Futuristic H A D E A N - Project: Theia

[druidquest]

Ephie whistled an impressed note as Radovan led their fellowship into the war room. “Looks like shit,” she remarked cheerfully, kicking a chair around and dropping into it.

She spun idly in the chair while Radovan finished his little introductory spiel. When he finally opened the floor for them all to introduce themselves, it was the Skinwalker who spoke first, keeping it short and predictably cryptic in a manner demonstrative of an inflated sense of his own charisma.

He was followed - or interrupted, perhaps - by the Doctor and his comically overstaffed security detail. Not really that surprising, considering the man had barely shut his mouth longer than a moment since arriving. Evidently he and the Skinwalker had something in common. The stand-up routine with the transfer officer was a little funny, Ephie supposed.

“G’morning,” she greeted when the second personality finally asserted itself. She went back to spinning the chair around while the Doctor introduced himself. She did scoff at the word “divine” though.

“I’m not,” Ephie cut in when the Doctor yielded the floor back to the Skinwalker. “Ghost stories are boring.”

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Arata Kin

He raised a hand impatiently, signing for the nervous Englishman to quiet his questions. Between the endless gun barrels that surrounded them since the Doctor's arrival, the ongoing deceptions by their superiors, and the rising tension coming from the Pelted One, Kin lost his interest in small talk. Besides, he'd be doing him no favors making him think this was a good place to make friends. Instead, he looked to Agent Gladden just as the man let the burning files flutter to the tarmac in what seemed like a symbolic action of questionable significance. Naturally, their superiors would be their superiors. Kin would've been far more surprised if they weren't compartmentalized.

Secondly, it was hardly hammering home the point. It became increasingly obvious as they descended into the island's concrete belly that neither the laws of man or instructions of Radovan bound the Pelted One's actions, and Kin sent him a passing glance over his shoulder as he broke off from the group. If not for his uncompromising work ethics he'd be tempted to do the same, if only to see how meticulous SINS had been. If anyone would have an idea of what he'd been using, or even find it, he figured it would have to be them. Considering all technology, infrastructure, and personnel on-site, they definitely didn't lack funding. Not to mention their ability to coerce supers into joining their ranks. Kin sighed, blowing air through his nose. What a career choice. Maybe he should've just let everyone die.

He clung to the front of the group and were one of the first to lay his eyes on the massive war room. Involuntarily letting out a low whistle, he lagged behind the group, taking mental notes of the conflict map at the front and vainly trying to trace the source of the natural lighting. When they approached the center table, he lingered at the flashing imagery on the smaller screen. They displayed a wealth of information, and much to his annoyance, their personal profiles. It almost seemed like a slight considering the nature of his employment, but he didn't dwell on it long before the screen changed into something that made his eyes widen. An expanding list of special interest organization, one of which being The Union. He sent a quick glance up at Gladden before returning to the screen, only to see that the frame had been replaced by some other, less interesting name.

Perhaps there'd be some virtue and reward to all of this after all. A sly smile momentarily grazed his features, before the nearby rustling of a gun owing to the doctor woke him back up.

With newfound vigor he sauntered over to the nearby refreshments and procured a paper cup of tea, before sliding into a comfortable position in one of the chairs and resuming his blank expression. He leaned his chin against his palm and idly let his eyes wander from the newly returned Pelted One, the Doctor(who actually introduced himself as a doctor), and Trench Coat Cigarette Lady as they each piped up in turn. He put the cup to his mouth and leaned back, prompting his chair to creak from the stress of his weight. He relaxed his counter force on purpose. Things were wandering into the territory of passing interest.

His affect remained flat as he cut into the ongoing conversation. "Then enlighten us with something that isn't." Pause. "I'll go next." Trench Coat Cigarette Lady didn't seem to like expressing herself at length, so Kin took the opportunity to sit up straight and continue. "Agent Blackwater. Used to work in logistics and loss prevention. Most of my enemies should be unaware of me, or dead, or both. I manifest and control a black ichor, the limits of which remains largely untested. Oh, and most of the Japanese law enforcement super disappearances between 1986 to 1989 can be traced back to me in one way or another, up to and including the Sunrise Quartet magical girls, famous from the show of the same name." Without looking he held up his cup and pointed over towards Outrageous. "But I agree with hostis humani generis. I haven't dealt in mysticism before." With a customer service curve at his lips, Kin looked to the Pelted One. "What of the river people?"

 

[PiePillager]

If Shinobiman was wholly unimpressed with the state of Lord Radovan's palace, and he was, then he had hidden it well. For the most part. A thoroughly unimpressive palace was this! And the serving staff left much to be desired! As did the food! Mere pastries! That's all!? However, Lord Radovan had assured them all that such a meal was not the standard for his abode and Shinobiman would hope so! He assumed it was because the situation they had all been called for was one of the utmost urgency!

The pastries with a cup of hot water would do for now. Shinobiman took a seat and began to idly chomp on one of the donuts left out for them. As the group began to gather around, Lord Radovan and his vassals were about to introduce something exciting to the mix! Information regarding the foes they must topple! The glorious battles that would await them!

Gladden leaned back against the table as he looked at his new subordinates. "Actually, if you've been with a hero team before, this might feel like that. We've even got a Rogues Gallery! Little place to learn about your foes, put up some trophies, all that jazz. And with that said..."

He took a sip of coffee, and bit into a chocolate donut, before a smirk formed on his lips. "Let's play show and tell. Tell the class about yourselves, what you do, what you've done... Maybe even about your own personal Rogues Gallery, your nemesis and enemies. Sounds like fun? Rhetorical question, and if you don't volunteer yourself, I'll choose volunteers."

"TROPHIES?! HOHO! I like the sound of those indeed, Lord Radovan!" Shinobiman stood up from his seat, beginning to clap loud enough to cause echoes within the room.

John looked around the room at the assembled agents, they were all so young. Though, he supposed, they would have to be. He raised his hand, "If no one wants to go first, I s'pose I could tell ya'll about the River People." He flashed an impeccably white smile, "Fair warning though, it's a tough act to follow."

"Unfortunately a demonstration will be impossible, as at this time my hands, fingers, and arms are chemically immobilized within these restraints. I am interested in what our 'river-person' has to say though."

“G’morning,” she greeted when the second personality finally asserted itself. She went back to spinning the chair around while the Doctor introduced himself. She did scoff at the word “divine” though.

“I’m not,” Ephie cut in when the Doctor yielded the floor back to the Skinwalker. “Ghost stories are boring.”

"HAHA!" Shinobiman folded his arms as he threw his head back and chuckled bombastically. "I respect your incredulity, ma'am, it will serve you well in the battles to come when it is certain many an enemy will attempt to shroud the truth from our eyes! But, I suggest you pay heed! The good doctor is right to be curious! For demons are indeed real and I have felled many a one with my holy blade, blessed by the gods themselves!"

"For I...-" the ninja began his exclamation, hopping onto the table on one foot, swinging his head in a circle. "-am SHINOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBIMAN! Esteemed master ninja! Disciplined yet most unruly! Envoy of the THREE PRECIOUS CHILDREN!"

"AND YOU..." Shinobiman nodded toward the vassal with the beastial disposition. "Vassal of Lord Radovan! Continue your tale! Allow me to echo the Good Doctor and Sir Blackwater in stating that I am most interested to hear your tale!"

 

[obscured_light]

There was a lot of chit chat, lot of back and forth, and Rosarita was only really half paying attention to it all. The Rude one, the first person she had directly spoken to, had walked off without even a simple, "Excuse me" and admittedly, it irked Rosa just a tiiiiny bit. If they weren't starting off fresh, Rosa would be more upset at a champion like her getting snubbed so damn bad.

But they weren't staying strangers for long. People began their introductions with the first one, the one with the cool pelt, offering to tell them of River People. There was something in that gaze of his that made Rosarita's blood warmer and her heart beat ever so slightly faster. Doc spoke up next in what seemed like a personality shift she had seen in the much slower progression of baby faces to heels. An explanation of his abilities came with it, Rosarita pondering if she needed that in her own introduction. Pelt Wearer hadn't given one. Rude didn't give one either.

Agent Blackwater, Shinobiman, their personas were in contrast to one another. There were still a few people remaining but no one spoke up and silence followed the third vote in favor of hearing the River People story. Only one "no" had been voiced and considering it was the rude woman, Rosarita couldn't help speaking up in the silence.

"This better be one of the best dang stories I've ever heard then," Rosa said with a smirk, interlacing her hands behind her head as she sat back so she could not so subtly flex. "Or we're fighting."

 

[DarKnight36]

The bag over Daiyu's head was lifted as the helicopter landed.

"Welcome to your new home," her escort said, smirking as he shoved Daiyu out of the vehicle. "Come on, we're late, get moving."

The facility was large but Daiyu wasn't curious. It was just another building. Hardly any different from the cell they'd pulled her from. The hallway she followed the nameless agent down barely registered.

"You're late," a guard spoke.

"Took longer to get her released than I thought," came the reply, followed by a sigh. "What a pain."

The door in front of her opened. "Go meet the rest of the group, Chen. You'll be here a while."

Daiyu dutifully walked through the door and shuffled with her head down to an empty spot. Her eyes did not raise once.

 

[Sepokku]

John's pupils grew wide behind his glasses, almost entirely black orbs of curiosity peered at the good Doctor as he underwent a change; the nature of which seemed not dissimilar to Wayob, the sleeping. The tertiary rundown the man provided of his abilities only made him more curious. The creators of the superhuman world tended to be the most dangerous, the knowledge revealed to them was never meant to for this world. It explained the security detail at least, not that they could expect to upkeep such precautions in the field, not in any practical way at least. He would have to find a moment to plumb the man's psyche later.

“Ghost stories are boring.”

He turned his attention to the Whacksmith girl and gave her a thoughtful look while scratching the back of his head, "Dunno if I'd call them ghosts, per se." He took off his sunglasses and tucked one of the legs into his suit pocket. "Though, Agent Nocturne also has me at a bit of a loss for what qualifies as ghost." He dismissed the thought with a shrug before making his way to Gladden's side and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Agent Blackwater was ultimately the first to mention his Rogue's Gallery, as Peter had put it. A frown slowly crept across John's face as he listened, "Wait, you were the reason Sunrise Quartet never finished their Sunset Tour?" He took a drink of the still scalding hot coffee, it tasted better when it had time to sit for a bit. "They were scheduled to perform in San Diego. Those tickets were nonrefundable," He grumbled as his fellow Agent expressed an interest in the River People.

The nonbiological stepped onto the table before he could answer, the sound of metal resounding on metal as it did. John cocked his head slightly to the side as the self-proclaimed shinobi addressed him. He had heard of these "three children" the machine mentioned, it was a story he liked. Their mother had howled curses at their father, screaming her voice raw that she would eat one thousand of their children every day for him having wronged her, a true love story.

“...I am most interested to hear your tale!”

He stared blankly at the molded faceplate that leered back at him, its proclamation having interrupted his musings. After a moment even the Zuniga joined in asking about the aboriginals he had alluded to. All they needed now was a roaring fire and it would be the perfect situation for talking about things the tribe forbid discussing with outsiders; and they were mostly strangers. Even the time spent alongside Agent Gladden hadn’t lent itself towards much familiarity between the two.

Though, he supposed the point of bringing them together as an entirely separate task force like this was to create a sense of camaraderie; his eyes focused on the new recruit who joined them in just such a way that it reminded him of the movie, "The Breakfast Club". One could only hope the assembled agents would eventually get on as well as the people in the tale did.

Leaning back in his chair, John found his gaze looking upwards, more than likely as a result of his body language unconsciously copying the other therianthrope's, aggressive mimicry, his psychiatrist had called it once. "You know, the more that I think about it, the more I'm realizing I couldn't even truly qualify the River People as nemeses. My apologies everyone, please come back to me. "

 

[obscured_light]

"If you were itching for a fight, you should have just said so."

Rosa was fully aware she was being rather aggressive for this being their first meeting. Did she care? Not particularly. She was used to all eyes on her and was no stranger to the hatred of the masses. Her career had been built upon it for she had been turned into a heel rather early in her permanent re-introduction to the show. Or at least, what should have been permanent.

SINS had thrown a wrench into that plan and the script writers had to scramble to find a reason for why the biggest contender for the Zuniga throne was suddenly taking an extended leave. It had caused some distress in her fans and there were conspiracy theories and rumors running rampant in her absence. Rosarita's fists clenched at the thought.

But what set her lip curling back into a snarl even as she tried to mold it into a smirk was the sheer arrogance of the group. Lack of words, too many words, not enough. One had even walked in late. First appearances mattered but it clearly didn't mean much to the rest if they were being disrespectful. Not the whole group, admittedly, but enough to where Rosarita didn't feel inclined to keep her temper in check.

"Probably shouldn't be offering if you're not going to follow through," Rosarita said as she sat forward in her chair, elbows on the table, fingertips touching, a sharp glare in the Storyteller's direction. "And I definitely follow through. So call me Jabali, I wrestle, I did some stupid crap, and I have enemies X, Y, and Z. So can the rest of you hurry up so I can get a warm up in?"

Rosarita cracked her neck, still looking in the Pelted Storyteller's direction.

 

[MisoraUni]

Ianthe / Mellina / Jinhua
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​

Jinhua started off in the front of the group but opted to stay out of accidental touching distance.

Ianthe and Mellina didn’t start walking until they were at the very back of the group.

Mellina was still very unnerved by the whole battalion of SINS agents following the “Doc” around so she stuck very closely to Ianthe, practically clinging to her like a monkey. Ianthe kept trying to shuffle her off to no avail.

Jinhua was quite interested in what could be going on behind each lab door and armory they passed and glanced at each one. Maybe they had prepared her an area to work on improvements for her weapons… That’s the only thing she was itching to do at this moment. Everything else that’s been stated so far has seemed…. Pretty boring.

One particular armory had a flash of something gold displayed on a table, in the quick moment of passing she wasn’t quite sure but guessed that may have been one of her guns.

.
.
.

Jinhua had kept her spot in the front, she stared at the map for a while, wondering if she’d ever have a chance to go back to China for a future mission. She had some unfinished business there…

.
.

Upon entering the grandiose meeting room Ianthe took a gander at the big projection. Seeing her face flash up on the screen wasn’t too satisfactory.

Couldn’t they have used a better photo? That one looks ugly.


Ianthe glided up to the table with Mellina still very closely following her.

“Mel, can you release yourself from me while we’re in here?” She whispered, glancing at the shorter red haired girl next to her.

Mellina made a small pout before letting go of Ianthe’s right jacket sleeve.

“I guess…”

Mellina took the first seat that was available to her and sat down with a “thunk” while crossing her arms, she looked to one spot on the ceiling and glued her eyes to it so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone. Ianthe didn’t want to sit so she stood next to Mellina and watched the text go by on the screen. None of the names stood out to her in any way as she hadn’t heard of a single one of them before.

.
.

Jinhua noticed the refreshments didn’t just consist of only coffee like she initially thought there would be, because someone else opted for tea before he sat down. She went and got some tea in a paper cup, sniffing it on the way to an open seat near the other tea drinker. It definitely wasn’t as fresh as the tea she’s used to. Jinhua placed the cup down first then slid into the swivel chair.

She took a sip of the tea while the others bounced back and forth with their questions and stories. Jinhua let out a slight gag mid sip but continued to swallow, it definitely wasn’t a very appetizing tea but it was better than coffee.

.
.

As much as Jinhua was enticed to speak, she decided to wait for the others to stop their jibber jabber because she didn’t want to say anything whilst other people were speaking, it would be rude to do so.

.
.

Mellina didn’t like the show and tell idea. What is this? Grade school all over again?

Do I have to talk to these people?

 

[Simon Strut]

Nocturne

Remaining silent was probably the most sensible thing to do right now. Silent, and compliant, at least for now. Alexander stayed in the middle of the pack as they followed Radovan, and made sure to stay as far away from both the man dressed in fur, and the Northerner who came with his own security detail. He wasn't sure which one to be more wary of—the first man put his Shadows on edge, and the second was clearly a few pennies short of a pound.

As the lift descended, the reality of the entire situation suddenly hit him. SINS hadn't just hired him, or a small team. They'd hired almost a dozen Supers. So the jobs they had in mind weren't going to be easy... And there were more than enough people on the team to make Alexander feel quite expendable.

When they reached the bottom, Alexander couldn't help but marvel at the structure. He'd never seen anything quite like it before, not in billion-dollar mansions or ancient palaces. Although some aspects had him wondering about the sanity of the architects who'd designed the headquarters, the uniqueness of it all, and the quality of the equipment on display, still astounded him.

"If you uh, see anything you recognize in one of the armories we're passing... May or may not be some of your gear. I mean you're gonna be working here for a while, so might as well let you use YOUR stuff, am I right?"

A few of the new agents stopped when they passed some of the armouries. It was likely that they recognised their own 'gear', as Radovan had put it. Alexander kept his head on a swivel, perhaps this was where SINS was keeping the pieces of the pendant that they'd retrieved... And the weapon. Just as the thought crossed his mind, he recognised one man inside an armoury. The pinstriped suit, and the scar from one end of his lips down to his neck. Alexander felt his body tense. The SINS agent who blackmailed him in Paphos, except this time his sunglasses were above his forehead. The man wasn't alone either, he was ordering around a handful of researchers in lab coats. They huddled around tables strewn with old manuscripts, stone tablets and rusted idols. Alexander recognised every single item.

He held back a gasp. The room pretty much held his entire life's work. He'd hidden each item in safes all across the world and most of the properties weren't even in his name, with nothing to trace them back to him. Yet, SINS had managed to find every single one.

"Fuck..." he said under his breath.

Almost as if he'd heard him, the man in the pinstriped suit looked up from a clipboard, noticing Alexander. He winked, then went back to work. Little bastard. Alexander'd wring his neck the next time he saw him, but for now he just shook his head and continued with the group.

He was too lost in thought to be impressed by the splendour of the war room, beelining for the seat marked with his name and waving away the offer of coffee and snacks. With one leg crossed over the other, he sat and listened to Radovan and the rest of the group, while studying the screen before him and trying to remember everyone's names. The man in fur—John—mentioned 'River People', then the Northerner's—Xandyr's—accent changed to something a bit more posh, more South-Eastern. Great, two madmen in one body.

The trenchoated lady—Ephemera—kept her response short, while the man he'd exchanged a few words with earlier introduced himself as Agent Blackwater. Then there was the robot, Shinobiman. Alexander still couldn't get his mind wrapped around it. Had SINS created the robot? If so, why was he so... Happy?

A newcomer arrived and went straight for her seat too, making them a round dozen.

"If you were itching for a fight, you should have just said so."

Alexander swallowed. It was starting to get a little too heated for his liking. Maybe he could diffuse the situation somewhat if he interrupted.

He gave a small wave, then leant back in his seat. "My file has me listed as 'Nocturne'. Some French journalists gave me that name, and it does suit." He turned to Miss Zuniga. "If it's any consolation, I have a vague recollection of the time I researched the 'River People'. They were believers of Sipa, Komat, and a Coyote god, believed to be a cannibal. It's an interesting belief system, quite unlike anything you'll find in Abrahamic religions or even in the far East. Correct me if I'm wrong, of course," he said to John.

"As for a rogue's gallery, I can't say I have one to boast..." He stared at John. The pieces were beginning to click together. This was no ordinary man. The way he carried himself, his mannerisms, they had a slight animalistic nature about them. Of course, everyone present was far from normal, but John was... Old. There had to be a reason that Alexander's Shadows were so riled up by his presence. It was almost as if the Shadows knew him. Maybe one of his ancestors had met John. If so, if John knew anything about his family curse, there was no time like the present. "But as for show and tell..."

Alexander raised both arms to shoulder level. Two clouds of black smoke erupted out of each hand, then twisted around like miniature storms until they formed his Shadows, Syfa and Daven. He watched John for any kind of reaction, as the Shadows waited.

 

[Lord Saethos]

Morgan grimaced as he grabbed a napkin and disposed of his chewing gum in it, before tossing it in a nearby trashcan. He grabbed a packet of Earl Grey tea, and placed it in one of the colorful paper cups with hot water.

Watching names of his colleagues, as well as 'organizations of interest', scroll across the screen, he felt his gut lurch seeing Ultrox among those listed. The chattering between the others didn't fully register with him, even though he'd dealt with Ultrox plenty of times before, it felt like seeing their name on that board made them more real, more dangerous. At least some of the others in the room with him seemed a little unsettled by things they'd seen today, and it made him wonder if they also recognized the names on the board.

It made him wonder if perhaps the reason some of them were chosen was because of the names on that board.

Gladden cast a glance over to Ephie in regards to what she'd mentioned about the look of the facility. In his mind, he tried to recall which parts of the facility were still under construction? It gave him ideas on where he could relocate her room to.

His thought process was interrupted by the introduction of 'Dr. O' to the conversation, as well as stories of 'River People', which John seemed reluctant to talk about now. Jabali threw a few threats John's way, eager to get some sparring in perhaps. They did have a training facility... He wondered in the boxing ring would be enough room for those two to tear each other apart?

There was a glance in Gladden's direction, one that came from 'Agent Blackwater', before he began to introduce himself, and his powers. Seemed the agent had his curiosity piqued by The Union. In due time... All things in their right season.

Mellina and Ianthe seemed to stick to each other like like a pair of magnets that had been welded together, whispering away to each other like they were in school. The younger, Mellina, would need to grow up rather quickly. For some reason, in his mind, he had some lingering sense of premonition that he'd be faced with more big eyed, naive new SINS agents, who would learn too little too late what happened in the dark...

Finally, Alexander introduced himself, remarking on his own knowledge of River People, as well as giving a small demonstration of his powers. Seemed the 'Paranormally Powered' ones wanted to test the waters with each other, find out more about what kinds of hidden knowledge they might have.

Mentally noted.

Before Gladden could say anything further, a new comer joined them, quite late. He beamed as he ushered her to join them.

"ICHOR!!! Welcome welcome welcome! Go grab a drink and some donuts, it's good to have you here finally! We're all just doing some show and tell right now, telling each other ghost stories and about ourselves. It's between you and the other young ladies who joined us, who wants to go next?"

There was the sound of a throat being cleared as Morgan glanced at Gladden. "If I may Agent Gladden, are those names up on that board supposed to be our incentive?"

Gladden quirked an eyebrow and looked at the board for a moment. "Uh... Come again?"

"Did you bring us here with promises to get rid of our nemeses or something? I don't want to put a damper on the mood, but perhaps you'll recall that I was already engaged in that before SINS plucked me up." Morgan's face was blank as he sipped at his tea, eyes locked with Gladden's.

The agent sighed and shrugged. "Not everything is about you people, m'kay? Sometimes, I know this might be hard to believe, but sometimes people have goals that overlap! Crazy, I know! And before you go into telling me about how much you wanna watch Ultrox burn, let me make something clear to you, and everyone else here:

All things will happen at their appropriate time. Bueno?" He looked between Morgan, and then the others.

"Fine. But Red Death will not be treated as an enemy, correct?"

Peter's eyes narrowed as he got up, grabbed another donut, and placed it in Daiyu's hands.

"Maybe, maybe not. No promises. I can at least promise that not everyone on that list is an enemy. Guardians of Africa have my uncritical support, so if any of y'all try to go after them, I'll bury you in a volcano. As for Red Death.... Yeah, no promises."

Morgan shrugged. "Well, the people in Red Death are good people. So I trust the good people of SINS will make the right decision."

Gladden smirked and chuckled, scratching his chin as he looked back up at the board. "Oh, I seriously hope you don't think we're good people folks. Couldn't be further from the truth. Though, having said that... We might just be the least bad people. We might also be the people with the best chance of doing some meaningfully good things."

Something fell out of Gladden's pocket, and as he went to pick it up, a handle could be seen dangling from a sharp wire, with another handle in his hand. Gladden stuffed the garrotte back in a pocket on his tactical vest before shrugging. "Guess that depends on the decisions you all make. What the ultimate outcome ends up being."

Before he could continue, the smell of eggs, bacon, sausages, pancakes, and much more began to fill the room. SINS staff entered with more trolleys topped with trays of hot breakfast food. Another agent ran up to Gladden, a tall, elegantly designed display in hand of dozens of packets of cigarettes, a veritable bouquet of the things. He glanced briefly over at John before attempting to shoo away the agent, but stopped her briefly to grab two or three packs that he quickly pocketed into his vest.

"Hey everyone, food's finally here! Now Shinobiman can finally eat!"

As everyone grabbed, or did not grab, food, Gladden went over a final point.

"Anyways, Ichor, Mellina, Ianthe, Jinhua, and anyone else I missed, introduce yourselves quick and we can get to the most immediate matters at hand. As I'm sure you're realizing quickly, we've got a broad scope of what we're doing here. And unfortunately, fast as we can move, we can't move fast enough to go back in time and retrieve some of the Soviet nukes that have gone missing so far. Hopefully we can recover some of the others before they do go missing! We're hopeful here!"

 

[PiePillager]

There was the sound of a throat being cleared as Morgan glanced at Gladden. "If I may Agent Gladden, are those names up on that board supposed to be our incentive?"

Gladden quirked an eyebrow and looked at the board for a moment. "Uh... Come again?"

"Did you bring us here with promises to get rid of our nemeses or something? I don't want to put a damper on the mood, but perhaps you'll recall that I was already engaged in that before SINS plucked me up." Morgan's face was blank as he sipped at his tea, eyes locked with Gladden's.

The agent sighed and shrugged. "Not everything is about you people, m'kay? Sometimes, I know this might be hard to believe, but sometimes people have goals that overlap! Crazy, I know! And before you go into telling me about how much you wanna watch Ultrox burn, let me make something clear to you, and everyone else here:

All things will happen at their appropriate time. Bueno?" He looked between Morgan, and then the others.

"Fine. But Red Death will not be treated as an enemy, correct?"

Peter's eyes narrowed as he got up, grabbed another donut, and placed it in Daiyu's hands.

"Maybe, maybe not. No promises. I can at least promise that not everyone on that list is an enemy. Guardians of Africa have my uncritical support, so if any of y'all try to go after them, I'll bury you in a volcano. As for Red Death.... Yeah, no promises."

Morgan shrugged. "Well, the people in Red Death are good people. So I trust the good people of SINS will make the right decision."

Gladden smirked and chuckled, scratching his chin as he looked back up at the board. "Oh, I seriously hope you don't think we're good people folks. Couldn't be further from the truth. Though, having said that... We might just be the least bad people. We might also be the people with the best chance of doing some meaningfully good things."

Something fell out of Gladden's pocket, and as he went to pick it up, a handle could be seen dangling from a sharp wire, with another handle in his hand. Gladden stuffed the garrotte back in a pocket on his tactical vest before shrugging. "Guess that depends on the decisions you all make. What the ultimate outcome ends up being."

At Lord Radovan's words, Shinobiman fell silent and rested his chin in his hand for a moment before he gave a loud outburst of laughter. "Ah, a noble and a jester!" he joked, slapping his knee. "All here know that this is a gathering of heroes! Renown across the world!" he exclaimed, his hand motioning from side to side "We strike down evil at its core in order to allow justice to sweep across the land! Your vassals explained as much to me before we took flight! I assumed the same was relayed to the others..." he trailed off before he shrugged at Morgan. "But it seems some of us here still have doubts. Fear not! Lord Radovan surely has the wisdom to keep us all from straying the path!"

Before he could continue, the smell of eggs, bacon, sausages, pancakes, and much more began to fill the room. SINS staff entered with more trolleys topped with trays of hot breakfast food. Another agent ran up to Gladden, a tall, elegantly designed display in hand of dozens of packets of cigarettes, a veritable bouquet of the things. He glanced briefly over at John before attempting to shoo away the agent, but stopped her briefly to grab two or three packs that he quickly pocketed into his vest.

"Hey everyone, food's finally here! Now Shinobiman can finally eat!"

As everyone grabbed, or did not grab, food, Gladden went over a final point.

"Anyways, Ichor, Mellina, Ianthe, Jinhua, and anyone else I missed, introduce yourselves quick and we can get to the most immediate matters at hand. As I'm sure you're realizing quickly, we've got a broad scope of what we're doing here. And unfortunately, fast as we can move, we can't move fast enough to go back in time and retrieve some of the Soviet nukes that have gone missing so far. Hopefully we can recover some of the others before they do go missing! We're hopeful here!"

"You see?! We were welcomed with furnishings that did little to impress but now we feast like royalty! Truly this is to be a great glorious gathering of the world's mightiest warriors! Servants and Vassals, I thank thee as well as the chefs for providing this meal! Now, shall we dig in comrades?!" he asked of the others.

 

[druidquest]

At Lord Radovan's words, Shinobiman fell silent and rested his chin in his hand for a moment before he gave a loud outburst of laughter. "Ah, a noble and a jester!" he joked, slapping his knee. "All here know that this is a gathering of heroes! Renown across the world!" he exclaimed, his hand motioning from side to side "We strike down evil at its core in order to allow justice to sweep across the land! Your vassals explained as much to me before we took flight! I assumed the same was relayed to the others..." he trailed off before he shrugged at Morgan. "But it seems some of us here still have doubts. Fear not! Lord Radovan surely has the wisdom to keep us all from straying the path!"

"Here, here!" Ephie cheered. "Holy warriors to slay the wicked, every one of us!"

 

[Sepokku]

"If you were itching for a fight, you should have just said so."

Rosa was fully aware she was being rather aggressive for this being their first meeting. Did she care? Not particularly. She was used to all eyes on her and was no stranger to the hatred of the masses. Her career had been built upon it for she had been turned into a heel rather early in her permanent re-introduction to the show. Or at least, what should have been permanent.

SINS had thrown a wrench into that plan and the script writers had to scramble to find a reason for why the biggest contender for the Zuniga throne was suddenly taking an extended leave. It had caused some distress in her fans and there were conspiracy theories and rumors running rampant in her absence. Rosarita's fists clenched at the thought.

But what set her lip curling back into a snarl even as she tried to mold it into a smirk was the sheer arrogance of the group. Lack of words, too many words, not enough. One had even walked in late. First appearances mattered but it clearly didn't mean much to the rest if they were being disrespectful. Not the whole group, admittedly, but enough to where Rosarita didn't feel inclined to keep her temper in check.

"Probably shouldn't be offering if you're not going to follow through," Rosarita said as she sat forward in her chair, elbows on the table, fingertips touching, a sharp glare in the Storyteller's direction. "And I definitely follow through. So call me Jabali, I wrestle, I did some stupid crap, and I have enemies X, Y, and Z. So can the rest of you hurry up so I can get a warm up in?"

Rosarita cracked her neck, still looking in the Pelted Storyteller's direction.

He didn't respond at first, there was no need to; the other people in the room were sure to fill in the silence, humans had a nasty predisposition to speak during moments better left quiet. Instead, he watched with relaxed bemusement; a barely restrained prey drive taking acute note of the fact that Agent Kitsune, in addition to only having the power of heightened mewling, was hanging to Agent Void like a petulant child. There were so many of them currently assembled, surely no one would notice if one or two went missing once they were in the field.

"My file has me listed as 'Nocturne'. Some French journalists gave me that name, and it does suit." He turned to Miss Zuniga.

John followed Agent Nocturne's gaze, turning his attention back to the Rampaging Rose. Flashing her a wolfish grin, he interjected between Alex's statements in faux admonishment, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

"If it's any consolation, I have a vague recollection of the time I researched the 'River People'. They were believers of Sipa, Komat, and a Coyote god, believed to be a cannibal. It's an interesting belief system, quite unlike anything you'll find in Abrahamic religions or even in the far East. Correct me if I'm wrong, of course," he said to John.

"Nothing wrong with indulging in a little Donner Party from time to time." He responded, eyes still carefully watching the other therianthrope, "Though, one would be remiss to not ask what exactly a Coyote God would have to eat to be considered a cannibal."

"As for a rogue's gallery, I can't say I have one to boast..." He stared at John. The pieces were beginning to click together. This was no ordinary man. The way he carried himself, his mannerisms, they had a slight animalistic nature about them. Of course, everyone present was far from normal, but John was... Old. There had to be a reason that Alexander's Shadows were so riled up by his presence. It was almost as if the Shadows knew him. Maybe one of his ancestors had met John. If so, if John knew anything about his family curse, there was no time like the present. "But as for show and tell..."

Alexander raised both arms to shoulder level. Two clouds of black smoke erupted out of each hand, the twisted around like miniature storms until they formed his Shadows, Syfa and Daven. He watched John for any kind of reaction, as the Shadows waited.

As it turned out, it was a good thing John had decided to leave his macahuitl in the armory. If he hadn't, he wasn't entirely sure he would have been able to stop himself from giving it a few practice swings. Even without it, he had a hard time staying still in spite of things, the animal skin he'd brought with him betraying his excitement with three rapid twitches of its ear.

Morgan and Gladden (Morgan and Peter?) started talking, but John was no longer listening as his mind raced with plans. He hadn't paid too much attention to the route they had taken to get down here, but his vomeronasal organ was certain they were currently below sea level. If a proper fight broke out down here, what were the odds they destroyed one of the supports that was keeping this room from sinking into the Atlantic? Between Agent Radovan, the mewling child, the up-and-coming wrestler, and the not-quite-dead (but definitely-not-completely-alive) Alexander, no one could blame him if things got out of hand, 'And what better way to sate an appetite?'

As if in answer to the question, trolleys of breakfast food that would put a Continental to shame were wheeled in. Along with more of the rolled papers filled with improperly prepared tobacco. John's chair clattered to the floor as he stood and made his way to one of the carts in a few short strides. Picking through the food was a welcome distraction. Not all of the meat had been denatured by excessive cooking, and as such he managed to fill a plate before sitting back down.

"They're sending us to retrieve bombs?" He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth and frowned, "It's like that mission with the V-2s all over again."

 

[druidquest]

"Nothing wrong with a test run," Ephie remarked, stomping her foot next to the table display and leaning as far back in her chair as possible. "Better to have us chase toys around for a bit, see how we get on before handing us anything of real..." She shot Radovan a shit-eating grin. "...importance."

 

[Simon Strut]

Nocturne

Alexander waved over a SINS agent who presented him with a latte. She nervously glanced behind him, where his Shadows were twitching. With a pursed-lip smile, he recalled them back into his body. He'd gotten what he wanted out of John, he supposed; some kind of reaction at least... Whether or not that was good news, only time could tell.

He sipped at the coffee, perfect temperature, then crossed one leg over the other. He still wasn't anywhere near comfortable with the present company, but the situation seemed stable enough. For now. Regardless, showing any kind of weakness, even if it was just discomfort, might not be particularly prudent.

"Missing nukes, and here you are spoiling us with a feast instead of giving us a mission briefing? When will we be deployed?"

 

[MisoraUni]

Ianthe / Mellina / Jinhua
-------------------------------------------------------------​

Jinhua has a sip of her tea.

“My blood explodes.”


She places the paper cup back down.

“I don’t think it’s safe to show an example in this environment, so onto the next we go.”

Jinhua gestures to the others who still need introductions done.

.
.

Ianthe, still choosing to stand up, raises her right hand up to the side of her head.

"My Alias is Void, You can call me Ianthe though, whatever makes you comfortable I guess….”


Ianthe lifts her right arm up and looks at the inhibitor on it. It's a black metal with little red light up indicators meaning that it's locked and functional.

“Also can someone take this thing off of my arm? Can’t really do any showing if my abilities are inhibited.”


An agent brings out a key and detaches the device that was inhibiting Ianthe’s powers.

“Thanks.”

Ianthe pauses for a moment to stretch out her wrist. She shakes it around then walks over to the beverage table and grabs two empty cups.

“I can create and manipulate pocket dimensions, a side of that is creating portals that I can use to take things to and from the dimensions. I can have an entrance and an exit portal open at the same time so I can use it to travel pretty instantly through the pocket dimension plane to a different place.”


She places one cup next to Mellina's spot at the large table. Then she holds the other cup with the opening facing down and walks to the opposite end of the table.

“To visualize, it's like a bridge. The pocket dimension is the bridge and the portals are the start and end points. I can make the portals stack together in the pocket dimension so that the travel time is shortened."


Ianthe pinches the fingers of her right hand together then quickly opens them, two portals appear in the cups.

“Mel, can you drop something into the cup please?”


Mellina nods then looks around and finds a pen on the table and drops it into the cup.

The pen falls out of the cup that Ianthe is holding and she catches it with her left hand.

She holds up the pen and waves it around.

“Tada, very easy to make typical people think I’m a magician with this trick.”

“I can also make portals that I can hop through, but those are usually not as stable when unsupported. Which is why I used cups to be a frame for the portals. Unstable portals have a tendency to close spontaneously which can lead to severing parts of things.”

“Doorways and other types of frames greatly reduce that though.”


Ianthe walks back to Mellina and stands by her left side. Ianthe lifts her left hand and points to Mellina.

“This here is Mellina, she doesn’t like to talk to people. Uhh… she can amplify and also reduce her own sound waves and I think she can see them visibly too unless she is actively reducing them which makes her inaudible.”

Ianthe looks at Mellina, “Would you like to give them an example?”

.
.

An exasperated sigh is heard as Mellina looks down at her finger.

She taps her index finger nail on the table. A sound wave resonates through the table which causes everyone's plates and cups to jump slightly. Her hand then recoils back into her lap quickly afterwards.

 

[Lord Saethos]

As the group dug into the newly arrived food, some of the last few arrivals demonstrated (or elaborated that they couldn't do so in the current setting) their powers and abilities. Gladden found it a little amusing, especially when some of them seemed to perhaps get a little... Showboatey. But they likely figured that, since SINS already knew everything about them, what could it possibly hurt?

But the demonstration really wasn't just for Gladden.

It was for the agents themselves.

Checks and balances, you could say. With so many potentially competing and conflicting personalities, there was always the possibility of some kind of altercation. Would this demonstration make fights more likely? Less likely? It was difficult to say. And it was difficult to say even if either of those outcomes truly mattered to Agent Gladden.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm personally rather pleased with our little ensemble cast. We've got everything from exploding blood, to South American Demigods, and to uh... Shinobimen. Speaking of which, isn't he just great?" Gladden raised his coffee in the direction of Shinobiman, following his perhaps misplaced praise.


"Now, about the nukes, unless your friends, family, and loved ones all have the same superpower of being somehow immune to nuclear weaponry, I'm going to air on the assumption that actually, nuclear weapons are of some importance to all of you." Gladden noticeably turned to face Ephie after saying this, singling her out in a way that was intended to make the rest of the team squirm slightly in social discomfort.


The moment ended abruptly as he snapped his fingers, and turned in the direction of agents stationed at the elevated computer monitors they'd passed while coming in. Images on the screen behind them changed, showing slightly grainy looking images of soldiers in different locations, some which appeared to be savanna land, others plains and fields, and others mountainous.


"Now, for some reason, there's been an uncomfortable amount of nuclear arms dealings going on the last year or two. That is to say, this almost never happens, except when the Ruskies are putting nukes in Cuba. But the gentlemen in these images aren't exactly Khrushchev, and the men they're selling to aren't exactly Castro."


He pointed in the direction of the savanna lands. "These guys are ex-SADF, ex-Rhodesian SAS, and a couple other ex-Special Forces type groups. Now, some of them are just mercs, but others belong to some... Let's say, unpleasant armed factions in South Africa and the periphery. In other words, they like Apartheid and wanna keep it. You have my permission to shoot them on sight."


Shrugging, he took a sip of his coffee again. "Now, South Africa was supposed to have cancelled its nuke program. Evidently that didn't happen, but they're in the awkward position of a LOT of international scrutiny, and what appears to be the impending end of Apartheid. So... The nukes have gotta go somewhere, and if they can make a buck off of sending them elsewhere, why not, right?"


Next, he pointed to the images opposite of the South African pictures. "The others there on the steppes of Kazakhstan are a mix of Kazakh independence fighters, and Russian Ultranationalists. The Kazakhs aren't particularly fond of the USSR anymore, and would like to leave post-haste, something that might happen if Mr. Gorbachev is successful. The Russian Ultranationalists, on the other hand, would be greatly pleased to ensure Kazakhstan stays part of Russia forever. As you can imagine, this has led to some conflict between the two. In the meantime, it's becoming increasingly harder for Soviet forces to actually guard and protect these nukes from theft. Russia's a big country after all. And of course, some are likely being paid to look the other way, probably with plans to flee to Western Europe with their newfound wealth."

Gladden pointed to one final image, this one showing masked soldiers in uniforms and camo that were not exactly familiar or recognizable to anyone there, even those with some military knowledge. They had a base that appeared as an almost yellowy-tan color, and dark reddy-brown blotches on some uniforms, and tiger stripes on others. There was a similarity almost to Egyptian Thunderbolt camo, but it was inconsistent, and the gear didn't match typical Egyptians kits.

"And this is who all three of the groups I just mentioned are selling nukes to. The Afrikaners, Kazakhs and Russian Nationalists. In exchange, they all get some money, some weapons, and are able to continue their war efforts. Who are these nuke buyers? Unfortunately, not a clue as of yet. They've mostly been moving through the Black Market to avoid causing any ripples. It's possible this is a nation trying to get their hands on nukes, but neither SINS nor the CIA, or anyone else, have been able to dig anything up. Can't even be sure its a terrorist group, since we can't be sure of any political or religious affiliation."


As he finished up his debriefing, the images on the screen changed. Now, there were just two, one on the left side of the screen, one on the right, both were circular. The image on the right had a black background, with a red outline of what appeared to be a dragon on it. The image on the left had an orange background, with a black outline of a Spectral Bat on it. Beneath each image, a list of details appeared, giving information on geography, weather patterns, regional conflicts and events of importance, and more.


Morgan glanced over the details underneath each image, and it quickly became clear that the Dragon was going to be focused on Kazakhstan, while the Bat would be focused on South Africa, possibly Mozambique or Namibia as well. Seemed the concern for the Bat would potentially be figuring out if the nukes might be leaving in a port in either of the coastal African nations.


"Agent Gladden, I don't see any information here about what our individual roles are going to be in this operation. What's the significance of the Bat and Dragon?"


Gladden turned to Morgan with a beaming grin. "Nothing like a bit of symbolism and cool code names! Seeing as most of the color codes for task forces are already in use, we're switching things up a bit here in SINS. Task Force Draco will be the team preoccupied with handling the situation in Kazakhstan. I ask you to approach the situation DELICATELY. We're not overthrowing the USSR, alright? You can help out the Kazakhs if you like, but nothing big."

"As for Task Force Vampyrum, they'll be focused on South Africa and its periphery. Again, don't rock the boat there, please. If I want you overthrowing any governments, I will make it explicitly clear. Kill as many of the mercs as you like, but don't mess with the Guardians of Africa. In fact, try to work with them if you get a chance. They're good people, and would have a vested interest in keeping those nukes out of villainous hands."

"So... How are the teams being decided?"

Gladden clapped his hands together, before spreading them out wide as if to shower the group in his never-ending love. "Why, they'll be decided by all of you! I mean, the teams are theoretically temporary anyways, so depends on where you're more interested in traveling to."

Morgan looked between the two images, before stepping away from the table, and over towards the Dragon icon on the screen now above him.

 

[Sepokku]

John nodded in the direction of the image on the left, "Team Camazotz for me. Dragons and I tend not to get along," He chuckled quietly at his own joke. "Besides, I hear Mandela is a free man again, might be nice to exchange notes."

 

[druidquest]

Ephie's hand shot into the air. "Send me to Kazakhstan, comrade!"

 

[PiePillager]

As the group dug into the newly arrived food, some of the last few arrivals demonstrated (or elaborated that they couldn't do so in the current setting) their powers and abilities. Gladden found it a little amusing, especially when some of them seemed to perhaps get a little... Showboatey. But they likely figured that, since SINS already knew everything about them, what could it possibly hurt?

But the demonstration really wasn't just for Gladden.

It was for the agents themselves.

Checks and balances, you could say. With so many potentially competing and conflicting personalities, there was always the possibility of some kind of altercation. Would this demonstration make fights more likely? Less likely? It was difficult to say. And it was difficult to say even if either of those outcomes truly mattered to Agent Gladden.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm personally rather pleased with our little ensemble cast. We've got everything from exploding blood, to South American Demigods, and to uh... Shinobimen. Speaking of which, isn't he just great?" Gladden raised his coffee in the direction of Shinobiman, following his perhaps misplaced praise.

At this, Shinobiman raised his mug in turn. "Here, here, Lord Radovan! I thank thee!" And as for the choices now laid out before the team...."Hmm, this is quite the dilemma. Were it only...possible to simply embark on both of these great missions of great import! Well...I suppose I COULD but for such a long distance apart..." he muttered to himself. "You know, I like the sound of these Guardians of Africa. They sound as if they're proper vanguards of righteousness! I would be honored to do battle alongside them!"

 

[Simon Strut]

Nocturne
Alexander nodded.

 

[Lord Saethos]

• March 20th, 1991
• March 21st, 1991

• As the group mulled over the situation, and where they felt their skills might be better put to use, a gust of wind flooded the room, as if a powerful concussive force had gone off.
  
  Locks of hair fell back into place on Gladden's head, but now a figure stood next to him, hand rested on his shoulder.
  
  "The gimmick worked the first two times, but now you've overdone it. You're not gonna be able to scare me like this."
  
  The figure seemed to snicker slightly inside of a masked helmet. "I'm sure I can come up with something new." The woman's voice carried a certain softness with it, as well as what could be a French accent. As she finished giggling, she placed a sheet of paper in Gladden's hand.
  
  "Folks, Agent Ghoul." He indicated to the masked woman, who herself gave a little wave to the group. It was notable that not an inch of her could be seen beneath the black, tactical jumpsuit and gear she wore. Even around her neck area, black fabric covered where skin should be.
  
  Gladden turned the paper over in his hands for a moment, reading the relatively short note, before his lips formed into a slight 'O' shape.
  
  "Ah, interesting. Okay folks, change of plans. You're all going to Kazakhstan. Sorry to disappoint Shinobiman, but I promise the Guardians will be waiting. Morgan.... You hate biowarfare, right?"
  
  Morgan perked up an eyebrow. "Is it Ultrox?"
  
  Gladden shook his head. "No, anthrax actually. One of those ultra-nationalist groups in Russia seems to be preparing to launch an attack with it on Almaty. We're talking about... Probably a million or so dead? So a pretty bad situation, to say the least."
  
  He clasped his hands together to look at the group. "Alright folks, so one team is gonna go stop one of the biggest single-incident mass killings since WW2, and the other is gonna go stop the sale of nuclear weapons which will.... Also lead to some of the biggest mass killings since WW2."
  
  One of the cigarette packets he'd grabbed earlier was now being opened, as he popped one between his lips and lit it up. "No pressure or nothing! You've got this. You dust off in 15 minutes, so eat up and gear up."
  
• March 21st, 1991 - Location: Western Kyrgyzstan, Approaching Kolsai Lakes Region
  
  Morgan nervously fidgeted with the chrome Bren 10 he had on his lap, pulling it apart so he could do a 'cleaning inspection' of it, while the Blackhawk drew closer to Kazakhstan. It didn't need to be cleaned, but he needed to take his mind off the situation somehow. He might compare the way he currently felt to carrying some kind of extremely delicate, breakable little thing in his hands. Not the Bren 10, but the nukes, and the anthrax.
  
  It was as if he thought that simply tripping and stumbling would end millions of lives, as absurd as that was. He didn't like things that were outside of his control, he didn't like not having all the information about a situation. It made him feel powerless, and scrambling for some sense of security.
  
  He didn't dare to look at anyone else who was in the helicopter with him, for the time being at least. He loosened the neck of his olive drab fatigues, struggling with the phantom sensation that it was too tight, even though it barely touched his skin.
  
  There was a gentle press of someone's hand against his shoulder. "You keep jittering like this, and you might be able to move as fast as me." The soft teasing from Agent Ghoul broke some of the tension for Morgan, for a moment at least.
  
  "Does you... Helmet protect against anthrax? Or radiation?" He asked curiously, voice a little nervous still.
  
  "It doesn't have to, because there won't be any nukes going off, or any anthrax getting released." She patted him on the shoulder.
  
  "Besides, I can outrun it." She chuckled.
  
  Morgan did not.
  
  Both teams, those who would handle the nukes, and those who would handle the anthrax, were headed towards the Kolsai Lakes region of Kazakhstan. There were the lakes, of course, as well as plenty of mountains and forests there, making it slightly easier for them to slip in past Soviet forces.
  
  Once in Kazakhstan proper, the search could begin in earnest for the weapons they needed to eliminate. There were SINS contacts in the region, both in the Kazakh Resistance movement, and those who sought a more peaceful path forward for Russia (be they democratic supporters, or communists).
  
  Even in the Communist Party itself, there were many who had no desire for conflict or war, and would rather see a bloodless separation of states from the USSR, as humiliating as that may be.
  
  These 'voices of reason' are who SINS finds themselves cooperating with now. Strange bedfellows to be sure, but few things about SINS were ever ordinary.

 

[Sepokku]

• SINS Black Site (Somewhere in the South Atlantic), March 20th, 1991
• March 21st, 1991, Krzygzstan

• "Anthrax? Hopefully everyone here is up to date with their vaccinations." He turned to look at the newly arrived Agent. "Wouldn't want to catch something," The corner of his mouth turned up slightly as he sneered at Agent Ghoul, then his gaze turned to Agent Morgan, seemingly looking through the man. He stared for a moment, before scratching his nose and sniffing the air dismissively.
  
  "Well new blood," Standing up, John made his way to a door on the other side of the briefing room. "See you in a quarter hour."
  
  As he continued out of the room, he grabbed one of the agents seated at a desk in the hallway outside, hauling them to their feet by their collar. "You know guns, yes?"
  
  "Y-yes?"
  
  "Help me find Halchiitah Atsá."
  
  "Find what!?" The agent was a sizeable man, stout with tanned leathery skin, but John dragged him along as if he weighed little more than a stuffed animal.
  
  "Halchiitah Atsá, er... Desert Eagle. You know," Using his free hand John pointed at his head, index finger extended with the thumb raised up like the hammer of a gun, "Bang."
• John hung from the side of the Black Hawk, his left hand gripping a length of paracord secured to the inside of the aircraft while his tongue lolled slightly out of the side of his mouth. The crisp mountain air tasted exquisite on his refined palate, especially at such a height, the flowering herbs and medicinal plants creating a cocktail of scents. It was not as far up as he could have flown on his own, but not having to keep himself aloft allowed for a more relaxing flight; life was full of such trade-offs. The closer they got to their destination, the more wildlife could be seen roaming the ground below. A roaming herd of sheep was but a spattering of dots on the landscape, the leopard that was stalking them blending into the background almost perfectly, telltale blurs of movement giving it away. He could even pick out several martens, a family perhaps, darting through the trees, hunting for nesting birds. Though by far, his favorite sight was a tired lynx sunbathing on a warm rock, such idle pleasure was how he hoped to end the day.
  
  It was an appealing territory, the land was plentiful and secluded enough once you got to the top of the range, a perfect hunting ground; and it had to be, his associate would have nothing less. The indigenous people named this place The Heavenly Mountains of God, supposedly it was home to the Creator, or at least a powerful Sky God. The belief in the land's divinity was strong enough that some of the more devout locals even practiced a form of animism; perhaps their pantheon had room for a God called John.
  
  The beat of the Black Hawk's wings was deafening, even more so than the ones in Grenada; it seemed there had been some hardware upgrades since he had been decommissioned. "Almaty is close," John's voice crackled to life over the headsets that allowed for communication despite the roar of the helicopter blades. "If they see us coming our targets will scatter and the whole mission is fucked. As such, we'll be landing at the Kolsai Lakes." He kept looking, as he had been for the past half hour, not entirely certain what he was looking for, but certain he would know it when he saw it.
  
  His free hand touched the firearm that was strapped to his thigh. Rather than a Desert Eagle, he had been convinced to go with the LAR Grizzly, partly because it could be broken down to fire a smaller caliber, and partly because John felt that the way of the Grizzly was preferred to that of the Eagle for this mission. For a moment he doubted his decision, but then he saw it. A family of Tian Shen Brown Bears had stopped, sniffing about the treeline, before turning around and headed back the way they came. The only thing large enough to give a fully grown bear pause would be another bear, and they were never that territorial in the springtime. John ducked back inside and made his way to the pilot.
  
  "There, in that clearing, put us down there."
  
  "What clearing?"
  
  "Directly North of Lake Kaindy, past the gully."
  
  "There's a lot of gullies."
  
  John let out a snarl of annoyance, taking a moment to look at the radar equipment and ascertain where they were. "Forty-two degrees, fifty-nine minutes, fifteen seconds North. Seventy-eight degrees, twenty-seven minutes, fifty seconds East."
  
  "Confirmed," The pilot pressed forward on the throttle, creating a jarring jerk of movement as the aircraft zipped forward, blades whirring ever faster.
  
  Grinning, John made his way back to the rest of the Agents, "Almaty is eighty miles north-northwest of our drop zone, figure that's the place to start. Ya'll will likely need a vehicle to pass into town undetected. While that is being sorted, I'll be getting the lay of the land."

 

[DarKnight36]

Daiyu had given little to no indication she understood where she was at, or who she was with, since her arrival at SINS. She had not spoken a word, had never raised her eyes, and had barely moved. Even now, she sat listless, as if she were a doll. Her only sign of life was the slow but steady breathing and the occasional blink.

However, her presence on the Blackhawk seemed to counter that lack of interaction - she certainly hadn't been ordered to pick one team or the other. She hadn't followed anyone either; she had walked in quietly and not moved a muscle since. Her blank expression changed only slightly when John named the drop zone, seemingly confirming she heard the orders.

Her fingers twitched. The mission was about to start.

 

[MisoraUni]

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  Mentions/Interactions

  
  
  
  

  @ others on the blackhawk | @ -- | @ --
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Mellina

Agent Kitsune

After mulling over the two choices, Mellina opted to not deal with the nukes. She doesn’t like hearing explosions, it messes with her abilities a bit. Sure she can see the sound waves but half of her control comes from being able to actually hear properly.

So, here she is, on this Helicopter of other uh… ‘special’ individuals on the way to deal with some bio weapon? She wasn’t quite sure what that entailed…

“What is Anthrax anyway? Like what does it do exactly?” She didn't ask anyone in particular but hoped someone would enlighten her. It was the first time anyone would have actually heard her speak since arriving. Her voice wasnt particularly spectacular, just a typical swedish accent.

She rested her chin on her guitar case and wrapped her arms around it whilst waiting for an answer. The goofy SINS uniform she was made to wear wasn't really to her liking but at least she has a kitsune mask to wear.

♡coded by uxie♡