turning slowly he went over to a large footlocker he'd had placed in the room; it had his gear in it so he wouldn't have to walk far for his gear. Opening it he picked up the item directly on top of the whole mountain of gear, stepping up slowly he handed it to Claire; "This is yours Hermanita, take care of it and.. We’ll, head to the chopper when you're ready."
As Claire took the box, cracks began to appear in the wall and her emotions started ot seep through. Claire fought to keep her focus, concentrating on her breathing. Slowly she opened the box to reveal two HK USP .40SW in holsters along with a small envelope. Even though Claire didn’t really use firearms, it was still something from her parents and she would cherish them. She slid the envelope into one of the pockets on her armour, not wanting to risk the destruction of the wall and attached the holsters to her belt. Checking the ammo, she noticed it they were EM rounds, something that would no doubt come in handy.
“Okay, let’s go,” and with that Claire and Andrew headed off towards the hangar bay
The hot sand of the New Mexico desert swirled in the air as the chopper came in for a landing next to what appeared to be a small farmhouse. There was nothing extraordinary about either the house, or the patch of sand it stood on. The house itself was made of wood and the paint on it was peeling and cracked with age. It looked as though no one had been here inn a long time.
The blades of the pave low wound down and the hatch on the chopper opened. Claire was the first to step out. She walked a few feet away form the chopper and stared at the small house. Removing her cell phone, Claire pushed a few buttons and pointed it at the building. Claire watched the SED(spectral energy detector) as the levels continued to rise.
Claire took the barrette out of her hair and pulled her bangs down to cover her eyes. She hated her power, hated everything about it. How it didn’t allow her to have any real sense of emotion for herself. But she also hated what it did to her eyes. The inky blackness that became her once green eyes. It was something that made people feel uneasy and made Claire feel awkward, not mention that she had actually been mistaken for a demon in Detroit. Reaching out with her powers, Claire felt for any emotions coming from within the structure.
“Nothing…” Claire spoke to Andrew who had just come up beside her. “I feel… nothing.”
(co op with Francois)
06-25-2010, 11:53 PM
Aeon looked curiously at the man whom had took his standing before the team. It was the first time that he had ever laid eyes on the man and really the trust level was low for Aeon. It was common for anyone that Aeon had just met to be placed on an invisible scaled imaged only in Aeon's imagination. He liked to think of five levels, with red at the bottom and blue to the top and the various hues leading to each other. Red was where he could only imagine this Hannon guy, especially since he was authority and probably willing to sacrifice even a soldier's life for his goal.
Aeon shook the thoughts and went back to listening to the briefing realizing he was doing what he had dreaded the most his entire life, he was labeling the man with his own judgments before even getting to understand or know him. His eyes went back to seeing what was before him, a briefing...at least something was a courtesy.
"So, here's the situation; we've got a building in the middle of nowhere that we're going to head to. It's been codenamed 'The Facility', and a team was sent to it approximately 2 weeks ago. It had a high amount of Paranormal Activity, but after the team went in it went straight off the radar. We wrote it off for a bit, but after the team didn't return; the levels went back up again."
"Of course," thought Aeon to himself as he listened to the details. "The paranormal always seem to choose somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps it's so that while they're ripping you apart your screams won't attract anyone." He didn't like musty old buildings, they gave him allergies sometimes and due to his training to be silent and unnoticed he had always needed to exercise caution around dust to avoid sneezing."
"We've had absolutely no communications and we've been chosen to go in and check things out. You've all been chosen for your particular... Talents. That is all, if you have any questions please remain; otherwise head to Docking Station 4 and wait for the chopper and myself."
"Yes sir," replied Aeon as he stood turning towards the hallway that lead to the Docking Station. He collected his bag that sat next to his feet and began to move to the entrance of the room. Just as he had made it halfway down the hall he could hear someone, a female, shouting although her words were unclear from that distance. He stopped for a moment and looked over his shoulder in curiosity. Was she screaming for help, was she angry, or was she just simply training?
"Is it really my business," he asked himself debating to turn back and go check on whoever it was, but he just shook it off his mind not wanting to get involved. "Probably not."
Quickly he jumped down from the helo landing softly on the sandy terrain of the desert and looking ahead at the girl that had already moved several feet away. She was scanning the levels from what he could tell through the sand blowing across the visor of his armor. He waited patiently for orders or any sign to infiltrate the building alongside the other operatives.
Just as he had looked to the right alongside the farmhouse he could spot sand building over a lump and then partially sliding off the object revealing a carcass just before the wind covered it over again. This was part of his specialty to spot the dead, his ability required exploiting the death of organisms afterall.
"Carcass," he announced as he swiftly closed in on the creature and removed a brush from his belt and begun uncovering the carcass. It was vital that anything covering a carcass was removed without physical touch from himself to avoid causing more damage, else he would only see himself in the vision since he was the last to harm the body. It was always important that only the last thing to harm the corpse caused anything harmful even if the creature was now dead, if Aeon had broke another bone or tore another piece of skin by accident, the vision would reflect him and this could easily be done while pushing sand from the corpse.
After a patch of the body had been gently cleared from the carcass, Aeon removed his glove and touched the flesh of the creature softly feeling its life force fill through his palm.
The coyote moved alongside the house quietly. He was after something, perhaps prey? In any case it almost seemed like it was scared to get too close to the "Facility". Easily it came around the corner of the house, the corner it died, and stopped as it's eyes darted down. The dogish creature growled violently before the shape of a black stinger come up from the sand and caught the coyote in the leg.
--Vision locks onto the stinger--
The blackish scorpion crawled away quickly, a murder indeed. A murder in nature. The scorpion disappeared under the cracks of the house and so did the vision.
Aeon pulled his hand back slowly and replaced the glove over his hand. The results were useless, but it was always a good idea to check a carcass to make sure nothing paranormal had killed the creature.
"Black Scorpion," he mumbled as he pushed aside the dirt on the coyote's leg. "Stung him here, the dog died soon after."
He then turned to face the rest of the team and made his way back near the chopper where he took his place again waiting for orders.
06-26-2010, 05:36 AM
The helicopter flew comfortably and level for nearly the entire flight with almost no mishaps. Everyone stayed relatively quiet save for the small talk and meet-and-greet chatter. Bear was undoubtedly awkward sitting next to Claire and Andrew, though they were able to refrain from any fighting in front of the rest of the operators.
Dust kicked up from the helicopter as it took off from the drop-off point, sending a few people into fits of sneezing. Bear covered his eyes and wiped off the dirt. The desert sun was beating down particularly powerful today, taking a toll on everyone in their SCAR kit. Claire began to scan the decrepit and derelict building. It was more of a shed, really; curled and chipped paint with broken, grime covered windows. It was like a part of the mock towns that used to get nuked by the US Army.
"Location, location, location."
He laughed. Never did they have a mission in, say, Barcelona or Greece. It was always eating dust out in the middle of the desert or skulking around in a serial killer's basement.
He took this time to prepare his equipment. He slid on the helmet that hung on his side and wiped the dust that had settled on the glass. If protected his eyes from the sun completely. A few button pushes on the side revealed the interior system of the customized helmet; his name was in green text on the side along with his internal body temperature and room temperature. His breath was analyzed on the spot, though only right now revealing his blood alcohol content at 0.024.
One of the other operatives he'd never seen before mulled about a bush near the house, kneeling over what looked like a…
It wasn't much of a weird occurrence to have operatives interested in the dead, but it'd been minutes within landing and it'd already began. He seemed to look like he knew what he was doing, though. He ran his fingers delicately over the four-legged creature, brushing the dirt off of its leg.
"Black Scorpion. Stung him here and the dog died soon after," he spoke.
"Impressive," Bear whispered, "A SCAR operative with a useful talent with dead bodies."
"He's probably popped open a few cold ones in his day," Adam said dryly.
Adam was an operative on the previous mission into the facility. Bear was chosen to house his salvaged wayward soul due to his mental ability to resist total possession. It was a bit nice to have company whenever he wanted, but the rude comments in the shower and tireless boredom while he read was a bit… annoying.
Claire had finished her scanning of the house and Andrew seemed a little hesitant to enter the house.
"It's hot out here, shouldn't we be getting a move on, then?"
06-26-2010, 08:05 AM
"Ethan, what would I do without you..."
Ethan weakly raised his hand, to touch his mother's arm. He gave a similarly weak smile and choked out a few words; "Don't worry mom. I'm not leaving you. Not yet"
A tear trickled down the young boy's cheek. His mom's eyes watered up with his. They stared at each other for a few moments, before high pitched squealing sound filled the hospital room. It was that cliche sound of a flat-lining patient, dying strapped to a machine.
Doctors and nurses rushed into the room, and pushed Ethan's mom back without a word to her. They started to work on Ethan in whatever way they could. They yelled typical things, like "We need a crash cart, stat!".
Nothing was working. The high pitched squeak kept on whaling, and Ethan's mom was on her knees crying by that point. Her face was buried into her hands, her hand were wet from tears.
A nurse wearing pink scrubs pulled a device from the crash cart, and put it over a young Ethan's mouth. He breathed into it, as a doctor pushed on Ethan's chest. CPR was like a last resort. Ethan's mother knew she had lost her son.
The room got silent, as all the people in the room felt saddened by the loss of such a young life. One doctor turned around, and helped the mother to her feet. He escorted her out of the room.
"Nurse, time of death?" A man said to a male nurse.
He frowned, looked at the clock, and said, "6:57 p.m. October 11th. It was the kid's 10th birthday."
Twenty-two years later, Ethan woke up with a sigh. He's had that same damn dream so many times recently. He still hadn't gotten used to it. After the whole event, he thought he'd never return to that hospital again. But his dreams disagreed.
Someone started to bang on Ethan's room's door. A disgruntled Ethan stood up, and walked to the door, he opened it and saw some intern standing there.
"Uh, mister Ethan Blake?" He said timidly.
"Yeah. That's me, kid." Ethan replied, in a deep, tired voice.
"I hate to interrupt you but they sent me down to get you."
"To get me? Shit what did I miss? I was sleeping." Ethan sounded irritated now.
"Oh! They, uh, called you to the briefing room." The intern was more scared now.
"Ah. Thanks kid. Now get out of here." The Intern hurried away.
Ethan hurried to the bathroom, so he could get ready. He took an extremely fast three minute shower, and dressed lightly. His armor was packed in a duffel bag so he could get ready on the way to the mission.
He looked in the mirror, and rubbed the scar on his face. His lips puckered, and he grunted. He wanted that stupid memory to get out of his head. It's been twenty years since he was hit by a truck, and died, but he couldn't get over it.
"Jesus Jimmy, get the fuck in here!" A man in a white coat yelled out the door, to the man who was standing with Ethan's mom.
Jim tapped the mom's shoulder, and walked back to the room.
"What's going on?" Jim said.
"This kid. He's breathing." The man said shocked, the line on the machine was still flat.
"That's impossible! His heart is stopped. The kid's dead." The doctor, Jim, looked back out the still-open door. Ethan's mom was standing there, her eyes open wide. Jim shut the door.
From that day on, Ethan could see spirits. He was technically dead, but he was still breathing. He made friends that were ghosts, and he also made enemies.
Ethan turned around, and looked at his shoulder in the mirror. A long, red scar went from one shoulder to another. He got it in a fight with a ghost on his 21st birthday. That was when he learned he could touch them at all. The bastard tried to kill an innocent little girl who was lost at a Mall.
Ethan didn't have time to remember the whole thing. He grabbed his bag, and walked out his door and made his way to the briefing room.
Damn, I wish I could just take my mind there Ethan thought to himself. If he tried to use his remote viewing power, he'd just stand there while his soul went to Briefing. No one would know he was here.
When Ethan was still getting used to his powers, he tried to focus on his own spirit. That led to seeing himself outside of his body. Later he learned to control the soul. Of course none of it made sense.
He walked into the Briefing room, and saw all the other operatives sitting there. Not longer later, Andrew gave his speech, and they were all off to the helicopter for the mission
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The Pave Low touched down, and Ethan got out after a few other operatives. He used his hand to shield the Sun from his eyes, and instantly started to sweat a hot sweat.
"You weren't joking when you said the middle of nowhere, huh?" He said to Andrew. "Can we hurry up and get in the shade?" Ethan laughed to himself.
06-26-2010, 04:58 PM
One of the things that never failed to put Anthony Lazzaro in a good mood was transport. It was a simple task, just move from point A to point B, preferably not making any highway bypasses on the way, in the minimal amount of time. Why did this make Anthony happy? Simple. Helicopters didn't work on him. Neither did planes, or cars or, well, anything. When it came to him, the metal couldn't touch him, couldn't push him forward, couldn't do anything to him. As a result, Anthony had to get wherever the team was going under his own power and that was always a lot of fun.
He gave a quick nod to Rosemary, adding "I'll talk to you on the other side" before pushing himself up and through the roof. It was good to see her again, and it was always nice to be working with someone who you'd met before. It took a few minutes for the helicopter to get up off the ground but as soon as it was, Anthony was drifting right alongside it, lazily floating on his back. Something that most people didn't appreciate about his particular mode of transport was that he wasn't 'flying' or even 'floating' in a conventional sense. There was no constant energy output, he didn't need to keep pushing himself to maintain the same speed because there was literally nothing to slow him down. He lived in a perfect frictionless vacuum. He was a physicist's dream come true, but then again, he proved that matter could occupy the same space at the same time. Maybe he was a nightmare as well?
Regardless, it still a lot of fun to be whipping along, racing a helicopter as it flew, spiraling into the cabin or into the blades if he felt like it. Sure, working for SCAR was hard, that was an understatement of the highest degree. At the same time however, moments like this, they were cool. There really wasn't any other way of putting it.
As a result, when the helo touched down in the middle of the desert it came as something of a disappointment to Anthony; playtime was over, now the hard stuff began.
He didn't have any orders for the moment, so he stayed aways from the barn, musing to himself. "Y'know, I really have to wonder, does SCAR expect this sort of thing to happen? I mean seriously, The Facility, an abandoned looking farm in the middle of a desert, the actual thing far down below the earth. Could they not have chosen a slightly less ominous setting? Yeah, I understand the need to stay remote, but it's like they specifically chose this place to be creepy after it was inevitably overrun. What the hell would a setup like this do to morale? Not that that probably mattered to them anymore..."
It was with that morbid thought that Anthony made his way forward. Time to get this thing started.
The Gypsy Queen
06-29-2010, 02:30 AM
The air in New Mexico was dry and hot and seemed to sap the moisture from Imani's lungs. Heat was nothing new to her, but this was not the soft, humid heat of Jamaica filled with the sounds of an island. This was a high, dry, silent heat that was remorseless and relentless.
Imani squinted in the dust, coughing lightly as grime invaded her lungs. She followed the one who had spoken at the briefing, and felt guilty because she could not recall his name. Her guilt doubled when she caught her legs mimicking his motion for motion. She had to forcefully will herself to move on her own. Even a year in the Program had not fully managed to undo a lifetime of habit and positive reinforcement.
There was a little niggling feeling in her stomach she had not been able to shake. She was surrounded by soldiers, trained killers. She could mimic their ease and confidence almost as easily as she could mimic their trained motions but it did nothing to soothe her worry. She had a nagging thought in the back of her head that she didn't belong in this God-forsaken patch of desert that had seen neither rain nor humans in a long time. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was just as much of a fraud here as she was in the Olympic tryouts.
She resisted the urge to bite her lip and set her jaw and shoulders. She had passed the Program, and it had been on her own merit, based on her own hard work, sweat, and blood. She wouldn't have been called to the briefing room if she didn't belong here.
She followed the other operatives' lead and did not add to the string of comments that had been made, mostly in a determined effort to concentrate on the job at hand and partly out of fear of looking even more like a greenhorn than she already did.
07-01-2010, 07:05 PM
Sam was always a bit nervous in the air. It never affected his ability to his duty, but it was just a sense of uneasiness that stuck with him from Marine tech school and on. He sat in his seat, constantly checking his gun, making sure it was clean, and his pockets, making sure the batteries for his EM-bayonet, which he retrieved from the armory, along with a few spare clips. For a moment he thought he could relax as he eased himself back, but he remembered his helmet. Couldn’t think if he had left it back at the base or not, this was not exactly a night op when he is able to see much easier. After a moment freak out, it was moved right in front of his face where he calmed and focused on the dark blue of the cold, but not freezing, SCAR helmet.
Zoey, on the other hand, felt perfectly relaxed. Her eyes wandered from the scenery out the window to the people on the chopper with them, wondering briefly about what working with each one would be like. As was her nature, she had pushed feelings of nervousness about the mission ahead aside for now. There would be plenty of time to be apprehensive when her feet his the New Mexico dirt.
She gave her companion a sideways glance. Sam seemed nice enough, and although they had only recently met, he was the one she knew the best so far, so it made sense for them to stick together.
Zoey's ears popped as they began their descent, and she found herself chewing harder on the gum between her teeth. She shifted in her seat, nudging Sam's shoulder with her own. "Excited?" she asked, offering a friendly smile. But then she remembered that he wouldn't be able to see it and glanced away, slightly embarrassed.
At the feel of the descent, Sam placed his helmet on and locked it into place looking over at Zoey. “Never been a strong flyer,” He told her accepting her kindness, “I can sit in the middle of a concrete jungle with five snipers hiding up high, and several foot soldiers coming at me from all directions, and be fine, but get me in the air and…” He chuckled looking at her.
He saw her face redden quickly and laughed again, he’d been like this long enough to read emotions through people’s body temperature, as if everyone was their own mood ring. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, especially since were about to tear this mother fuckin’ building up, Oo-Rah!”
They touched down in the New Mexican sand, and filed out looking at the building. The inside of it looked quite cool, he noticed from the windows, but the outside made him feel uncomfortable in his black suit. Sam looked over at Claire keeping an eye on her body temperature, once she made her announcement, he looked back at Zoey wondering if she had something to say.
In the air, Zoey couldn't help but grin at Sam's enthusiasm. But her smile evaporated quickly in the desert sun as soon as her feet were on the ground. The general mood of the group had gotten more and more uneasy, which didn't do well for her own nerves. Despite all the technology in the world, nothing was a better preparation for things to come than good old instinct. And if her collegues were nervous, that wasn't a good sign.
Did she have time to have a cigarette before they went in, she wondered? Probably not. Zoey snapped her gum and gave Sam a shrug when he glanced over, doing her best not to portray her discomfort.
Sam looked back at the building letting all of the other operatives do their thing to prepare themselves. There wasn't much he could do, other than listen, until they got inside. But, of course, he had no idea what to look for. If there's a demon in there, they were screwed, he would probably be going in there blind, nothing to see except darker shades of red, anything else would likely show up cold. He didn't like this. There was something powerful in there, they all knew it, but this was their life, this was their job. Not much to do now except go in and face it head on.
(Co-op with the lovely always amazing Anne Bonny)
07-03-2010, 05:22 AM
Ann still had her issue of Sports Illustrated with her on the helicopter. She wasn't necessarily reading it anymore, instead she was forcing herself to focus on anything besides the helicopter. She was fine being on fixed wings, but the whirlybirds were a different matter. They were always shot down in movies or got caught in telephone wires. Being in a helicopter was always bad news in a movie, and Ann didn't see this as anything different. The team was supposed to be traveling into a hostile facility with unknown amounts of enemies, and unknown threat levels. It was a recipe for disaster in Ann's mind. It wasn't until about five minutes before landing that Ann looked outside the helicopter. She quickly turned her attention to readying her SAW. Ann took her time attaching the bag of ammunition and setting the first bullet into the chamber. When she was satisfied with the completion of such a simple task, Ann turned her attention towards the now visible facility, imagining how big the complex was and what it contained. Ann could feel the dark energy emanating from it.
With both feet firmly planted on the ground, Ann was much more calm. The dust that was being blown from the wind and helicopter did sting at her eyes, but she wasn't worried about that, she was trying to find her Sports Illustrated. She thought she might have left it on the chopper, but she didn't dare get back on the bird.
Imani watched one of the other operatives looking for something, and, eager to be helpful, she jogged back onto the helicopter and retrieved a magazine. She hurried back out and handed it back with a small smile. She'd made friends yet and hoped she might soon.
Ann took the given magazine, half grateful she got it back and half that she didn't have to climb back on the helicopter, "Thanks..." Ann paused waiting for a name to come to her, "Excuse me, I don't think I know your name."
Imani laughed a bit and offered her hand.
" Yeah girl, it's Imani. What's yours?" she asked, unable to keep her island accent out of her voice.
"Names Ann, where are you from? I like that accent," Ann asked with a touch of interest.
" Jamaica." Imani said plainly, thoughts of sunkissed sands and warm salty breezes in her mind, a fair cry from the dead heat of the forsaken place she found herself in. " Whatta 'bout you?"
"Britain, and I was supposed to fly back earlier today, but I guess I got roped into this... Mission," Ann replied, a bit of anger flared up inside Ann thinking about how she was shafted by SCAR.
" Have ya been with SCAR long?" Imani asked, hoping to garner some words of advice or wisdom... her hands were still shaking slightly with nervousness, but she was loathe to let her inexperience show.
Ann smirked, "The first bit of advice I can give you is to get out of SCAR before they screw you too much, because the more you give them, the more they want. That won't do you much good out here though," Ann sighed, then added, "Just follow your instincts, they're usually right, and keep a level head. It'll do you a lot of good. Last of all, and maybe the most important thing to remember, don't go out on your own."
Imani nodded, mentally reciting what Ann had told her for a moment before she remembered to smile. She noticed she had unknowingly stepped a bit closer to the other woman.
" Is it dat obvious?" she asked quietly. " Me bein' new." she elaborated quickly.
Memories of Ann's first mission began to play in her head. She had been as nervous, or maybe more, than Imani seemed. Ann figured everyone showed it, it was human to be nervous of the unexpected.
"Yeah, but don't worry about it, Imani. Its natural to be nervous, I'm bloody nervous myself," Ann said, matching Imani's quiet voice.
Imani nodded and smiled. " Thanks. So. We gotta job to do, huh?"
"That we do my friend," Ann replied with a smirk as she pulled up hard on the cocking lever of her m249 SAW.
[Coop brought to you by me and Gypsy]
Rosie was content within the chopper as they made their journey. She was never plagued by boredom, content to stare absently into space. Her mind wandered, conjuring images of what seemed to be a past life to her now. She had been reminiscing more those last few weeks. The longer she pondered on such things, the more she regretted dedicating her life to SCAR. Childhood memories flashed through her mind. Things were so much simpler back then - How she wished she had treasured those years whilst she could.
She had once thought that everything would be laid on a silver platter – A job she loved, a husband who cared for her and the perfect children. Instead, she had had to learn to be content without the cliché back-story. Her time was dedicated to work and her hobbies and she could be happy with that, even if recently the thought of working with SCAR for another decade made her heart heavy.
She wanted to travel to Spain…perhaps Italy before the end of the year. Taste the food, wear the clothes and meet the people. Wouldn’t that be so much more fulfilling? Perhaps she was experiencing that feeling of the grass being greener on the other side – Her mind was completely preoccupied with exotic lands and much-needed vacations.
Even though there was work to be done at least she could daydream for the helicopter journey.
She covered her eyes against the temporary sandstorm whipped up by the spinning blades of the chopper. Her gaze scanned over the dismal setting with a sense of determination – She had been in such a situation before; as long as she kept a clear head, it would go smoothly. The warning to expect the unexpected nagged at the back of her mind and she sighed. It was made even worse by the environment. Something about it was putting her on edge.
She kept a small smile on her face however as she gazed around the desert, her eyes coming to focus on the farmhouse. There was no need for them all to be so serious – They had to at least start out with the right attitude.
07-08-2010, 06:18 AM
The helicopter ride went smoothly. Raven thought to herself what could have happened to the people in the facility. Whatever it was, things weren't going to be easy. When they landed, everyone got out and waited for the next orders by Captain Hannon. However, Raven didn't expect to be in a desert. The heat was bothersome, but nothing could change that. She observed one operative she knew as Aeon, she'd seen him around SCAR many times. Spoken to him a little bit, but never really known him. He had a knack for tracking things through death as she could see.
Raven looked at the others who got out of the helicopter. Their shadows were easily seen with the hot sun shining upon them. As she eyed the shadow of a lizard and moved it ever so slightly. Then she heard others complain about the heat. She of course didn't mind the desert just as long as there were shadows. The best part of the desert would probably be the night. The moon was bright and shining on every bit of the landscape. Everything would create shadows. Raven remembered driving at night in the desert with her father once. A long time ago.
Shaking her head of the memories, she noticed the farmhouse everyone else did. The house was old and rough after many years in the hot sun. It was interesting to have a SCAR facility way out in the middle of nowhere, then again, SCAR was just like that. From the many years she was with them, they were always into the strange and mysterious. Strange creatures they would dissect, bringing in people with special abilities like herself, and many other things. Though something felt off. Some odd feeling Raven got from the direction of the farm house. She wasn't sure what, but it couldn't be good.
She heard the operative Claire mention she felt nothing from the farmhouse. Slightly curious to Claire's ability, Raven walked over to her. She stood by Claire for a moment eying the facility and lifting her hand. Concentrating with all her might, Raven felt the shadows of the building. The weird feeling returned, and Claire was right, it was of nothing.
"Something is off," Raven murmured to Claire. "You have an ability to sense feelings I see. My name is Raven, I control shadows."
It was better to be quick with introductions and save long conversations for after the mission. Raven mentioned what she needed to say and then waited for a reply. She looked at the Captain as well for orders.
Rho Aias VII
07-08-2010, 07:57 AM
After everyone had milled around for a bit and some even shown off; I chuckled lightly. It was typical that we'd get a newbie and a few mixed vets, it was typical of them to do that to us. Sighing lightly I loudly said, "Alright, everyone behind me and we'll get this started."
As I turned I looked at the house door suspicously, I was trained to spot things out of the ordinary; and this house was definitely out of the ordinary. Shrugging my shoulders lightly I squeezed the handle, turning it to the side and opening the door; peering cautiously into the beyond.
Not a single thing moved and I continued with light steps, checking every corner and trying to figure out how this place connected to anything. After a few steps forward I almost felt like it was the wrong place, it just seemed like a little shack in the middle of nowhere.
Until my feet fell down into a small depression, looking down I realised that the ground below me had changed from wood to a metal painted to look like wood. Raising an eyebrow lightly I wondered how this worked, it wasn't like SCAR to make it this easy; everything was a test.
Looking around for traps I ushered everyone forward, "Everyone onto the depression and keep your eyes open. I'm going to find a way to get us down," I muttered out. After everyone made their way onto what seemed like the easy way down I looked for any sort of giveaway.
After a few moments I found a coffee machine on a bench right next to the area we were standing on, realising it was the only close enough thing to a button; I went over and flipped the on switch. A whole bunch of nothing issued afterwards.
"Well that was a waste of-" I was cut off before I could finish as the ground turned into a sort of elevator and we were taken down. Confusion flashed through me, this was almost too easy; as if... A trap?
While we continued to descend I looked at the others, some seemed nervous; others just seemed prepared. Shrugging one of my rifles off my back I put it into a ready stance in my hands, but left the safety on; something gave me a feeling it wouldn't change anything.
For as we continued down, a red misty light seeped up from the bottom of the elevator. "The fuck is that," I whispered to myself. Watching it cautiously it continued to rise, until one of the other members fell to the ground; panic blew out and someone yelled out something.
Suddenly the light rushed up and my senses left my body, I fell unconscious and hit my head against the wall; everything went black.
When I came to I coughed lightly and found myself in a dim lit room, the light was flickering and the bodys of my team lay strewn around me. With a fit of panic I checked the nearest body for a pulse, it was still there; with a sigh I suddenly realised I had nothing on me but the clothes I was wearing under my armour.
The panic spread throughout my body as groans and soft curse words were scattered about the room, I was generally fine; but my head felt terrible. As soon as everyone looked in a state of awareness I quietly said, "Well, something fucked up there I think."
That was about the time I realised everyone else had been disarmed too, this was not a good situation.
07-10-2010, 03:32 PM
There was something wrong here. That much was obvious to Anthony as soon as he woke up. He had seen traps at SCAR facilities before of course, they wouldn't really be very secure if they didn't have a few defences after all. The main problem with the traps was that if the facility beneath was compromised, the defences could often get in the way of the team sent in to rescue them. Over the course of his tenure at SCAR, Anthony thought he had seen just about every trap under the sun. He had seen spike traps, gas traps, villian-esque trap room in one particularly disturbing facility, there had even been traps that had the ability to affect things like him. This was new and in Anthony's line of business, new was a very bad thing.
The fact that there was something here that could knock him out meant one of two things. The first possibility was that the light was actually a SCAR trap that nobody had mentioned to them. That meant that there was something in this facility so monumentally important that they gave it the single best defence out of any facility that Anthony had ever seen, and in all likelihood stopped any other locations from having the technology to increase the security of this one complex. The question of what exactly could be so powerful or dangerous that it merited that sort of protection was most likely best left unanswered. The second possibility was that the light wasn't a SCAR trap, but rather something left behind by whoever or whatever had caused the facility to drop out of contact. The idea of going up against something with the resources or abilities to do something that SCAR had yet to figure out wasn't exactly a thrilling prospect. "It's always a good thing," Anthony thought to himself "when you can't decide which of your two options is worse."
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that it took Anthony a while, perhaps longer than it should have, to recognize the fact that he was missing some very key pieces of equipment. His gun? Gone. Knife? Gone. Armour? Gone. This last one was particularly vexing given that he didn't actually own any clothes to have under his armour, save for a rather threadbare pair of boxers. Whoever had taken it had fucking stripped him! Wait... how exactly had they gotten the armour off anyhow? It wasn't like his weapons, it existed on his plane, and only his plane. Nobody physical should be able to touch it. For that matter, how had he been moved? Anthony felt a cold chill run down his spine as be began to realize just how bad the situation surely was.
"Well, something fucked up there I think."
"I think that might be something of an understatement sir..."
07-12-2010, 06:41 PM
Sam followed behind our leader, keeping a safe distance from everyone, but keeping a little closer to Zoey. It felt good being on a mission with an ex military member, even if she was army. He held his gun at the ready but down and safety off. He kept his eyes alert for any sudden changes in temperature, any anomylies of odd heat signature in certain areas, when suddenly we were going down.
He raised his gun, flipping the safety off, standing ready to fire at the change, but eased when he realised there was nothing to worry about. The hair on his neck prickled it just seemed to get earier the further they went. He barely noticed the red light coming from below as they came to an opening, all he really noticed was a tinge of brightness coming up, but that's all he remembered, next all was black.
When he came to, his head hurt a little bit. He shut his eyes tight and opened them back up to pure red, adjusting to the light and allowing everything to take on their own heat. He looked around seeing two people standing, everyone else was down, he reached to his right to grab his gun but realized it wasn't there. He stood up and turned to the two figures. "What did you do to us?" He asked confused taking a fighting stance, fists protectedly covering his face.
He couldn't see who they were, they were significantly smaller than the other SCAR members, due to their armor being gone. He looked at his fist noticing something wrong, and suddenly became aware of the dropped weight on his body. He looked himself up and down realizing he only wore black windpants and a white undershirt. He tensed his body again looking towards the figures again. His eyes could only pick up that they were human. Who were they?
07-14-2010, 06:26 AM
The inside to The Facility was all but empty. Ann paced about the room unsure of what to look for. A few seconds later her captain beckoned the group of operatives to stand on a metal floor section. When it began moving Ann felt uneasy about things. The red light that began to surround her and the rest of the team really put her on edge, but only for a moment before she fell to the floor.
When Ann finally stirred, a throbbing headache was slamming in her skull. She slowly pulled herself off the ground, keeping a hand on her head trying to rub the pain out. The act was futile, but it didn't stop her from trying. Her vision was still blurry, but Ann could feel something was obviously wrong. Ann looked at her hands that were now bare. She blinked hard, then looked again with clearer vision. The feeling of cold metal nipped at her feet. She didn't have her armor, or her demolition kit. Ann glanced around the room and realized her weapons were gone too. She only had the clothes on her back, a black pair of shorts and a shirt with the Union Jack covering both sides.
"That was a trip," Ann muttered.
Ann was beginning to search the room for any of her belongings while confusion swept some of the other conscious operatives. Unfortunately, before Ann had moved too far she tripped over one the unconscious team members. She caught herself before she hit the ground too hard. Ann also happened to land on the body of another team member, which cushioned her fall quite well.
Claire’s eyes opened with a start as she was momentarily winded by the body which fell on her. At first she wondered why it hurt so much and then she realized her armour and weapons, as well as her med kit were gone. She was still wearing the black cat suit she had on underneath her armour; thank god. But everything else was gone.
“Are you okay,” Claire’s tone was clinical though it had a slights tone of surprise to it.
Ann slid away from the woman she had fallen on. She sat on the floor leaning back on her hands staring at the woman and blinking absentmindedly.
"Right, yeah, I'm fine. How about you?" Ann asked, her accent thickening, then added, "Terribly sorry about falling on you."
“I’m fine,” Claire spoke sitting up and then bent over forward as it felt like someone was hammering a nail into her skull. She paused for a moment, allowing the pain to subside and then looked back at Ann.
“Ann,” Claire still spoke clinically, the wall in her mind beginning to teeter slightly. “Do you have any weapons?” Claire rubbed at her temples, her vision slightly blurred from the pain she had just experienced.
"Just myself," Ann replied laughing lightly.
"I don't see how this is funny,' "Claire tilted her head to the side, her face as expressionless as her voice and she stood up slowly.
Ann mimicked Claire and stood up, then sighed, "Lighten up. Its not the worst thing that could happen. We're still alive," Ann said defensively.
"I'm sorry," Claire's tone was unchanged. "I meant no offense. It's just how I have to be."
Ann raised an eyebrow, "Why?"
"Due to my ability as an empath," Claire tilted her head. "I have to keep control of my emotions so that I'm not overwhelmed by the emotions of others.
"I'm sorry, mate," Ann said sincerely.
"It is the life I have to lead," a thin smile appeared on Claire's lips. "I accept it and do what I have to to survive. It is my curse not yours. You have nothing to be sorry for."
"Isn't there some way to fix it? Maybe this will help..." Ann said quickly.
Ann put her hand on Claire's cheek. She began to urge some of her energy reserve into Claire. A warm feeling could be felt emanating from Ann's hand. She didn't go overboard, but Ann did give more energy than one would deem necessary for a quick experiment.
Ann looked at Claire and asked eagerly, "Did that work at all?"
Claire felt revitalized, and felt that her power was stronger after receiving the energy from Ann. Granted, she would have better control, but it would be only temporary. And she couldn't ask Ann to constantly give her energy. Still for just a moment, Claire dropped the wall and was able to feel.
It was something she wasn't used to. She always kept the wall up when other people were around. But for this one moment, she was able to keep control and feel like a normal person. A tear of joy rolled down her cheek as she looked at Andrew and quickly thanked god for heaving her brother back. After that, she turned to Ann, smiling.
"Thank you," Claire spoke with a happy tone.
"Top! Think nothing of it, mate. What do you say we check up on some of these other operatives. You are the medic correct?" Ann said cheerfully.
Claire nodded her head smiling, taking one last moment to feel before reassembling the wall in her mind.
Coop'd with Naz
07-15-2010, 04:37 AM
Ethan examined the surrounding outside of the house one last time before following Andrew in. He stood in the center of everyone marching behind Andrew, and listened to him attentively when he told everyone to stand on the depression.
He looked around, wondering what to do next, when Andrew hit the proper switch on a coffee machine, and an elevator started to go down into the ground.
He let out a nice laugh, and said "Well that's fuckin' neat!" Ethan put his hands to his hips.
Then a light came. A bright light, that seemed not to affect anyone else. The light was white, and blinding, and Ethan collapsed first. Someone yelled, and before Ethan was asleep, he watched another member fall next.
Ethan woke up, with eyes stinging a bit from the bright light from just minutes before. He rubbed his eyes, when he realized something was wrong. It was too easy to lift his arm up.
"Oh, God dammit," He mumbled, when he noticed he was stripped down to his tank top and boxer briefs, "Was that light bright for anybody else?" He asked, as he got to his feet, still blinking because of the light. "Eh. Whatever. It's cold in here."
As he could finally start to see clearly, he noticed that not everyone in the squad was awake yet. Most of them were all laying on the ground in the same condition of Ethan; stripped of their armor.
Looking at himself, he noticed he still had the watch that let him shoot the pistol he used to have. He chuckled, "Anybody want to know what time it is? At least who every took our shit can't shoot my gun."
He popped his neck, and knew he was just talking to himself. The fact everyone was weaponless as a whole was much more important than Ethan being weak solo. Except Ethan did have a pretty nice watch.
Suddenly it hit Ethan. They were with out armor, weaponless, and stuck in a facility that was chock full of activity, and where some of their own SCAR members previously died.
Ethan thought one word, and one word only: Awesome.
07-17-2010, 10:26 PM
Zoey was pretty good at doing as she was told while on a mission. It was something that came natuarlly with his army background. Just let the mission leader go ahead, keep an eye out, and do as you're told. Easy.
And for the first few moments in the old building, everything went just that way. Easy. Simple. Nothing to be afraid of. And while she was far from relaxed, Zoey felt more at ease once the group was inside, rather than waiting outside and wondering what was going to happen. But that all changed after Hannon discovered the secret coffee pot elevator.
It wasn't so much the surprise of the floor suddenly moving beneath their feet, or the surprise that there was a working elevator in a building that seemed to show no other sign of life. What made a shiver crawl up Zoey's spine was the look of confusion on Andrew Hannon's face.
She had barely opened her mouth to ask about his concerns when the light began to creep up from the floor. Within seconds, Zoey had blacked out.
Conciousness came back with a vengence. Zoey's head felt as if it was going to split open, and the events leading up to her passing out were already replaying over and over in her head. The girl pushed herself up from her position on her stomach and she rose to her feet.
"Whoa Sam!" Zoey cried. Her newest friend looked like he was ready to clock someone. She gently put her hands on his and lowered them back to his sides. The poor guy, she thought. Being ambushed was scary enough, even with full sight. "Easy, I think everyone's okay."
Zoey glanced around to make sure what she was saying actually was true. Well they were all alive, at least, even if Claire was crying and everyone else looked a bit disorganized and more than a little confused. And where were all of their weapons? Their armor? Zoey was left in a pair of black yoga pants and a white t-shirt, but a few in her team were wearing even less.
"Nice," she said dryly, raising an eyebrow as she looked from Anthony to Ethan. "My head feels like I'm fucking hung over and you two are in your underwear. It's like the morning after my 21st birthday."
Folding her arms across her chest, Zoey turned to Andrew with a frown. "Was anybody awake to see what the hell happened?"
07-18-2010, 01:57 AM
Typical that the run-down shack would be a mix between an office, a diner, and a serial killer's basement. A gossamer coated every surface, awakening the horrible thoughts of arachnophobia in Bear. He could see the small creatures slowly lurking about in every dark crevice and under every table. Had they stood there any longer they too would become a part of the cobwebs and devoured bit by bit. He stepped slowly behind Claire, hunching his frame behind hers. Andrew had immediately gone headfirst into a haunted den, as per usual.
"Braver man then me," he said.
It's not too hard. You nearly piss yourself whenever an elevator lurches.
The dampening floor slowly sank downwards, with rusted gears creaking. A loud yelp escaped Bear as he clutched his helmet and closed his eyes.
"Don't fucking do that!" he yelled.
You're such a pussy!
"Well that's fucking neat!" one of the team members blurted out. Bear couldn't help but feel embarrassed.
And that's two.
As he opened his eyes he was blinded by a great red light. His eyes stung in pain with his visor not able to resist it. Only images of red splatter crossed his eyes as his breath was stolen. A vice grip crushed his throat as he convulsed in panic.
Then, there was blackness.
He awoke standing. His hair was standing and goosebumps ran across his frigid skin. A telling sign of paranormal activity was an intense drop in temperature. The smell of lingering death tricked his senses towards fear. His skin was bare save for his underwear and t-shirt. It was noticeable his skin was ghoulishly white.
"Jesus fucking Christ Andy…" he muttered under his breath.
Interesting. It's been five minutes and you're already scared out of your mind. Your weapons are gone, somehow with your armor, and you're stuck on the creepy elevator going even further below Buffalo Bill's basement. Ever think about being an accountant?
Bear scanned the others, realizing everyone else was bare as well.
"My head feels like I'm fucking hung over and you two are in your underwear. It's like the morning after my 21st birthday," Zoey said.
He gave her a double take and turned away.
"Hey, Claire, why don't you use your power to guess how I'm feeling?"
07-20-2010, 02:23 AM
The inside of the farm house was empty. It was somewhat dark due to the lack of lights, but nothing else in particular. Raven tried to feel every shadow around her. She sensed only the ones belonging to the operatives, but something still felt off. As they moved forward, they came to a section of wood that was actually metal. Andrew went over to a coffee machine and pressed the button. Nothing happened at first, but suddenly the depression everyone stood on began to go down.
Pulling out her 9 mm handgun, Raven eyed the surroundings as they went down. She imagined the others thought this might be a trap, and she agreed with those thoughts. She popped a lollipop in her mouth to keep calm. Suddenly without warning, a red mist seeped from the cracks in the elevator. It continued to rise causing Raven alarm. She backed up towards the middle of the elevator and tripped over something.
"I am so-" She looked down to see that someone had collapsed. "Shit."
Raven blacked out.
When she finally blinked her eyes open, she found herself in a dank room with the others. Fear rose when her armor, weapons, and bag were gone. All she had on was a white tank top and some small black shorts. She didn't really expect to be taking her armor off on the whole mission so why not dress light? Another thought caused her to panic as she reached for her neck. With a sigh of relief, her Celtic cross remained.
Everyone else appeared to be weapon less and armor less as well. The thought that they were stuck in a building with who the hell knows what made Raven's skin crawl. She picked herself up off the ground and eyed the group.
"Looks like we're either having an orgy or whatever is down here has some messed up minds," Raven said without any humor in her voice and then she looked at Andrew. "So what's the plan, Andrew?"
07-28-2010, 05:33 AM
Claire stared blankly at Bear for a moment before making sure everyone was okay. Had it not been for the wall in her mind, some of the comments from the others may have made her smile, even laugh. But as it was, she stayed focused on the job at hand. And right now, Claire wanted to know a little more about the Facility, and what they might find.
She quickly glanced about the room, making note of the two hallways which exited from it. Down one hallway, the lights were on, but were low. In the second hallway, the lights were flickering. And given that everything around them had a tinge of decay to it, it made Claire feel uneasy. Something about this place just seemed wrong.
Claire walked slowly to one of the walls of the room, extending her hand towards it. She rested the palm of her hand against the wall. The wall was cold to the touch and Claire felt a shiver run through her. Claire took a deep breath and let down the wall in her mind. Her eyes turned black and Claire reached out with her emotions in an attempt to see if there were emotional echoes. And given the readings, there should have been, but Claire felt…nothing.
Claire paused for just a second, before turning back to the group. It was in that second that A wave of emotion, unlike anything Claire had ever felt before, slammed into her. As it did, Claire was pulled into the wall, being flung to her back. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her mouth opened as if to let out a scream which never came. Unseen hands pulled Claire up the surface of the wall and her body started to twitch, blood running out of her nose.
She tried to push back against it. Tried to rebuild the wall in her mind and regain her focus. But the wave of emotion was too powerful, and Claire felt herself losing consciousness. Just before she did, Claire was flung off the wall and slammed into the floor. Pain coursed through her and she fought to regain her focus, before the emotions of the group started to seep in, now that she had been freed from the grip of whatever held her.
Claire pushed herself up slightly, glaring at Andrew and Bear. Even in the gloom, the pain was evident on her face. As well as the blood which had run form her noise, and was now dripping off her chin. Her breathing was erratic and she was trembling.
“Run,” Claire whispered the word and slumped to the floor, passing out from the pain. As she did, the lights that had been flickering in the one hallway went out. While in the other, the lights started to flicker.
The Gypsy Queen
08-02-2010, 07:38 PM
Imani's eyes snapped open and her breath caught in her throat. Everything had been fine, and going well from what she could tell, until she suddenly found herself on the floor and down to her boxer underwear and sports bra. She held perfectly still for a long moment before standing slowly, taking in her surroundings. Her hand went to her neck and she found that even her shiny new dog tags were gone. Her lips pressed to a thin line, she took stock of the bare room and the others, all conscious and confused. Observation could save her life and theirs late.
Before she had the time to observe much, the operative called Claire suddenly was overcome by a particularly violent seizure. At least, it seemed to be a seizure. Blood poured down the girls face and the agony in her eyes sent a chill down Imani's spine.
Her first instinct was to help the woman but she couldn't seem to make herself move as the lights started to flicker. It took her a moment to swallow the fear in her throat and kneel next to Claire.
" C'mon girl, get up."
The voice reached Claire's ears, and though it was muffled and garbled, she opened her eyes and shifted slightly to look up at Imani.
"We need to move," Claire moved her arm slowly and pointed to the hallway in which the lights were currently flickering.
"That way," Claire's voice was hushed and sounded strained as though she were in a great deal of pain.
" A'right." Imani said quietly, gripping the other woman's arm and pulling her up gently. " You in no shape to be walkin'." she added, pulling Claire's arm over her shoulders and her own arm around Claire's waist. " So hang on to me."
"Thank you," Claire's tone was clinical, though the pain was evident. "But I'll manage."
" Like hell you will." Imani snorted in a near laugh. " Hang on."
She took off in a gentle jog down the hall, hoping the others would follow.
08-13-2010, 05:23 PM
Unlike the entrance to the seemingly abandoned building, it didn't take long for things to happen on the SCAR team's current floor.
Her attention on their leader, waiting for instruction, Zoey caught Claire's movement towards one of the hallways out of the corner of her eye, but didn't pay much attention. That is, she didn't until she a sickening thud as her body hit the wall. Zoey turned to see her teammate being dragged upward by some unseen force, blood running from her nose. Something was attacking the girl, Zoey realized in alarm.
The episode ended as suddenly and as violently as it had started, and Claire fell to the ground like a rag doll. By the time Imani reached their fallen comrade's side, Zoey was also moving. She positioned herself just at Claire's feet, facing the hallway the other girl had been staring down. Fear gripped her, but she did her best to push it aside. You don't become a SCAR agent if you can't handle things that go bump in dark hallways, do you? Zoey told herself.
Zoey planted her bare feet firmly on the cement floor, one in front of the other, legs apart and slightly bent. She raised her hands to chest level, palms flat in front of her and pushed forward slowly. The girl closed her eyes and focused on what she wanted to feel... nothing... nothing... and there! Cold, hard, flat pressure against her hands.
Dusting her hands together she turned from the invisible wall she had created in time to see Claire and Imani begin to jog off down the hallway behind her. Zoey took one more glance over her shoulder before heading off after them. There was no way of knowing whether her invisible wall would hold after she moved away, or whether it would even do any good to stop whatever spectral creature had attacked their companion. But in the meantime, Claire's advice to run sounded pretty damn good.
08-14-2010, 01:54 AM
Normally, Anthony found that when someone shouted "RUN!" it was his job to do just the opposite. Him attack, charging or generally pestering whatever threat was following the team could give his more fleshy comrades a few valuable seconds to either get their guns around or get out of the area. Normally, however, he had not just been knocked out and stripped. There was something going on here, and that something was strange enough to make Anthony think that discretion might be the best course of action to take. Well... unless...
The scenario was something straight out of a lazy horror move. Something big scary and unseen, detected by the resident psychic, knocking out the lights as it went to mask its form. So, the solution was simple, right? Stay out of the dark, and you don't get eaten. Well, that was assuming that this thing ran on horror move logic after all. But what was it that they were running from anyways? Perhaps most importantly, was it the cause of the breakdown of the facility, or was it just a consequence? By all rights, this thing could just be a dumb animal that SCAR was holding here for study, let loose when the facility went off-line.
Perhaps there was some way to test? There was only one way to find out. "Let's see if this thing is willing to fall for some bait." Anthony, as was his wont, decided to take the opposite approach as that recommended to him; to a degree at least.
Swooping forward, yelling something largely inarticulate, Anthony hit the border between light and shadow, turning 90 degrees to the left as he did so. It was a movement that spit in the face of conventional physics, but it allowed Anthony to skim the shadow line in the centre of the room before heading out through a side wall. Whether or not it would, or could, come after him remained to be seen, but at the very least he had done something. If it came after him and he managed to get away, fantastic. If not? Well, he had made his peace with the idea of being a necessary sacrifice long ago.
08-26-2010, 12:48 PM
The simple word echoed in Ann's head for a moment before it sunk it. She felt like her feet had been glued to the floor as she watched Claire be attacked. Only when Imani helped Claire down the hall did Ann think to move her legs. She began to run with the others down the hall. The flickering lights gave off somewhat of a strobe effect.
Ann burst through the door at the end of the hallway. Her breathing had increased from running for her life, and it reverberated in the barren room she was now in. The air felt calmer, warmer. There were two other doors, along with one that looked to lead into a closet. Other than those details, there wasn't any features that stood out to Ann. She waited for others to enter the room, and closed the door.
"I think its safe in here," Ann paused, reaching out for any large signs of dark energy, "I can't feel any energy coming after us. At least... For now," Ann replied absently.
Ann let out a huff of the Facility's dead air. Then, looked at the closet. It can't hurt to look, can it? Ann padded over to the door and put her hand on the knob. She twisted slowly, and began to peek into the ever expanding crack of the door. The closet was too dark to see anything, but a sick smell of rot filled her nose. Something heavy fell onto her as Ann entered the closet. She let out a scream before heaving the burden over her shoulders. It felt soft and squishy. When Ann was sure her attacker wasn't going to move she located a light switch. The sight of a decaying corpse caused Ann to gag and cover her mouth and nose in a futile effort to block the odor. The acronym SCAR was crudely cut into the corpse's decaying skull.
With the closet lit up, Ann also noticed a familiar item, it was her demolition kit. She recovered her stolen property, careful to take as little steps as possible in the stinky closet. She left the closet with a tiny smirk on her face as she fastened the belt. It fit a little more loosely than she preferred, but it was tailored to fit with her armor on, so she couldn't fix the annoyance. There could have been other things in the closet, but Ann had gotten tunnel visioned on the corpse and her demolition kit.
"I think there might be more things in that closet. There's a body in there too," Ann said to no one in particular, shakiness still slightly present in her speech.
08-29-2010, 12:54 AM
Sam calmed when Zoey placed her hands on him. If she was telling him to stand down, then the other figures in the room must be his teammates, there was no room to not trust a SCAR operative in any situation they were put under. He nodded and thanked her under his breath, he looked around as everyone started waking, one person tripping over another, of course it wasn't that definitive to him but he could make it out, and he laughed to himself.
He looked around before staying still looking toward the two figures he was about to punch out, thinking back he recognized the voice of one of the men as his CO and waited further orders when suddenly he heard something bad, he looked over to a figure being forced up a wall, he wasn't sure who it was, or exactly what he was seeing...
Even psychics give off a type of energy, and energy gives off heat, heat is what Sam relies on to see, but what he was seeing didn't make sense to him at all. He couldn't tell exactly if it was psychic heat, or a being that was forcing the empath against the wall increasing her body heat substantially due to the stress, he ran over to her and let Imani take her. He held back letting everyone pass him so he could take the rear, he looked behind him to see if anyone was behind him before taking off behind everyone, he caught up to Imani and Claire and looked to them making sure they showed no sign of weariness.
When Ann led them through the door he stopped and looked around, he saw nothing strange in the room. His eyes adjusted from the flickering bright and dark red to a flat red that filled the room, the only changes came from the bodies of his comrades.
Again he looked to Imani and Claire, he took Claire's other arm around his neck taking her waist. "Here, lemme take her so we can lay her down and see what's cut and all." Imani let go of the girl as Sam started to slowly let her down, easing her head to lay back. He looked her over, it seemed it was just her nose that was bleeding from what he could see of the warmth on her face, but she did hit the floor pretty hard. He looked around and saw nothing he could use so he took off his shirt and dabbed it at her face mopping up the blood, he tore a small strip off from the side, up the seem a bit then around the back, and handed it to her to soak the blood from her nose.
"It's a bit harder for me to see where your facial features are, I can just see the warmth of the blood going down your face change." He explained. "Did you hit your head on the fall?" He asked calmly trying to relax her, she was still trembling a bit from everything.
09-17-2010, 08:07 PM
“Thank you both” Claire said to Imani and Sam. “I think I’m okay now.” Claire’s tone was clinical and she slowly got to her feet and examined her surroundings. Of course the closet went to her mind first, but she also noticed the second corridor running perpendicular to the one they had entered from. Down that corridor the lights were off and not even the dim lights of the room they were in cast any illumination on the hallway. There was nothing but darkness. She turned quickly to look down the hallway they came form just in time to see the lights go out in the long corridor.
As they did, the lights in the room they were in started to get brighter. The light became almost blinding and then turned red, giving the appearance that the whole room had been painted with blood, leaving no shadows form anything in the room. Claire’s eyes went black as she reached out to feel what was happening.
“Anthony! Move!” Claire shouted but it was too late. Hands and arms coated in blood, which dripped to the floor reached out of the wall and grabbed Anthony and quickly pulled him in. Claire started moving towards the spot where Anthony had been pulled in and stopped as she felt something new. Turning to look she saw blood had started to ooze from the ceiling. It pooled on the floor and made a sort of slurping noise as it took shape.
It only took a few seconds for the three creatures to form. Each of them were on all fours and had no skin, their muscles clearly visible. Their brains were exposed and covered their eyes and they had mouths filled with razor sharp teeth, form which a long tongue protruded, whipping about wildly in the air. They screeched at the operatives and then moved.
The speed was uncanny as one each leapt at Zoey and Sam. The third darted up the wall and positioned itself on the ceiling above Claire and it’s tongue shot towards her. Claire pushed out with her emotions and attempted to take control of the creature. She could feel it’s primal urges and rage pouring into her. She could feel the emotions of it pressing against her. And all of a sudden, the creature stopped moving.
It stared at Claire, hissing and swaying. Claire stared back, mimicking the actions of the creature as it’s emotions took her over and now the two regarded each other with curiosity. Claire and the creature had become one and to anyone had the time to examine the scene, they appeared to be almost mirror images of each other.
10-04-2010, 05:22 AM
Raven watched with shock as the room became suddenly brighter. Shadows became denser, and her six sensed blasted warnings at her as she looked in every direction. Then the red color came back in the form of light. Though more unappealing was it getting rid off all shadows within the room. She felt naked, blind, without her ability she was nothing. Then suddenly, Claire yelled out to Anthony who was yanked into the bleeding wall by hands. What could she do?
With even more horror, blood began to form something. Raven backed away as the blood turned into terrifying creatures made only of muscle with brains showing. What's worse is there were three of them. Not only that was their teeth and long protruding tongues. Shivering at their disgusting features, she watched as Claire's eyes darkened to black and she turned to one of the creatures that climbed on the ceiling. The other two flew straight for Zoey and Sam.
Raven reached for her necklace as the beasts leapt at the two. Helpless and without power she reached for any possible knife she might have. Nothing. They were all gone. The others were just as shocked and afraid as the situation worsened. Raven then looked at Claire again, fear grew inside her more then it ever did in a long time. Clair appeared to be entranced by the creature above her. It was like she was the creature as she circled it as it did her.
"Claire!," Raven hissed trying to get to her with no luck.
The other creatures were on top of the others within seconds and Raven eyed for anything that could be of use. Nothing but the confused faces of those around her along with the strange creatures in the room were visible. What could she do?
"We need to do something!" She yelled to the others shocked she was the first to speak up.
10-06-2010, 04:29 AM
Ann would have been annoyed of all the surprises The Facility was throwing at the operatives if she wasn’t petrified by fear. She’d just watched one operative get eaten by the room, and three lickers had appeared. Two immediately attacked, while the third hung from the ceiling staring Claire down. To many people this licker would appear to be the least threatening, but the way Claire was mimicking its movements worried Ann. Anything could be happening on the mental battlefield Claire had attacked on.
Without much more hesitation, Ann ran at the licker hanging from the ceiling. Its tongue was dancing casually in the air, making it the most convenient point to grapple. Ann leaped at the monster with all her might. Gravity did most of the work after that, Ann got a hold of the tongue and used the licker to cushion her fall. Her elbow slammed against the floor. Ann let out a yelp that was masked only by the licker’s howl; Ann had most likely broken some of its ribs. The licker lashed out in the blink of an eye, leaving a nasty gouge on Ann’s forearm. She winced, but didn’t stop fighting. She caught one of the creature’s arms and rolled over with the licker, then began cranking its arm up its back until a satisfying pop came from the licker’s joint. Ann hadn’t took into account the long tongue her opponent had, until it wrapped tightly around her neck and tossed her off its back.
Being choked was an odd feeling for Ann. Her whole world became quiet. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes. Her vision became dark and vivid. The hold grew tighter around her neck, much long and Ann’s neck would be snap into pieces. She tried desperately to get a hold of the licker’s muscly neck, but to no avail. Ann hadn’t tried to sap the licker’s energy away, afraid that she might hurt Claire, but she wasn’t going to die without trying. She put her hand on the slimy tongue of the licker and began to pull at the energy she could feel. An immediate surge filled Ann, it felt cold and foreign. A small whisper came into Ann’s thoughts, I will consume you.
The grip loosened enough for Ann to catch her breath. She then quickly turned to the licker, it was now convulsing violently. She brought her barefoot down hard on the wallowing abomination’s neck. Ann rubbed at her skull that was throbbing and began to wipe at the slime the covered her neck and shoulders. She saw that the other operatives were finishing off the last two lickers. Ann put her head to the wall and began to breath heavily, savoring the abundant air, unaware that Claire was now moving on all fours and hissing at her.
10-08-2010, 04:43 PM
There had been a slight sensation of relief when Anne had discovered the group's missing belongings, but it evaporated into terror before Zoey could even make a step toward the closet.
Anthony was in trouble, but the center of Zoey's attention was a snarling beast that had focused on her. Of course. A room full of operatives and this bloody mess decides to go after me, she thought with a grimace as she moved into defensive posture.
The licker lunged, all spit and flashing teeth, and Zoey barely had time to throw up one of her invisible walls before it hit her. But it did the job; the monster hit the wall with a foreceful thump just in front of the girl. It recovered quickly though, and with one shake of it's ugly head it was back on it's feet and circling her.
Zoey did her best to concentrate, but her hands were trembling in fear as she formed around the shape of a pistol in front of her. She squeezed her finger... nothing. Shit!
The licker moved again, lighting fast, and this time nothing stopped it. It's rough tongue wrapped around her left forearm, pulled her forward with a jerk, right into the jaws of the beast. Searing heat tore through her shoulder as it began to bite down.
Zoey's right hand came up alongside the licker's head, still holding her "gun". This time however, through the pain and the panic, she was certain she could feel the weight against her palm, the resistance of a trigger against her finger. A quick movement of her index finger and there was an earsplitting bang, and the wet heat of blood splattered against Zoey's face, the wall, and the floor.
The beast released it's grip on her shoulder, and the panting Zoey slumped to her knees. A shaking left hand propped her up against the ground as the pain was nearly overwhelming. She didn't dare look at or touch her shoulder.
Tears clouded her eyes and began to run down her cheeks, mixing with the blood and gore from the licker, but Zoey did her best to ignore them and find the rest of her team. Another one of the creatures was also down, but something had happened to Claire. Was she just delerious from the pain or was Claire hissing at Ann?
10-09-2010, 03:04 AM
Sam started to stand as a central point on the ceiling began to steadily heat up expanding to its surrounding area, then suddenly went back to normal for him. He watched in fear, helpless, as an operative was pulled into the wall. He watched curiously as three drops fell from the ceiling, and slowly formed into animal looking things.
"Oh shit..." Was all he could say before the snarling, long tongued animals made their moves, one aiming specifically for Sam. Wide eyed, he stared at the charging creature and charged forward himself growling. Sam really didn't think this would work, and was surprised to see the creature stop and cock his head. A smile came to his face as he stared down the licker. "Yeah bitch, whose your daddy?" He asked before the licker charged again.
Sam's face dropped as he braced himself to take the impact, threw his fist which collided with it's neck which was like punching a brick wall, but slimy like a team of slugs. It knocked him on his back and stood over the man who was struggling under it. Its teeth were chomping down on him, tongue licking all along the mans face, Sam's arms pushing against its tough chest keeping him off. He could feel the front paws left up with the combined effort of its bobbing head and his strength keeping it up.
"Screw.. this.." Sam summoned what strength he could muster and shifted its weight to the left and rolled over punching it in the face before jumping back to his feet. The licker was already on its feet starting back its charge on Sam, who was on his toes this time and jumped up on its back punching its side with one fist while holding on with the other arm.
The licker began bucking harder jumping across the room, jumping onto wall and back onto the floor. It was so sporadic that Sam had to hold on with both arms. He held close, not paying attention to the slimy, stretchy tough exterior he held onto. There has to be an easier way... It was then that he noticed a heap of heat pulsating from the creatures head.
The pulsing was something he recognized vaguely when he focused on a persons head long enough. A smile came to his face and when the licker landed on the floor next, it shook trying to get its rider off its back, the pause between the shaking and the next leap, Sam took his shot. He let go with his arms and grabbed the pulsing object on top of the lickers head. It suddenly got more aggressive trying to whip its tongue back at Sam as he pulled, and pulled until it was free from its base causing the creature to collapse under him.
Sam dropped the brain and stood up, a spinechilling shiver raced up his back. He took a moment to himself before turning around, white shirt stained red, black pants glistening with the blood from the creatures exterior, his skin painted with the substance. "I'm going to take one guess and say that, that thing had no skin..." He said glancing at everyone.
11-04-2010, 11:37 PM
The burly Scotsman arrived, screaming, through the wall. He did not know how, or indeed why, he had just been expelled quite painfully from a solid object but he knew that it did not bode well.
The last thing Donnan remembered was exploring an unnamed facility with the rest of his team. His team... One by one each of his partners had been lost to him within the corridors, giving no signs of their absence except a dropped weapon, maybe a few rounds shot carelessly into a wall but always, always a shrill scream.
His mind snapped back to the present. He had landed heavily on the cold floor with his hands outstretched, finishing the expletive with an "oof" as the wind was knocked out of him. He looked up from his position taking several deep breaths. The sheer mix of individuals alone indicated that they too must be operatives of SCAR, at least he hoped so. He couldn't think of any other reason why someone would be down here. Every single one looked out of breath, or at the least like they had just seen something they'd rather they hadn't. He rose slowly, only now realising that all the time since his passing back into reality there had been a slight hissing sound.
A few metres away from Donnan, a red-headed woman was slowly crawling on all fours towards a short-haired girl (she barely looked 20 to the Scot), making that disturbing hissing sound. She was utterly transfixed. He weighed up his options. The girl, like everyone else it seemed, was not wearing armour. In fact everyone in the room seemed to be dressed oddly for a SCAR operation, boxers, briefs, tank tops. He considered his own appearance, bare chested with nothing save a pair of white Y-Fronts. His cross was missing, along with all his weapons, armour and equipment. This was not good by any measure.
The red-headed woman was dressed in a very well fitting black cat suit, lending itself to the gracious yet disturbing image of her stalking movements across the floor. The younger woman she was approaching seemed oblivious, resting her head against the wall. Considering the recent developments, being undressed down to his underwear and seemingly thrown into a room with plenty of other sparsely dressed individuals of which one seemed to be about to pounce another, Donnan almost did nothing. He didn't know anything about these people, or what they were capable of. Perhaps it was the woman's natural behaviour to move in such a way? What if they saw him as an attacker?
Whatever the case, he needed to either solve the problem of the predatory hissing woman or to show the group that he meant them no immediate harm.
Glancing around momentarily, the Scot hurled himself towards the prowling woman, knocking her sideways with his bulk. In the confusion, he locked her arms behind his and clasped his hands together behind her neck, grappling her. She was strong for her size, very strong, like she was fighting with every conceivable ounce of strength. He stood up quickly, panting, as the woman continued to hiss and struggle.
"Right!" he shouted in a thick Scots accent, turning himself towards the operatives around the room "Which one of you crazy bastards knows what's bloody going on here?!"
11-09-2010, 04:47 AM
Claire hissed and wailed as she was restrained by Donnan. Something had gone horribly wrong and the death of the licker caused a kind of mental feedback and now it’s psyche had overwritten Claire’s. She continued to flail and scream, her eyes as black as pitch.
Zoey's gaze was focused on those pure black eyes. After getting knocked out in the elevator, waking up wearing next to nothing, being attacked by crazy tongue monsters, and watching one of their team members absolutely lose her mind, the appearance of a greying man had done little to phase her. While she felt a twinge of selfishness, Zoey was pretty concerned about her shoulder, and she realized that the team's medic was the one the new guy was holding. The crazy one. Shit.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pushed herself to her feet with a grunt and approached the hissing woman. "Keep a hold of her," she said to Donnan, her eyes never leaving Claire's.
"Claire?" she asked, searching the other woman for any sign of humanity. "Claire! Come on, I kind of need you."
Claire screamed,, barring her teeth and sticking out her tongue as though reaching out to grab Zoey. Her arms continued to flail as she tried to swipe at her teammate.
Zoey's good arm moved, and she quickly reached up to grip Claire by the jaw, forcing the other girl to look her in the eye. "Goddamn it, Claire! I know you're in there! Feel me! Read my mind or whatever the fuck it is that you do!"
Claire hissed as her black eyes glared at Zoey. She had stopped flailing and seemed to become more relaxed, as if Zoey's touch had a calming effect on her. Claire's eyes closed and she exhaled deeply as her body went limp causing Donnan to have to change his grip. And as he did, Claire's eyes shot open and she lunged at Zoey
With a startled cry, Zoey jumped backward. "Stop moving!" she snapped at Donnan. Any distraction was clearly a bad thing. For a moment there, she thought she was getting through to her teammate.
Zoey stepped forward again and seized the red hair on either side of Claire's head, doing her best to hold the other girl still. She pressed her forehead against her teammate's, doing her best to keep out of reach of those teeth, but completely unsure of how else to connect. She repeated the girl's name over again. "Come on Claire! We need you!"
Somewhere in the recesses of Claire's mind, she floated in blackness, though she could hear Zoey's voice calling out to her. She fought hard against the darkness, which seemed to cling to her and wanted to drag her down. The more she fought, the louder Zoey's voice became until..
The scream which Claire let out was one of agonizing pain. Her eyes returned to normal and it felt as though someone had hammered a large iron spike into her head. Slowly she moved out of Donnan's grip and dropped to her knees, looking up[ at Zoey.
"Thank you," Claire whispered, trying to concentrate through the pain and reassemble her wall. The lights came back on suddenly, causing Claire to jump a little. She pushed herself to her feet and looked to see who had been holding her. When she Donnan, Claire became confused. She had no idea who this person was. For that matter she wondered if she were hallucinating.
"Zoey, what happened?" Claire titled her head to the side as she spoke.
Zoey gave a nonchalant shrug that she instantly regretted, as her torn shoulder felt like someone was shoving glass into her flesh every time she moved. "Oh, nothing major," she replied through gritted teeth. "Flickering lights, monsters attacking, guys appearing out of nowhere. The usual for a SCAR agent, right? God I'm glad you came out of that though, because my next idea was going to be punching you in the face until you remembered who you were."
Zoey paused and glanced around the room before continuing, but when she did, her voice had gone quiet. "We might have lost one. I don't know what happened to Anthony. But are you okay?"
"I'm.." Claire's eyes turned black for a brief second at the news Anthony was gone as she tried to stay focused. "...fine I just need a moment. Please get everyone to see what's in the other room that belongs to them. We move out in five." Claire looked at the floor for a moment before turning to thank whomever it was that had been restraining her. She automatically assumed that it would be Bear or Andrew. Instead, she stared into the face of someone she had never seen before.
"Who are you?" Claire spoke with her clinical tone, her emotions under control...for now.
(special thanks to Anne with the co op and helping me make a substantial post XD)
11-10-2010, 06:01 PM
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Donnan stood there, quite bemused, as it finally dawned on him he had absolutely no idea how he had gotten to be in this very room, or who anyone else was. He wasn't even sure where here was anymore. The place vaguely reminded him of the facility he had been in only minutes before, the layout was certainly similar, but this place was different. It seemed to be in a much worse state than when he had arrived.
"Who are you?" asked the young woman, who only 30 seconds before had seemed posessed with anger and hatred, calmly and cynically.
"My name is Donnan, Donnan McKendrick of the McKendricks." He gestured to his surroundings "Last thing I remember before this was dragging my sorry arse through this shithole a few minutes ago before it all went dark. I didn't even get a good look at what grabbed me, it's still all a bit hazy. I wasn't aware there was a back-up team, it's far too soon for a rescue operation too. What the hell are you lot doing here?"
He considered the present situation further.
"And where the hell's my stuff?"
11-14-2010, 05:28 AM
Ann stared at the scene that had unfolded right behind her. She stood still, blinking every once in a while. The weirdest part for Ann was the way Claire was acting. It was like she had become a licker herself. Ann had seen things like mind control and possession, but Claire was different, she was connected emotionally as well as physically and mentally. Before Ann had time to wonder about things more, Zoey began to try and bring Claire back.
Still catching her breath, Ann decided to watch Zoey try and bring Claire back. She leaned against the wall and slowly slid down into a sitting position. The tension in the air rose as Claire struggled to regain control of herself. For a bit, Ann doubted that Claire would ever return to normal. The thought of having to kill a team member crossed her mind, but before she could process the thought further, Claire screamed an ear aching howl. Fortunately, that meant she was back to her normal emotionless state of mind. The lights for the room, and the hallway that the operatives, had run down flickered back to life.
“Who are you?” Claire asked the man that had been holding her still.
That’s a bloody good question, but he sounds like he’s from across the pond. I like him already, Ann thought.
Ann couldn’t catch the man’s name or anything else that was being said, because her attention quickly shifted to Rosie exploring the relit hallway. Ann got to her feet and went to chase after her. Rosie rounded a corner just before Ann could catch. Then the hall around the corner suddenly went darker than night. Ann stopped just inches before the darkness. She ran her finger in the thick blackness, it felt cold, but most importantly Ann could feel the dark energy emanating from it.
“Oi, Rosie get back here!” Ann yelled desperately into the black.
There was no reply, just unsettling silence.
Ann sighed and prepared herself to enter the darkness, but she froze in her tracks when she heard the first scream. Sounds of bones breaking and tearing flesh and muscle followed quickly after. An almost unhuman scream assaulted Ann’s ears. She tried to call Rosie’s name, but she couldn’t find her voice.
A stray blast of crimson liquid splashed across Ann’s eyes. When she opened her eyes again, the hallway was light again. That floor had a pool of blood and body parts littered about. The walls were hashed with bits of bone, flesh, and claw marks, and the ceiling was dripping the flash and other bodily fluids that had made it up there.
Ann stood stunned, the spray of blood still across her eye line. It would nip at her eyes causing her blinking every few seconds. The shock only settled more as time passed; the color from Ann’s face dwindled.
11-18-2010, 10:20 AM
Ethan had come crashing through the ceiling a few moments ago and hit the ground with a resounding thud. He couldn't move the landing had knocked what little air he had from his body and left him writhing in pain. As he struggled for breath Ethan noticed the copious amounts of blood all over him. He quickly figured that none of it was his own and suddenly shouted "I want my GUN!!"
Dusting himself off Ethan rose to his feet and made his way into the room where he left his equipment. The scene behind him went largely unnoticed as he quickly packed up got ready to leave From the noise and the mess he could tell that he missed quite a lot of the fight but that didn't matter to him at least he was at his peak when they about to finish whatever was started
12-05-2010, 05:54 PM
Claire’s heart sank in her chest and the bile rose in her throat upon seeing the remains of Rosie strewn about the hallway. She put a hand on Ann’s shoulder and squeezed a little, finding it even more difficult to retain her focus. As she exhaled deeply, a look of surprise on her face as a second person came into the room; this one coming in through the ceiling. Despite the crashing that came with it, there was no hole in the ceiling and Claire felt like her grip on sanity was loosening. She watched as the new person went into the room and came back out with a rifle and then she approached him.
Before she could get a word out, the floor seemed to distort and then started to bubble with blood. It was as though the floor was vomiting, and another body came along with it. Claire quickly crouched down and checked the new person. Once she was satisfied he was alright, she helped him to his feet.
“I don’t know who you are,” Claire spoke in her clinical tone. “But you seem to be alright.” Claire didn’t wait for a reply and moved into the other room to see if her swords were there. It would be nice to have her weapons back, but her first thought was of her missing med kit. She hoped she would find it. After about a minute of looking through the mess and debris, she managed to find one of her pistols and a crowbar. Being a mediocre shot at best, the pistol would be of little use to her, but she could use the crowbar as an effective weapon. Still it would have been far better in her mind if she found her med kit as Claire had no doubt that injuries would occur, and probably quite frequently.
She left the room, expecting to see Andrew talking to the new arrivals; however, Andrew as nowhere to be seen. She felt as though she wanted to scream. Given what had just happened to Anthony, it was possible Andrew had met the same fate. The wall in her mind was starting to crack and splinter as Claire wanted to burst into tears at the mere thought of losing her brother again, so soon after finding him. Still, she had a job to do and was in command now.
“Well you’re all obviously operatives,” Claire eyed the three of them curiously. “When were you sent in?” As far as Claire knew, her team were the first to be sent in. There was nothing in the mission file about a previous team and Claire was starting to wonder if the new people were even real. Perhaps they were just a trick being played on them by whatever lay at the heart of the facility.
Before anyone could answer Claire, the sound of a small child giggling could be heard clearly in the room. Claire glanced nervously around and made a strange yelping noise as she and everyone in the room were lifted off their feet and slammed into the walls by an unseen force. The impact winded Claire and she winced in pain as her body crumpled to the floor. She looked around to see if everyone was okay and that’s when she say the boy.
He was standing in the middle of the room. He had dark hair, which was cut short, and a sinister grin on his face. He looked over each of the operatives, his eyes finally settling on Imani. Slowly he raised his arm and pointed at her and then….he was gone.
It was then that the lights in the hallway across form the one in which Rosie had died started to flicker. Claire pushed herself to her feet, her joints still aching from the impact.
“Everyone move!” Claire shouted the order and started heading towards the other exit in the room. Away from the flickering lights and away form what remained of Rosie.
12-06-2010, 06:31 PM
Bing. Schplop. They had pressed the button of the elevator to descend to the lower levels of the facility. The elevator falling down and making a slight bing as the doors began to open. The next thing was the sensation of spiraling world and being shot out of a wall. As he landed on the floor a woman walked over to see if he was all right. Helping him up he fixed his hair and felt a bit stark embarrassed.
He felt his face go flush and he turned away being quite shy in situations like this. He didn't know they were going to get back up. Nor were they ever contacted that back up was on their way. But then again neither were they told they were going to be shot out of a wall either.
Only now had he begin to realize the many details in the quite awkward situation. Not only was his equipment missing, but the walls were covered in blood. His already red hair clumped in a fine comb of dried blood.
"Oh god...wall chunks...all over," he said more to himself then anyone else.
He took a moment and thought about it. He was observing.
"Um...better...get my stuff..." he mumbled oddly and quietly to himself.
He made his way to the room the woman had come out, coming back no less with just his stun gun. Where had everything else? The last thing he knew was they were pressing buttons in the elevator.
“Well you’re all obviously operatives,” the woman eyed the three of them curiously. “When were you sent in?”
He had only now realized that no one really had addressed this question. He gave the woman a good look.
"I..believe...just an hour or so ago," he said rather quietly.
But even before the woman could respond. A terrible situation became a horrible situation. As the group and this young woman faced head to head with what appeared to be their enemy. What a great way to find yourself, walls spitting you out, elevators teleporting you into walls, and you're equipment gone. Gone just like that. Ester groaned, terrible terrible day.
12-12-2010, 04:38 AM
Ethan grabbed the closest thing to him which was the Casull Autoloader and bolted for the hallway with the smeared remains of what once was human and dove knees first. The blood and guts were discomforting as Ethan used the persons remains as a makeshift Slip'N'Slide and slid down the hallway with ease. He kept the gun aimed down the hallway as he slid using his other hand to lightly probe the remains for bones. He wanted another weapon and something akin to a knife was preferable. As he probed around he grabbed a passing rib and shot the tip of the bone with his gun. The Bone's tip shattered and Ethan ended up with a jagged bone perfect for stabbing someone with. He hit the wall hard at the other end of the hallway then rolled to his left lifting himself up and began running. he needed to get outside a place more open for him to face his enemy. Unfortunately Ethan didn't have special abilities and most of his equipment was missing........and he had no clue where the hell he was.
12-12-2010, 09:18 AM
"When were you sent in?"
Donnan looked to the ground, wracking his memory for the exact date. As he opened his mouth to utter it he was stopped short by the distressing giggle of a child. "Jesus..." he cursed, feeling an eery lightness about his frame. Suddenly, like the others in the room, he was thrown against the walls by an unseen force and fell forwards, smacking his head against the ground.
Dazed, he could only watch as the women drew herself up and began to move, ordering everyone to follow. He stood slowly, using the wall for support, and began to unsteadily follow the rest of the team. He began muttering under his breath.
"It... Wednesday... it was a... Wednesday" he cleared his head with several slow breaths "That bastard who bombed the World Trade Centre just went down for life"
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