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Fandom Mysterious Mysteries.

Amiulord

Amiulord

New Member

  • “… and so it looks like that celery has made sales already. Back to you Tom.”

    “And may I say what a lovely job they did with those gardens. Put on your foil hats for this story, because sources say this one might not be just another hoax. Multiple reports have come in that strange pits and sink holes are forming in various places around the globe, so now we’ll be moving on to Tyler who has exclusive information on this story.”

    “Thanks Tom, It appears that many locals of various nations, including Russia, China, and multiple countries in south America and the middle east have reported strange happenings that may even be supernatural in origin. Sound farfetched? Well we thought so too, but the interference of governments of these nations seems to suggest something real may indeed be happening, and unlike our shallow well of information on the subject, some sources say these pits may even be bottomless. More on this story as it developes, back to you again Tom…"

    Whether you heard this on the radio or saw it on television, yet another potential hoax of the supernatural has come into your generation. Whether you care about this incident or not, whether you want to believe it or disregard it as another crap news story, your life goes on. Where do you begin your journey?
 
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Player Name: Vorpal Chandelier
Character Name: Orson Gary Peters
Character Appearance: Short Dark Brown Hair with grey streaks, Pale Skin, Hazel Eyes. 5'6" with slim but toned build. Wears long sleeves and a glove on right hand to hide his "prosthetic arm", ratty looking clothes and boots. Various scars about the body, limbs, and face.
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Backstory: ???
Attributes: (rank best to worst from 6-1)
Str (5), Dex (6), Con (2), Int (4), Wits (3), Social (1)
Skills:
Melee combat: 3, Martial Arts: 1, Ranged Combat:3 , Technology: 3, Acrobatics: 3, Stealth: 2
Special: Hurricane's Gift: Orson seems to be under possession of some sort of biological machine "suit" that has, for reasons unknown replaced his right arm. This suit's abilities have yet to be fully disclosed, but it appears that the suit requires energy to function, as well as supply him with natural armor, disguise capabilities, and even weaponry. It's possible that the suit had a hand in the mysterious circumstances involving his several story fall, and seems to cause Orson some worry when the charge is low. This suit also seems to allow him to blend into his surroundings, as well as provide enhanced jumps, and air based transportation using some sort of rocket-like thrusters in the foot portion of the suit, allowing him to effectively roller blade/skate on the air.
Player Color and Codes: Dark Blue. Code is color=darkblue or color=00008B .
Info Currently Kept Secret From all but GM, Will Edit as Information Becomes Unlocked Through RP.
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Player Name: Vorpal Chandelier
Character Name: Hurricane
Character Appearance: ??? Taller than Orson
Age: ???
Gender: Male
Backstory: ??? Apparently once a prisoner, apparently gifted a bio-mechanical "suit" to Orson.
Attributes: (rank best to worst from 6-1)
???
Skills:
??? Technology: ???
Special: ???
Player Color and Codes: Dodger Blue. Code is. color=dodgerblue or color=1E90FF .
Info Currently Kept Secret From all but GM, Will Edit as Information Becomes Unlocked Through RP.

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Player Name: Vorpal Chandelier

Name: Keenan Murphy

Appearance: Overweight, old, and balding, but still in good enough shape to whup ass. What’s left of his hair is a grey that isn’t quite white nor dark, with cold blue eyes. Often seen sporting a pipe or cigar and a Navy colored flat cap, he typically wears three layers on his upper body. The outermost being a tough Navy colored Cotton Duck Coat, followed by a buttoned flannel shirt, and ending with a comfortable cotton long sleeved T-shirt. For his pants and shoes he usually wears old jeans and work boots, but has been known to go with khaki work pants made from fairly tough materials, and black professional shoes or crocks with black socks.

Age: 58

Gender: Male

Backstory: Keenan Murphy grew up dreaming of following in his father’s footsteps, and always wanted to become a police officer, but when his father died in in the line of duty his heart filled with grief and doubt, ultimately becoming angry at his father for choosing the life that took him away from his family, and even angrier and his mother and kin for immortalizing him as a hero.

After high school, Keenan moved to a new town in a new state and took a blue collar job at a steel mill, spending his days working and his evenings drinking himself unconscious before starting the day again, completely leaving his life behind. Despite this, one day he met a woman who he became fond of, and after just a year together they got married and shortly after had a son.

Unfortunately, what looked to be a promising way out of his alcoholism turned into a grittier one as one day when he came home late, he had found that a small street gang had broken into his home and murdered wife and child in what was suspected as a robbery gone wrong.

Sadly for Keenan, the suspects of the incident were found innocent after the trial, due to a combination of problems with the evidence, a lack of witnesses willing to testify, and sloppy police work.

He had never been a sympathetic or empathetic person, but now that he was the one feeling the pain of a crime gone unpunished, he decided to go back to his old plan, with a new outlook. At age 21 he enrolled as a police officer and worked as a police officer for 7 years before his outstanding work and investigative skills granted him a promotion to detective, where he spent 22 years putting criminals behind bars before it was discovered by his old partner that he had also been, accepting bribes, using excessive force, and all around having been a dirty cop going back at least 5 years into his promotion to detective, and possibly back even further.

His partner, caring too much for Keenan to see his life turn into the mess that would follow an official report, gave Keenan an ultimatum; either retire early, or face the consequences of his actions. Keenan, infuriated, but also terrified of the idea of being incarcerated for his crimes, and imprisoned with the very scum he helped put away, took the deal and retired early.

Now living off a fraction of his wages from his retirement fund cut short, he supplements his income working as a private investigator, as well as taking bounties or doing any other work that fits his own warped code of justice.



Attributes: (rank best to worst from 6-1)

Str (3), Dex (1), Con (2), Int (5), Wits (6), Social (4)

Skills:

Investigation: 3, Intimidation: 2, Deceit: 2, Ranged combat: 2, Hand to Hand combat: 2, Stealth: 2, Lock picking: 2

Special:

Friends in low places: Keenan has access to contacts in both the police force and the street, dirty cops and criminals alike, from his various travels working the past eight years as a freelancer, moving from place to place around the United States, as well as his deep rooted history in the town in which he served as an officer of the law.

Player Color and Codes: Dark Slate Blue. code is color=darkslateblue or color=483D8B

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Player Name: Minako
Name: Cora Grimm
Character Description: Long, vibrant red, shiny hair tight in a well groomed pony tail reveals a strong, tense, yet attractive face. The expressive dark reddish eyes that adorn her face do not hide exhaustion well, and they look rather empty when no one is looking. She has fair skin with a healthy complexion that goes well with her light skin, and her eye-brows are well-shaped and well-placed onto her face.

She has a rather busty body build, shapely hips, is about normal height (5'6 or so). Has a scar on her left shoulder that she usually covers up with a bandage and tattoos of blue dragons running down each of her legs, with yellow scales on top. Usually wearing fancy cocktail dresses or long, sequined black dresses adorned with high heels.
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Character Color and code: Crimson | DC143C
Backstory: Cora never thought her life would take a downward spiral after graduating high school and having a new baby sister be born around the same time, but everything changed once her parents tragically died in a car accident soon after Misty's birth. Not only did she have to provide for her infant sister on her own, but she had trouble getting a job anywhere else but the famous Club Envy. At first, she was thrilled to be singer for decent pay, and was surprised an old, rich friend from high school by the name of Jamie Sayre helped her get this job... Until she realized the "job" was much more than simply performing on stage. Club Envy, under the table, was a brothel, and the job offer was a trap and she saw Jamie for what she really was.

Cora, known among her "suitors" as 'Red Rapunzel' for her flowing red hair, in order to keep her job and keep supporting Misty, had to go along with the "auctions" held at the club, giving herself to men countless nights, and missing much of Misty's life as she grew up due to her new "profession". She had tried many times to find employment elsewhere, but Jamie's connections always made sure other employment leads were a dead end. Though Misty gives her the will to live, and a friend whom she trusts, Rosie Chandra, that she met when Misty's friend introduced her to his elder sister, watches over her little sister daily, every time Cora is forced to give herself to a man she dies a little inside. She stopped becoming defiant when Jamie scarred her shoulder, though knowing it would be stupid to scar her face, isn't above more scars elsewhere. Not that Jamie could do much else to Cora, at this point... Cora is almost too broken to be considered a person.
Attributes: Str (1), Dex (2), Con(5), Int (3), Wits (4), Social (6)
Skills: Perform singing, perform dancing, sexual prowess, deception, and seduction.
Special: Envious ties: Her ties to whatever street gang Club Envy employs. even though she doesn't pull any weight per say, and can't give orders, she's a valuable asset most likely and because of this she's not in as much danger from outside forces.


Player Name: Minako
Name: Misty Grimm
Character Description: Mid-length, vibrant red, shiny hair, much like her elder sister, that is usually separated into pig-tails every chance Misty gets. She has the same reddish eyes as her sister, though they are not nearly as empty due to her youthful effervescence. Usually having flushed, rosy cheeks and a big smile, Misty is always brimming with life inside and out.

Misty is about average height for a girl her age (4'10) with a regular build for a child her age, and has no physical abnormalities or scars that set her apart from other little girls. She is usually wearing her school uniform and knee-high socks with black mary-janes.
Age: 11
Gender: Female
Character Color and code: Mediumorchid | BA55D3
Backstory: Orphaned shortly after she was born, Misty struggles to grow up under the guidance of her older sister and babysitter who, though loving, don't provide the same securities and nurturing as she would have received from her original mother and father. Often left to her own devices under the careful watch of Rosie, her baby-sitter, during the long absence of her sister, Misty's primary focuses turn to her schoolwork, and home living, finding it hard to relate to other children due to the differences in her upbringing, as well as an alienation she doesn't fully understand due to rumors about her and her elder sister.

She's at that age where she notices things, however, and when her sister comes homes to bruises or cuts, Misty gets very uncomfortable when he sister avoids answering her questions or blatantly lies about them for the same effect. She secretly blames herself for all her sisters troubles, and though she is happy to spend time with her friend and baby-sitter, it doesn't fill the void of being with her only remaining living family member.
Attributes: Str (1), Dex (2), Con(6), Int (5), Wits (3), Social (4)
Skills: Cleaning, homework, cooking, deception, and begging.
Special: Youthful Innocence: Misty has many disadvantage due to her age, but also is treated differently than other characters because of her age. She has a distinct lack of resources and advantage due to this.


Player Name: Minako
Name: Clifton (Clif) Brownside
Character Description: Short, dark brown hair, with eyebrows that are a bit bushy and deep, blue eyes. Has a well-chiseled chin with a good complexion. Though he has a bit of a handsome face, surprisingly, and its never decorated with much else other than a smile, he almost never makes eye-contact and his demeanor makes it extremely difficult to notice this.

Clif is about average height for a man his age, if not just an inch taller, at about 5'10, and his build is slightly more muscular and in-shape than the average man due to his profession. Usually always wearing his uniform because he is almost always on duty.
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Character Color and code: Darkgreen | 006400
Backstory: Clifton had a blessed childhood being raised by two loving and providing parents... Until mother was shot to death in cold blood in front of his eyes when he was twelve years old, and though Clifton changed that night, it was for the better in the end as he resolved to protect the innocent, which is why he struggled to become an Officer of the law. He deemed this as his fault, however, for the shooting was caused by his rash desire to keep a robber from stealing his mothers precious jewels and engagement ring. His father, however, never really recovered from the loss and has been distant from Clif ever since. Though Clif went to public elementary school at his mothers request, once she died he was home-schooled all through-out middle school until his last two years of high school.

Choosing not to follow in fathers footsteps, distancing his father more from him, he choose to go to the Police academy with his child-hood friend, Chase Fallon, and high-school friend Tripp Mugnai.

Attributes: Str (2), Dex (5), Con(6), Int (1), Wits (3), Social (4)
Skills: Melee combat, ranged combat (gun only), investigation, persuasion, and intimidation.
Special: Officer of the law: Simply gives him access to stuff police have access too, including his "backup" .

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Player Name: BestrJestr

Character Name: Chak

Appearance: (Insert Pic Here)

Age: Grown one, but young-for

Gender: No goose, Goblin man

Backstory: No hair, strong like ox, Wait, story of life, not back? You human words are big odd… Very well, Listen and be still, this is a strong good tale. Chak was born a big small, runt of runts but with head of full grown. Chak born tribe not good good like his now tribe, they leave Chak behind, big alone at small, small age. Chak move very slow and clumsy forcuz his head take up top percentage of body, so they take Chak out and leave him in snow for wolven kin. And come they did the wolven kind, all around they gathered as the pack father approach-ed Chak. Elder Sha-Man say that every once in blue moon, a pack of wolves will find a wee-bab and rear it to be wolfish. That is not what is Chak story. Pack father was a might bit hunger-y and Chak look like good tasty snack. That is how Chak discover his big favorite thing of himself. Chak has big mighty chomper fangs, and Chak use them much well. Chak sink big teeth into pack father so hard, pack father cry might big and run off Chak in tow. Chak such good chomper that he stay fast stuck onto pack father as he careen off of cliff and into Big Cold Lake. Chak for sure think he freeze-drown in slush water like pack father, but his big head is good good for floats. As for the big freeze, cold cold never bother Chak like it bother other Snow Gobs. So Chak do big many waits in Big Cold Lake, and just when Chak think he starve of no food, a small-boat come and find Chak, and pull him out of water. That how Chak find his new good good tribe, we are mighty Frostwood Clan and we are best of Snow Gobs. Hunter Gobs take Chak to the Mighty Chief and the Elder Sha-Man, and they say that Frostwood will take care of Chak as one of them. That is where Chak live child-life and become a grown one. Chak still clumsy child but Frostwood Gobs no care, they love Chak as him, but Chak want to help new tribe so he learn from Elder Sha-Man the ways of tribe magic and special plants. Chak really good too, he so good that Elder Sha-Man let him mix heal-ey plants for wounded hunters and warriors. But Chak is more than Sha-man learner. As Chak grow he get big mighty strong, forcuz his head take up top percentage of his body, and eventually Chak no longer clumsy and slow. Not only is Chak best mighty chomper and Sha-Man learner, but he also fastest and most sneakiest hunter in tribe. Chak no need weapons either forcuz Chak has best mighty chompers. That is forcuz why Elder Sha-Man name Chak as such, it sound of teeth gnashing. It not take long for Chak to become big respected by Frostwood Clan. Many time pass when Chak is only Hunter Gob to bring big food to Gob Clan. Chak has mighty best sniffer too, he find food by nose power bester than any wolven kin. Chak find food anywhere anytime, that is why Frostwood make Chak new Mighty Chief after old chief beartrap fetish go bad bad. When Chak become chief he have to make big tough decisions for good good of clan, but he always seem to make good choice. Chak big hate warring, but sometimes other Gobs or big folk come to hurt the Frostwood Clan, and Chak have to use big mighty chompers to drive them away, but Chak is big mighty tough, and weapons break on his massive head. Chak can take a big many attacks and still be fine, he still feel the hurt, but that just is Gob life. One time rival Gobs threw splodey-fire at Chak and one went in his mouth. Chak ate it forcuz it is big habit to eat all things that go in mouth. Chak no get hurt from that though, Chak has big iron gullet, and he chase off splodey Gobs with a mighty big anger. But Chak no see other Gobs in many while, not since the ground mother opened her maw and ate the Frostwood Clan in one big mighty gulp. There is no sky anymore, and our Clan-Home is gone, but we found a big folk structure made of rock and wood, and we live there until we find a better Clan-Home. It still is cold though, and the chill in the air is a comfort to Chak as he explores to learn his new land. Chak travels alone, he told the Hunter Gobs, and the Warrior Gobs to stay in the for now home to protect the clan from the strange new beasts that are found in this bad dark place. Chak find strange worms while travelling, they burrowed into a wolven kin, and made it big big angry, but when they try to burrow in Chak they squeak loud and run away. Chak caught a few and tried one, they taste big big good, and they always try to eat Chak, so they are big easy to catch. Chak told the Elder Sha-Man, and he says worms no like us Gobs for some reason, but he burned some special plants to keep them away forcuz in case. Chak need to find better Clan-Home, forcuz he needs to find how to go back to real home.

Attributes: (rank best to worst from 6-1)
Str (4), Dex (5), Con(6), Int (1), Wits (3), Social (2)

Skills: Survival Skills (4), Shamanic Magic (3), Shamanic Herbalist (4), Stealth (4),

Special: Chak is from an alternate universe that has very prominent magical fantasy elements. As a Goblin from said universe, he boasts a higher damage threshold/supernatural endurance, an oversized nigh indestructible head, a big mouth full of razor sharp teeth that can pierce virtually anything, and an indestructible digestive system that allows him to digest anything he manages to swallow. He also has a primal sense of smell.

Player color and Codes:

Player Name: BestrJestr

Character Name: Marcus Winters

Appearance: (Insert Pic)

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Backstory: When Marcus was born, something about the circumstances of his birth awakened the latent spiritual ability within those of his mother’s bloodline. From an early age he saw the ghosts and spiritual echoes of those who met a particularly gruesome, and for them, confusing, end. Instead of fearing such harrowing imagery, Marcus instead felt a great deal of pity and sorrow for those wrenched from life and banned from death. While any other child his age would cower and hide, he spoke to them, befriended them, and tried to help them move on as best he could. His father, a brilliant scientist and inventor, grew concerned that his son had some sort of mental disorder, while his mother, a soldier in the U.S, armed forces, shrugged it off as an imaginary friend phase that he’d eventually grow out of. He was wrong and she was right in a way, as was usually the case between the two, as testing showed that Marcus was in perfect mental health, and as Marcus grew he became smarter about communing with his spiritual friends. When Marcus turned 10 his parents had another child, a second son whom they named Damian. Marcus was thrilled to have a little brother, and kept a watchful eye on him as to determine if he shared his gift for spiritual communication which, much to Marcus’ relief, he did not. They lived as a happy family for seven good years before the company their father worked for went bankrupt, and their mother had to reenlist to help provide for her family. A few months into her deployment she went missing in action, and has remained that way ever since. Their father, devastated by the loss, tried to hold out hope for her, but as the years passed he assumed her to have died and fell into a deep, closed off, state of being, providing financial and structural support to his sons, but little else. Marcus, approaching legal adulthood, took up the mantle of a guardian to Damian, providing emotional support and moral guidance more akin to that of a father than a brother. As a result Marcus picked up work here and there to supplement their income and make sure Damian could afford whatever future he wanted to pursue, focusing less on his spiritual abilities as a result. In a little less than a year Marcus graduated high school and was able to pick up more work, including small time Private Investigation, such as spying on spouses and such. As he honed these skills he began to notice that his father was acting more and more distant. This wouldn’t have surprised Marcus if not for the fact that he began to isolate himself to take work calls. This was even more perplexing due to the fact that he was always very open and honest about what he was working on. One of the only times he acted like a true father to Damian since their mother was when Damian began to show an interest, and an aptitude for science. But now all of his phone calls were had in hushed voices behind locked doors. He also began to notice strange goings on around the house. Things moving from one place to another of their own vocation, lights flickering and ceiling fans rocking while off. Initially he believed this to be his spirit friends, disgruntled with his recent neglect, but they assured him that they had nothing to do with it. Marcus would have thought they were linked unless he had overheard his father’s phone call one night. Marcus was never a scientific genius, but he knew enough techno babble to realize what he had been talking about. They were developing a serum to enhance the power of the human mind, but lacked test subjects of the appropriate age and mental capacity. It turned out Damian hit both marks, and their father had been subjecting him to experimentation to further their research. Furious and horrified at this discovery, he reached out to a former client with connections and cashed in one of the many IOU’s he had accumulated with them to help him relocate with Damian somewhere their father would never find them. After a few proxy locations to throw off any investigators sent after them, Marcus and Damian eventually landed in a seedier neighborhood in New York City. Life was rough there at first, but the cash his former client started them with gave Marcus time to find stable work, and the limited combat and firearm training his mother instilled in him helped him to establish himself as someone not to be fucked with. As the years progressed Marcus was able to develop the limited training into his own “fighting style” that he deemed brutal, precise, and effective. He did this initially as a way to ensure Damian’s protection, but it certainly started coming in handy as he gained his P.I. license and began to establish a small customer base, specializing in cases that have gone cold, but ultimately accepting any paying job that was on the up and up. As the years went on Marcus kept the truth from Damian, opting to tell him that their dad had died in an accident and they had to move because they couldn’t afford the house anymore. As he grew Damian developed Psychokinetic abilities, and grew increasingly more intelligent. Marcus taught him how to defend himself as his mother had taught him, and enrolled them both in parkour classes, in case they had to escape danger. He passed these off as precautions in case any enemies he made come looking for trouble, but Marcus knows it’s only a matter of time before he finds out the truth, or his father finds them. Damian is now the age Marcus was when their mother went MIA, and Marcus can’t shake the feeling that something very bad is about to happen.

Attributes: (rank best to worst from 6-1)
Str (6), Dex (3), Con(5), Int (2), Wits (4), Social (1)

Skills: Investigation (5), Parkour (1), Melee Combat (5), Ranged Combat (1), Insight (3),

Special: Spirit Medium: Marcus’ family on his mother’s side has an ancient history of spiritual aptitude. As such he has the ability to see and interact with spirits, including spirit echoes. As a result of his connection with the realm of spirits he is haunted by a Banshee, who will wail into his ear to warn him of impending danger.

Player color and Codes: Gold #FFD700

Player Name: BestrJestr

Character Name: Damian Winters

Appearance: (Insert Pic)

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Backstory: His parents both dying when he was very young, Damian was raised by his brother Marcus in a shitty apartment in a seedy New York City neighborhood. Despite this and the fact that they don’t usually have much in the way of money, Damian is consistently upbeat and cheerful, often bringing those around him up, and making their lives better. Though no one would call him a normal guy by any definition of the word, he always seems to be well liked by anyone who meets him, and he always seems to know how you are, and what to say to cheer you up should you be down. This is due to the very same thing that allows him to be so overwhelmingly happy despite most things in his life being mediocre at best. Damian, for as long as he can remember, has had Psychokinetic, and Psycho-Empathic abilities. Marcus insists he hide these powers for fear of what the government will do if they find out, and Damian agrees wholeheartedly, though he still insists he learn to use them, if for no other reason than to make sure they never get out of hand. Marcus reluctantly agrees, but makes sure these sessions are strictly controlled so that no one could possible witness them. Damian agrees with this logic as well. Though seemingly immature and childish due to his quirky and free spirited nature, Damian is remarkably sensible and intelligent for a boy his age, already surpassing all of his teachers in intelligence. Despite this he gets average grades due to his whimsical procrastination, though he’ll swear on his life it’s part of his cover up when Marcus confronts him about it. Damian is on his senior year if high school, and aspires to be a scientist like his late father.

Attributes: (rank best to worst from 6-1)
Str (2), Dex (5), Con(1), Int (6), Wits (3), Social (4)


Skills: Science (3), Parkour (5), Melee Combat (1), Technology (2), Mechanics (2), Electronics (2),


Special: Enhanced Mind: Due to experimentation by his father (unbeknownst to him) Damian has developed enhanced intelligence, as well as Psychokinetic, and Psycho-Empathic abilities. This experimentation also awakened his families latent spiritual affinity, allowing him to see and interact with spirits (unbeknownst to him, yet again)
 
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Player color and Codes: Brown. Code is #993300
Player Name: FlumpPod
Character Name: Ashley Nilpine
Appearance: 5'9" with a runner's build, deeply tanned skin, amber eyes, long dirty blonde hair typically in a ponytail, crooked nose, sharp cleft chin, typically wears dark slacks and light long sleeved button ups with a running jacket.
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Backstory: Born and raised in Roswell, New Mexico, Ashley is no stranger to talk of aliens and the paranormal. As a kid, she and her siblings were in a car wreck with their grandfather one night that killed their little sister and put their grandfather in a coma. Ashley remembers it differently.

She remembers the car dying in the middle of the empty road and the sand outside the window lighting up as if from a streetlight, but this road didn't have any. She remembered Courtney grabbing her hand with both of hers and whimpering, while grandpa Steve tried to start the car again. She looked at Courtney then Willy, both their eyes wide as dinner plates from fear, both reflecting that out of place light. Then she remembers struggling while something held her and a sharp pain in her head and nose. Then she's back in the car, it's dark again, Courtney is gone, Willy is slumped against the driver's seat breathing heavily. The airbag is deployed and pinning grandpa Steve to his seat, the windshield is broken and bloody. A semi truck is there on the road, grandpa's car is off the road in a ditch, front end facing the road. Ashley's nose still hurt and the wind felt really cold on her lower face. She felt her face, it was warm and wet, blood. She heard voices. From there her memory matched the police report, she got out of the car and followed the voices to the semi. No driver, but the radio was on and asking for response. Ashley got on and cried until police and paramedics arrived. The semi driver was never found, and only Courtney's right hand was recovered from the scene. Police investigators speculate she was "liquefied from high-speed impact with [the semi] after being ejected from her vehicle."

Resolving to finding out the truth after years of denial from her parents, therapists, and police Ashley got her degree in investigative journalism and had her big break on a story involving an Al-Qaeda human trafficking ring along the southern border between New Mexico and Mexico in 2015. Since then she has been in a federal protection program and working as an intelligence liaison for the FBI and CIA as they see fit to contact her. She has spent her free time training for a counter-intelligence(spy) position in the CIA and scouring the net for anything suspicious, which is how she met MushiHime.

Attributes: Str (1), Dex (2), Con(3), Int (5), Wits (6), Social (4)
Skills: athletics 3, investigate 4, science 2, history 1, bluff 2, stealth 1, technology 1, ranged combat 1
Special: ???
 
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Player color and Codes: Purple code is #553993 Screen name: Green code is #66cd00
Player Name: FlumpPod
Character Name: Beck? Screen name: MushiHime
Appearance: ? Screen name: An avatar of some cutesy anime character
Age: ? Screen name: 3.2 billion
Gender: ? Screen name: Female
Backstory: An ethical hacker(Cracker/white hat hacker) who lives and breathes the web. MuHi(as her peers refer to her) has been a regular on messenger boards and chat rooms as long as those services have been around, changing her screen name and avatar over time. She claims to be an alien entity who has infected the web with her consciousness, allowing omniscience over networked devices. Rumored to have been the source of several of the first "worm" viruses from the early 90's that are still being found on new devices today. She found Ashley on the paranormal board of 4chan talking about an alien encounter. They talked and decided to work together when they could, as peers who have seen some of the truth.

Real story unknown. Likes pizza. Adopted? Student at MIT working on 2 doctorate degrees in unknown fields. Under protection of the Wave Gate Mercenary Corps due to (deceased) father's connections to their group.

Attributes: Str (1), Dex (4), Con(2), Int (6), Wits (5), Social (3)

Skills: technology 5, psychology 3, science 3, conspiracy 2, art 2

Special: ???
 
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"Haha, how did you even find a radio station for news like that, Ash?" a man in a blue suit asked as he leaned back to look around the cubicle wall.

"They've advertised it for years, Jake; you just don't pay attention. And it has real news, unlike your political stations," the young woman replied with a smirk. Already seeing what else she could find on the new story.

"Woah, WTOP only presents the finest news stories concerning hard-hitting political topics. We live in D.C., we've got to keep up with these things," Jake stood up to stretch while defending his radio choice.

"Yes, like last week's multi day coverage of President Trump's mismatched socks that turned out to have just been lint on the camera lens? Anyways, come look at this people have been talking about those holes for a few days online," Ashley beckoned him over to her screen. They spent a couple minutes reading some different sites.

"Hmm, this definitely sounds like it could be an investigation in the works. You want to go check out the one in Siberia? It sounds like it's the least guarded."

"Maybe when I'm an actual agent, but for now I think I'll stay here, where it is at least somewhat warm. Besides someone has to keep you company."

"Yes, thank you for getting me assigned to this forgotten satellite office where we have a floor to ourselves, and the dry cleaners downstairs are somehow always too busy to clean my coat. Come on, let's go grab some food."

"I'm pretty sure they are just a cover business for our security, but food sounds good, are we taking the govie?"

"Only if you can listen to WTOP," Jake said already holding the keys to the new government vehicle parked in the alley.

"Deal, but we're going to my burger place."
 
“This had better work.”

“It’ll work kid, don’t blow a gasket.”

“It just had better work is all, and it’s too damn quiet around here. It’s always too damn quiet now.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, you want me to rustle up some trouble?”

“No! …well, I mean no, it’s not… that’s not what I meant. I just mean… It doesn’t feel right that’s all.”

“If you ask me you should appreciate that part of it. Well, all of it really. Think about what would have happened otherwise.”

“I’d rather not.”

As nervous as he was he was almost even more nervous thinking about the possibility of success. What would happen to him if he succeeded? If he did survive, everything would be so different, what would he even do with himself? What If he never found it, would he just be stuck with it? Would he have the means to keep it fed?
He did his best to shake the looming dread and continued his work. He had already removed the panel and connected various wires and other mechanics, and was just about finished triple checking that everything was as Hurc had instructed.

He carefully placed the panel back into place and bolted it back down, brushing the wiggling little pains in the ass off of his new workspace and placing down a thick, heavy, and beat up keyboard he had assembled recently, also with Hurc’s instruction.

I owe so much to him… but really do I? I mean, isn’t this all their fault in the first place? No, don’t think like that Orson, he’s your friend… or is he really? He’s done so much for you, but is that out of friendship or guilt?

Like his worry about their current project, he decided to push those questions down as well for now, and plugged his keyboard in, reaching over to the power switch and throwing it on.

No response.

“Hurc!” He growled irately.

“It’ll work, give it time.”

“What does that even mean? Are you sure we did everything correctly? How do you even know how to work with this shit anyway? That’s it, I’m-“

Before he could finish he heard a click and a loud continuous humming sound coming from the base of the machine.

“See. Told you it would work. Just needed a sec. It’s been offline for a long time, can’t expect it to just jump and run.”

After a moment the screen lit up, then flashed, then a man came onto the screen. His dark brown hair was a mess, his hazel eyes filled with worry, and a face that almost seemed more aged than it should. Scarred and weathered at it looked back at him as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“How do I turn the damn camera off?” he muttered to himself as he fidgeted with his jury rigged control system.

A large cold hand fell heavy on his shoulder. “You sure you want to do this kid…? I mean, once you get this thing going, there’s no turning back… either it works, or we’re fried.”

“What choice have I got Hurc, we’ve looked everywhere else, and we just can’t make it to the lab as things are now. It’s really our only shot…”

“Alright then. If you’re sure. Orson Gary Peters, It’s been a pleasure serving with you.” He saluted as he spoke his sentiment.

“Thanks man… you too.” He began the sequence, both nervously waiting, anticipating, hoping, but nothing.

“Damn… Well I guess it was worth a sh-“

BANG!​

The sound was accompanied by flying bolts and scraps of machine as the console exploded, miniature bolts of lightning shooting from what used to be the core of the console.

“Hurricane what’s happening!?” Orson shouted.

“The *crackle crackle* happen*crackle*” He couldn’t make out what he was saying, but there was too much going on around them, he tried to get up, but he couldn’t, so he began to crawl.

“Hurricane!” He was getting as close as he could, reaching for his friend, his mentor.

“Or*crackle* ge*crackle crackle*” He still couldn’t hear him.

A bolt of lightning from the console hit Hurricane dead on, electricity beginning to surge through him as he began to seize.

“NOOO!”

Then he himself was struck, and a flash of light, followed by nothing, cold, dark, nothing.
 
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[div class=anon] MushiHime (ID: MuHi0123) 04/04/18(Wed)18:03:43 No. 90915689

Hello, my lovelies~!<3
I see we've all heard about those holes, does anyone here have any first-hand knowledge, or are we still working with just what the media and other sites have told us?[div class=bananon](USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)[/div][/div][div class=anon] Anonymous (ID: FnG07tD0) 04/04/18(Wed)18:03:52 No. 90915692

MuHi-sama!!<3 2 days ago an anon talked about one in China but the thread is gone. Who has screencaps?[div class=bananon](USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)[/div][/div][div class=anon] Anonymous (ID: nA928fL1) 04/04/18(Wed)18:03:55 No. 90915693

MuHi-sama, there was a thread here >>90915508 but it is down now.[div class=bananon](USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)[/div][/div][div class=anon] Anonymous (ID: n9wNb5lD) 04/04/18(Wed)18:04:00 No. 90915696

>>90915692
thread got taken down and users have been getting banned for sharing screen shots, even on other sites. Hi, Hime.[div class=bananon](USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)[/div][/div][div class=anon]Jackal !jL08S8lw ## Moderator 04/04/18(Wed)18:04:10 No. 90915698

MushiHime, your ban(s) have not, and will not expire. Please stop posting here.[div class="banmod remove"](MODERATOR WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST)[/div][/div][div class=reply]>>Reply Click here, there is more.[/div][div class="lastpost remove"]MushiHime !MuHi0123 ## Admin 04/04/18(Wed)18:04:30 No. 90915702

>>90915698
No, you. =p
>>90915692
>>90915693
>>90915696
Thread recovered, thanks~! Stay safe out there. <3[/div][div class="lastpost remove"] Anonymous (ID: FnG07tD0) 04/04/18(Wed)18:04:52 No. 90915705

kek, mods are gods, but even gods bow to MushiHime-sama![/div]

[div class="normal remove"]The hacker hummed to them-self as they got to work actually recovering the deleted thread, now that they had the old URL it shouldn't be hard.
...
After some time they had it, but it looked just as bogus as the rest of the leads. Even the location data on the photos was exactly the same as the rest, the North Pole. Doubting Santa had anything to do with this whole hole business, the hacker sighed.

"I guess that's all there is so far then. Buuu~ I guess I'll order pizza."
...
"Have a good weekend, I'm on vacation starting...now."

"Thanks, Mick. Take it easy. And make sure you spend some time with Suzy!"

The delivery driver just waved with the back of his hand as he walked towards the beat up delivery scooter. Pizza in hand it was time to bother another nosy person via email.[/div]
 
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Nothing, then fluttering, flittering, muffled groaning. Murmuring, speaking, fuzzy dots.

“MMmwwwmmmwm. Wmwmmwmwm! Wmwmwmw. Wmwm-right man? Hey, I think there’s something wrong with him.”

“Yeah, he’s probably coked out of his mind! Yes hello? Yes a strange man just fell through our ceiling. No not my house, at the office! You know, those paneled ceilings, I think he was like, living up there or something, he smells, he’s covered in god knows what, and I think he’s high on something.”

“No Rhonda, I think he’s hurt or some- Hey man, just be cool, lay back down man.”

Orson felt a sharp pain as a hand pressed against his chest, tryng to guide him back onto the floor. His blurred vision becoming clear again, and several similarly dressed people staring at him with a mixture of fear and concern, papers flying around the room. He grabbed the man’s wrist, moving it from his chest and began to get up.

Did it work? Where am I?

“Hey buddy, you need to lay back down man, the police are already on their way so don’t like… freak out or anything ok? Can I get you anything?”

“Are you kidding me Harold? The guy just falls through-“

“Look Linda, I just don’t wanna agitate him you know?”

Orson soon had his footing, but if he wasn’t dead, where was Hurricane?

Wait, police? He had heard of those from Hurc, he needed to move.

Orson began looking for an exit, but saw many. How close were these police? Did he have time to choose wrong? He started to lose his balance and placed his gloved hand on a desk to sturdy himself, looking to the floor where he had landed. He noticed something strange there. There were worms, shriveled and dried as if they’d been baking on the sidewalk for some time.

I really shouldn’t leave those… but I just don’t have the time… They’re dead anyway.

As he steadied himself once again he noticed a large window acting as one of the walls to the room. One of those large business buildings no doubt…. And with a view as well.

“That’ll have to do…” He muttered to himself as he moved over to some clunky machine he had seen periodically in these types of buildings.

“Hey man, didn’t you hear me? Don’t make me get physical man… Just chill out… Why don’t you just sit down, and have a glass of water alright?”

The office worker’s arguing and attempts to reach out to him continued, and again a hand was placed on him, this time on his shoulder, where Hurc’s hand had been.

“GET OFF ME!” He cried suddenly as he reached behind to grab the man.

Clutching his tie, he brought the man around to his front and slammed him against the wall, releasing him and allowing his now unconscious, or perhaps lifeless body to slide down to the floor. The office panicked, some scattering and some moving to him, or to the man.

He lifted the large printer, and threw it through the window, causing the approaching workers to stop in their tracks.

He stumbled to the window and shielded his eyes from the now, somehow brighter, sun, before leaning forward and falling from the building.


Missing Mystery Man Meets Maker, Maybe. Office astounded after worker wounded.

Yesterday morning a New York business was surprised to discover what could possibly be a homeless person living inside their walls. Sound strange? Well, according to our sources it gets even wierder.

As one worker reached out to local authorities to remove the trespasser, a hero among them stepped up to keep the man calm, the man who eye witnesses say was most likely under the influence of drugs.

Trying to reason with the man, and even offering him a glass of water, one Harold Offerman was assaulted and rendered critically injured, just before the man, reportedly, lifted a copy machine over his head and threw it through the window.

One worker had this to say about the events.

“I tried to help him man, but this guy… there was just something wrong with him man, I’m tellin’ you that ain’t natural, and with all the talk of crop circles and hell pits man, I just… I just don’t know…”

Believe it or not, things get even more intense as eye witnesses say the man followed the printer out of the window, falling several stories to what should have been his death.

“I don’t know… I mean, I guess anyone who needs to get as out of it as he was… I guess they couldn’t be happy with their life… I mean… Why else would he do it? Maybe being found like that was his last straw… I don’t know…”

As intimidating as that may seem, our research shows that a person under the influence of certain drugs can perform feats of strength one might find unreasonable to believe, so one would think the mystery was solved, but after searching the streets for a body, authorities are still baffled.
“Well, no, we did not in fact find his body, and are unclear as of this time what happened at this point in time. No further comment.”

Authorities claim to be close to finding information regarding the jumper, but with all the strange events happening around the world lately, one can’t help but be a little unsure what to think.

More on this story as it developes.
 
The sleek black sedan turned to go to its regular parking spot in an out of the way alley in the outskirts of D.C. but the driver stopped halfway through the turn and switched to reverse.

"What's wrong, did you forget your phone again?" Ashley asked from the passenger's seat, looking up from the email on her phone.

"No, there's a car there I haven't seen before. I want a team to check it out before we go back to the office,"

"The blue one? Isn't that Mrs. Jone's from the laundromat across the street?"

"No, the rims on hers are different, more beat up, but it looks like they got the plates right. Hold on, this is gonna get hairy."

Safely backed out of the alley Jake shifts back to drive and speeds down the narrow street, towards where a garbage truck is just starting to turn onto the street.

"What's a garbage truck doing out so late?!"

Jake doesn't respond as he swerves into the other lane to go around the truck, but the truck keeps rolling into that lane as well, blocking the entire street now. He jumps the curb onto the sidewalk, hitting trashcans, potted plants and flowering shrubs. As they pass the garbage truck it hits the side of the sedan and knocks it into the wall of the building but it doesn't manage to pin the smaller vehicle. The black car scrapes by with a horrible screech and thuds back onto the road.

"Where are--" She stops as a hand pushes her head towards her knees.

"Head down, the windows are broken. We are going to a parking garage and switching cars, then we are going to--"

Small pops from behind followed by metallic ringing interrupt him. He slouches low in the seat staying just high enough to still see the road, then he passes Ashley his phone.

"Speakerphone, Ortega, now."

She fumbled with the operating system for a moment but before the first ring finished a deep voice on the other line answered.

"Ortega."

"Mathers. Are you watching the game? It just got interesting."

"I didn't know it was on, let me tune in. What happened so far?"

"Our team just had their runner smashed by the other line, almost lost the ball. But he's injured and they're going to put Wellmont on the field."

"Hmm, that's bad. Are we ahead?"

"Barely. I think the switch to Wellmont is going to put us in a bad spot."

"The team can protect Wellmont, don't worry. He'll just have to make sure to keep the ball safe. Alright, got the channel now, we'll talk tomorrow."

"See you at the office."

There was a small beep as the call ended. And they drove ducked down in silence for a minute before Jake sat back up normally.

"We're out of range, you can sit up. We'll be at the garage soon."

"Right. Where do we go after that?"

"Safehouse for the night then probably the regional office. Maybe an airport, but I don't think they'll want to send you anywhere. Just in case, start thinking about what you want from your apartment, you may not get to go back."

"Mm. Nice driving."

"One of my many skills," he waved to the security guard at the parking garage and received a nod in return. The gate was already up for them and they drove through without slowing.

They parked next to a red luxury sports car whose doors were opening up. A man and woman in suits stepped out as Jake did the same. Ashley's door was stuck so she climbed out the driver's side. Both cars were running as Jake put on sunglasses and the woman handed a pair to Ashley before wordlessly climbing into the damaged black sedan, shortly followed by the other man. Ashley sat in the sports car and put the sunglasses on.

She watched as the sedan she had been riding around in for the last 6 months pulled away into the basement while this new car glided out of the garage and onto the freeway. Once there the lenses on her sunglasses darkened further and text scrolled across them at an easy to read pace, briefing her about her new situation.
 
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I'm not kidding 01:18
If you think the earlier email was a joke, it's not. I've got my friend pulling your IP logs, I'm going to find you, you filthy hacker. You'll be sorry when I do. Just do what I asked and I'll stop.
-Jackal
Twitter notifications 00:06
MushiHime,

You have 12 new followers today bringing you to over 500,000! Congratulations! We would like to offer you the option of a paid partnership with Twitter, we would need to verify your account first with photo ID.

Please respond to this email or contact our team if you would like to pursue this offer.

Thanks for using our service!
-Twitter team
please help! 22:16
My phone got stolen and I need to erase it before the pictures on it get out, can you do it? It's a Lumia 720 and the number is 1-(485)-555-7629. Please reply!
-Citizen13
anime suggjestions? 20:45
u seem liek u hav gud taste in anime(niec toho pic) any new onez gud? lookin for cool fites.
-supergokubrawler
haaaalp 20:38
Hi. I know you're probably super busy but you're like a genious so this should be a cinch. I've got this guy who thinks he's my boyfriend and he keeps bothering me with calls and texts, I've tried blocking him but he just changes his number. Can you like change my phone number on his phone?
-badbetchxxx
play any games? 20:09
Greetings most honored Ohime-sama,
We wish to know if you play any online games(or would like to join one of ours) and if you do which ones they would be? We play lots and think we could be good partners in a guild or party. You could even lead us if you like. Please consider this offer as we would love the chance to interact with you.
-FangedFedora
homework 19:30
Will you do peoples homework for money? I heard you used to and was wondering if you could do mine, it's too hard for me. Any price you want, I really need to pass this class. Let me know?
-Mooseykins2020
boyfriend?<3 18:53
H-Hey MushiHime-sama? I have been following your work for a long time and you really seem like a great girl(or guy! no judgment here) and I was wondering if you had a boyfriend, if you're even into that stuff. I know you're super important and someone like me might not interest you, but a guy has to try, ya know? We don't even need to see each other if you don't want to, just a call or email every once in a while would be fine. If you do have someone already or you're not interested in that, maybe you'd consider a friend? I really like you and what you do for the internet(nice job with Jackal btw) and maybe a new friend could be nice, ya know? But, uh, yeah give it some thought and maybe let me know. Have a great day.
-theOnesBrother
Mysterious holes 18:40
MushiHime,

Thanks for going through all the trouble of getting these pictures and information. Could the GPS data be being messed with by a magnetic field or radio signal that the holes might put out? I know the Earth puts out a constant blank 8hz signal so maybe these holes are doing something similar that just so happens to be on a common GPS frequency. A magnetic field wouldn't be out of the question either if the holes do somehow go through the planet's crust and into the mantle or core, there is a lot of magnetic metal down there. Or this is a particularly well-executed hoax.

Either way the Russian one was spooky, the picture of the KGB director standing at the edge of the hole makes it look huge. I know you said it didn't look like any were photoshopped, but is there a way to be sure?

Thanks again, sorry for all the questions!
-cryptidwatcher09
unban me 18:27
I don't know how you did it or why you thought to go to such extremes as deleting my credentials and blocking my email from the site's owner and other admins/mods but you need to restore my account and you need to do it yesterday! You hear me?! I will find you and you will regret it if you don't, I promise you that "princess". I found this hidden email of yours after all.
-Jackal
[/div][div class=finish]Exit email[/div][div class="back hide"]Back to email[/div][div class="normal hide"]"A typical night's email. I'll have to look into the radio waves theory. Hmm, it may have been long enough that some of the investigations have been put onto the top secret networks too. I guess I'll set up a bot to break in and check in the morning. Bed time for now."
...
The quiet perimeter alarm goes off on the phone, interrupting the sleeping occupant's dreams.

They rush to the panic room and lock it, checking the security feeds immediately. A dark shape is being tracked on the front lawn, flipping the lights reveal a now very startled chocolate lab had been watering a bush.

"Ugh, I was never this scared living with Aunt Olivia. Maybe I shouldn't have moved back here." The hacker slumped to the floor, leaning against the security control panel.

They looked up to see a picture of a short older man giving a winning smile in front of a couple of women and 3 younger men all in lab coats, the older guy was holding a baby and the rest were looking at them, smiling. Their vision blurred as tears filled their eyes followed by sobs.

They curled up into a tight ball and let the swirl of grief, anger and powerlessness take them, eventually falling asleep on the floor as they had countless times before. Upon waking they wouldn't check the security footage since no other alarms were tripped so they wouldn't see the dark car that slowly pulled away, lights off, shortly after the dog finished its 4am business.[/div]
 
Tired… so tired… For as much lightning as I seemed to be hit by you would think that it wouldn’t be almost empty… I need to find a way to do this without people noticing…

Orson walked through the streets of New York City looking at the world around him. Things were so different here, he wasn’t sure what his play would be. He knew he made the trip, he just didn’t know if he was where he should be.

As he observed people and read signs around him he didn’t know what to feel, but he did find a solution to his energy problem.

He walked into a small coffee shop and took a seat near an electrical outlet on the left side of the room, facing away from the counter so that his right side would be on the outlet side. Both hands under the table, he slowly took his right glove off and closed his eyes.

Concentration was key here, and he had no shortage of pain from this morning’s events. His face contorted, as if making a great bowel movement, he pushed himself.

The small metal tiles and other various parts making up the shape of his right hand shifted and moved into various positions, fabricating what appeared to be a hand holding a cellphone. Out from the bottom of the rectangular brick the constructions of a small tube began, sliding its way toward the outlet nearby, and building a block shaped plug, inserting itself into the socket. He let out a sigh and wiped the sweat from his face, breathing heavily.

“Excuse me sir, are you alright?”

He looked up, there was a girl standing there. A concerned employee barely out of her teen years.

“I’m fine… just.. uh… charging my phone…”

As the girl moved to glance under the table suspiciously, he closed his eyes tightly again, changing his metallic hand to replicate his skin’s color tone, hoping it would be enough.

Apparently she wasn’t looking that hard, and the chameleon-like defense tactic worked.

“What model is that? Is that the new iphone?” she asked.

“Uhh… yeah…” he responded, hoping to satisfy her curiosity so that she would leave him alone.

“Oh my god that’s so cool! They’re like, not even out yet right? Are you a developer or something?”

As she looked at him in excitement he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. What was she talking about? If he said yes again would she go away this time or keep chatting like before? She was supposed to go away the first time he said yes. Maybe he’d try no this time.

“Uh… No.”

“Oh… well how’d you get it? Was there like a sweepstakes or something? If there’s a way to get one for myself I’d love to know, my phone’s being super shitty lately. I mean look at this!”

Well that didn’t work either, now she was removing her own phone and showing him things on it. Programs, user interface, the cracks and scratches on the screen. She even removed the case to show him that. She was much too friendly for his tastes, and he just sat there nodding.

What the fuck do I do? Maybe I should speed this up.

He began to strain himself again, hoping to pull more energy from the outlet at a faster rate.

He really shouldn’t have done that. The light flickered when he began and shortly they burst, loud hum from his arm and a cry of surprise from staff and “fellow customers” as the shop’s power went out, Orson gasping as it did.

“What the hell was that?” The woman asked to nobody in particular as she looked toward her co-workers and manager, who were behind the counter.

The employees all looked at eachother confused before the manager spoke.

“Sorry for the inconvenience folks, We’ll have the lights back on in a jiffy.”

He then turned to his crew.

“Thank god for the genny eh? Turn the switch and get new bulbs screwed in Lenny, Carl, get the customer’s new orders and thow out what they got, we don’t want ‘em eating glass. Jessie clean this mess up will ya?”

“Ugh… Yes sir…” The girl stated. “Sorry Sir, when you’re ready just come up to the counter to order ok? We don’t really have waiters or anything here…”

Finally she walked away, getting a broom and sweeping the glass from the floor.

Orson concentrated again, and felt that it was partially charged, but not fully.

Damn… Looks like I’ll have to do a slow charge after all…

A few minutes went by and the power came back on, customers were taken care of and everything went back to normal, and he remained undisturbed for a few more minutes before Jessie came back over.

“Sir, you sure you’re alright? You never ordered anything…”

“I’m fine.” He looked up at her again, this time her face showing concern rather than excitement.

“Sir, my boss says if you don’t order something we gotta ask you to leave.”

“What? Why? Isn’t this a public place? I've seen people sitting in places like these all day.”

Now he was confused.

“Yes sir, but those are our customers. Sure people come just to use the wifi, but they also usually order a coffee or something.”

“Oh… Well then I’ll order a coffee or something.”

“Ok, well you gotta go to the counter to order sir, we don’t have waiters or anything.”

“I don't want to go to the counter, I’m a little busy here. Can you just bring the shit over here?”

She looked at him a little irritated.

“Dude, I’m not a cash register, you gotta go over and pay for it, then we gotta take your name, you know the deal man. You act like you never been to a coffee place before.”

“Listen, you’re a very nice, very pretty girl, but you’re kinda pissin’ me off. Why don’t you go bother someone else and just leave me alone? I’m not botherin’ anybody, just let me sit here and charge my damn’ S- uh… phone.”

Jessie seemed pretty taken aback.

“If you’re just some bum how did you get the new iphone?” she looked over at her manager, who was still busy checking on customers, and slid into the booth next to him.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll buy you a coffee and a breakfast sammich so you can sit here and charge your phone, if you tell me how to get one. I mean you obviously don’t work for apple if you can’t buy a coffee, and you’re kinda dirty, and you smell… so… did you steal it?”

Orson really wanted to deck this chick in her pretty little mouth right now, but he really needed to charge up, and if choosing where he thought would be the easiest place to do it was this hard, then he figured he couldn’t afford to move on without finishing.

“I got mine… From a friend. I don’t think you could get your hands on one. Satisfied?”

She certainly didn’t seem satisfied with the answer.

“I bet you did steal it. I should call the police… unless you can get me one too?”

She smiled slyly at him. Clearly, whoever this bitch was, she was intending to blackmail him now at this point.

Are these phone things really that damn important? He saw practically everyone walking down the street staring at one, he saw people using them to flash light at each other at they smiled, and now this chick was obsessively pestering him because she thought he had the new version of hers. He was too drained and too concerned about the consequences to do anything about it, so he decided he would just humor her, and try his best to stay sane while doing it.

“No, don’t call the police, I really did get it from a friend, just chill out alright?”

She pouted a little looking back at him.

“Fine, I guess if you’re telling me what I’m asking you I should make good on my offer then.”

She got out of the seat next to him and began to walk over to the counter, talking to her boss about something. He probably could have heard the conversation if he wanted to, but he really didn’t want to listen to her voice any more than he needed to.

“Jesus Christ how long is this going to take….” He muttered looking down at his arm.

She returned yet again and this time sat across from him, setting down the sandwich and the coffee in front of him.

“I hope you like egg and sausage.” She said smiling.

He took the food item and looked it over confused, then grabbed it with his left hand and took a bite, causing her face to shift to one of confusion.

“What?”

“Uh… you’re not supposed to eat the wrapper dude… that’s just to keep you from getting messy and shit…”

He rolled his eyes and dropped the sandwich back onto the table in aggravation.

“What are you still doing here? Didn’t you say you believed me?”

“Oh yeah… about that… I was thinking… I had another suggestion.”

She smiled a little and leaned forward over the table toward him, causing him to pull away from her.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes and got up from her seat. “I’m trying to be discreet man, like whisper in your ear and shit.”

She moved to the seat next to him again and began to lean toward his ear.

“What, why?”

“Because, stupid, I was going to say, that if you took me to talk to your friend, to try to get one of those phones, then maybe I could like… do something for you in return.”

She cupped her hand over her mouth and started to whisper into his ear.

“I could like… blow you or something.” She said playfully.

Orson began to picture her pursing her lips and blowing his hair out of his face.

He looked at her in confusion. “How the fuck is that appealing?”

She sat up angrily, blushing. “What are you a I'm uncultured or something?”

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Ok, this is stupid. What do I gotta do for you to help me man, I really want the new iphone.”

“I don’t really care what you want, how is this my problem?”

“Hey, I just bought you food you ungrateful weirdo! The least you could do is help me out!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, you just keep walking over here and insisting I tell you how to get a damn phone. It’s not even an iphone ok? I was just trying to get you to go away.”

“What? Then what kind of phone is it?”

“It’s a ‘who gives a shit’, and it’s an old model, and nobody cares about it ok? Now will you leave me alone?”

She stared at him for a moment before answering.

“Oh I get it… this is one of those undercover beta test things. Apple dresses you up like a hobo and has you wander around testing the phone in varous ways so that people don’t bug you while you’re testing it. Well man, you’re doing a great job on that one. Look, I’ll do anything, you gotta hook me up with one you just gotta!”

Fuck this, it ain’t worth it.

Orson concentrated again and shifted his hand back to normal, put his glove back on, and placed his left hand on her chest, shoving her out of the seat. He then stood up, and walked out of the shop.

“Hey, what was that for?” she demanded, following him angrily down the street.

“Jessie where the hell you goin’, you shift isn’t over for another couple of hours!” the manager yelled from the doorway.

“I’m on my break, I’ll be back before it’s over!” she yelled back.

“But that’s in like 45 seconds!”
 
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New York, New York, Wyckoff Farmhouse Museum, 7:37 pm: A lonely decaying farmhouse sits as a reminder of New York settlers, having closed around 1 pm this site was quiet and lonely as most nights, but tonight would bring a new and deadly experience for the old structure. Not long after halfway through the hour the ground began to quake with the museum as its epicenter, an earthquake of immense strength. The ground cracked as it shook, openings forming in the earth, the ground falling away as the fissures spread and stretched. Light posts, trees, even buildings toppling effortlessly from the power of the disaster. Devastation lasting only minutes, the effect was uncanny, as the aftermath not only brought most, if not all buildings within a mile to rubble, not only injuring and killing hundreds, or even thousands of residents in the area, but opening up a great, and seemingly bottomless pit where the building once stood, a perfect circle stretching over 1,000 ft in diameter. One would certainly consider calling such an event strange an understatement, however stranger still, the event is not isolated.

Washington D.C., Old Stone House, 7:37pm: The Old Stone House is the oldest unaltered structure in Washington D.C., according to Google, but as unchanged as it had been, it’s time had certainly come as an identical event to the New York pit happened not only on the same evening but at the same time. Circumstances of the formation of the pit, from the earthquake to the fissures and body count were nearly identical to that found in New York, only the size of the pit was such that the average skyscraper could be centered in the circular formation, leaving still a few feet of wiggle room on each side

Boston, Massachusetts, John F. Kennedy Presidential Library, 7:37 pm: The greatest of the holes worth noting opened up here, same evening, same time, however the devastation of this hole was arguably even greater as the hole itself spanned 4 miles across, causing devastation miles from the pit’s edge, strangely enough, although the ocean at the pit’s location was swallowed by the pit, the water surrounding the pit stands still, as if something is preventing it from flowing inside. These being the three most prominent locations for the RP, please note that several other pits have opened up at the same time not just around the country, but around the globe. Whatever is happening, the government has no deniability now, try as they may.
 
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It was dark, just past 7pm as Orson continued his search for a new place to charge, girl still in tow.

“I’ll just follow you until you see your friend again. That’ll work right? C’mon you could make this a whole lot easier for yourself.” She taunted.

You’re right, I could.

Orson turned down an alley, trying his best to pick up speed an outpace her. He had enough charge to begin the healing process, but it would take time without initiating its full functionality, which he felt would make him more conspicuous when he wanted. Hurricane had warned him about drawing attention to his arm, stating that the people here tended to fear what they didn’t yet understand, isolating it for study, and sometimes less pleasant methods of gathering information.

He made a few twists and turns but the girl didn’t have to speed up too much. He was at a wounded jog but the girl managed to keep up simply by speed-walking.

“Nice try Hobo Joe, but you’re not going to lose me that easy, I want that phone, like really bad.”

As he turned one corner he collided with an unknown figure, falling back onto his behind. Looking up he saw four men in loose pants, some wearing tight shirts, others wearing no shirt at all.
Each sporting an assortment of jewelry, bandannas, and other accessories that seemed to serve no practical function.

“Yo man, what the fuck? You wanna get cut or somethin’?”

The encounter with the men seemed to spook the girl. Good.

“Uh… I just remembered, I gotta get back to work…”

She tried to turn and leave, but the man orson had collided with reached out for her arm, gripping it tightly, and pulling a knife from his pocket.

“Nah girl, sit a while. We ain’t done here. Your pops wasn’t lookin’ where he was goin, and now I’ve gone and dropped my shades.”

With his knife holding hand, he took the sunglasses from his forehead and dropped them to the ground, proceeding to crush them under his untied shoe.

“Now you gotta pay me back, so what you got?”

Orson was wrong, it wasn’t good. It was the opposite of good, and this encounter was beginning to remind him of past encounters from his own life. He was angry.
He began to growl in frustration as he made tight fists.

“Yo man, I think we triggered the bum into some PTSD shit, what do you wanna do?”

Before the lead thug could give more directive, Orson’s clothing began to change shape, metal pins and plates making up the fabric, and his right arm, began to tumble their way along the outside of orson’s skin, quickly coating him entirely as the bio-metal shaped itself into a protective suit, some of the metal shifting to a glass-like plating.

“WHAT THE HELL MAN this is some ALIEN TYPE SHIT!”

Confused and afraid, they began to run, but before they could reach the end of the alley each of them received a sharp hot pain in the center of their backs, causing them to fall forward, dead.
The girl was speechless, and equally afraid, as Orson brought himself to his feet, feeling his suit’s healing becoming much more effective in its current state.

Still unsure what to do, and too afraid to run, the girl began to stammer. “Th-th-thank y-you…”

“For what?”

Orson began to raise his very alien looking gun-like hand toward the girl, when the ground beneath them began to shake.
 
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[div class=other]"87 missed calls?! What the..."
The phone began to buzz as it was held. Another incoming call from Aunt Olivia.[/div][div class=flex][div class=home][div class=call][/div][/div][/div][div class="normal hide"]"Hello?"

The person on the other end gasps before starting "You're there!? Are you hurt, why weren't you answering, I've been calling you since they got the cell towers working again, please say you're ok." She sounded raspy and higher-pitched than normal, like she had been, or wanted to cry.

"No, I'm fine; I was in the panic room, what happened?"

"There was a huge earthquake and a sinkhole opened up, I got stuck at the lab with most of the rest of my team. We haven't been able to get in contact with a lot of people. They're saying the roads are a wreck and some of the people in other labs are saying they saw tanks heading east over the bridge. Dr. Leskova thinks it could have been a bomb, some new tech he helped with last year. We saw some of the helicopter footage from last night, it's bad. A lot of the area is just...gone. The buildings around that were leveled, I think my house is gone I was worried you..." she choked on the words and there were sounds of other people talking, comforting her.

"Hey, I'm fine, whatever it was doesn't seem to have gotten this area. Your little bug is safe and sound."

"Haha, *sniffle* just make sure you stay that way, I'll come see you when I can, ok?"

"You'd better, who else is going to tell me to clean my room?"

"Hah, I might even help you this time. I've got to go, my phone is dying and they want to have a meeting. Love you, bug; see you soon."

"Alright, love you too. Stay safe." A small beep closed out the call.

Already exhausted for the day by the swell of emotions from the conversation, it was time for MushiHime to start her day.

She set bots to work searching the hidden web for anything about these holes while also watching some of the same helicopter footage and some security footage that got leaked. Seeing and watching the familiar Boston landscape change so radically and violently gave her chills. She checked her news spots, but none of them had any new information leaving no choice but to wait for the bots to finish. She picked up her phone, MushiHime's phone, not the one with 87 missed calls and sent a text to someone reliable who might be able to get firsthand knowledge of the holes.

"Hey c.w.,

Hope you're ok. I'm sure you already know about the hole that appeared in your backyard, looks like you might get to do some theory testing yourself. Let me know that you didn't get squished or fall in, or something. You're too smart to replace. But really, please be fine.

-MH~<3" The reply was immediate.

"WHAT!? That's what it was? I'm stuck in some train station on the border of nowhere!"

"I take it you are safe then. Good. I'll email what we have so far, you're lucky to have been a ways away from it, they haven't said how strong the earthquakes were, but there is a lot of fresh rubble."

"Oh, yeah I'm fine. Sorry. Got chased out of town at gunpoint last night so I'm being transferred to a different office. Maybe. But you didn't hear anything from me about it."

"Of course, how could I have? You never responded in the first place. MushiHime, out!~<3"

"Until next time."

And the hacker started the cleanup that would scrub the conversation from both devices and the network, before sending the e-mail.

Then they ate some cold pizza.
[div class="back hide"]>>Go back to phone[/div][/div]
 
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What the hell is going on?

Orson became distracted from his target as the shaking became worse, knocking Himself and Jessie from their feet.

“Oh my god this isn’t happening!” She squealed in a panic.

He could hear the sounds of stone, metal, glass, breaking scraping and crumbling at a distance, snapping, cracking, slamming, crying, screaming, the whole shebang. Even as bad as circumstances were in his past he hadn’t witnessed something like this.

Using the alley walls as a brace he brought himself to his feet despite the shaking, and turned toward the sounds behind him, his eyes widening in shock.

This… This is how it started… It worked… I’m here!

He braced himself and leaped forward toward and past Jessie, using tiny thrusters on the bottom of his feet to increase the height and distance of the jump, clearing the alleyway in just two “steps”, almost falling as he made the second stride.

His landing was hard, and again he would have fallen if he did not hug the nearby lamp post. He then used a more powerful thrust to send himself upward, grasping the light fixture of the post and tearing it away, placing his hand into the fixture and manipulating the suit so that it could access and drain the electricity from inside the post.

Unfortunately, the power in the area got knocked out by the quake, but not before he got a full charge from the connected network of street lights, and he held on tightly to the post as eventually the quaking ended.

Now disregarding his prior desire for stealth, he climbed up to balance himself upon the post, looking toward the devastation, and seeing his suspicions confirmed: a gigantic hole had opened up beyond the wreckage.

“Bingo.”

He leaped from the post, activating his thrusters again, but this time with a less powerful output. Hovering just a few inches over the pavement he would have otherwise landed on, he took off at great speed, seeming to skate on the air itself as he whipped through the streets like some wanna be gang hoolagain from a Ninja Turtles movie.

He wove himself in, around, and through traffic, hopping over the occasional obstacle he was unable to avoid, stopping only when he reached the edge of the hole.

He took a moment to double check his power as he muttered to himself.

“Well friend, See you soon… I hope…”

He looked into the hole, knowing his purpose, but strangely he hesitated, looking back toward the mangled city behind him.

“What am I doing… this might not even be the right one…”

Ultimately he decided to wait, choosing to re-form his suit back to his previous disguise, he moved several yards away, seating himself on some rubble nearby.

As he waited, and watched, he heard a strangely familiar sound coming from above, and as he looked, he saw aircrafts bearing a vague resemblance to his friend closing in on the location.

“What the hell… Hurricane???”

He also heard other, less familiar sounds, quickly turning his head back and forth between the somewhat familiar aircrafts, and the several unrecognized ground vehicles that were approaching, what he would later find out were a mixture of military, law enforcement, and emergency response vehicles.

At first he was confused, but then it dawned on him, these must be the same units that Hurc had described when he had told Orson about his imprisonment.

One of the vehicles first to arrive, a military jeep with strangely dressed men hanging off of it, spotted him, and began to approach.

“Sir are you alright?” one of them asked.

Orson was even more confused, they seemed much less hostile than Hurricane had described them to be. Then again, Hurc didn’t exactly fit in when he was discovered either.

“Uh… Yeah, I’m fine…”

“Sir did you witness what happened here?”

The men from the vehicle gathered around him as others, and even more vehicles showed up, and began investigating the scene, even clearing a space for some of the aircrafts to land.

“Uh… Yeah sort of. Why, didn’t you? Seems like some of you should have had a pretty good view…”

He responded as he glanced again at the aircraft.

“Sir, do you have any injuries? Do you mind telling us what you saw?”

One of the men, most likely a medic, kneeled next to him and began giving him simple instructions while flashing a small light into his eye, pretty annoying actually, but he didn’t wish to cause trouble or get captured like his pal had in his first encounter with them.

“I’m fine, and all that happened was the ground shook and shit caved in.”

“Alright, sit tight OK? We’re going to look for other survivors, then you’ll be escorted somewhere safe. Hanson, look after him for now, I’ll send someone to relieve you once we have orders on how to proceed.”

The majority of the men walked away, even they seemed a little shaken up by the incident. He got a strange feeling that this interaction wasn’t how things normally went, and as he observed, and waited, he got an even stronger feeling that they felt he shouldn’t be here.

Their behaviors and mannerisms, their reactions to the people giving directions, and their activities all made him quite uncomfortable. They didn’t even seem to be looking for survivors, as the man interacting with him previously stated, they seemed much more interested in taking pictures and looking around at the scene’s outer appearance.

“Excuse me, Hanson right? I thought he was looking for more survivors… what are they doing?”

“We are looking for survivors sir, well, not everyone obviously but those qualified are… don’t worry, you’ll be safe soon.”

Nope, still didn’t like them, still didn’t trust them.

“Okay, well I’m going over here for now.”

He said, eyeing one of the nearby aircrafts.

“Sir I’d rather you didn’t, just stay put.”

As he went to stand, Hanson placed his hand on his shoulder and attempted to push him back into a seated position.

Nope.

Orson grabbed his wrist with his left hand, and punched his throat with his right, causing the soldier to recoil, grabbing his throat and choking a little as he attempted to pull his a handgun with his other hand.

Orson began to shape his fingers into a small blade, approaching him quickly and shoving them into his eye sockets before he could finish recovering, holding him upright and hoping to avoid suspicion.

Really? No?

As he looked around it seemed everyone was adequately distracted by the scene, or perhaps they had forgotten he was there, since it seemed there were no other survivors.

He let the man drop onto the ground and proceeded toward the rotary bladed aircraft.

“Hurricane?” he asked cautiously.

“No man, it was an earthquake. Hurricanes are like big rain and wind storms.”

“Oh sorry… Hurc never mentioned there could be more of you. He said he was the only survivor.”

“Man what the hell are you talkin’ about?” unexpectedly, another military dressed man came crawling out of the inside of the craft toward him.

“Wait, who the fuck are you?”

“Wait that was you talking?” Orson responded confused.

“Man who the fuck else-holy shit Hanson! Get on the ground man!” this man, having caught Orson very much off guard, was more successful in drawing his weapon.

“Get the fuck on the ground!”

Having no good options, Orson slowly began to do as he was told.

“Unit 17? Hanson down man. I don’t know what you were thinking but some crazy old vet lookin’ mother fucker killed him. Orders?”

Once he reached a crouched position, but before he was fully on the ground, lashed out, reaching for the man’s rifle.

The gun fired off several rounds as he wrestled with the user, which drew a great deal of attention. Having greater control of the struggle than the soldier, Orson slammed the gun into his face several times, slamming him against the side of the vehicle and yanking the weapon from him. He tossed it aside and began to run, allowing his suit to form once again.

He ran and dove behind some of the rubble, wedging himself into the wreckage and willing his suit to color itself in the manner of his surroundings in a chameleon-like defense.
The closest pursuing soldiers stopped in the area, looking around, shouting for him, and others followed, but ultimately the search was given up within the hour, more pressing matters to tend to apparently.

He slowly and quietly moved to a better position, continuing to watch and wait for a number of hours before finally slipping away unnoticed.

Unknown to Orson Reporters would later arrive on scene attempting to retrieve information of the event from the military, as well as the emergency responders.
The information they will have been given will depict their encounter with Orson as a possible terrorist attack, pinning him as a major suspect and lead in explaining the events of the disaster.
Speculation of a new, unknown, organized terrorist group, looming threat, and more supernatural implications would grow as worried citizens and overzealous news reporters and authors added their own opinions, suspicions, and assumptions to what would ultimately be an inappropriately broadcasted game of telephone.
 
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Ashley watched as the texts disappeared from her screen one by one until only a normal conversation was left. She slid the phone into her pocket and stood to stretch as Jake walked over to her.

"It looks like I'm not coming with you past here. Just wanted to say it's been fun." He held out his hand.

"So it has been. Well, what are they going to do with you now?" She shook the offered hand.

"I suppose I'll have to find out when I get back to the head office... You're not even going to ask where you're going, are you?"

"I'll find out sooner or later if I wait; but it looks like you were leaving, who knows if anyone else could have answered me."

"Right, always that kind of investigating. Take care of yourself, Ash." He turned to the stairs and starting walking out. He paused at the second step and turned to look at her again, "That way of thinking is what got you where you're going, make sure it is where you want to be."

His expression was uncharacteristically grim, it made a bad feeling well up in her. He started back up the stairs. "You take care of yourself too, I'm going to need someone to have a drink with at the end of all this."

If he responded then Ashley didn't hear it over the loud hiss of a vacuum seal breaking behind her. She looked to see the platform door opening and a young man in a dark blue suit stepping out. He gestured for her to go through the door he had just come from. "Right this way, Miss Nilpine."

She gave one last look to the stairs, Jake was already out of sight, she turned back to the door in time to see the man in blue also looking up the stairs. She went to the door and the bright lights in the interior made her pause. The man put a hand on her shoulder and nudged her to get her to keep moving. "Please, time is short."

She stepped aboard the train car, "Right, sorry. I just expected a normal subway--" the click clack of dress shoes on tile interrupted her explanation. The man in blue was running up the stairs and as the door closed the now familiar sound of muted pistol fire echoed in the small underground platform.

Ashley tried to pry the door back open and failed, she quickly looked over the train car and saw dark wood panels instead of the regular steel walls and floor. No windows but bright fluorescent lights ran the length of the ceiling. She was on one end of the car and a heavy looking wooden desk with 2 similarly heavy looking chairs were at the other end. She tried the door again when a deep voice interrupted her, "Please, have a seat Miss Nilpine, I'd like to get moving."

She froze for a moment as the voice had come from the direction of the empty seats, when she turned to look a tall balding man in a crisp black suit with black gloves and a hooked nose was holding an open palm to the empty seat on the opposite side of the desk from himself. "Where did you come from? That seat was just empty." She leaned against the back wall of the car as far from him as possible.

"Aha, I had dropped my favorite pen when the capsule stopped. If you could join me so we can get on our way?" He spun a thick pen around his fingers stopping it in a wand grip pointed at the still empty chair, a Cheshire-like grin on his face. "I can answer your questions once you sit down, Ashley."

She slowly made her way to the seat keeping her eyes on him the whole time. "Excellent, my name is Director Calvin Hodgeson Sr, and you, Miss Ashley Nilpine, have questions I'm sure. We have 20 minutes before the capsule reaches its destination, then we both have work to do." He pressed a button on the desk and Ashley felt like she was being launched by a slingshot.

"You can see why I wanted you to sit down now, we are going between 720 and 780 miles per hour for the next 20 minutes. Please ask your questions."

"What happened to Jake, agent Mathers?"

"He was getting his next orders from my agent, if you are wondering about the gun fire then I'm not sure, but the two of you were followed. Likely he or the other agent opened the bio-metrics door and had to defend himself."

"What's in New York? Why are we going there?"

"You calculated? Goodness, you are quick. My office and the majority of my organization's activities occur there."

"What organization? Aren't you with the government?"

"You'll find out the name soon enough, and we are with the government, yes."

"What does your organization do?"

"We are bureaucrats and diplomats with a smattering of investigators to help keep the peace and keep everyone honest."

"You said I'll have work to do there too, what were you going to have me do?"

"I think you already know, but I will confirm it for you: you will be investigating an incident with us. We would of course be asking for your cooperation, not demanding it."

"Why me? What can I possibly offer that your people don't already have?"

"Don't sell yourself short, you've a faster mind than some of our specialists and you already know how to gather information. Further, this arrangement allows you much more freedom as well as giving us a field agent back."

"So, I was a drain on your manpower and now you want to get a return on that investment?"

"See? You're very quick, you had the investment part right, but not the drain. You were still working with us in a lesser capacity over the past months. Which I suppose I should say, you've already aced the entrance exam to join our little club even if you didn't know you were taking it."

"Hodgeson...you were FBI, what changed?"

"That was quite the shift, I found a better fit for my talents. Were you really asking all that while also trying to remember my name from somewhere? Oh, which case?"

"USNM-99J2A7-0012.UAAV.4A."

"Erm, you'll have to give me a reminder, I can't remember every case and incident number. Especially if they are nearly 20 years old."

"New Mexico, July 17th, 1999; a truck accident on 308. You reported it--" An angry edge had crept into her voice.

"As driver error, yes. We had evidence that the man driving the old sedan suffered a stroke while driving and crossed the lines into oncoming traffic, striking a loaded semi-truck. I believe it was the 2 drivers and 2 passengers--"

"3 passengers." She stewed in silent palpable fury.

"My mistake, I take it the case is close to you?"

"You could say that. It is how I lost my sister and broke my nose."

"Ah, 2 surviving passengers then. My condolences, the names of you children were never released to us, or to the public. If you'd like I can have the file pulled so you can look over our notes on it?"

"I want to know why what really happened was covered up, I've read the file and seen the notes, that's why I remember your name. You were a secondary investigator brought on in September of '99, so I don't think you were directly covering it, but you should know who the other investigator is and I'm sure you saw their notes and my old testimony. What was being covered?"

"I'm afraid I don't know that, but I can have it looked into and if possible talk to the lead agent--"

"They died in 2001. 9/11. You are the only other survivor that might know what happened, though you were listed as deceased as of 2009."

"...I see. Have I mentioned how skilled you are at gathering information? So, you obviously know some of the public record has been...fudged a bit. That brings me to another topic, but should you accept joining our organization you will also be 'deceased' as far as the public is concerned. It is part of the job, you understand."

"Does that mean agent Jerimiah Polston could also still be alive?"

"It's very unlikely. The attacks on 9/11 were not faked and, as far as I know, not used as cover for special agents' reassignments out of respect for those actually lost. But I didn't get to join the secret operations until 8 years later, so it may not be information I would be privy to."

"Fine," she huffed.

"Hmm? What's fine now?"

"You didn't seem to be lying, I believe you." The venom leaving her voice.

"Ah. Is there anything else?"

"If I am 'deceased' what level of contact do I maintain with my family?"

"None, you would be leaving them behind for this."

"So, you left your son behind then?"

"No, but he is something of a special circumstance. He was born after I was already here. It's a bit complicated."

"What about an online presence? Say an e-mail address not under my own name?"

"You're asking to be able to stay in contact with MushiHime, I presume?" He held a hand up to stop her as she opened her mouth. "Yes, we know about her and her contact with you. No, we don't have any idea who she is. Thus far she has been very helpful since she became active again in 2006, so we are content to let her be for now, even if she has been on our systems without leaving so much as a hint of a trace."

"Active again? I've read that the user name has been in use since the days of ARPANET. When was she not around?"

"From late 2000 to mid-2006 she was at her lowest activity level. And the user name wasn't always the same, but they have always publicly announced all name changes, even back on ARPANET. We speculate that 'she' is actually several people over the years, as it is hard to imagine someone who would have had to have been a grad student or professor in the 70's still being active and up to date on all the latest software. If it is a single person then they are probably going to be gone soon since they'd pretty easily be between 70 and 120."

"Hmm, unless you believe the story on her fan site, that she's is some alien computer virus."

"I have a number of issues with that story, the least of which being that an alien virus got onto the ARPANET in the first place."

"Not that an alien virus exists in the first place?"

"That would be higher on the list."

"Would be...Would be if aliens didn't exist?"

"...Interesting. But, no. The virus existing would be a larger problem than it infecting a directly wired network with no centralized hub."

"Mmm, not buying it. You hesitated, and something seems off now, you're hiding it. You know about aliens. The government knows about aliens." She gasped, "You're MIB!"

His eyebrows shot up his forehead at that. "You've heard of our organization!? How? When?"

"The Men in Black? There was movie about it in the mid 90's? Ugh, don't tell me Roswell really did have an alien crash landing."

"Oh, that. Funny that the acronym lined up. My MIB is the Ministry of Intergalactic-dimensional Bureaucracy. And sorry, but Roswell was 100% real. What kind of weather balloon would have J-12 gamma thrusters?" He chuckled to himself.

"Whuh-buh-mm." Ashley blacked out.

"Umm, are you ok? Hello? Oops. You are too smart for your own good. Perfect."
 
[class=start]background:black;background-size:cover;color:grey;border:4px #cccccc solid;padding:4px;height:230px;overflow-Y:scroll[/class] [class=rest][/class] [class=back]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=title]background:#cccccc;background-size:cover;color:black;[/class] [class=FBI][/class] [class=CIA][/class] [class=KGB][/class] [class=DoD][/class] [class=MIB][/class] [class=HF][/class] [class=pub][/class] [class=FBIa]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=CIAa]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=KGBa]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=DoDa]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=MIBa]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=HFa]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=puba]cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=hide]display:none;[/class] [class=exit]cursor:pointer;[/class] [script class=FBIa on=click] removeClass hide FBI addClass hide CIA addClass hide KGB addClass hide DoD addClass hide HF addClass hide pub addClass hide MIB [/script] [script class=CIAa on=click] removeClass hide CIA addClass hide FBI addClass hide KGB addClass hide DoD addClass hide HF addClass hide pub addClass hide MIB [/script] [script class=KGBa on=click] removeClass hide KGB addClass hide CIA addClass hide FBI addClass hide DoD addClass hide HF addClass hide pub addClass hide MIB [/script] [script class=DoDa on=click] removeClass hide DoD addClass hide CIA addClass hide KGB addClass hide FBI addClass hide HF addClass hide pub addClass hide MIB [/script] [script class=MIBa on=click] removeClass hide MIB addClass hide CIA addClass hide KGB addClass hide FBI addClass hide HF addClass hide pub addClass hide DoD [/script] [script class=HFa on=click] removeClass hide HF addClass hide CIA addClass hide KGB addClass hide DoD addClass hide FBI addClass hide pub addClass hide MIB [/script] [script class=puba on=click] removeClass hide pub addClass hide CIA addClass hide KGB addClass hide DoD addClass hide HF addClass hide FBI addClass hide MIB [/script] [script class=exit on=click] addClass hide start addClass hide title addClass hide exit removeClass hide rest removeClass hide back [/script] [script class=back on=click] addClass hide rest addClass hide back removeClass hide start removeClass hide title removeClass hide exit [/script] [div class=title]MushiHime's Bot Report #0076091247[/div][div class=start]
[div class=FBIa]FBI[/div][div class=CIAa]CIA[/div][div class=KGBa]KGB[/div][div class=CIAa]MI6[/div][div class=DoDa]DoD[/div][div class=MIBa]MIB[/div][div class=HFa]Heph/Faus[/div][div class=puba]Public[/div]
[div class="FBI hide"]Locations and sizes of Unidentified Holes(Last updated 2018-04-05-093042). Suspected connection to Project Hurricane, see project file for details. European exploration has resulted in loss of recon teams, no further manned exploration planned.[/div][div class="CIA hide"]No new data.[/div][div class="KGB hide"]Drone tests failed due to loss of signal. Cabled cameras experiencing heavy interference to audio visual record. Manned intelligence team lost due to equipment failure, suspected hostile entity/entities in pit #E023. Nuclear testing scheduled for 5-04-18 at 1900 local time(7:00 p.m. MSK, 12:00 p.m. EDT).[/div][div class="DoD hide"]Special After Action Report

30,589 confirmed dead; 2,936,837 missing, presumed dead. Average earthquake intensity: 7.4 on the Richter scale from available data. Average estimated damage per affected city: ~$14b.

Investigative specialists were unable to find anything on scene that may have caused these incidents, areas have been put into quarantine per Ch. 18 Sect. 4. Full hazmat protocol in effect until further notice in quarantined areas.

New York team attacked by only survivor on site(photo). Described as a Caucasian man in his late 20's to late 30's with extensive scarring on visible skin, brown hair with gray streaks, ragged clothes, possibly homeless. No visible injuries or trauma, attacked and killed escort with concealed weapons and attempted to board evacuation helicopter. Fought off by pilot after light injury to both parties, fled to collapsed building and was unable to be located again, possibly escaped via sewer network. Potential Case 50. Suspect matches figure spotted heading towards LZ/GZ during incident. Confirm with Director H or P of Ministry.

Initial public report to be act of terrorism by unknown group. No further details at this time.

B. General Reynold Meyers
_____

Internal e-mail #32897276239104

Fr: Mattis, James

To: MinistryDirector H; MinistryDirector P

Sub: [blank]

Directors,

We have a possible Case-50(photo). Is he one of yours?[/div][div class="MIB hide"]Update: Agent assignments

E&K - continue on-going suppression efforts, assist T&I with investigation if possible/needed.

T&I - investigate new Case-50 in NYC area. T: I will be lacking training, support and guide where needed; report hourly.

B&Q - begin suppression of new Case-50 as you see fit. Full authorization.

All other agents - no change in assignments.

[Bot Conjecture]: Based on above data, Agent I has been reactivated & reassigned after 47 month hiatus. [End of conjecture]
_____

Internal e-mail #32897276239112

Fr: Ministry Director H

To: Mattis, James

Sub: Re:

Mr. Secretary,

He is not one of ours, agents have been dispatched for investigation & cleanup.

-Dir. H[/div][div class="pub hide"]Playlist of publicly available videos matching query within the outlined timeline

Summary of eyewitness accounts gathered across specified sites:

-Large earthquake began[matches secured data]
-Large structures began to structurally fail[matches secure data]
-Holes began to expand in the ground, perfectly round[matches secure data]
-Man in strange suit leaping/flying through/over traffic moving towards New York hole[matches secure data]
-Strange lights in sky, similar to "Northern Lights"[unverified/unreported][associated accounts have not responded to automated verification request message yet]
-Suspicious men in black suits with sunglasses seen in area earlier in day where otherwise would not be common(cornfield, forest, marina, etc.)[unverified/unreported][associated accounts have not responded to automated verification request message yet][/div][div class="HF hide"]Faustus: [Unable to locate/penetrate systems] Sorry master!

Hephaestus:
-35 requests for "new bomb","hole bomb", "hole-tech", "worm hole generator", etc.
-Public posting from admins saying it was not their tech on display, stop asking for it.[/div]
[/div][div class="rest hide"]Always Project Hurricane! Where do they keep the files? Even the records of government support for GM and their petrolium powered cars over the fully electric models that predated them got converted to digital! And that was 100 years ago! It seems the holes are dangerous even for trained people, there has to be more than just signal interference.

Nothing new from most of the international agencies, I suppose that's not surprising. I'll be interested to see what the nuclear testing tells us. Then thinking further, I hope the holes aren't connected somehow, that could turn out really badly. Wait, hostile entities? Some kind of weird invasion or attack? That wouldn't be the case if this was terrorism, right? It would have to be aliens or something.

"Almost 3 million dead..." they paused after reading the casualty count. We need to figure this out and stop it before there are any more deaths. I'll have to ask Dr. Leskova what he thinks this is, and who that man in New York might be. Hopefully he knows something.

The Ministry doesn't know and even brought the supposed ace investigator agent out of retirement to help find out. I'll have to keep an open line on them in case they find anything. And if I remember right Case-50s are supposed to be extra-terrestrials, very interesting. A storm of clicks and keystrokes punctuated the thought.

If it wasn't Hephaestus tech then I doubt it was terrorists, not run-of-the-mill ones anyways. Whoever Dr. Leskova was working for would have to be the ones if it was a bomb at all. Mentally crossing out the black market tech dealer, Hephaestus, and their sister company supposedly dealing in magic, Faustus; the hacker moved on.

I'll have to set another search for those black suits these people were talking about. Later, for now it is time to watch some of the videos to see if there is anything to notice.
*****
Why must everyone film vertically?! Stupid cell phones. At least I managed to use street names to get security footage tracking that guy. He had a girl follow him out of a coffee shop and they go off-camera just before it happens, he goes towards the hole almost immediately and she flees the other way back towards the coffee shop after a small delay. Power went out so most of the cameras shut off too after it started, couldn't track her very far that way.

Her name badge said "Jessie" and employee records show Jessica Thurgood and Jessie Sinclair both 20, Thurgood is a fashion student and Sinclair an acting student. Student IDs are similar enough that it could have been either of them. I'll just have to email both of them. It took a few moments to compress the video and upload to a few hosts before emailing both girls with links and questions.

Just as she finished that an alert popped up on one of her monitors with a video feed, clicking over to it showed 2 men in military fatigues and armored vests walking to the front door and talking to each other, one tall and somewhat overweight was sweating a fair bit, the other was short for a man but it looked like he had a fair bit of muscle. The smaller one had a holstered pistol strapped to his leg. They rang the doorbell and knocked once at the door calling out: "National Guard, is there anyone in the building?"

Shit. They might want to look around. MushiHime put the alarm code in to prevent the buzzers from going off before heading into the safe room and sending a video page to the front door.

"Just me, no injuries."

"Fancy, do we hit something to respond or just talk?" The shorter man asked while inspecting the paging system panel, finger extended ready to hit one of the buttons.

"You just talk, you're a bit close to the camera leaning in like that though."

"Ah, alright," he straightened up. "Were your parents not home?"

"No, Dad was here in his urn the whole time. He doesn't get out much anymore, and Mom has never been here. This is my house," an icy glare punctuating the statement.

"Oh! Sorry, you just look, uh--"

"Like a kid, I know. Are we done here?"

"Dang, Sarge, ya sure know how ta make 'em mad. Sorry, 'bout that. If it's not a bother could we git ya out front here for a quick medical exam, I'm a medic." The larger man spoke up before his partner put his feet further in his mouth.

"Am I allowed to decline?"

"O' course. We can't make ya come out."

"Then I'll pass, is there anything else?"

"That'll be all, stay safe here. Oh! There might be a mandatory evacuation for those close ta the holes, y'all are probably fine here but we gotta tell ya."

"I'm really sorry about that earlier too. I--"

"It's fine. Thanks for the heads up. You guys stay safe too, it can't be an easy time for you."

"Right, sorry."

"C'mon, Sarge, we got people to--" The audio cut out as the page ended.

"Heh. Haha. Oh. Ugh, I'll bet some psychologist would love to tell me how crazy I am. Of course they were here as part of disaster response she's not that important. I'm not." The hacker sighed.

I wonder how my neighbors are, it's been unusually quiet. The cameras spun around to face outward at a command. "Whoa."

The old housing development had been nearly leveled by the earthquake. The roads were cracked and split too. A large military truck, 2 white buses, and 3 military jeeps with red crosses were at various points along the road. There were people all around, some boarding the buses, other talking to military personnel, more helping clear rubble to find those trapped or worse.

I guess the reinforcements we put in the house were worthwhile after all. Probably best not to think too much about that. The cameras were returned to their normal position.

The hacker went back to their "battle station" and sent out another set of bots to scour security footage. Then they started an email.

c.w.,

Got some more info you might want to see if you're on the case. Let me know if you can use anything else or if you hit a block I can help with.

Good luck~!

<3 M.H.
[9 documents, 7 pictures, 2 videos attached]

"And sent. Now for food and a shower." Then maybe going to talk to Dr. Leskova. Maybe.

What should I eat? I doubt I can have a pizza delivered right now. Waffles?[/div]
[div class=exit]>>exit results[/div][div class="back hide"]>>back to results[/div]
 
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Orson walked slowly, contemplatively through the mangled New York streets, unsure exactly how to proceed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! You should have just went into the hole and worried about right or wrong later. I wish Hurc was here… I could ask him what I should do…

Orson looked into a large mirrored shard nearby, noting the cancerous look of the balding 60 something year old lady he had set his suit to disguise himself as and shook his head.

Seems about how I feel right now. he thought, continuing his uncertain path down the battered sidewalk.

I never expected so many uniformed soldiers, let alone so many different types… I wonder what each of those uniforms mean? Are they from different armies? Hurricane never
said much about how military worked, and only ever talked about his own unit and the men that held him captive, both being sore subjects for him.

Orson stopped for a moment and stared to wonder if he’d even be able to find out where to start. He might even have to make a bee line right for the hole again and dive in, he doubted they’d follow him inside, but even if they did it’s not like they’d be able to pursue him. Then again if they hadn’t effected any of the people yet he probably shouldn’t create a scenario where he might cause that to happen.

He decided that once he did move on to entering a hole, it would be best to use his cloaking device again instead of rush in like a missile. Fortune favors the cautious in this case he supposed.

Maybe I should focus on finding out what happened to Hurricane… he should be able to give me some idea of where to start.

He was lost, he had no idea how to even start. Would he be forced to eavesdrop on random conversations until he heard rumors? Would this be how Hurricane was captured in the first place?
Should he try to infiltrate the Military units to find out where he was being kept if so? What if he infiltrated the wrong one if he did?

As he was asking himself these questions his foot landed on a soft black and white tile of paper and ink, he bent down and picked it up to examine it, reading it, and discovering that this paper had information on yesterday’s activities from various places in the area!

So they do have ways of sharing information with each other! This is splendid, now I just have to find out where to go to get the information that I need.

He then spent some amount of time using his suit to make various disguises as he gathered the information from the people around him. Doing this, he found that the New York area is quite large, larger than settlements he was used to, and that there were many newspaper companies both inside and outside the affected areas of the quake.

He also found out that there was something called the “internet”, and that having access to this internet would give him access to essentially any news that might be documented on theses newspapers. This sounded like the most ideal way to proceed.

In addition, he recalled that Hurricane said that the soldiers would hide information for their public’s protection, so he then wondered if this internet place was a secure facility.

It’s decided then. I’ll need to pose as these soldiers for a few days or more until I can find out which one of their uniforms gives access to this internet facility.

He decided he would start by imitating the most abundant type of uniform he’d seen, and move on to the next most abundant, all the way to the least abundant if necessary, until he heard anyone receiving orders to report to the internet, and he would then follow those soldiers and gain access.

Without hesitation, he began his new mission, planning to frequently change his hair and face as not to be found suspicious.
 



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Re: New York Terrorist
Reply | v​
MushiHime
Today, 9:43 AM
To: Keenan Murphy (OfficerScruffyMcGruffy@totallyalegitemail.com)


0% fake. Only video manipulation was from me sticking them together and blurring the girl's face. And I keep telling you to stop calling me a geek. I am an alien entity inhabiting your planet's electronic communications, as such your societal standards do not apply to me. Also, good luck finding the guy it looks like his suit has optical camoflage or something like it. And stay safe, he killed a soldier amd injured another without much apparent effort. Have what I've found so far~! <3
attachement-512.png


[45 documents, 32 pictures attached]

From: Keenan Murphy <OfficerScruffyMcGruffy@totallyalegitemail.com>
Sent: Today, 9:15 AM
To: MushiHime
Subject: New York Terrorist


Hey Supergeek, got a look at the terrorist's video and saw you put the clips together, decided to go after the fucker. Figured you would be the best contact for this considering they got some weapons we ain't never heard of. How likely do you think it is that these videos were photoshopped? get back to me when you can - Keenan Murphy.


"About Time..." Keenan Muttered to himself.

Keenan decided to wait to reply again, and opted instead to look out the small window near him. He had been on the plane only a few minutes, but he was already restless, mostly due to the looming threat of terrorism on home soil.

He had thought that with all the security increases and precautions set in place after 9/11 that things like this couldn't happen anymore, apparently he was wrong. He had gone to the station first thing after seeing the news article to see if they had any information on the situation, but all they could show him was a series of satellite and cellphone videos artistically clipped together to show the terrorist traveling via a strange space-suit looking costume of some kind.

Furthermore, he noticed that the source of the video was an old... friend... of his. MishiHime, a hacker for the greater good who claimed to be some sort of space alien infection on earth's technology, or something like that. Keenan was an amazing detective, and damn good at solving his client's problems, but he didn't really understand all the toys kids were tinkering around with these days.

He first "met" MushiHime many years ago, a good deal before his retirement, and her work was certainly impressive. He may not have been the cleanest member of the force, but he always had good intentions behind everything he did, and even as many privacy and security laws and shit that the hacker broke, as far as he knew everything she did was the same way.

The case was an investigation on a corrupt politician, and damn if he wasn't great at covering shit up. Keenan was the lead investigator on the case at the time, and although he had found plenty of information and had a few eyewitnesses, most of it came from sources he shouldn't have had access to, and none of it was really usable in court. In other words, he knew the guy was a scumbag, but his team was having a hell of a time proving anything.

Then out of nowhere, just as Keenan thought he was getting close to a lead good enough to use in court, this MushiHime figure comes out of nowhere and sends crap all over the internet, causing a public uproar and not only leading to him being forced from office, but also his incarceration.

It's funny, if a cop gets evidence illegally, he can't do shit with it, but some lone ranger of the web rides in guns blazing, and pastes that shit all over youtube or whatever, and everyone hangs the fucker.

Since then he'd reached out to her publicly known email from time to time to try to get a new angle or easy evidence or leads regarding various cases in the future, and she was damn good at finding things he could use. Even set him up with a fake FBI badge and matching home state ID to go with it so he could get around all the red tape when working his P.I. jobs.

This was different though, this wasn't about a paycheck, it was about keeping Americans safe. Well, that said maybe it wasn't so different after all. Ever since Cleo forced him to retire he's had to work private jobs with varying degrees of legitimacy just to keep the bills payed, and honestly taking this trip was a bit of a financial risk in itself, but he knew he had to help, it was a matter of principal, and maybe in the back of his mind somewhere, or deep in his heart it was sort of a last hurrah for him.

It was no secret that Keenan was getting on in the years, but whatever his motivation there was no turning back now, he'd already borded the plane. Besides, sometimes in times like these, we need someone willing to cross the line.

As the plane landed Keenan went straight for the nearest library, he decided he would look at all of these attachments the nerd had sent and make sure he had as much information as he could before getting access to the scene and taking a first hand look. Time was money when it came to catching someone like this, but knowledge was power, and he wanted to make sure he was hitting heavy before he stepped up to the plate.

As he got to the library he pecked away at the keyboard and brought his email up again, typing his next reply.




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To MushiHime


Re: New York Terrorist


From: Keenan Murphy <OfficerScruffyMcGruffy@totallyalegitemail.com>
Sent: Today, 1:49 PM
To: MushiHime
Subject: New York Terrorist


I don't believe in aliens. An outfit with that sort of super spy gobbledy goop has gotta be something you can hack right? can't you track him down or virus his costume or something? - Murphy


From: MushiHime
Sent: Today, 9:43 AM
To: Keenan Murphy
Subject: New York Terrorist


0% fake. Only video manipulation was from me sticking them together and blurring the girl's face. And I keep telling you to stop calling me a geek. I am an alien entity inhabiting your planet's electronic communications, as such your societal standards do not apply to me. Also, good luck finding the guy it looks like his suit has optical camouflage or something like it. And stay safe, he killed a soldier and injured another without much apparent effort. Have what I've found so far~! <3
attachement-512.png


[45 documents, 32 pictures attached]

From: Keenan Murphy <OfficerScruffyMcGruffytotallyalegitemail.com>
Sent: Today, 9:15 AM
To: MushiHime
Subject: New York Terrorist


Hey Supergeek, got a look at the terrorist's video and saw you put the clips together, decided to go after the fucker. Figured you would be the best contact for this considering they got some weapons we ain't never heard of. How likely do you think it is that these videos were photoshopped? get back to me when you can - Keenan Murphy.


Send >




After sending his reply he began combing through the load of files and various attachments she supplied in the email, scrutinizing each one as well as he could, as well as printing the ones he found the most important to have handy, filing them away and continuing his reading. As time went on he almost forgot to check back in on the email, but managed to do so well before he was finished going through the data.



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Re: New York Terrorist
Reply| v​
MushiHime
Today, 2:34 PM
To: Keenan Murphy (OfficerScruffyMcGruffy@totallyalegitemail.com)

I can hack it if he connects the suit to the internet or a cellphone, but so far scans aren't picking it up for infiltration. And you should believe in aliens, I have government documentation and very trustworthy anecdotal evidence.

From: Keenan Murphy <OfficerScruffyMcGruffy@totallyalegitemail.com>
Sent: Today, 1:49 PM
To: MushiHime
Subject: New York Terrorist

I don't believe in aliens. An outfit with that sort of super spy gobbledy goop has gotta be something you can hack right? can't you track him down or virus his costume or something? - Murphy

From: MushiHime
Sent: Today, 9:43 AM
To: Keenan Murphy
Subject: New York Terrorist


0% fake. Only video manipulation was from me sticking them together and blurring the girl's face. And I keep telling you to stop calling me a geek. I am an alien entity inhabiting your planet's electronic communications, as such your societal standards do not apply to me. Also, good luck finding the guy it looks like his suit has optical camouflage or something like it. And stay safe, he killed a soldier and injured another without much apparent effort. Have what I've found so far~! <3
attachement-512.png


[45 documents, 32 pictures attached]

From: Keenan Murphy <OfficerScruffyMcGruffy@totallyalegitemail.com>
Sent: Today, 9:15 AM
To: MushiHime
Subject: New York Terrorist


Hey Supergeek, got a look at the terrorist's video and saw you put the clips together, decided to go after the fucker. Figured you would be the best contact for this considering they got some weapons we ain't never heard of. How likely do you think it is that these videos were photoshopped? get back to me when you can - Keenan Murphy.


"Ha. Sure you do kid. Sure you do."

He finished up with the files that she sent him, opting not to reply back this time, figuring he could always thank her in the next email he sent, where he would likely ask for more favors. It was strange, trusting people was never his strong suit, but for some reason he could trust this Hacker, someone he'd never really met. Then again, for someone who easily could, she'd never done anything to give him a reason not to trust her, unlike the majority of the human populace.

He hailed a cab and informed them of his destination, which didn't sit well with the driver, so he flashed his FBI badge and threatened to detain him for impeding an investigation if he didn't do as he was asked, which worked well. Some might find that method a little harsh, but hey, it also saved him some cab fare so that's a plus.

He walked over to the security officers and gave them the same song and dance.

"Special Agent Wallace McGregor here to help with the scene. You mind?"

He was right about knowledge being his best weapon here, the sattilite images and government files gave him plenty to work with in terms of beginning his investigation, but even with that edge he came up short when just looking around, so he decided to start asking around, starting with folks that wouldn't be able to run his credentials if they thought he would ask the wrong questions.

Turned out the pilot who had been injured happened to be present, apparently his injuries weren't too serious.

"Yeah I don't know man, He just seemed like some homeless vet or something. No accent either, whoever this guy was he was definitely raised in America. What do you think?"

He opted not to really answer the pilot, he hadn't really learned much more than he had from the information MushiHime gave him, maybe he should just hang around a bit and see if things got interesting. You know what they say, the perp always returns to the scene of the crime. In any case there was no footage of him leaving the area, so it was very possible that he was still around, lurking in the shadows.
 
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It is bright in here, strangely familiar. Someone is talking nearby, not a familiar voice.

Ashley tried to focus on what they were saying and found she didn't know the language they were speaking. It sounded harsh, eastern european probably. She couldn't turn to look at the speaker, she felt weak.

"Konechno, nachal'nik. Ona prosypayetsya seychas... YA skazhu yey... Utverditel'nyy... Utverditel'nyy... Pust' T eto delayet?... Uvidimsya skoro." There was the clack of a phone being hung up.

"Ah, my manners escape me. How are you feeling? Any pain?" A feminine voice, harsh and clipped with an accent asked.

"Mm, head hurts."

"Hmm, you took a bump when you fainted, six and a half to eight G's will do that though. No concussion but you will probably have a bruise here on the side of your head," a gentle tap radiated pain into her skull and she was dimly aware of the woman saying something else.

"Where mm I?" Ashley found it hard to speak above a mumble.

"Med bay E, station #1, to be precise. More generally speaking? You are in the treatment center of the Terrestrial branch office of the Ministry of Intergalactic-dimensional Bureaucracy, or TMIB for short, located "in" New York City."

"Mmm. Who rr you?" She closed her eyes and remembered the special subway car and its inhabitant. Then she willed herself to wake up as the woman began speaking.

"They call me "M". Ms. Nilpine, you will have a visitor shortly, the director of operations here. He is going to offer you a job here, given what I've read on you, and what my scans show, I recommend you take it. It is the only way you will ever get a real chance to find out what happened to your sister," a woman, M, leaned over her as Ashley's eyes snapped open.

"Wha--"

"I don't know, but you are in our files from before my time. July 1999, according to the scans at least. I'm assuming that rings some bells, yes? I can't tell you more or open that file unless you become an agent. If you don't then you'll wake up at home like none of this ever happened, no memories, no records, nothing." The woman had a serious expression made more intense by her striking features; sapphire blue eyes with blazing intellect and crow's feet just taking hold at the corners, prominent cheekbones, a thin hooked nose, dusty blonde hair just touching her shoulders with hints of white sneaking in, pale almost sickly skin, thin lips on a wide mouth, and no makeup. Ashley would have believed she was anywhere from her mid 30's to well-preserved 80s.

"Why tell me that?" Ashley croaked at her, trying and failing to sit up. The other woman helped her.

"Careful, you have an IV and you're still weak from the painkillers. I tell you so you know some of what is at stake. Because you deserve to know at least that much. The director told you what you lose by joining, yes?"

"My life to this point, yeah."

"Yes. But you get knowledge and ability for the trade. You will see behind the curtains on this world's stage and you may be able to alter the script at times." She flashed a crooked smile and handed Ashley a glass of water.

"I will remove the IV now, the director will be here in a few moments. Whatever you decide, I wish you luck," M made eye contact with sincerity before pulling the IV, dabbing some gel and sticking a bandage on the puncture hole.

Ashley drank from the glass and looked around the room. 7 other beds with trays of tools beside them and large mobile lights like a dentist might have above were spaced through the room, 4 per side. 2 desks along opposite walls split the room in half, 2 beds on either side of them. One desk was neat and tidy only a few books and journals on its shelves a slim computer moniter with mouse and keyboard on the surface. The other desk had piles of books, journals, and loose papers littering the surface. Ashley couldn't see the monitor that had to be there, if the keyboard on top of some books was any indication. Highlighters, pens and pencils overflowed from 2 mugs amid the mess. That was the desk M walked to. There were also thick looking curtains by each bed hanging from on the ceiling that circled the bed. No doors or windows were visible.

Ashley noted M wore a black suit with a white lab coat on top. She walked with her hands in the coat pockets, elbows out and a hunched back, almost like the chicken dance. Ashley covered her lower face to hide the smile at such a thought but winced and dropped the rest of the water on her stomach and lap when she touched her nose.

"Ah, what? My nose..." Tears were filling her eyes as she gingerly inspected her painfully stinging nose.

"Hmm? Oh, I told you I straightened it, but it will be tender for a few hours. Takes time for the gel to work. You won't need one of those ridiculous masks though. Let me grab a towel for you."

The wall silently opened as M was rubbing a towel on Ashley's lap and Ashley had her head back trying to stop the tears. A familiar voice to both women called out with an amused tone.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all, director, just a bit of spilled water," M answered not bothering to look up or stop what she was doing.

"And a very tender nose and head," Ashley brought her head forward to look at him, dabbing at the tears with her sleeve.

"Excellent, I trust you've gotten a bit more information since waking, Ms. Nilpine?" His grin had returned while they were apart.

"M, has filled some holes, yes."

"Mind your phrasing, dear, a man could get excited hearing that." The grin grew at his terrible innuendo. Ashley simply frowned in return. He walked toward the bed and the wall slid shut behind him. M shuffled back to her desk.

"I can't help myself if you set me up like that. Now, did you have any questions for me before I make my offer?"

"How long would I be working here?"

"That's up to you. Ideally I'd want you around for 20, 30 years, get a nice retirement lined up for you. But if you work this case and don't like the job you're free to quit. But we can't give you your old life back at that point and we can't let you keep any information you got from here either."

"Hmm, what would I be doing?"

"Heh. Again, you would essentially be a detective for our cases. Noting the people who witnessed it and where and when it happened, and figuring out why it happened so we can stop it from happening again. If needed you would also take measures to prevent escalation or repeat occurences as well."

"What kind of cases would I be looking into?"

"Missing persons, persons not on file, unexplainable shifts in personalities, out of place technology, alien sightings, UFO/USO sightings, cryptid sightings, and other phenomena. Your first case would be under "other phenomena" if you were wondering."

"What would I have access to? Gear? Information? Backup?"

"Yes, all of those. Anything we have, provided it is used with discretion. Can't have you causing an incident after all."

"So, I'd be able to pull the extra classified files?"

"Provided they could be relevant, yes."

"Who decides that?"

"H which is me, P, D, or I."

"Was that a wierd way to say 'me, myself, and I' or...?"

"No, four different individuals. You'll find out who the rest are eventually."

"So, I get access to pretty much any information I want so long as I can justify it to one of four people, super secret gadgets and the help of a shadow government organization?"

"Yes, you will have all that and then some if you choose to join us, though I would hesitate to call us a "shadow governement organization" personally. But you will lose everything you have now keeping only your memories. Was that all?"

"...Can I send an email before I'm gone?"

"..." He frowned as he closed his eyes in thought. "I guess it would be cruel to deny that given the cover planned for you. I'll have to look it over before you send it. Go ahead," he tossed her phone to her. She wrote a goodbye to her family and handed the phone back.

"Mm. You're sure this is what you want to send?"

"Yeah, it's me and they know that."

"Alright, sent."

"Thanks... What now?"

"Now we get you set up. M, is she clear?"

"Crystal," was the answer from behind a stack of papers.

"Excellent. Let's get you over to Uniforms. T, come meet your new charge." He helped her out of the bed as the wall slid open again.

"Alright, thanks for the help, M! I'll see you later," Ashley called over to the older woman.

"No offense, but I hope not," still from behind the papers.

The director, H, led Ashley through the door where a shorter pudgy man was waiting. He was in the same black suit as M wore, but he had thick sunglasses on as well. He had dark brown hair cut in a business appropriate style, parted to one side on top with the sides and back kept short enough they wouldn't touch the ears or the neck of the suit. What was visible of his face looked bored or maybe disappointed as they left the Med bay.

"Greetings, I am T," he said without tone or inflection as he stiffly raised his hand for a handshake.

"Hi, I'm--not Ashley anymore. Am I?" She shook his hand and looked to the director.

"Ah, no. You are--"

"You are henceforth designated I upon accepting H's terms."

"I'm I?"

"Correct, you are I."

"Grammar weeps," I sighed in resignation.

"Ahem, shall we get you in uniform, or would you like to stay in damp clothes that you've been in for 3 days?" H motioned for them to start moving. T immediately took the cue.

"I don't suppose I'll have a chance to bathe first?" I fell into step a few paces behind T with H walking beside her.

"Hmm, I guess we can get you a shower while they make the alterations to your uniform if you want to get a briefing during the shower."

"Anything, please."

"Very well. We'll have a few stops after you get your uniform, of course. You'll need an ID and some equipment at least."

*****

"You had to have designed this based on the movie or they got leaked to the people that made the movie. It's exactly the same," I said inspecting the slender chrome tube with a light on top.

"Sorry, but it really is a coincidence. Maybe it's just the best design for the function?" The man offered as explanation.

"I guess, what's next, R?" She tucked the device into the holster inside her new suit's coat.

"Your new phone, set up mostly like your old one. It has the field agent's numbers in it but they are hidden within various normal sounding names, like how your ID shows you as Denise Jones, the "i" in Denise shows up to our glasses as red instead of black, same on the phone screen, but only to the glasses."

"Can I install stuff to it?"

"Games are disabled, but anything else, yeah. But your GPS, camera, and microphone only work on the pre-installed stuff."

"Cool, looks like they aren't too different." She was busily tapping away at something already.

"That's all I can give you with the paperwork we have so far. T will show you how the light works when it comes up. Any questions?"

"Not if he has to show me that later, thanks." She waved a goodbye and met her partner at the door. "So, I have my uniform, ID, fake ID, tech, and logins; what's next?"

He pulled two sets of car keys out of his pocket and tossed one to her.

"Oooh, we're ready to go out now?" T just gave a small nod in response.
 
Shamrock City, 1925

Many would regard the Roaring Twenties as a boisterous era of prosperity filled with jazz, speakeasies, and wild youth. For most of the white middle and upper class, that would be an accurate statement.

Mostly for the Upper class. They truly lived the high life: Fancy cars. Beautiful Women. Lots of money.

What more could anyone want?

There are, however, some who would disagree. Some who would say it was more trouble than it was worth. Some who would speak from experience, once being a part of that world.

Deep in the Jazz age was a city named after the symbol of Irish heritage and identity itself, the shamrock. It has been said that St. Patrick himself, while trying to convert the Irish Christian used this very symbol to explain to them the Holy Trinity, each leaf representing the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. More commonly believed, with a little less religion, was that the three leaves of the shamrock represented hope, faith, and love.... The fourth leaf, turning the shamrock a clover, representing luck. It was on these beliefs that Shamrock City was named and founded, though a quick stay in the city would give the unfortunate visitor a cruel taste of reality and remove all doubt as to why it was a mere shamrock and not a 4-leaf clover, for it was obvious Lady Luck did not smile upon Shamrock city.

Most cops were crooked, and those who weren't were powerless. Crime was more organized than the authorities, having more power and money to boot. The availability of guns and the celebration of lawlessness that came with Prohibition only contributed more to men and women alike committing violence and corrupting the city even further.

Nothing was as it seemed in this city, but occasionally, as rare as finding a 4-leaf clover in a field of shamrocks, there was someone who truly did hold the beliefs Shamrock City was founded on in their heart with all their might.

Rarer still to find that person an Officer of the law, but meeting Clifton Brownside would be finding that four-leaf clover in that field.

As the ground began to shake like the devil himself was arising from the depths, Clifton may argue that he wasn't particularly blessed with luck (and would possibly be right).

"AAUUUGH!!! Auuuuggghhh!!" The easily startled and newly awoken 28-year-old shouted as the floor rumbling beneath his feet only contributed to the nightmare he had just woken up from.

He practically flew out of bed, fell over due to the ground moving and horrible balance, and began screaming bloody murder throughout his apartment, ignoring the pain of the fall he just had and the cold sweat still soaking him.

"Whitey! Earthquake! Earthquuuaaaakkkee!!!" Clif flailed his arms, panicked, not sure if he expected Whitey to really do anything or not.

A pale, well built, strawberry blond man of about his age Clif knew as Whitey Valentine and a blonde dish Clif (and probably Whitey himself) didn't bother to learn the name of last night rushed out the room to hear what all the hullabaloo was about.

"Pipe down, you daisy! It's just a small tremor, barely anything is moving! Everything's jake, Clif!" Whitey groaned, giving him a look that clearly indicated Clif most certainly interrupted something with his doll.

"I-I'm turning it to the rumble!" Clif exclaimed, he did not care Whitey was name-calling him, and rushed to their radio, quickly turning the dials from Whiteys preferred potter palm type show to a news broadcast.

"It wasn't even strong enough to warrant a broadcast, Clif," Whitey grunted, exasperated, and crossed his arms, but other than that there wasn't much protest to change the station and his doll simply giggled while clutching his arm.

"Aw, let the poor little bunny at least check it," The blonde dish hanging from Whitey's arm humored him, most likely she felt sorry seeing him so frantic.

"More like a wet blanket and a sap than that," Whitey grumbled, rolling his eyes as Clif found the news station.

As his roommate suspected, Clif heard nothing about the small tremor from the radio.

"There, as I said: Everything's jake, Clif, now if you don't mind, we were in the middle of something...?" Whitey irritatingly requested once Clif heard what he wanted as he pointed to his doll and himself intermittently.

"Er, right, s-sorry about that, Whitey! I-I... I sorta just woke up from that nightmare again, a-and...yeah..." Clif trailed off, knowing he didn't really need to explain more to his roommate.

"Right, right. Well you better blouse off to work, its almost 7 AM already," Whitey, in his own way, understood and forgave Clif for the incident, and Clif scratched his head nervously as he watched Whitey and his dish re-enter his room to no doubt resume their shenanigans.

Clif, for several reasons mostly consisting of "not wanting to hear this", rushed to his room afterwards and got dressed in his full Fuzz uniform. He smiled as he looked in the mirror and adjusted his cap on his finely combed hair and rushed out of his room, already cutting it super close thanks to time wasted looking for the broadcast.

Before he dashed out completely he noticed Whitey had left his dishes from last night on the sink, and sighed. He'd told him a thousand times to pick up after himself, and he couldn't help but wonder exactly how his roommate managed to bring home so much dames with such sloppiness.

"Whitey! I told you once, I told you a million times: Do your dishes after you’re done using them! You know they attract gnats and flies and I’m going to be super late for work washing them because you didn’t!" Clif called, hurriedly trying to finish this chore before leaving for the station.

"I’m kinda BUSY here, Roommate, do you MIND?" Clif heard Whitey should from behind his door.

"I mind if I have to clean your dishes!" Clif retorted back while rolling his eyes, almost done.

"Well, no one’s asking you to wash them! I'll do it later!" The occupied roommate continued shouting.

Clif grumbles to himself as he finishes washing the dishes and ends the argument with his sloppy roommate, knowing full well "later" will never come, and dashes out the door of their apartment to the parking lot of the Complex, where his Fuzz bucket was parked.

"...Least he could do is pick up after himself, though I guess after the spectacle I made earlier I owed him at least that much... Anyway, I’ve got no time to think about this now, the Chief says we need new lead on that serial Killer we’ve been after for months now, since the last one was a dead end! I gotta keep my head in the game!" Clif thought to himself as he turned on the ignition and shakes his head, as if shaking the thought away.

Clif then drives off to Shamrock City Police Department close by to Shamrock City hall, eager to start yet another day in crime-fighting.
 
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[class=box]background:#F0F0F0;background-size:cover;color:black;border:4px #d0d0d0 solid;padding:4px;height:230px;overflow-Y:scroll;[/class] [class=container][/class] [class=send]color:blue;cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=exit]color:blue;cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=start][/class] [class=first][/class] [class=second][/class] [class=back]color:blue;cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=pic]color:blue;cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=resttwo][/class] [class=one]color:blue;cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=two]color:blue;cursor:pointer;[/class] [class=read]color:purple;[/class] [class=hide]display:none;[/class] [class=react][/class] [class=real][/class] [class=begin]color:blue;cursor:pointer;[/class] [script class=one on=click] addClass read one removeClass hide first removeClass hide pic addClass hide one addClass hide container [/script] [script class=pic on=click] addClass read pic addClass hide pic addClass hide first removeClass hide react removeClass hide back [/script] [script class=back on=click] addClass hide react addClass read back addClass hide back removeClass hide one removeClass hide two removeClass hide container [/script] [script class=two on=click] addClass read two removeClass hide second removeClass hide exit addClass hide one addClass hide two addClass hide container [/script] [script class=send on=click] addClass hide start addClass hide second addClass hide send addClass read send removeClass hide one removeClass hide container [/script] [script class=exit on=click] addClass hide second addClass read exit addClass hide exit removeClass hide real removeClass hide begin [/script] [script class=begin on=click] addClass read begin addClass hide real addClass hide begin removeClass hide start removeClass hide send [/script] [div class=" box start"]Dr. Leskova,

I would like to ask you some questions. I don't know if you know who I am, but I am looking into what happened with these holes that have opened up in various places and I heard you may know something about it.

I will be sending a student to your office with a phone that I will call. Please answer it when I do. The student will stick around to retrieve the phone when we are finished, don't mind them I will have paid them for their silence and they will distract themselves while we talk so they don't see or hear anything that may place you or them in danger.

Please let me know a good time to arrange this so I may make the proper arrangements. I would greatly prefer sooner rather than later.

Thanks for cooperating~!<3
MushiHime[/div][div class="container box hide"][div class="two hide"]Re:Meeting[/div][div class="one hide"]Muumen Hiiragi[/div][/div][div class="second hide box"]Ms. Mushi Hime,

There will not be a need to send a student intermediary, I will tell you what you want to know directly. I do not wish to needlessly involve any others.

I believe this is related to a so-called "dimensional bomb" that was theorized by a group who approached me for help due to my research in related areas.

They called themselves Horizon Aleph and their theory was that through the use of directed magnetic fields induced via radiation friction coupled with a suitably powerful gravitational field, such as those generated by black holes, a path not unlike the "worm-holes" of science fiction fame could be temporarily opened between two nearby "space-time membranes" as the M-theory posits.

I was able to work out the timing and energy requirements for the reaction to occur, but there were some large obstacles in being able to actually test my calculations; namely the lack of black holes to shoot focused magnetic fields at. I told them this and they didn't seemed bothered by that, asking for the numbers and paying me the full amount upon recieving them.

I didn't have any idea that anyone could have possibly found a way to get around the gravitational field needed, much less a portable power source capable of generating the energy needed for the radiation friction. I must admit that these holes appear very much like what my simulations were showing me, and seismic data from a colleague is...troubling at best.

If they have managed to get around those limitations they have also found a way to stabilize the reaction so that it lasts longer than a fraction of a second and covers more than the few meters I had calculated. I don't know if it will be helpful, but I am sending my notes and calculations to you. If nothing else than to have the information with someone unreachable to them.

I regret that I do not have a way to get in contact with their group, as they would send someone by periodically to check my progress, and and it has been just over 4 months since I gave them the final notes. They paid me then and that was that, I haven't heard from them again.

I pray that something here was useful to you, or that you can find someone to make it useful. Please, let me know if there is any way I may help you further.

Peter Leskova, Ph.D.
Lincoln Laboratory[/div][div class="first hide box"]MushiHime,

This is Head, with the Wave Gate Mercenary Corps; thanks again for the information last month while our normal info guy was out of action. Now, this isn't about a job, but I wanted to talk about the current situation. And some other stuff.

This is a little overdue as it is. MuumenHiiragi, your father, worked for us back in the day, even before his time at MIT, part of the reason he could afford to go. He asked us to look after you when he was gone, and with the present situation what it is...Well, you'd probably be safer with us.

I want to offer you the chance to come with us, if for nothing else than for the increased safety. I've got two of our people on the way to your house, they should be there in about an hour if the roads are somewhat drivable, I told them to wait for a signal from you so they'll park somewhere in view of the front of your house, white SUV w/Florida plates. In the meantime I'm here if you want to ask me questions, send a reply or call me at +1(242)555-8015.

P.S. Attaching a picture of your dad with us(and you!) as proof. A little old, and my phone doesn't have a great camera, but it should be good enough to recognize him.[/div]
[div class="react hide"]MushiHime's chair groaned as the hacker leaned forward, mouth agape, staring at the image on the screen: an old man holding a toddler surrounded by smiling onlookers standing on the deck of a luxury cruise ship. Five faces they recognized, more that they didn't.

That explains a lot. What?!

There is no doubt about it though, that is their logo and two of those guys are public members of WGMC that came up in the search last time I helped them. Hmm. Dad and me too, and that girl... I have a lifetime of questions for these people, maybe more. And their normal info guy might know more about what is going on, or maybe who/what is causing it. I don't see a reason to not accept. Or at least not to talk to them.If he was a mercenary he might have had enemies, this could be a trap. And their group takes on some dangerous jobs, what if I get caught up in their business? I could really use some answers from dad right about now. I have to confirm what he's said, I have to get into dad's encrypted drive to see if it can corroborate any of this.Can I though?It has been years since we last tried, we've learned so much. Even without the bots we can do so much, even without the backdoors into everything, we. can. do. this.

A ping sounded denoting a new email reply. Ugh, better make sure that isn't important before I get to work on this. [/div][div class="real hide"]After downloading the attachments and sending a quick reply for some clarifications the hacker exited the email and looked over the files.

This all looks like good information. Scary to think it might be what is causing those holes though. I'll set some bots to go looking for snippets of the formulas, maybe see if someone else has been looking for them or spreading them. Set some more up to look into Horizon Aleph and see what I can find on them. Today is going to be a good day.

Properly psyched up, the hacker set to work on their father's old encryption to verify what Head had said. Deciding more information is better than less, the hacker also called him while working on the drive. They really did have a lot to discuss.

*****

"Thanks Head, I'll go signal the others to come over here."

"No problem, kid. It'll be great to have you around."

They waved out their front door at the shiny white SUV down the road until it rumbled to life and parked in the driveway. The passenger, an asian woman who could have been an older teen or somewhere in her 30's, stepping out before it had completely stopped the driver taking a moment longer before he revealed himself as a tall middle-aged man with strong northern european genes.

If their choice in attire hinted at their personalities then this promised to be a fun ride, she wore a red blazer and matching skirt with black over-the-knee high-heeled boots and her hair expertly arranged in a bun held in place with a needle and holder; very professional and careful. He was in a green-blue hawaiian print shirt that looked 2 sizes too large and tan shorts with well-worn white loafers, his curly blond hair spilling onto his shoulders and into his face, lax and comfortable. She was tall and slender, but not skinny, probably a runner; he was taller than most basketball players and broad with a bit of a belly in the way that suggested he would be really strong naturally. He had a pistol straped to his right leg, within easy reach, locked up in a fancy plastic holster; it looked larger than what police typically carried. She didn't appear to be armed. He was the first to speak.

"Hey, I'm Gear, she's Lung. It is great to finally actually meet you, MH," he held out a huge hand.

"It's good to meet you two as well. Come in, I need to grab some stuff if that's ok?" Gesturing inside after shaking both their hands.

"Yup, that's why we came with the bigger rig, boss figured you might want to take some gear with you. We'll help you load if you need it."

"That would be great, let me break down the computers. Then we can load them. Umm, any other suggestions on what I should bring? I'm not sure what kind of supplies you guys have to work with."

"Enough clothes for a week at least, unless you want to do a lot of laundry. I've got about 3 weeks worth; I'd like more but mine get ruined pretty quick in the field or my shop. Lung, how long can you go without doing laundry?"

"Mmm? Ah go two muns no lahndee," she beamed with pride.

"Pfft, cheater. Disguises don't count," Gear folded his arms at her. She responded by quickly sticking her tongue out and smiling.

"You're probably safe with a week or two of clothes, depending on how often you want to wash 'em. And we can always pick up more clothes for you if we need to, goodness knows I buy clothes on the regular. I'd also recommend a gameboy or something if you don't spend all day on the computer, it can get boring back at base if you don't have something to do. And any toiletries you'll need for the next week, we can get deliveries for anything beyond that."

"Got it, thanks for the heads up. Is there any chance we could stop by MIT on the way out? I want to say goodbye to my aunt."

"Should be fine, we've got all day and there wasn't much traffic besides ambulances and firetrucks. Roads are shit though, it'll be bumpy and slow." Gear shrugged as he answered.

"That's fine, I would feel awful if I just disappeared on her."

After packing some bags and loading them and the computers the three got in the SUV and drove off.

******

"I'm here to see Dr. Hawke, do you know where she might be?"

The woman manning the front desk for the Brain and Cognitive Science labs looked at the student in front of her desk and the hacker saw the spark of recognition in her eyes.

"Puh-leeez tell me she got a hold of you on the phone!"

"Yeah, that's part of why I came to see her."

"Good, you keep that phone on you from now on, you hear?"

"Can do, Ms. Esteves."

"Mhm. Dr. Hawke should be in the meeting room; the meeting is due to end in 3 minutes, but you know they like to cut out a little early."

"Hah, yeah. Thanks," the hacker waved and pushed through the heavy door with practiced ease.

A short jog through familiar halls and the hacker saw the meeting room already mostly empty. Three people remained around the U-shaped table, two near the base on the left "arm" closer to this door, the other across the room near the end of the right "arm". The hacker paused outside while catching their breath.

"...va said he got a reply earlier," the man nearest the door, Dr. Raishimi, said.

"From who?" the woman next to him, Dr. Hawke, asked.

"That famous hacker! What is the name? Mushy time?" Dr. Raishimi tried to remember.

"Mushi-Hime, I believe. That's the one who took down those politicians and got early warning out about some terrorist attacks a while back, if I recall correctly." The other man, Dr. Brown, correctly recalled.

"Mm, maybe a good person to have looking into this then."

"Hawke, do you really think someone like that can be trusted? What do they have to gain from something like this? And what about all the laws they break to do what they do? We need to get people like that off the internet and behind bars. The video of that man in the suit used footage from military satellites and was released hours after the attack. If that doesn't scare you then I don't know what would."

"Dr. Brown, is it not a good thing to get that kind of information to as many people as possible as quickly as possible? Does that not increase the chance of people finding the criminal sooner?"

"No, Raishimi, it isn't a good thing to spread that information. It sends people into a panic, it warns the perpetrator that they need to hide, and it forces the government to act before they are ready. I do not see any good in that."

"Dr. Brown, I think--" Dr. Hawke was interrupted by soft knocking on the open door. All three turned to look and saw a student.

"Excuse me, may I have a word with Dr. Hawke?"

"Ruh--" Dr. Hawke's voice cracked and she had to clear her throught before continuing.

"I think I will excuse myself here. Dr. Raishimi, Dr. Brown." She stood and nodded to each of them as she said their names.

"Gentlemen." The hacker gave a nod and followed Dr. Hawke to her office.

They walked in stoic silence, the doctor slowing her stride for the benefit of the shorter student. The student studied the doctor while they walked. Her lab coat was wrinkled in places from sitting and a little less bright than normal. It was no less majestic for that as it billowed behind her from the speed of her gait. The bun in her hair was as neat and tidy as always, a few grey hairs had begun to mix with the pale blonde in recent years. The expression she wore was sharp, intimidating, cold, angry? No. Not anger, but focus, she was thinking about something. She noticed the student looking at her and surfaced from her thoughts to give a warm smile to the student beside her. The doctor unlocked her office and doffed the lab coat as they both came in.

"Hey, mo--" the student was wrapped in a tight hug before they could get any further.

"Oh, Beck! What are you doing here? I thought you were safe at home." She released her child from the death-hug to hear the answer.

"I was, the house is fine. We drove by your place and it--"

"We? You came with others? Who--"

"Some of dad's old friends. I'll get there. Your house is half standing, do you still have a key to my place?"

"Damn. Yeah, is the code the same?"

"Yup. So, these guys are offering me a job--"

"Can you really take a job right now? You only have a year and a half before you were presenting your doctorate thesis for both degrees. You have so mu--"

"It's fine, the head honcho was just good friends with dad and he heard what happened up here and wanted to make sure I stayed safe."

"How would...Where is the job?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Technically the Bahamas, but I'd be on a ship more often than not. Cruise ship."

"He really did know a guy down there....huh. We always thought he was kidding when he offered us free cruise tickets."

"So, I know it sounds silly, but someone put together a satellite map of where the holes are and guess what? None have opened in open water. Whatever is causing them must need to be on land."

"Yet, none have done it yet. And would it really be too far-fetched to think someone might bring whatever is doing it on a boat, Beck?"

"No, but if we get caught up thinking like that then we can't do anything at all. This is the safest move I can see, and besides, I can probably get you a free cruise this summer if I'm still working there at the time."

"Hmm...When did you get so persuasive?" Dr. Hawke hugged her child again. "You know I'm going to worry the whole time you're gone, right?"

"Yeah, and I'll be worrying about you too. But I think we're both going to be fine."

"You know, I never thought I would ever feel like a proper mom. Maybe that's terrible for me to say, especially after adopti--"

"Don't say that, you are my mom and I wouldn't trade you for anything!"

"Oh, now I'm crying. Go on, get out of here."

"Not that I want to go, but we'd have to let go of each other first."

"I suppose we would." They both gave each other one last squeeze.

"I'll talk to you later. Stay safe, okay?"

"Alright, you stay safe too. Love you, bug."

"Love you too, mom."[/div][div class=send]>>send[/div][div class="pic hide"]>>view picture[/div][div class="exit hide"]>>exit email[/div]
[div class="begin hide"]>>back to the start[/div][div class="back hide"]>>view reply[/div]
 
Hard.
Hungry.
Tight.
Hard. Hungry.
Tight.
Hard. Hungry. Tight.
Hard. Hungry. Loose?
Loose.
Follow.
Hungry.
Soft.
Dig. Dig dig.
Dig. Warm.
Smell.
Dig. Warm. Smell.
Hungry. Dig.
Warm. Smell. Hungry.
Bright. Too Bright.
Smell!
Free.
Wiggle. Squirm. Free.
Wiggle. Squirm.
Breathing?
Crying?
Chemical.
Follow smell.
Wiggle, Squirm. Soft?
Smells good.
Dig.
More scream.
Warm. Wet. Delicious.
Not good enough.
Smell brain. Swim. Wall?
Dig.
Brain. Delicious.
Silence. Sleep.
Wake.
Hear screams, hear crying. See dark.
See, metal. See, dirt. See, food. Stand.
Fall. Crawl. Stand.
Roar. Run. Fall.
Crawl faster.
Bite. Bite hard.
Wet, juicy. Much better than brain.
Eat.
Screaming and hitting and fighting do not bother us. Eat until not hungry. Always hungry. More food on food, but not warm. Not delicious. Smell. Run. Crawl.
Wall?
Dirt. Stone. Climb.
Climb. Climb. Long climb.
Brighter, brighter, hurts, but not too hurts. Not too brights. No more climb.
Crawl, stand. Up. Find more dark. Find more food. Find sleep.
Dark=food. Bright=sleep.
Understands.
Still dim. Find food…
 
Keenan was beginning to get discouraged. Sooner than later, night would fall and he still had no more leads than when he had gotten here.

What he did have was a better look at the area and a few firsthand accounts of the events, but it wasn’t much to go on and each person had something different to say; almost as if none of them had seen it well enough at all.

He let out a grumbling breath and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, then began the old “pat down” for his lighter.

Curious how every smoker always had to have a lighter on them, but there was some unwritten rule about being able to know where it was.

Ultimately he found it in the back pocket opposite his wallet and shook his head.

“I thought you quit.” Rang a familiar voice in the back of his mind.

“I thought you lost a few pounds.” He thought in response.

He shook his head and moved to light his cigarette, until he noticed something strange. At least he thought he had.

He took the cancer stick out of his mouth and placed it into his jacket pocket with the lighter, and began walking.

As he leaned against one of the military jeeps to get some of the weight off of his feet he saw that he was right. A shiny black sedan had pulled into the area.

Emerging from the vehicle were two very well groomed people in black suits and sunglasses, complete with an earpiece that screamed “conspiracy”. He shook his head and slowly approached the vehicle. The FBI was already on the scene, and so was the CIA, so what division of silliness had these two spawned from?

Possible they were more successful members of his profession in Private investigations, but he doubted it.

“A little late to the show aren’t you? Agent Wallace Mcgregor, still trying to figure things out for ourselves as you can imagine.”

He flashed his ‘credentials’ quickly, flashing them allowed him to seem legit by offering the information before he was asked and quickly allowing him to avoid scrutiny of a potentially trained eye. He hoped the fact that he had been on the scene long enough would do the rest.

Without waiting for a response he then offered his hand for a polite shake, in case they were interested.

God I hope they’re not foreigners. He thought.
 
"Special agent Denise Jones, a pleasure to see experienced eyes on the scene," agent I shook the offered hand while casualy flipping open a similar badge and ID. T, her partner, showed his badge revealing him as special agent Walter Perkins.

"So far we know the terrorist is has got some special 'Terminator' suit that lets him rocket around street level. We don't really know why or how he did what he did here. Soldiers on scene don't know much either, just that he seemed American and had a pretty nondescript appearance," he gave the description and looked a little tired of this data, probably heard it too many times or had to give it to too many different people already.

"Mm, might be our guy. Eggheads working for the boys in green were working on some super spy powersuit that got stolen a few weeks back. Internal investigation only until this happened, you know the type," she flashed a conspiratory grin in the hope of smoothing out the lie. He looked skeptical at that.

"Huh, not the kind of thing I would think got cleared to be shared with other branches so swiftly. Would expect more 'cover up' than honesty at this stage in the game from the 'branch responsible'. Am I right to guess one of you is the 'boss'? And, if this is one of your guys, how'd he get in a situation where he'd have access to that if he's capable of terrorism like this?" gesturing to hole, seeming further skeptical of them the more he spoke. "Would think he would have flunked a psyche eval if he was able to cause this much damage."

"Haha, neither of us are bosses. And if you didn't have that badge there would have been more cover," I paused to tap her sunglasses; "and perhaps I mispoke he isn't one of ours near as we can tell, we've just been chasing him. Someone broke in to the development lab, took the suit, and vanished. This guy's suit has a lot of the same functions, 2 plus 2 probably equals 4. Still no clues how he made the holes, but we suspect he isn't working alone," more lies tumbled out, he seemed to be satisfied with them at this point.

"Ah, now that clears things up a bit," he nodded sagely. "Sorry to say not much evidence here though. Guy may as well be a spook since he seemed to just up and vanish. I've been permitted to be personally involved as far as this needs to go, jurisdiction or not. I want to put this shit to bed before anyone else gets hurt. Got any plans on how to move forward?"

"Mm, search around for any escape routes or tracks he might have left, check for EM disturbance from the suit, talk to people and see if they noticed something we didn't. Not much else to do. And as for his vanishing trick, I don't have the full notes on the suit but I'd put money on it broadcasting or interfering with something," she gave half a shrug and a grin.

"I miss the days when cellphones were space-age malarky. I'll be around seeing if I can't see if I've missed something, let me know if you get anything new," the older detective walked away to resume his search. The former journalist called to his back as he left.

"Good luck! Let's catch this joker!" She felt a little silly saying it like that to an experienced agent. Oh well, I guess I'll just sound like the newbie I am to this side of things.

"Alright T, you have the ground penetrating radar, I'll take the galvanometer. You'll be looking for hidden tunnels and I'll be looking for unusual electrical charges. Keep an ear open in case the guys around you notice something," she pulled a small device out of the trunk. He nodded to her and grabbed what looked like a miniature lawn mower out. They closed the trunk and set to searching.

The galvanometer had slight reactions to the vehicles running in the area and more than a few people asked her to explain what she was doing around their vehicle with the strange-looking device. She kept her badge handy and an explanation ready, but it still grated at her when the people asking her were just standing around doing nothing. Not a single real investigator here! They don't know anything and they aren't trying to figure it out. Idiots. The only one who had any information was that McGregor guy who jumped us-- The galvanometer practically jumped out of her hands suddenly.

"Woah, what!?" I quickly scanned her surroundings as she picked up the fallen instrument. "T, I've got something, pack up and come here," she spoke softly as she saw someone she hadn't seen before in thea area. She kept an eye on him and made her way closer, but not directly to him. The galvanometer bounced frantically whenever she pointed it toward him. Bingo.

T strode next to her looking at the tool in her hands, then to her. She handed it to him and whispered.

"11 o'clock, asian male, strong readings from him."

"Confirmed, how do you plan to proceed?"

"I want to talk to him, get him to come willingly if we can. Too many witnesses for the complializer."

"Agreed. Proceed with caution I, we do not have the armaments to respond to hostile action. I will alert B, E, K, and Q."

"Thanks, T. Let's go," I walked quickly to catch up to their target.

"Excuse me, sir. Special agent Denise Jones, can I ask few questions?" She waved and showed her badge.

"Uh...of course, sir," He jumped when she called to him, and gave her a salute as he answered.

"At ease...major?" Her head tilted in confusion. He doesn't know the rank he is wearing. A major shouldn't be saluting me, nobody should. "I just wanted a statment, didn't mean to startle you. Has your investigation turned up anything?"

"Yes, sir," he cut his salute. "I've found the same stuff as everyone else so far, nothing else to report really. Although my superior did ask me to get some classified information over to the Internet Division. Things are so hectic over here though that I'm not really sure where thier troops are at right now. Any chance you could help a fella out?" He projected confidence despite clearly fishing for information.

I felt her eyebrow rise and had to force herself to stop it. "Yeah, I was just talking to one a couple minutes ago. Hey, Perkins, got a notepad?" She looked at her pudgy partner and he nodded while pulling one out. "What do you need to tell the 'Internet Division'?"

"My superior needs a file from the Internet Division that should tell us which of these holes is closest to... the source. Trouble is, we don't know if the internet's files have enough information on the source," he paused before adding: "but that's classified so don't tell anyone but the internet guys." She smiled inwardly.

"Well, I would have to tell some people to get the message there. Or, you could come with me back to our base and send the message directly. If you have time, of course."

"Are you guys located at the Internet Facility?" Hope had crept into his voice.

"Yup, we work with them all the time. You want a ride back with us?"

"I would like that very much, sir. It would actually work out better if I could access the files myself. Cuts out the middle man after all. But, uh, before we go I do need to ask something else..."

"Of course, what do you need?"

"Do you know about Hurricane?" His eyes narrowed as he asked.

I looked at T briefly before speaking, the word "no" scrolled across the inside of her sunglasses too late.

"I do, but I can't share that here. We can talk about that at the base. If that is alright?" She cursed in her mind as she felt the situation suddenly turn dangerous.

"Not really," he burst into action, grabbing her with hands that felt too large to be human as he jumped forward and activated his suit. I managed to pull the pistol Jake had given her years ago and popped off 2 shots towards his head before he shook her, making the pistol drop from her hand. The first shot missed but the second struck under his cheek just under the left eye and scraped up and off his face harmlessly.

"Report! Agent I hostage by case 50, small arms ineffective, unable to use other deterrent! Request immediate assistance!"

"Acknowledged, I; B, Q, intercept. E, K, support now. I want you there yesterday," Hodgeson's voice came over the earpiece.

The face of the man holding I disappeared, replaced by a helmet. He spoke, the suit adding a metallic ring to his words: "cry for help again and I crush you." They were skating along past the other people away from the hole and onto the streets.

She glared where his face had been. Bite me, moron. She put her hands in her pocket and got the phone her phone to call a friend. She waited to hear the digital voice answer.

"Hey, dude where are you taking me?" She shouted against the wind. He didn't answer and the voice in her ear sounded confused.

"C.W.? What's--" Another voice came through the earpiece, fainter and also digitally altered: "--ing you, kid?"

"I bet we could tune up your suit at that auto shop there, dude! There on 3rd!"

"What suit? Why is it so windy?" C'mon, you know!

"Ooh, I've always wanted shoes from that Giselle Parcelli's shop on the corner of Main and East! Can you stop there?" She put emphasis on the first letter of some words. I can't be more obvious than that.

"Giselle Pars...GPS? Oh no." Yes! There was a weird scuffling sound like a rake dragging across dry leaves and the other voice got garbled in with it. I's friend was choppy when they spoke next, "-ot -t! -rr...oo...ee..." A beep in I's ear signalled the call ended. Fffu--No, she got it. It's fine. She can use my phone's bluetooth or something to send a virus to this suit.

"Hey, I'm hungry! Stop there so I can get a burger!" She squirmed in his grasp hoping to throw him off balance or screw up a landing. No luck. Time for the last resort. Here goes something.

"Let go of me!" She brought both her legs back just as he jumped over a truck, his legs were split from the leap and opening in preparation for landing. She jerked her legs forwards knee-first for his groin and pain exploded across both her legs. "Gah!"

He just grunted on landing and kept going like it was nothing. I felt something wrap around her face and then there was darkness.
 
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