Realistic or Modern SMITED [Mission: 1.5 - The Return]

[Hanarei]

Location: SMITED HQ
Interacted: Fable Rumble Fish Fill Tarmagon

Felicia blinked seeming a little uncertain how to respond to the two. The first she was most familiar with the Satyr who seemed to... compliment her? Threaten her? No it was for certain much more towards the former rather then the later. Her expression seeming to show a certain amount of... elation? The hand expression she followed up with it only perplexing her a bit more. It suddenly came to her what it meant based on the texts she read, it being a symbol for the phone. She never really used her phone much more so being given it, it wasn't likely she had people calling her. It was more a sign to get in contact with someone though as far as she read rather then nessisarily meaning to get in contact over the phone. Perhaps the combination of responses meaning she wanted to get to be... friends? Typical people usually talked to each other over the phone if they were friends right?

The late horror movie character on the other hand seemed to be more threatening her? She was a bit confused to be fair by his reaction knowing even less about him to comment. It seemed a bit tame given how verbose he was with everyone else which puzzled her a bit. Was it his way of trying to ask nicely? If he was asking nicely it felt better to address him now. I mean perhaps the tone of voice was just him showing he was upset and hurt by what she had done? Perhaps it was best to explain herself to him to help ease him down a bit?

"My apologies, I did not mean to bother you. Rest assured I have no intention of using my powers to cause direct harm to you, such as tossing you around the room or crushing your legs as to prevent you from putting your legs back on the table. I was asked to remove them from the table. Would you kindly remove them from the table so I might not be forced to more drastic measures to place them back down?" She asked him her voice monotone. She was trying to be kind as if returning to asking him to do so as before though unintentionally wording it with her dry response in a way that could be taken less as an apology and assurences she meant to cause harm, and more as a potential threat of the horrible things she could do if he didn't listen. Her plain expression only helping to with the dead pan delivery as if she was some emotionless psychic killer who might murder anyone who might wrong her at prom.

She turned to look at Jasper as he seemed to come up in defense of her... in part likely unintentionally aiding in making it sound as if she could do horrifying things to him if she so desired. She put on a small smile being a bit more discrete then she had tried to be before showing emotions though only causing it to look like a smirk... an almost sinister one if someone were to think she was debating the idea of doing the things Jasper might of said. Her head turned looking towards Snortt a bit surprised to hear a newer person mention her... well very indirectly. Truth be told it could be someone else had the same powers as her though it seemed it was directed towards her.

"TK? Um.... sure." She spoke scratching her chin a bit curiously looking on assuming it to be talking about being a bit distracted truth be told. She rested her hands on the table. She didn't really have anything to add at all more just being curious of all the new people.

 

[simj26]

“That’s funny. ‘Fursona’.” Jean gave a snort of amusement. That was pretty funny, but not for the same reasons he probably thought it was. Was this man hearing himself? Probably not. Gears turned in his head, surely literally, but all they likely did was produce enough sound to drown out his own thoughts. She elected to let the comment slide. “You are amusing. As long as I and you remain as employees of this company, I will endeavour to tolerate your noise. You’re welcome.” She gave a half-hearted smile, which she hoped bordered on convincing enough to appear genuine, and continued to observe the rest of the proceedings of the room. Snortt launched his long tirade against the rest of the table, planning and plotting as he went along. This was one of the few reasons that Jean stuck with him. Even if he was more mouth than lizard, he also had the brains to back that up. He could talk the talk, and not just walk the walk- he paved the path that he walked with gold bricks.

Charles gave their vote of confidence to Snortt’s plan as soon as he had finished. Personally, Jean wasn’t the kind to put votes on anything or anyone. It was a wasted practice profitable only by the people who controlled the votes. She didn’t put much stock in the results. The other party would always find a way to screw it all up anyway. She glanced at the drunken goat and the seat-lover, then back at Charles. She refrained from voting at all, choosing not to play into Charles’ usual shenanigans. “So, are we going to sit around? Time waits for no man, and this man’s got a plan. We could move in ourselves, if that’s what you’d like, but I’d like to believe we need more fresh bodies to make any real progress. Unless we’re going to spend more time spinning up a better plan, we should stop playing patty-cake and start making tracks.”

 

[Fable]

Briefing - Hanarei Rumble Fish Tarmagon Morzone _Line 213 s e v e n The One Eyed Bandit simj26 Worthlessplebian pomme Fill Heterological

Oh a migraine was sure to develop at this rate for Talora. She pinched the bridge of her nose, a clear sign of her building annoyance at the disruptions during this briefing. Felicia thankfully followed the orders to at least get the feet off the conference table. It was a welcome, minor improvement for this shitshow.

All she could do was narrow her eyes at the Sobek as she the hand that had been raised drop down to her side. "I didn't specifically mean your crew, I meant for anyone on the team seeing as this is just a conflict of personalities waiting to happen."

Thank goodness one of the stable team members asked a legitimate question inquiring how they were going to enter the forest. She turned her attention fully to Scott as she answered. "You'll be taking one of the planes from the hangar here directly to the forest. Once above the forest you'll be parachuting, except for those who can already fly or levitate themselves of course. We're hoping the deeper we get you into the forest the close to your objective you'll be."

"If I'm hearing this right, we have no intel on the place. Drones down, and we have to depend on hazy visions from a Seer to feel our way around? There's magickal interference in there, three of us wouldn't make it. Can't make these omelettes without breaking some eggs."

Talora turned her gaze now to one of the criminal trio, the most sane one of the lot from first impressions. "There is some intel, but not enough for to provide you a direct path to the source you are seeking out. We have older satellite images from before the forest expansion to give us a better idea of where you may find what we are looking for. The problem is we don't know how this curse works. For all we know it could have you walking in circles by manipulating the environment. As far as what you would call 'hazy visions' it depends on how powerful the curse is compared to the ability of Agent Gypsy."

When Talora finally began the meeting, and spoke to her directly, the released a short and odd hybrid of a laugh and a belch, picking something out of the clove in her hoof as she spoke, “Oh I wouldn’t worry about my sobriety if I were you.” The Satyress sipped again for emphasis, “Can’t worry about what doesn’t exist.”

There was a audible sigh and a slow blink from Talora as Hermione belched loudly and joked about her alcoholic tendencies. She was just waiting for an excuse to cut the Satyress off from her bad habit; toss her into the drunk tank and have her go through the nasty process of having to sober up and deal wit whatever hell of a hangover would result.

"Try that again and we're gonna have problems. Don't ever try that psychic bullcrap on me again. What happened to asking nicely?"

She didn't even bother to direct her attention to the chainsaw hybrid, but that didn't mean she wouldn't respond. "If you don't want something like that to happen again, perhaps you should consider behaving a bit more respectably. That includes addressing me properly. As for your comments about the princess being dead and the witch being dead, there is always a chance that they aren't.
Death doesn't cause a curse to end. It all depends on the curse itself, the intention behind it, the affects it's meant to cause, triggers, and so forth. If we had the information to simply dispel the curse we wouldn't be having this briefing. The heir, the Syndicate is assigned to searching for the heir and the doppelganger. Your focus is on the forest and either stopping the curse yourselves if you can or at least getting information to us so SMITED can. And yes, you will be betting your lives on a folktale, you all once only existed as folktales yourselves until the truth was revealed."

Talora smirked and looked at him with a dangerous glean in her eyes, "If you have an issue with going on this mission, I can always have to sit at a nice desk filling out paperwork... or perhaps put you on landscaping detail."

"The thing is, we have no intel at all. The folklore might lead to something, but it's useless without more information. There are a ton of possibilities for what's going on here, and we can't assume anything. For all we know, the princess could be nonexistent. The story sounds like something parents tell their children to make them behave." In a falsetto voice, he said, "Don't be a spoiled brat or you'll be lost in a magic forest forever! But there's no way of knowing anything. I'd prefer to get more information on how we can destroy the curse before we go in, guns blazing."

"Without knowing what exactly the curse truly is there is no way for us to give you any accurate dispelling information about it. Curses are very... specific. There isn't some reference book we can use and find the exact curse because curses are personal. It's why we wanted to find the heir, find the familial grimoire and see if the curse was documented. Obviously with the heir missing we don't have that option."

"What I am hearing about the concerns about the risk of self makes me wonder if you realize there will always be a risk of danger being a SMITED agent. If you want safety, you can opt to sit at a desk or choose a different position, but you're agents and agents go out into the field."

"I actually think that comment was directed at me. And for the record Overseer Reed, I didn't actually kill any team members inside Pandora's Box, I merely chose which of them should die in order to advance the mission."

"it was meant for everyone. And thank you for your desire to do your best Agent Ariael, which I do hope you realize means no giving into your dislike of the Demonic race. The same for you Agent Elis. I do appreciate your understanding of the situation regarding the complication for the lack of details we have. As far as magical interference, we assume it's adaptive. We had been able to send in drones the last time, but other attempts met with failure. It's very likely the magic of the curse will alter to try and achieve its goal; whatever it is."

Before Talora could continue the lizard was once again being disruptive. If Talora had any magical ability she would have used to by now to get them both to shut up. Perhaps next briefing with troublemakers she could ask for a curse of silence to be cast on the room. Oh that would be bliss. She made a mental note about inquiring if such a thing was possible. She crossed her arms over her chest as the lizard rambled his inane plan.

"You done?" she asked, though didn't even care if he was or not. "Problem, the hotel is not the source of the curse. The hotel itself existed outside of the forest until it was swallowed up by it. If the hotel had been the source it would have spread out from there and not the nearby forest. And Agent Charles, this isn't a democracy." Agent Jean was a saint right now compared to her comrades and Talora was glad they opted to bring up they were wasting precious time.

"This briefing is over. You are to gather what tools you find necessary and meet Agent Gypsy at the hangar. If you have decided this mission if above your capabilities you best inform me now rather than when your jumping out of a plane. Dismissed"

 

[Fill]

• Reginald "Reggie" Sykes

• Meeting Room

  

  
  Mentioned: Every single one of you fine folks.

  This had just about gone as planned.
  
  Everyone was either underestimating him or hating his guts. Then again, he did not spare a single expense on the performance.
  
  The other human male in the room besides Walking Stick had echoed Reg's own points, adding his own twist. A cheap shot could have been fired from Reggie's lips, but the lady with wings drew the attention of chainsaw man. She was being too nice, too composed. Maybe that was how Nephilim were or maybe she was something else. Best to prod and find out.
  
  "Man, how do you do it? Keep up the nice girl act, Pidgeon? Must be exhausting. You gonna wear that dress into the battlefield too? Maybe you'll win the curse over with your daintiness."
  
  Jasper was the kind of guy Reggie knew very well. Some he worked with, others he worked under. A little too cold and calculating for his liking.
  
  Choosing who should die in order to advance a mission. That was not Reginald's style, to sacrifice people for his own gain. But that was not to say he did not understand it or haven't done it himself before in the past. Just regrettable. However, Reg's thoughts on the past dissipated when Jasper decided taking lines out of B-movies was how you garnered respect.
  
  Reg shrugged.
  
  "Hey, I wish she did. Would have given me an excuse to skip this meeting. And if that was asking nicely, well, someone needs to work on their manners. Oh, and I know it goes both ways, considering I have no respect for almost all of ya'. Which means I don't respect ya' either, Walking Stick. But I'm not asking for it. And I don't really give two damns what anyone thinks of me."
  
  Interesting?
  
  If Reginald could quirk an eyebrow, he would. What was the guy going to do? Curse him? Shoot a fireball? Throw him out the window?
  
  Was it too much to ask he did one of those things?
  
  No, his feet was lifted and thrown off the table once more. All this effort over something so small.
  
  Amazing. If he had magical powers or telekinesis, maybe he would play with people's limbs for fun instead of using the talents for something better.
  
  Worse of all, no one saw this for what it was. An act to coalesce the team rather than break it apart. Nobody bothered fighting each other when they were too busy with the loudest idiot in the room.
  
  Reginald said nothing. Voice silent as he undid his tie. This spell was simple to get around, and he could tell by Walking Stick's glowing hand how it worked. The table pushed away feet from being placed upon it. Alright. But what if there was something in between, would the spell register his feet being on the table? Not if it was something so simple and crude as Reginald suspected it to be.
  
  Setting the tie down, folded up a bit and setting his feet upon said tie, Reginald was back into his original sitting position.
  
  "What? My tie and the table are best friends. And my feet and the tie are best friends too. Wow. Guess it all works out for me, doesn't it? Unless you plan on cursing my tie too. But go on. Despite what ya' think, I'm not here for a measuring contest because, like I said, I don't give a damn what you people think of me. So, you gonna tell us what we want to know or you want to continue this so-called measuring contest?"
  
  And the one time Reginald was ready to listen, someone else chimed in, deciding to be on the side of Jasper. That was fine, considering that's what he wanted. But this was getting annoying.
  
  "Correction, the folklore isn't our only option. An open mind wouldn't hurt either. If we take into account that we shouldn't assume a single thing before getting some solid facts. But look at us. Reiterating my same old points. So we gonna get back at Walking Stick's thing or-."
  
  At that exact moment, Snortt decided to add his two cents, the equivalent of: "I know you're an idiot, screw off" before the lizard began to make the workings of a plan.
  
  Reginald was not a tactician in the sense of establish plans and roles for a group. He could do it, but his area of expertise when it came to tactics was on a more personal level, meaning he knew how to watch out for himself.
  
  Still, that did not mean he disliked the plan, but whether as to if he would follow it was another matter entirely.
  
  The furry chuckled at his joke. The boggart decided an election was needed. More chaos. Reginald should have known his presence would exacerbate this rowdy group, but it seems he was not the only one who could derail a conversation.
  
  But the the telekinetic decided to pipe in. She gave a cold, monotone response. Maybe she was emotionless killing machine, maybe she did not have her coffee, or maybe she hated his guts like the rest of the group. He did not care.
  
  "Listen, shortstack, I don't care about you using your powers on me at all. I don't care if I'm dying. Keep that shit away from me. Period. This ain't no puppeteering show or what-."
  
  This interrupting thing had to stop. Seriously. Nothing was going anywhere. Talora or Peppermint decided now was the time to shut down the whole meeting with a whole lot of nothing. Nothing that helped them, even shutting down the lizardman's brilliant plan. This was not a democracy? That was correct. They were a team. And a team needed leaders. Reg knew the best people for that, especially considering they were going on a nature walk.
  
  "Well, hot damn. We're going on a nature hike with little to no information. And here I thought we'd be busting some crooks or something. We all know the risk, but I think I can safely say that most of us have never fought a living forest. We're trying to gauge what to expect so we can be prepared, Peppermint."
  
  Extra emphasis on the Peppermint pet name. Especially considering she was asking for his respect and for him to behave. She had given them nothing, so he would give her less than nothing. Reg got up from his seat, picking up his tie before tying it back around his neck, and began heading for the door, hands in pockets. He'd grown tired of acting like a nuisance. He had some gear to pack up and the gym to hit.
  
  "Oh, and this might not be a democracy, but we're a team. And a team needs a team captain if the coach wants shit done. So I think the boggart has given the best idea out of this whole damn meeting, a waste of time, I may add. I vote the guy who can do a decent falsetto because he's the only one of you idiots who hasn't tried to piss the others off, has a grudge, or even addressed my assholeness. And second-in-command should be telekinetic girl because she seems to have cool head. A bit too obedient, but, eh, the leadership will be good for her. And the lizard guy can be the strategist because, unlike Walking Stick, he actually has some friends from what I can tell. And the boggart can be our, uh, secretary or treasurer or PR person or negotiator or whatever. Who can't love that down-to-earth, bubbly personality? And the satyr can be in charge of drinks for this little hike."
  
  Reginald paused before gazing at the rest of this motley crew.
  
  "The rest of you, well, are extras to be honest. Don't give too much of a damn about you guys. Nothing too outstanding or exceptional about your lot. A lot of person problems or issues ya' need to sort out, but not my problem. Uh, 'Go team!' is what I would say, but I'm sure you guys don't share the same sentiment towards each other, much less me."
  
  Reginald opened the door and only his head remained in the room.
  
  "So, unless Walking Stick or anyone else has some pressing information about the forest they still want to share, I'll let you guys handle sorting stuff out between yourselves and each other. Because this meeting was a waste of fucking time and I got things to do."
  
  Unless the wizard with the magic stick or anyone else had any pertinent info on the matter of the forest, Reginald would whip his head out, slam the door, and begin a lonely trek down the hallway away from the meeting. During which, he would take the flask out of the pocket of his pants and take a single gulp.
  
  Mission accomplished. No one liked him, and he had said his two cents in regard to the vote. Whether anyone cared, well, that was not his problem.
  
  
  
  

 

[Rumble Fish]

Hermy was more interested in picking at her navel than listening to the annoying back-and-forths between the lizard, chainsaw and… she did not know, a bogart? Who knew? The only time she paid attention was Talora mentioning a hanger and the concept of jumping out of a plane. The fragrant Satyress tilted her head, scratching her messy head in thought. Well that escalated quickly. She had not even been in one of those Underworld-ish things never mind jumping out of one! The Satyress was oddly quiet as she considered her options. So, either she jumps out of a plane, possibly experience a parachute failure and ‘Local hobo creates a crop-circle out of blood and guts’ in tomorrows newsreel… or be thrown in the tank for however long it’d take to sober up. Well, that was her mind made up already. Slinging her wine skin back over her hip, she got up, stretching her arms up with a grunt.

“Sure, I’m in. Only if I can have Felicia strapped to my back. Or Jasper. Or Theo. Either way; I’m satisfied.” She flashes the man and woman a flirtatious smirk and wink before trotting out of the briefing room. The Satyress was unsteady in her gait but not bouncing-off-the-walls like she had been yesterday. Or was that the day before? The days seemed to cloud together into a single blur. Oh well, at least they were finally going to do something. Granted, Hermy had thought about faking laminitis to get out of this work and just continue loafing but the goat-woman was not stupid. One check-up later and they would know she was bluffing. And probably throw her in the drunk tank. Nope. Not happening. Better to be a smear on the road or a tree ornament than go through that. Full sobriety was something Hermy just could not deal with. Not that any of them would pay that any heed. Regardless, watching the lizard or chainsaw jumping out a plane sounded hilarious and she was not missing that.

Going into her barrack, Hermy whistled through her teeth as she packed a few essentials. Her bow, a clutter of arrows and her panpipes. There may be no need for them, some people weren’t affected by them but it was worth a shot, surely. She took a jolt from her wine-skin as she looked around the room. She had only been here for a short time but already the floor was littered with cans, the bed was un-made and it did seem to look like a farm animal lived here. Hermy refilled the wineskin and packed another bottle in her bag. Breathing out, the Satyress left her room and started making her way to the hanger. Despite her easy-going gait, inside the Satyr was becoming anxious. This was completely out of her comfort zone. Oh, not jumping out a plane, with enough booze in her system that won't be a problem, it was everything else. She paused at the entrance of the hanger, gripping the strap of her wine-skin. Was this something she wanted to? Having to work with so many people? The last time she was in a group was that time she almost drowned. Hermione could already feel her breath become short as she remembered that. Remembering being completely aware that she was drowning but no matter how much will power she applied, she could not move or get anyone to help. What if something like that happened again? She had half a mind to turn around and go back to the barracks. But then she'd be stuck with all the rule-abiding fuddie-duddies who'd probably just throw her in the drunk tank for good measure. This at least had the potential to be fun at least. Forcing a smile on her face, the satyr practically skipped into the hanger.

"Come die with me, let's die, let's die away!
I just want exotic booze,
Before I fall with a splat today,
Come die with me, let's die, lets die away!"

Fill Tarmagon Fable Morzone _Line 213 The One Eyed Bandit Heterological Worthlessplebian s e v e n simj26 pomme

 

[_Line 213]

Snortt
Briefing Room
Interacting with: Everyone​

Snortt dryly slapped his gripping digits on the table, squinting at the head of their briefing. "Then why'd you even highlight it if it doesn't even matter! I even said we can use the same plan if we end up in some other situation--it's like nobody's listening to me, nobody's even listening to me!" He drummed his fingers against the table with renewed fury. So, there they were, no intel, no planning stage, barely enough time to collect their gear and head out. "The hell kinda fly-by-night operation is this," the lizard muttered to himself, his lidded eyes darting back and forth between the others in the room, "bunch'a jokers."

The chainsaw, at least, had acknowledged his mental superiority, which gained him the closest thing to 'credit' that Snortt's mind and demeanor allowed. His acknowledgement of this fact came in the form of almost none, letting out a light groan of annoyance directed at the others in the room as opposed to the chainsaw himself as a marker of something resembling appreciation. As far as the briefing was concerned, however, that appeared to be that. They knew nothing, had no guarantee of finding something, and, worst of all, everyone appeared to be in a bad mood. Snortt might have offered some further comment or plan or forceful suggestion, but the sound of heavy boots echoed toward the briefing room door in short order as a familiar dwarf pushed the fogged glass open, other guards waiting just behind.

"Alreight Colsasch, le's go."

The sobekan pushed himself out of his chair, grumbling to himself all the way over to the door. "This whole thing's gonna be a shitfest, worst day of my whole year, I swear to god." He stopped near the door as one of the guards stepped forward, turning to point to the two operatives in the room with which he was most familiar. "Charles, Jean, put together whatever kits you want. Don't worry about specialty tools," he said, pausing for a moment as he glanced around the room as if in suspicion, only to refocus on the pair again, "as you can see, we already have plenty of them in this very room." With that, one of the guards jerked backward on Snortt's shoulder, forcing him to take a step back before he was formally escourted from the room.

"I'll have the job bag--ow! Prisoner abuse! Prisoner abuse!" He called from behind the glass.

"Quit yer yellin'."

 

[Tarmagon]

Jasper watched silently as what had begun as chaos descended into total anarchy. Scraps seemed to want nothing more than to irritate everyone in the room with a display of belligerence , and the Overseer hadn't done anything to reign in the creature. Between the antics of the Fae creature, the lizard man, and the drunken satyr, Jasper was starting to develop a rather severe headache. The chainsaw thing seemed to take great delight in bypassing Jasper's quick enchantment of the table, putting his feet back up with a self-satisfied attitude. Almost idly, Jasper wondered... no, that was the remnants of Pandora's Box. Best not to go there.

Overseer Talora had given all the answers and information she intended to, ending the meeting rather abruptly after giving them basically nothing to go on save to trust in the abilities of a Seer that Jasper knew nothing about. Wonderful. At least the chainsaw and lizard, along with the satyr absented themselves almost as soon as the words were out of Talora's mouth, though the lizard's departure seemed less voluntary than required.

"Thank your for that in-depth and insightful briefing Overseer," Jasper said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable as he swiped his hand over the runes on the table, wiping them out of existence. "Not that it will matter to you, but while I will be undertaking this little job, I will also be filing a formal complaint concerning the information availability and, lets say 'team dynamics' of this misadventure in the making. I know from experience that the life of an agent is a dangerous one, but I have been exposed to more potentially fatal situations in the last year than I have in my entire preceding career. Serving as an agent is not the same as signing a suicide pact, and while I may have been willing to sacrifice myself for the team and the fate of the world in the Pandora's Box mission, the only person here I know and trust is Felicia, no offense meant to the rest of you agents, but I don't know you. You may remove me from the mission if you wish Overseer, but honesty compels me to inform you that should the more, disruptive elements of this 'team' endanger myself, other team members, or the mission in general, I will do my utmost to neutralize that danger. Take that as you will."

Fable , Hanarei , simj26 , pomme , s e v e n , Morzone , Worthlessplebian , The One Eyed Bandit , Heterological

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

"It is very concerning that we live in such and day and age, and are deprived of such simple freedoms, Boss-lady." Charles spoke flippantly, and it was clear that her attention was already beginning to drift. These people all talked in spirals, and it was annoying. Jibber-jabbering like this was supposed to be HER job, not that of everybody else.

Charles stirred in her seat, and then hopped to her feet when she caught sight of Snortt being shooed away by the building's security. Her stomach turned at the sight. If there was anything that she hated, it was mall cops, and they seemed to be something like that. She had, for the most part, managed to allude their slimy little fingertips for most of her stay by simply playing nice but they seemed particularly frisky today and she wasn't about to risk them slapping her in those disgusting 'handcuffs' that police-types always like to wave around.

"Well! If I am to be the secretary, then I will be off to SEC-ure some things. Heh heh." As suddenly as she'd snuck her way into the room, Charles had set about scrambling out of it. Before the guards that'd been assigned to her had realized it, she was already by the door and waving a merry goodbye to her new compatriots. "I will see you all soon! I look forward to our great escapades!"