Realistic or Modern Cryptid Containment Corporation - Mission Origin

[Squad141]

[Beginning Archives...]

January 4th, 2019
9:18 AM
CCC Facility A 'Afterthought'

The conference room was painted with many shades of the same, sterile white that striped the rest of the medium-sized facilities halls. There were two entrances, each from the back parallel from each other, with the floor ramping downwards from each doorway to the area a few feet below. A large white screen spread across the front wall, covering almost the entirety of the surface, leaving a very small margin of the almost-bare drywall supporting the large rectangle. In the observing area that sit a few feet below the large screen sat a large gray concrete circle indicating where viewers should be sat. In this large circle were an assortment of standard office chairs facing the screen, as well as the un-imposing birch pedestal in front of it, imitating that of a college classroom, but on a much smaller scale.

[Send Memo?]
[Sending...]

All Personnel involved with the Mobile Mission Force alpha-test taskforce, please report to Conference Room 7-A. At this occurrence, please find a seat and wait for instructions on the first experimental mission.

This has been an important Memo.
- Admin 7-G 'Rebecca Purple'

[Narrator Note: All players will give an introductory post where they enter the meeting room. After this, I will give another post including the start of the central storyline. From here, as long as there is no spam, there will not be a posting order. Please keep in respectful and descriptive, if at all possible.]

 

[Darth]

Charles "Beau" Landry
9:18 AM - CCC Facility A

It was the third day in a row. The third consecutive day since New Year's Eve that Landry, in all attempts to relieve himself, only sat on a toilet and nothing more. It is the usual occurrence that once one finds the toilet seat, he or she allows their inner bowels to do what bowels do best. However, it seemed Landry's bowels had a different objective. Quite the opposite of it's more natural usage, they wish to watch Landry suffer. They are obviously sadistic in nature, as Landry has spent the last hour sitting on a toilet and accomplished little more than a grimace on his face.

Landry flushes the toilet anyway as he vacates the stall. He proceeds to the sink and lifts the handle, letting the water run. As he splashes cold water over his face, he stares into the dark pupils gazing back. Landry doesn't see much, an aging man with an aging face. Landry is often glad to see nothing in a mirror, as opposed to the alternative. Landry is rather impartial to mirrors, as they have occasionally surprised him. The only reason one should be surprised by a mirror is if they see something they did not expect to see...

But Landry, to his relief, saw nothing surprising at all...

His pocket then buzzed suddenly. A message on his phone. Landry wipes his hand on his trousers before retrieving the device. Landry had received a notification, one that he has been eagerly expecting. It reads: "All Personnel involved with the Mobile Mission Force alpha-test taskforce, please report to Conference Room 7-A. At this occurrence, please find a seat and wait for instructions on the first experimental mission. "

The corridors always had an unsettling monotone theme. Every wall, corner, and doorway held the same sterile white color. One could easily lose themselves in this labyrinth of pale hallways. Every turn looked the same as the last. But, Landry knew his way, he'd been here too long to get lost. A few sharp turns and he was there; Conference Room 7-A. As he opened the door, he found himself to be the first to arrive. He quickly descends the ramp and sits in the front row, in the seat furthest to the left.

The room would have bee quiet save for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling, or the deep groan of the facility.

Landry sat patiently, clasping his hands and twiddling his thumbs...

 

[Bronco]

It was early for something like this, even more so considering the briefing's proximity to New Years. Anyone with a sliver of good sense would have known that this was the worst way to bring their staff back to work, which said a few things about the Admins. None of them good. Meh what the hell ,Martin thought as he entered, it's not like we've ever had control over this shit in the first place. Now standing above the amphitheater like room, the groggy operative began his descent to a seat. He peered around the room through heavy eyelids, managing to catch site of one of his team mates below and to the far left. He'd only had brief interactions with the dapper gentleman before now, gathering simply a name and previous branch. Deciding it was far to early to deal with an espionage spook, Martin plopped himself down in one of the higher rows.

Sinking back into the chair, the operative hunched his shoulders and receded into his carhartt jacket. It was only when he stuffed his hands into the garment's pockets that he felt the form of a can. First there was confusion, followed by realization, and finished with respite. He'd only just remembered the can of Bang that he'd half-mindedly snatched from the fridge before his walk over. Wasting no time, he removed the energy drink from his jacket and popped the top with an awakening hiss. Throwing his head back, he indulged in the beverage...only to find the taste remarkably more bitter than he'd anticipated. It was only after he'd removed the can from his lips that he saw what he'd actually packed this morning.

Budweiser.

Looking the red can over, he paused and pursed his lips. He then shot a look over his right and left shoulder, glanced at his watch to establish a time window, and proceeded to continue gulping from the can. It payed to anticipate meetings like this. He'd have roughly fifteen or so minutes.

 

[H3LLJUMPER_177]

Max lied on her bed in her cell. Watching a movie, she has been accommodated due to her situation. The soldier was sort of in a bit of a unkept state, her hair was quite longer than it used to be and was stuck wearing plain white clothes, mainly a white jumpsuit signifying she was low risk. But she was borderline low risk nearing medium risk, thankfully she was notified in advance, and was finally given a pair of scissors. She cut her hair a bit and got dressed, trying to look the best she can. As she was slipping on her shoes, a pair of heavily armed guards awaited outside of her room as the door opened, she got up and stepped outside, she was placed in a form of heavy cuffs. The guards seemed tense, "...Relax, you'll spark it." she said calmly. They didn't seem to acknowledge what she said but they did seem to relax just a bit. Three stood behind her, armed with various types of firearms. One had a shotgun, while the other two held UMP 45s. The two in front were wearing heavy armor, armed with LSAT LMGs.

She was quite dangerous it seemed, no trust, but that might change, she was led towards the conference room, through halls she hasn't seen since she arrived there. When she entered the conference room she noticed the people sitting around, the two heavily armed guards stepped in and led Max to a seat, the other guards waited outside. The two that stayed, remained at a safe distance near Max. They were taking no chances. She remained silent and let the people stare at her, she was still human, born and raised, just, came into contact with something that won't let her go. Surprisingly she's still able to keep her bones strong along with her own muscles. There's a hypothesis out there that prolong use of something like an exo suit/skeleton can weaken the bodies muscles/bones. But since the suit she wore is anomalous, it's different. The suit started to try and stand, 'Can you fucking contain yourself for five minutes?!' she screamed inside her own head as the suit stopped trying to move.

"Don't mind me I'm just here in hopes of finally getting some sort of freedom, kinda sucks being locked up for three years without any chance of seeing the outside world." she said a bit angry, before calming down using breathing methods.
Bronco Darth Squad141

 

[Ayama]

The Mask

'Agma' - 'Chiwanda' - 'Setan' - 'Mask'

Location: Meeting room
With: Charles, Martin, Max

Setan wished, not for the first time, that they had the power to become insubstantial. It was a gift they'd wanted for as long as they could remember. Just imagine- being able to spy on anyone, anywhere, floating invisible and unheard. Being able to phase through walls, have bullets pass through you like smoke... They shook their head to clear it of this daydreaming, focusing back on the present. They were fast, they were strong, they were burdened with glorious purpose- so what if they couldn't walk through walls?

It had been nearly a year since Setan had been transferred from The Masks to Cryptic Corporation as part of their evolving alliance. They knew the Corporation didn't entirely trust the Masks, though they did trust them more than most. Setan also knew that several Cryptid employees had had run-ins with The Masks in the past, and a few of them might hold grudges, which always made things awkward if they were put on the same team as them for a mission. Setan wondered if that would be the case for this new Task Force they'd been assigned to.

The memo had been sent out to all those selected to be part of the Mobile Mission Force, and Setan was making their way to the indicated location now. When they arrived at Afterthought and stepped into the conference room, they took a quick look around. They recognized Charles Landry, impeccable as always in a tailored suit. They'd only worked together on one previous occasion, but Setan admired the man's professionalism and calm demeanor.

The other two were unknowns. One was clearly a military man, recruited no doubt for their combat skills. The other was not only cuffed but under surveillance from two armed guards. This was surprising, as the Corporation wasn't generally in the habit of letting dangerous criminals assist with their missions.

Things must be worse than I realized, The Mask thought, taking a seat and waiting for the presentation to begin.

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[CommonMalpractice]

'All Personnel involved with the Mobile Mission Force alpha-test taskforce, please report to Conference Room 7-A. At this occurrence, please find a seat and wait for instructions on the first experimental mission.'

"Now that's what I call bullshit."

Nevaya's eyes narrowed into a glare as she stared at the memo. Three days after New Years' and the staff was already being drabbed back into the business. She supposed she should've expected this, and yet, annoyance still seeped through her pores. She abandoned the plush couch she was sitting on, noting the newly appearing ache in her joints, shutting her laptop and placing it into it's carrying case. She popped her shoulders a small bit and began her walk out of the employee lounge to what she considered her doom.

Really, her options in her regards were limited. Either work at this hellhole or go to jail. She'd be an absolute idiot to not pick the former. Her steps echoed across the linoleum floor, the only other noise surrounding her being a buzz of lights, which irritated her to no end. She dug her hands into her pockets, her fingers finally clasping around a long cylindrical object she loved oh-so-much.

A cigarette. Bingo.

She lit up with the lighter she held in her back pocket and relished the smoke spreading through her lungs. She let out a long, shaky exhale, took another drag then discarded the cigarette in the nearest trashcan, looking around to make sure no other person was in her vicinity. She didn't need anybody to see her smoking in the meeting room, or anywhere else.

Her hands curled around the cold, crisp metal of the doorknob, and she entered the room. She took note of the only other individuals in there: Landry, Max, and the person she referred to as the 'Mask'. She didn't know anyone personally: just some names from security briefings when she secured her job at CCC. She could've easily figured out more than their names using other means, but it wasn't worth the effort to her.

She wasn't in the room for idle chatter, as shown by her not even sparing a passing glance at the others in the room with her, and she took a seat in the far back of the room, palming her cigarette box through her jeans pocket and she leaned back, stretched, and yawned. She didn't exactly care if she was showing common social courtesy. When did she ever do such a thing in the first place?

 

[FabulousTrash]

Skylar Bennett - Espionage and Rivalry - 9:18 AM


Another all-nighter....

Skylar sat in front of her computer in the office she was stationed in, the lights of the computer screen illuminating her near-death tired face. Her eyelids were sinking slightly and she was hunched forward.

This wasnt the first time she did something like this, and it certainly wouldnt be the last. As rare as they occur, when the need for Skylar to stay up all night for work comes up, more or less she doesn't get a chance to rest. This time around, she was assigned to a time-sensitive operation that required constant surveillance. It didnt end until around 7am.

Skylar reached over, grabbing the cup of coffee she got from one of the hallway vending machines and took a sip. It was cold. But she didnt mind. Setting the cup back down, she clicked through her computer, checking on the other open cases and assignments to see if she was needed for anything else. However, at the corner of the screen, a notification popped up, alerting her that she had received a new message. Skylar opened it, quickly reading it through, then yawned and got up for her chair.

Time to see what this is all about.

Skylar, along with other members of the CCC, were recently assigned to a Mobile Mission Force taskforce, something around the lines of a test or experiment run. Whatever it was, they employed people from different branches of the corporation, not just the soldiers. For whatever reason they needed intelligence, it was left up to Skylar's imagination. She shut her computer off, grabbing her phone of the desk and pocketed it. She glanced at her coffee, picking the cup up and chugged whatever was left, throwing the cup away on her way out of the office.

It didnt take her long to get to the conference room. When she entered, there were already some people who already waiting. She immediatly recognized Charles Landry, since both of them worked in the same department. The other male, she had no idea who he was. Lastly was the female, and Skylar knew who she was, purely because of the file they had on her. The girl had an anomaly attached to her so naturally, she was kept under close watch and any information regarding her and the exoskeleton was gathered and analyzed. Almost like it was on cue, she heard the girl speak up to no one in particular. However, she didnt say anything.

Skylar nodded in no particular direction, acknowledging those who were already in the room. She took a seat, leaning back in her chair and glanced at her watch. Now, she was a part of the waiting party.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kasumi Kuno - Photography and Media - 9:18 AM

It was a buzz in the Media offices. Around this time, almost everyone was clocked in and working, making sure everything was set up for when the data requests came in. In the back of the office, Kuno was inside the vault where they kept all the physical copies of documents, everything ranging from research and field reports to historical documents and other related topics. She was tasked with sorting all the research reports that had came in yesterday. It was a tedious job, but she enjoyed it. She had always been an organized person so this was nothing new to her.

While she worked, her phone went off. Kuno glanced at the screen, reading what the notification had to say.

Its time already?

Kuno sighed, looking back at the stack of papers she still had to go through. Taking her phone, she exited the vault into the main office area, looking around for a moment. She saw her superior, who was talking to another coworker. Kuno walked over, waiting for her opportunity to talk.

"Sir, I just got a memo. They're calling everyone assigned to the Alpha-Test taskforce to a conference."

Her superior took a glance at Kuno's phone as she showed him the notification. He nodded, sending her off and assured that someone else would continue her work. Kuno nodded, leaving the office and went down the hall to the conference room.

It was a bit of a walk, but she made it. There were others already in the room, no one she immediately recognized. Kuno glanced around, taking an empty seat next to Skylar, but was quiet and stared down at the table, not looking to make conversation.

 

[Squad141]

The white lights circling the ceiling like watchful vultures buzzed loudly, the group of individuals having gathered at the specified time and place and waiting impatiently for the event to start.

"Sorry for keeping you all waiting. I have to say, Administration did a good job picking you all. The last experimental group I worked with were all late by half-an-hour."

A voice broke the monotonous groan from above with it's sharp intake before speaking. Turning around, the handful of employees could see a slender man wearing a white scientists jacket (optional scientific apparel) with a dark sweater beneath, common clothing for the over-air-conditioned facility on it's worse days. He had dark, short hair, and wore circular glasses that were almost too small for his face.
He was holding a clipboard, not looking up when he spoke, as he descended the small ramp of the conference room. As he took his position, he read a few more notes on his board, before taking out a clicker from his jacket pocket and clicking the lights off above.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

He clicked the small device, and the projector came to life, with a large message simply saying WELCOME in dark text on a white background.

"I presume all of you know what's going on, but as is my job description, I'm required to give you every bit of data before we can officially begin. You are all here because you were either drafted, volunteered, or forced to become part of our first experimental field agents. The CCC has been working for quite a few years now on things like the internet and legends and local rumors, but now our pay grade and research statistics have begun to fall due to our lack of any new discoveries. You are our way out, so defiantly get your hopes up. If this doesn't work out, we're all most likely out a job."

The next slide came up, showing pictures of each member of the group that sat in the room.

"Since most of you were taken from very different parts of the world and or facility, there is a high chance you don't know each other very closely. Good. You'll be quite a lot of this on your time in the field, and I won't have to deal with any dramatic bullshit. But since we're paying you now, here's a quick list of the people you are most likely going to die alongside of."

The man took out a small laser pointer from his other jacket pocket, and pointed at the image of the person as he summarized there roles.

"First up, Martin Gates, our semi-head of militia in this test. Trained as staff sergeant, force recon, the works. Prefers to be called Marty. Next... ah yes, the anomalous woman herself, Max Williamson, nicknamed 'Heavy'. Background in Marine training, knows her ways around weaponry, oh, and she has a sentient exo-skeleton wrapped around her nervous system. Touchy thing, I wouldn't mess with it if I were you. Then we have our 'special agents' or whatever James Bond crap you guys do, Skylar Bennet, previous member of MI6, Robert Stone Junior, one of the civilians that found out the original gang of the Masks, and Charles Landry, our special first 'subject' of I-001. Then we have our backup crew, Kasumi Kuno, veteran of our fake website and excellent photographer, Nevaya Bassets, our local hacker prodigy, and Agma, Chiwanda, Shaytan, etc. (Call them what you want) from our re-employment deal with the Masks. There, now that we're all introduced, it's time to get to the juicy bits."

The next slide showed what appeared to be a small town in the mid-afternoon, with a plentiful amount of sunshine illuminating the small mom-and-pop shops from above, civilians walking the sidewalks, jogging, waving, chatting. Everything that anybody who valued their lives in the CCC would kill for.

"This is a still of one of the many streets in Crewdson, Indiana, where your first (and possibly last) mission will be taking place. We've gotten arrangements worked out for a makeshift headquarters at one of the many Inns in town, though that could change if your position is compromised. Your mission hasn't exactly been cleared yet, but when it is, I'll be contacting you through your local manager, Dr. Aphram, who you'll be meeting once you get there. Any and all supplies will be on board your transportation to your site, which you should be on in about..."

He checks his watch.

"Fifteen minutes. You can find the parking bay which it'll be at on your devices. If you have any questions, than I'll answer them with any ability I have left."

- - - - Bronco H3LLJUMPER_177 FabulousTrash CkSmalling Ayama CommonMalpractice Darth - - - -​

 

[Bronco]

When Martin had turned in his seat, he found an astute academic type standing above the crowd. He'd seen the likes of his colleagues pacing to and fro throughout the facility, specifically around the colder laboratories. Up until now, he'd considered them more a species than human beings, always scurrying around behind secured Plexiglas doors like they were part of some exhibit. He also had most of them pegged for the concentrated silent type, if they didn't fit into that category it was because Martin thought they were straight up subjects.

So, one could imagine the small chuckle that escaped his lips after the man's humor kicked in. Dry and dark, just how the marines made it.

Settling in for the briefing, Martin quickly slipped his spent can under his chair as soon as the lights were cut. It was good to know that the admins weren't cutting corners with such an experimental force, what with the expertly bland presentation and speedy introduction of assets on hand. It still did help to have some idea of who he'd be dealing with however, even if only the obvious details were being presented. The first operative to stand out, well more so than she already did, was the kid in the exoskeleton. According to their speaker, "Max" had also done some time in the corps. After hearing this tidbit of information, Martin couldn't help but give a small "Rah" in her general direction.

The rest of the team seemed appropriate enough: analysts, spies, and those touched by the supernatural. It was also nice to finally understand what the dude in the mask was all about, to a degree. Aside from the fact the he was a subject, Martin really would've appreciated an explanation as to WHY he was designated as such. Wizard he theorized to himself. Aside from a handful of "field tests", Martin was still rather new to the whole supernatural element of this gig and didn't have a clear understanding of who the Masks were yet.

H3LLJUMPER_177 Ayama

 

[CkSmalling]

Robert Stone Jr.

​

6 Months ago...
'Wait wait I can explain..." He said as he tried to back away from Robert. "....it was a job i swear, nothing personal!!!"

Robert took out his trusted knife and slashed at his arm. " I fully understand it was business. All i need is a name and nothing else. You have 5 minutes"

The unknown man, now backed into a corner, literally and figuratively, started to weigh his options. He looked at the threat before him and he knew he was going to die. "Am i going to die?"

"Yes." Robert answered coldly. "Depending on the answer, it can either be a swift death or a very painful and long death. Your choice."

"Her name is Joan Sunders. She sent me your dossier and the best method to eliminate you." He reached into his pocket and took out a holocard. "Everything is there, including payment."

Robert takes the card and puts it in his pocket. "I already knew it was her. All i needed was a confirmation. Thanks." He took out his pistol, aimed at his head and pulled the trigger before he even had the chance to be surprised. "Now then Mrs. Sunders. Our dance will now start."



The Present.

Robert woke up to the jazz music on his alarm clock. He opened his eyes and looked to the left. The sunrise was very beautiful to witness. Getting the penthouse was an excellent choice. He woke up and headed to the shower. After he was done, he received an email on his laptop. He opened and read the contents. Looks like his dossier was accepted. His life was kinda stagnating after his last job so he was looking for a new adventure. He reread the email and noted the place and time. He wore his suit and headed out.

After a few hours, he reached the destination. The instructions were clear as to the room he was supposed to report in so he just went there straight. As soon as he got in, his face was on the projector.

"Awkward" he whispered to himself.

So he just took a seat and watched the rest of the presentation.