Fantasy Riptide

[The Gunrunner]

Durvatesh

Durvatesh grips the arm-rest of the chair tightly, his retreat into instinctive subconscious being the only thing restraining him from ripping the two pieces from where they are attached. The next 'broadcast' splits his mind into thousands of states - perhaps more, as some existences switch out for others in an inability to comprehend every single one. The electronics that once whirred away inside him feel as if they cease to exist, leaving huge hollow spaces in his body. Sometimes it feels as if they have been replaced by living tissue again, sometimes merely partially, and sometimes it's merely an empty hole. Millions of faces race through his thousands of minds in mere seconds, too quick to even understand if any are unique or repeating copies. Then, in an instant that immediately saps his mental energy, everything snaps back into one existence. There's a pressure all around him, the room bathed in a dull red light he can only barely process existing. It's a slow, torturous moment, wherein everything seems to be physically pressed back together. Then, suddenly, it's over. Many things had become impossible after the changes Durvatesh needed to endure. This moment brought one of the rare times he feels thankful for that, as his mind forgets itself and he tries and fails to vomit over the floor.

Durvatesh leans back in the chair, a feeling of relief and an intense desire to relax falling over him. But this would not be such a time; "In case y'all forgot to change before we took off, now would be a good time to do so. Border patrol's Hounds will have smelled our arrival and they'll be on us soon, so we had best look the part. Well, those of us that can afford to." An electronic crackling emits from him as a quiet, but deeply resonating, manner of chuckle rumbles out. Static distorts the voice at first, though gradually clears. As it does, a ship suddenly appears between them and Isyn - Right on time.

Durvatesh unbuckles himself from the seat, slowly pushing himself up. The rough-sewn rags that cover his form fall nearly to the ground, a dark mesh set within a low-hanging hood. It covered him, but it didn't do well at 'hiding' him; the body's proportions still looked... off. Padding indeed hid it a little bit, but one could tell with only a little inspection that something is wrong. 'Though,' he considers, noticing the end result of Kaloy's transformation as he turns around, 'there's a better one.' "You," he starts, pointing towards the elf, "comrade, I need..." pausing for a moment, Durvatesh gestures to himself, "A better disguise."

Hercynia

 

[Lyro]

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[/div][div class=title]Verillis[/div] [div class=mentions]Mentioned: [div class=link]@Sir Swigglesworth[/div] Emibow [div class=link]@Tardy Grade[/div] [div class=link]@Lexielai[/div] [div class=link]@Galain Fletchawk[/div] [div class=link]@Jeda Teq[/div] [div class=link]@sugarvine[/div] [div class=link]@RadiantOnyx[/div] Kenji Jensai duergar The Gunrunner [/div] [/div][/div]

..

Verillis looked back at the listless form of Pane and nodded at Asya's words. "Making him presentable is a long-shot, but we should at least wake him up." The gnome walked past the hovering fairy, quickly looked at the tiefling's restraints to ensure he was still tied to his seat, then, satisfied, stepped forward and slapped the man. "That's enough of that, Pane," he practically shouted at him as he stepped back. "Time to wake up! We have company."

Then, just as Kaloy finished Masking Durvatesh, a soft chime indicated that the border patrol's shuttle had just finished docking with their own. There was a soft hiss in a room not far from their own, immediately followed by the sound of heavy footsteps as several people stepped aboard, and within seconds a trio of figures had appeared in the entrance to their room. Two heavy-set, masked, and heavily-armored guards of indeterminate gender flanked a middle-aged woman in lighter attire who was currently looking over the occupants of the room with a steady, if not entirely forceful, gaze. All three were dressed in the colors and style of the Hierarchy, the two guards in plated armor, the woman in a cloak that concealed the clothes she wore underneath. Having concluded her initial survey of the ship's interior, she extended her arms from her cloak, pulling out a small flexscreen from underneath which she unfurled and began typing on.

"Welcome to Isyn," she began in a monotone voice, clearly reciting from a prepared script as she continued typing. "Due to ongoing exceptional circumstances, additional border security protocols have been enacted, and you have been flagged for inspection. You are all to remain here while our search is underway." She made a quick gesture with her left hand, and one of the guards stepped back and began walking away, his footsteps echoing in the metal corridor as he walked deeper into the ship. "In the meantime, I shall be collecting statements from each of you as to your purpose for your visit, including how long you plan on staying and where." She looked up from her screen and appeared to notice the WGB logos for the first time. A thin smile appeared on her face. "More help for the victims of war is of course always welcome." Her gaze shifted to Groth and Vincent, and a slight furrow came to her brow. "You will have to present valid permits for any weaponry you wish to bring, of course. Our own warzone escorts are also more than willing to offer you safe passage to the affected areas. But let's begin, starting with... you, there. Name and purpose."

OOC: Feel free to reply in any order, assuming that once the previous person has finished talking the woman turns to look at you for your statement.

 

[Sir Swigglesworth]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Location: Cargo ship in orbit of Isyn
Mood: Irked
Status: Still under G.I.W guise
Tags: [/div][/div][div class=title]Vincent "Shade" Lacroia[/div][div class=text]"Oh boy, they brought in the full greeting party didn't they? Welp, lets make these people happy and spare a thorn in my ass for later, temporarily at least." Vincent thought to himself before the lady turned her attention towards him first. A mental sigh came from the man, "God dammit." as she stepped over towards him and asked of their name and purpose.

"Well, greetings to you as well lass." Vincent said happily as she approached him and presented the man with her verbal inquiry. "Name, Vincent Lacroia and my purpose here is security detail from the G.I.W for this relief mission. As far as where I'm staying and how long I am, I'm to remain with this mission until their departure. Where they go I go unless told otherwise." Vincent gave the woman her answers and then was asked of their firearms and if they had the proper permits. Permits he had not, at least from any government on Isyn. Hell he didn't have his weapons "permitted" anywhere since they're his own design. Registered however is a different thing and perhaps that would work. So Vincent reached back and attached their XR5 to his back and lifted his left wrist to activate their device. In the flicks of a few fingers and buttons being pressed, a small personalize holographic interface was projected from the device and Vincent began swiping through his assorted files and such to find their G.I.W registry information. Once there Vincent flicked through until they found their weapon registry information and curled his right hand into a fist and twisted it to the left. This action in turn twisted the holographic interface to face the woman and not Vincent as he held up their left forearm for her to read his registry info. On it were the weapons he had on them currently, but did not mention anything about their suits internal mechanisms such as the "Death's Embrace" plasma blasters and ion tethers, or their sword which was not even recognizable unless powered by tekket.
[/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div]



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[Lexielai]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Sobriety: Mostly Sober
Tags: N/A[/div][/div][div class=title]Jayla "Jay" Dawnstrider[/div][div class=text]
“Docking clamps engaged, IS-2034. Atmospheric pressure equalized. You’re free to enter,” Jay droned from the pilot’s seat. She lifted her finger from the communications console and sat back.

Her eyes rested carefully on the scanners. Nobody seemed to suspect they were anything but the refugee ship they claimed to be. Yet. She hoped it would stay that way, because their odds were looking poor if the facade failed.

Their ship had no weapons, poor shielding, and was as slow as a space tortoise. Meanwhile dozens of twitchy warships waited in between them and Isyn. She was a good pilot; a superb pilot. But, with this scrap bucket, even she would have some major trouble making it out if all those ships turned hostile.

There was a soft hiss that alerted her just before the cockpit door opened. She turned her gaze to follow the heavy thumps of armored boots behind her, and to the patrol soldier inspecting the cockpit.

“Name and purpose,” his voice modulator barked as he stepped forward. His gun was held in a resting position, which meant he wasn’t suspicious yet.

“Tasha Morgan, sir. Just transporting these refugees to a safe place. Here are our credentials,” she lied, as naturally as breathing. She grabbed the data pad sitting by her console and passed it to the guard, who took it without a word. Several moments passed before he returned it to her, and Jay breathed an internal sigh of relief.

“Everything checks out. I’ll be forwarding this to the lieutenant to confirm before you’re clear. Thank you for your cooperation,” the soldier said boredly, like this wasn’t the first time he had made this spiel today.

“Thank you. Always a pleasure,” Jay said, accepting the data pad with a fake smile. She returned her eyes to the ship console to begin a diagnostics check before the soldier spoke again.

“It’s a good thing you’re doing.”

Jay froze, and turned. “What was that?”

“I said you’re doing a good thing. Taking in these refugees. My family came in on a shuttle like this. People like you gave me a second chance.”

She swallowed. “Oh, yeah. Just want to do my part, you know? Helping the galaxy. Making a difference. Good stuff.”

An armored gauntlet closed over her shoulder, and Jay tensed. “I’ll be finishing my inspections. Good luck,” the soldier said. Jay waited until he had closed the cockpit door before she relaxed her grip on the concealed gun under her chair.

“Competing diagnostics check now…” she muttered under her breath, proceeding onward with a few clicks on her console.
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[Fletchawk]

[div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Groth 'Rook' Roo'ken
Location:
Loreh Ship in the Isyn Space
Tags:

[/div][/div] Letting out a deep exhale as the hatch sounded that the airlock was sealed, Gorth steeled himself for the coming encounter. Normally this sort of thing was just another aspect of his life. He passed through hundreds if not thousands of systems during his life as a Judicator and met that number or more faceless customs agents, border patrols, even the occasional galactic highwaymen, but most were routine, and not all that memorable as they blurred together in his mind. However, today was different and this variance was that he was being dishonest in not only his identity and but his intent. Lying was never something had to do in his career as a Judicator. Yes, he has on the rare occasion, omitted some truths that would cause chaos and harm, but Groth had not outright lied since his days as a small child.

To say that Groth was uncomfortable with having to ignore a critical part of his morality for the mission at hand would be accurate if not an understatement. Even the short mental prayer to Imer Dallis to control the his unease in his mind felt wrong. Still, it was for the good of the galaxy. At least that's what the IDJD was telling him and Groth wanted to believe that he was performing a necessary evil, a one time thing. Groth popped his neck, as though it would somehow alleviate his discomfort. The hiss of the docking hatch as it open reveal to him a trio of Onnedias soldiers, the one leading the others was less armored and obviously an officer. Her well practiced speech would of been white noise to him on any other occasion, but now it was crystal clear. The woman's features were being burned into his brain when countless others couldn't even be pulled from the fog of his memories.

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Kor Rath'on. My role is Asset Protection. My orders were to escort the personnel and supplies to Isyn and to make sure they are delivered to and from the destination stated in the ship's manifest."

His tone mechanical, fear hidden away, nerves were steeled. Groth's muscle memory had already produced his datapad as he made sure to present his falsified identification and documents for the weapon on his thigh. These documents didn't include the Vindicator exo-suit that was stored in the mass condenser storage unit(MCSU) strapped against the small of his back. Although it wasn't likely to be discovered, he had to stop himself from shifting slightly due to his inherent need to reveal it. Even though he was was seated, Groth's size had him at eye level with the woman conducting the inspection and he had to force himself to slowly his divide his gaze between the soldiers of Onnedias as they carried out their duties. The ball of anxiety that was slowly growing behind his stoic face was old feeling and it was something he'd not had to deal with for quite some time.




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[Jeda Teq]

After the broadcast Arx remained in his seat. At first glance he would appear to be sleep or passed out, but the low hum of his suit told another story as it applied a small dose of morphine and regulated the integrity of his genetic make up. Prior to boarding the ship the soldier made no intent to hide his identity or conceal himself. Special operations or stealthy infiltration was not a part of his training; however boarding another ship was a different story. Behind his visor were public blueprints and routes inside the inspection ship. The visor rapidly played through various scenarios to find the one with the highest success rate.

Numbed by the morphine he almost missed his queue to be active in a mandatory conversation. When approached with the same line of questions as everyone else Arx stood up and saluted. "Name, Soldier Arx. Primary purpose is to serve and protect those who are incapable of doing so themselves. Sub purpose is to ensure the parties goals are completed without casualties at such tumultuous times of the planet Isyln." Ending his statement he cut his salute then touched the side of his visor, "When you're ready to receive I'm ready to send information of my inventory."

The list documented the following.
-1 Combat Knife
-1 M16a4 /w Sling and 4 magazines
-1 Colt Competition 1911 and 3 clips
-3 stun grenades
-Rubber Bullets
-1 pack Baby Wipes
-2 First aid kits
-1 bar of soap
....

 

[fluticasone]

The woman finished with the one called Arx, and now Asya was the one to follow. She steeled herself for the confrontation ahead, gazing into the eyes of the much taller female in front of her. Like the others before, she gave her the exact same question.

"Euna Averel. I will be providing translation if necessary in conjunction with my assistance in the relief efforts." Unsurprisingly, her mention of her translation prompted her to show credentials. Using the communicator on her neck, she transferred the necessary documents. The room remained tense while the inspector opened and perused the files on her reader. When she nodded in affirmation, Asya was surprised to realize she'd been holding her breath.

"With that background, I'm surprised you're in relief efforts and not the academe." The inspector gave Asya one last look, and she had a feeling the subject of her wings would come into question soon enough. Thankfully, she'd been briefed and prepared for the coming inquiry. "A fairy, correct? Fin Qillis or an outsider?" Answering outsider would prove more suspicious considering her mannerisms. Her habits formed by her years in his domain could not be removed in only months.

"Born in Fin Qillis, but am now one of the many refugees who escaped. I thought I would pay it back. it's safer to help on Isyn than it is in Fin Qillis' domain. He doesn't take kindly to traitors." There was just a slight quiver of her voice; her statement had enough truth in it that she found it easy enough to say. The inspector thanked her, and she met the gaze of others who had finished their turn. So far so good.

 

[Hercynia]

Kaloy positively beamed at the envoy, radiant expression on his Masked face making it exceedingly clear he was more than thrilled to be there as the elven border patrol official approached. Any trace of the careful, measured elf that was normally Kaloy Elkath vanished as he focused on his role - he now fully embodied the youthful zeal of an idealistic volunteer, hopefully what the leader of the boarding party expected to see.

As soon as she turned to face him, her expression the typical political exasperation shared by employees the whole universe over, he opened his mouth in a babbling, almost incoherent stream, his voice a solid half-octave higher than normal, his eyes lighting up like tiny torches in his now-round face.

"Jirai Kirsal here on behalf of the West-Galactic Benefaction and oh my god I'm so jealous you get to work around Isyn the skies are so gorgeous and I'm so happy you agreed to the cease-fire and I feel safer knowing that and I'm so excited and -" Kaloy paused to take in a deep breath and launched back into his tirade. "And I can't wait to see Isyn and help people and I'm happy we're here praise Loreh and-" Kaloy stuttered to a halt as the official raised her hand, smirking.

"That's enough, thank you." She turned away, quelling the smirk and replacing it with the normal blank expression found in all diplomats.

 

[Lyro]

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[/div][div class=title]Verillis[/div] [div class=mentions]Mentioned: [div class=link]@Sir Swigglesworth[/div] [div class=link]@Tardy Grade[/div] [div class=link]@Lexielai[/div] [div class=link]@Galain Fletchawk[/div] [div class=link]@Jeda Teq[/div] [div class=link]@sugarvine[/div] [div class=link]@RadiantOnyx[/div] Kenji Jensai duergar The Gunrunner [/div] [/div][/div]

..

"And I'm Tjinn Ardel," said Verillis with a beaming smile as the inspector finally turned to him, holding out his own ID tab, which the woman accepted with a thin smile. "No special title - just another guy trying his best to do the right thing. We hope to be of use in some of the areas most affected by the war, and to that end we have brought tools and equipment to assist us." He gestured in the general direction of the principal cargo hold. "Everything should be as detailed in the ship manifest, minus a supply of canned food we had to throw away for being spoiled. We also hope to be able to provide a new home to some of the orphaned children of Isyn, once we leave. Did you know," he went on, allowing a note of mostly synthetic anger to enter his voice, "that every year, despite promises from politicians on all sides, that anywhere between three hundred and two thousand additional children are--"

"I'm well aware of the statistics, thank you," the elf interrupted as she finished scanning his details. "Believe me, I am not in need of a reminder." She handed his tab back and looked up to survey the assembled group. Her eyes lingered with some hesitation on Arx and the still-groggy figure of Pane ("Loreh-sickness" they had volunteered, which the woman had seemed to accept once they presented his documents in his stead), but whatever private doubts she may have held, she kept quiet. "Everything appears to be in order. Of course, you will undergo a more thorough check once on the surface, but you seem like good people, and I am sure you will be allowed to do your work." The third guard who had walked off to talk to the pilot and inspect the cargo returned then, nodding briskly at their leader, and took up position behind her as she resumed. "The Hierarchy needs people like you if it is ever going to be able to bring a lasting peace to this land. You should apply for an Expanded Mobility Authorization as soon as you land - if you do it before the end of the day, you'll be able to access some of the more active conflict zones in just over four weeks from now. Good luck, and stay safe." The woman inclined her head ever-so-slightly towards them, then pivoted and retreated back towards her own shuttle, the guards following suit after her. Within seconds, they were through the hatch once more, and off the ship.

 

[Jeda Teq]

Arx narrowed his eyes at the woman's back as she and her posse made their departure. The way she looked at him didn't sit well with him at all. What was she thinking? There was no way he could get the answer to that, so he would put it on the back burner for now. At least until they were out of monitored areas.

His suit had finished healing the micro damage that Loreh FTL travel had caused his body. It wasn't one hundred percent, but the pain was now gone. As the effects of the morphine began to fade, Arx's mind cleared up. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. The first phase of the mission was almost complete. The sooner they got on the ground the better.

"Now that that's out of the way we can focus on the rest of our arrival. It's likely that they've already sent our information to a landing station. I'm unfamiliar with their SOP's but I don't foresee them giving us any trouble" He looked to Verillis as if suggesting he use his connections to Sillis to find out. "However I cannot peer into the future."

The soldier gazed out the porthole to lay his eyes on the planet. A since of nostalgia rushed over him as he thought back to his simulated training. He felt ready, this was no different than anything else he has done in his life. Another day as a soldier. He turned his attention from the glasss to Pane. "Pane, it's time to wake up." With a couple deliberate strides he stood before the dazed man and snapped his finger in front of Pane's face. Though his hand was gloved the odd material of it still gave off a loud pop.

 

[The Gunrunner]

Durvatesh

Durvatesh stands in place awkwardly, watching the others introduce themselves as he keeps an unnatural stillness in posture. The form being used with him could not be given a personal inspection, but would hopefully be passable. Security, pilot, security, security, translator, ... something. Durvatesh introduces himself merely as a mechanic, short and simple - He speaks slowly, with flat tone, but with a clear and otherwise natural voice. A strange accent is thick on his words. The nature of his... 'protective firearm' raises a few eyebrows, though he responds by merely shrugging his shoulders and presenting the appropriate permits. The weapon isn't common enough for its origin to be known, thankfully. Overall, introductions are quick to end. The inspector shows some verbal appreciation, gives some interesting advice, and leaves. Once they're gone, Durvatesh feels a sense of relief - "I hope that is correct," he says, cold eyes locked on Arx.

Durvatesh slowly looks down to his hands, turning them over in inspection. "Hm. This is different," he states flatly, poking at the flesh that has materialized around his body. "A shame it is a lie," he says, fingers trying and failing to pinch a portion of skin on his left arm. There's a dull tink that sounds out as metal fingers tap on an equally metal arm. He drops the hand, upper body rotating on a machined axis to face Verillis: "We should get that expanded mobility authorization. Any blockade could be a problem in the future."

 

[Lyro]

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[/div][div class=title]Verillis[/div] [div class=mentions]Mentioned: [div class=link]@Sir Swigglesworth[/div] [div class=link]@Tardy Grade[/div] [div class=link]@Lexielai[/div] [div class=link]@Galain Fletchawk[/div] [div class=link]@Jeda Teq[/div] [div class=link]@sugarvine[/div] [div class=link]@RadiantOnyx[/div] Kenji Jensai duergar The Gunrunner [/div] [/div][/div]

..

"An EMA? Hah!"

The sun-tanned driver of the shuttle they were on laughed at Durvatesh's question as they drove along the dusty road from the spaceport. Their ship had landed over three hours ago, but it had taken an hour for them to navigate the massive, bustling terminal, only to be detained for another hour-and-a-half when customs had flagged their group as requiring additional inspection. The questions had centered mostly around the firepower the mercenaries were bringing to Isyn, which at least one agent had found deeply suspicious, but in the end they were let go after their papers (both real and otherwise) checked out and they were unable to find any law-breaking weaponry. It had then been a short wait, followed by a long drive from the spaceport to the nearby city of Txzalotjol, which they could now see more clearly as the rover glided over the impossibly flat, sandy terrain of Isyn.

A shimmering globe surrounded the city, preventing them from making out any details, but it was apparent even from this distance that it was truly enormous, a settlement which should not have been sustainable in the mercilessly arid desert of the Third Scarred Planet. The heat of the scars was constant, a crushing, punishing incandescence that assailed the body and mind relentlessly. Even now, in the shuttle's climate-controlled atmosphere, it could somehow still be felt, that inescapable radiance which seared even the mind. It was not the pleasant warmth of divine magic, and neither was it the asphyxiating feeling of drowning: this was the Stream, unfiltered, unchecked, uncaring, as close as one could get to it without burning in its liquid flame.

"Good luck getting one of those," the driver continued, barely keeping his eyes on the road, which itself was little more than two painted lines as straight as could be. "They've been swamped with requests on all sides, and they're not being liberal handing them out." The road and the city aside, there was absolutely nothing else to be seen of Isyn, surrounded as they were on all sides by an absolutely flat terrain with no discernable features. Whatever landforms the planet may once have had, all but the mightiest of them had long since been eroded to pebbles and sand. That was the other aspect of the planet that had struck them as they had emerged from the spaceport: the wind. Though it was not a particularly strong one, it never subsided, never changed direction. Their driver had told them they would get used to it before long, and that it was best not to question where it came from for now. He was a young human male, barely an adult, who had started recounting his insipid, eventless life story at length without being prompted. At least, that was what Verillis had thought of it.

"We were told it would only be four weeks," Verillis commented, trying very hard not to sound sarcastic as he said it. "Is that not the case anymore?"

"Oh sure, you might get lucky. I hear some people even got theirs within a week. But I wouldn't hold out much hope, guys. The odds are not in your favor. Nah, you're better off doing some good in Txza for now - plenty of work to be done there, you can be sure of that!"

The bubble around the city dominated their field of view now, as the vehicle began to slow down its approach. It towered several hundreds of meters over them and extended many kilometres to the left and right, completely encasing the city in its magical glow. Their driver had explained early on that it was a form of city-wide climate control, which most major cities now boasted, and practically a necessity for the many tourists that still came through. Along the city's perimeter several small buildings could also be seen, jutting up from the ground just outside of the bubble's influence - checkpoints for entry into the megalopolis. The vehicle slowed down as it approached the nearest outpost, and a uniformed police officer stepped out with his hand held palm outward. They stopped just in front of him, just a hundred meters or so away from the bubble. Without a word being exchanged, the driver extended his arm out the window as the officer pulled out a scanner and held it out over his hand. It beeped twice in rapid succession, the guard nodded and stepped back, waving for the rover to continue on.

"Anyway," resumed the driver as the car sped up once more, hurtling directly towards the barrier. "It's been great meeting you. You seem like a decent bunch, and Loreh knows we could use a bit more decency around here."

The vehicle passed through the barrier, and Verillis instinctively tensed, expecting some kind of shock or sensation, but nothing happened, and instead they found themselves entering a large indoor garage filled with vehicles of all shape and form. Several could be seen parking and leaving in the distance, though none were currently close to them. Their driver brought the car to a halt before a sign marked with the airport's sigil, turned off the engine and opened the door. Immediately the heat from outside rushed in, and even though it was nowhere near as bad as it had been in the exposed area just outside the airport, it was still enough to make a few small beads of sweat re-appear on Verillis's forehead. The man walked around to the back of the car where he opened the trunk and started to unload their baggages. "There's a hotel just outside the garage - good prices, but usually pretty booked. If you really are intent on getting yourselves an EMA, the Planetary Security offices are located on the periphery of the city, not far from the local military base just outside the city. You'll also probably want to meet up with the other charities helping out with the war; those are a bit all over the place, but you'll find a lot of them towards the center, where the less fortunate usually live. Anything else you'd like to know while I'm still here?"

 

[Jeda Teq]

The heat of the scars were annoying. It stung his face as if he were brushing his skin with a prickly brush. It was a feeling he had to get accustomed to quickly. He couldn't allow this environment distract him from his goal. Obtain the needle.
Arx mulled over their mission brief in his head when it occurred to him that he had no idea what the needle looked like. In fact no information about it was given outside of its existence and location. Some reconnaissance was required.

When they arrived at their destination, Arx was the first out of the car. When the truck open up he grabbed his bags. The driver was a good man. Trustworthy even, but some of the contents of Arx's luggage required some care when handling. Lest they be classified as terrorists.
The driver opened the floor for further question. The soldier opted to take him up on the offer, "I'm a big history fan. Especially of ancient society. I here there is a huge archaeological dig sight on this planet. Do you know anything about it?" he inquired. "I would like to pay it a visit when I have some off time."

 

[Sir Swigglesworth]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Location: Txzalotjol
Mood: Rather bored
Status: Antsy
Tags: Fletchawk [/div][/div][div class=title]Vincent "Shade" Lacroia[/div][div class=text]If one thing was sure, it was the heat this planet provided. It didn't bother Vincent at all due to their suits cooling systems keeping things at a solid 68 degrees, optimal for him to function in. Their trip through customs had however been tedious to say the least after their group was flagged for additional inspection. All because of that one damn agent who was highly suspicious, it wasn't like they didn't expect someone to be suspicious with the weapons and he and other members of this party possessed though. It was a boring drill at customs however, let your weapon be inspected, test fire it at the range, let a customs agent fire it. It was all tedious and boring to him, but they did find some amusement at one of the agents having some appreciation for the design of their weapon.

Then came the long drive towards the actual city, as Verillis and the young driver talked, Vincent spun their knife in his hand out of boredom as they traveled through the desert. Exposure to what could only be said as "raw stream energy" left everyone feeling its presence and effects in one way or another, personally Vincent was able to see it through a spike in their suits power and weaponry systems, perhaps something that will be of great help to him on this planet. Finally though, after arriving at the city and gaining entry into the dome as Vincent decided to call it, the shuttle parked itself in a garage and Vincent quickly followed in suit of Arx to exit the vehicle. They somewhat watched as Arx spoke to their driver, a faint robotic sigh emanating from his audio outputs as they listened to Arx inquire about the archaeology site. "Really subtle there bud, try changing your tone up to come off as more sincere next time." Vincent thought to himself as they inspected their weapon and went to the truck to retrieve his combat pack, which contained their drones, his variant ion blade, a few tubes of nutri-gel, and other miscellaneous things such as a knife sharpener specifically made for his blade and a few articles of paperwork from customs permitting his firearms.

Eventually, as everyone else filed out of the vehicle and before going to take up a sentry position to fulfill his "serious" security roll, Vincent casually prodded Groth's sides to grab their attention. "Hey Kor," Vincent said while taking note to use their false name, "you sure that corporate outfit will protect ya from the big boy firepower if worse comes to worse?" His question was legitimate all while making the question seem like a typical conversation between security, they did indeed wonder if that vest would do anything in the means of protection. But behind the distorted, almost robotic voice that came from their helmet, laid deeper intent. For one, they wanted to see Groth's reaction to their subtle insinuation of inevitable combat, and two, they kept a keen eye out for any off looks or suspicious characters within the garage as they spoke. [/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div]



[class=wrapper]background-color:#2d1414;box-sizing:border-box;color:#FFFFFF;display:inline-block; position:relative;width:100%; text-align: justify;[/class] [class=title]animation:{post_id}glow 1.5s linear infinite alternate;color:#f3c662;font-family: Exo 2, Exo 2, Exo 2;font-size:3em;font-style:italic;padding:0;text-shadow:0 0 1em;margin-bottom: 10px;[/class] [class=box]margin:2em 1em;padding:2px 4px 0px;position:relative;[/class] [class=boxBg]box-sizing:content-box;height:100%;pointer-events:none;position:absolute;width:100%;[/class][class=boxBgLarge]top:0;left:-5px;padding:0 4px;border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.35);[/class] [class=boxBgTall]top:-8px;left:3px;padding:8px 0;width:calc(100% - 8px);height:100%;border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.25);[/class] [class=boxBgMedium]top:-4px;left:-1px;padding:4px 0;border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.4);[/class] [class=boxInner]background-color:#2d1414;overflow:hidden;margin:0.5em;[/class] [class=statusBox]box-sizing: border-box; border-right: 3px dotted white; padding: 15px; float: left; max-width: 250px; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px;[/class] [class=text]padding: 15px; font-family:Exo 2, Exo 2, Exo 2;font-size:1em;[/class] [class=statusText]font-family:Exo 2, Exo 2, Exo 2;font-size:1em; margin-top: 5px;[/class] [class=portrait]box-shadow:0 0 0.5em #6a3131;max-width:250px;width:calc(100% - 2.5em);[/class] [class=characterPortrait]box-sizing: border-box;[/class] [class name=characterPortrait state=hover]opacity: 0.5[/class] [class name=characterPortrait state=click][/class]

 

[Lexielai]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Sobriety: Mostly Sober
Tags: N/A[/div][/div][div class=title]Jayla "Jay" Dawnstrider[/div][div class=text]Jay milled along with the rest of her entourage, content with following their lead. For now. Call it laziness, or delegation, but she was happy to allow her perfectly competent coworkers to perform the hard work for her. Her attention was instead focused on observing her environment, and picking out what details she could while she waited for an opportunity to rear its head.

The patience, and decision making required, to only act at the right time in the right place in the right circumstances was underrated among infiltrators. Too often they would blow their cover unnecessarily or sit on their hands and waste golden moments as they passed by. It was, in a way, the hidden skillset that people didn’t talk about much. Flashy chases and explosions were much more popular fantasies of spy work.

That was why Jay excelled. She knew, when her gut screamed at her, the most opportune time to strike in a way few people could match. And until then, she was content to play the waiting game and, in doing so, give the impression that she was much less active than she was. Nobody noticed the little wallflower after all. Not until they had already spread their poison and it was too late to do anything about it. [/div][/div][/div][/div] [class=wrapper] background-color:#1B1515; box-sizing:border-box; color:#FFFFFF; display:inline-block; position:relative; width:100%; text-align: justify; [/class] [class=title] color: #f3c662; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:3em; font-style:italic; padding:0; text-shadow:0 0 1em; margin-bottom: 10px; [/class] [class=box] margin:2em 1em; padding:2px 4px 0px; position:relative; [/class] [class=boxBg] box-sizing:content-box; height:100%; pointer-events:none; position:absolute; width:100%; [/class] [class=boxBgLarge] top:0; left:-5px; padding:0 4px; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.35); [/class] [class=boxBgTall] top:-8px;left:3px; padding:8px 0; width:calc(100% - 8px); height:100%; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.25); [/class] [class=boxBgMedium] top:-4px; left:-1px; padding:4px 0; border:1px solid rgba(255,255,255,.4); [/class] [class=boxInner] background-color: #1B1515; overflow:hidden; margin:0.5em; [/class] [class=statusBox] box-sizing: border-box; border-right: 3px dotted white; padding: 15px; float: left; max-width: 250px; margin: 0px 15px 15px 0px; [/class] [class=text] padding: 0px 15px 15px 15px; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size:0.8em; [/class] [class=statusText] font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0.75em; margin-top: 5px; [/class] [class=characterPortrait] box-sizing: border-box; position: relative; border-radius: 20px; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class name=characterPortrait state=hover] opacity: 0.5 [/class]

 

[Fletchawk]

[div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Groth 'Rook' Roo'ken
Location:
Isyn - Txzalotjol
Tags:
Sir Swigglesworth Lyro
[/div][/div] Lying to the Inspector had left Groth in poor mood and having to do it again and again during customs didn't help. Being delayed through the process had stressed him thoroughly and having to apologize to the customs officer that nearly broke his hand by refusing to use two hands to testfire his sidearm was just icing on the cake. The heat didn't bother his Orcish physiology as much as the others, but he was still unaccustomed to it and disliked the experience it was providing. Groth especially wasn't fond of the uncontrolled Stream's wild ambience. Overall, it wasn't his worst day, but then again, he was now on planet where it never ended.

By the time that the group finally arrived in Txzalotjol, Groth was still a little irritated even if it didn't show through his stoic demeanor. So when his side was prodded by the one known as Vincent Lacroia followed by the man's inquiry, his immediate response was a dry scoff. "This 'armor' is a placeholder for my usual equipment, which is much heavier. It was deemed that it would of drawn too much attention to wear it for general duties." Groth patted the large sidearm holstered on his thigh slowly to make his next point. "However, it would seem that due to it's understandably questionable protection value, I'll likely not be the first target when we come under 'big boy' firepower which will allow me to at least fire this in retaliation" While he was being a little vague about the details of his regular equipment, he was being candid about his own dislike of the armor he was wearing. "Still, with or without this armor, I've a large pool of experience to draw from, so you'll not have to worry about my abilities." In truth, he would liked to wear his Vindicator exo suit, especially now that he'd got a chance gage his surroundings. Even though it wasn't obvious, Groth felt like their group was being watched. Which in his line work, that usually meant they were. There wasn't much Groth could do about it though, other than be vigilant. It did raise a question that he aimed their young driver as he grabbed his own crate from the storage compartment. "I'm more curious about what kind of crime is in the area. Anything we should watch for?"



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[fluticasone]

The thrill of the Stream's unrelenting presence quickly lost its novelty as the heat threatened to choke her. She could use magic to cool herself; with both Loreh and the Stream so close, it wouldn't take much effort on her part. But Asya, now called 'Euna', found it rude since she couldn't offer to do it for the rest. So she opted to suffer the uncomfortable temperature in silence.

The fairy spent most of the ride studying, looking every bit the studious translator that was her role. The elven languages had few resources, and most were restricted for some reason or other. With this mission, she'd been allowed to gain access to them. She tuned out the driver's chatter, only paying attention when they finally entered the city limits and were being disembarked. Lavender eyes followed each speaker, briefly settling on each member of the party. They all had different ways of going about it. She internally winced at Rook's and Arx's chosen approaches, but she supposed the method they used wasn't much better.

"Tjinn and... I'm sorry, I don't know your name." In between the inspection and then docking, she'd taken the time to internalize each person's alias. She floated over to the gnome's side, looking to their human driver. He looked nothing like the people from the Commonwealth, but she'd quickly learnt that humans had very varied features. "Is it possible to join the EMA or at least apply under the name of an established charity here? Doing it under a more trusted organization would probably expedite the process."

 

[Tardy Grade]

There were some perks going on a quest with a suspicious group. Especially when you became a seemingly tame individual in comparison. Giant blades attached to your forearms? Tame in comparison to high end combat suits and guns so large they'd likely need to go to a customs officer for inspection of their attachments.

Slightly crazy demeanor with a zoned out buzz due to reaching a mental state of euphoria? Hey! Atleast this one didn't almost break Cart's arm, right?

And so Pane went like a fish with his school. Customed. Ferried. Practically dragged by the momentum of his group's mission.
It was the driver's voice that woke him up. His soothing dulcet timbre that -

"Whoa ... I'm definitely writing about that when I remember how to use a pen again!" He announced as he took a pen from his bag and began to stare at it. Willing it to reveal its uniball secrets to him. Bequeathing the inky spells that bound his pages in disjointed chains.

"Was it like ..." he pointed the pen at the back of the drivers head. Twisting it slightly at the hilt until the tip glistened into view.

"That's odd ..." he said feeling like it ought to have ...

"No wait! Paper. It needs to touch paper." He thwacked his forehead and place the pen on a clean page of his book before saying, Ok pen. Take down these words. Ok pen? Pen?"

 

[Lyro]

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[/div][div class=title]Verillis[/div] [div class=mentions]Mentioned: [div class=link]@Sir Swigglesworth[/div] [div class=link]@Tardy Grade[/div] [div class=link]@Lexielai[/div] [div class=link]@Galain Fletchawk[/div] [div class=link]@Jeda Teq[/div] [div class=link]@sugarvine[/div] [div class=link]@RadiantOnyx[/div] Kenji Jensai duergar The Gunrunner [/div] [/div][/div]

..

"Take your pick, pal," the driver replied to Arx as he kept unloading baggages. "There's about four digs in this region alone, last I checked. I think I know the one you're talking about, though - is that why you want an EMA?" He chuckled and went on. "It's due North of Txza, a few hours from here. They must have found something valuable there; I heard the place is swarming with military. Really noble of them to protect our past even in times of war, don't you think?" Verillis puzzled at this, looking suspicously at the driver from the side, but he had sounded sincere.

The man grunted as he unloaded a particularly heavy piece of luggage and handed it to Vincent. "That's yours, right? Here you go," he said as he handed the handle to him. As Vincent gripped it, however, he felt a tiny sliver of paper being slid beneath his palm, no bigger than his finger. By the time he realized it, however, the driver had already let go and had turned back to unload the last of the luggage.

"Crime in Txzalotjol? Pretty much like any big city on Isyn, really. Gangs, corruption, petty theft, you name it. They've been cracking down on it more lately since the annual Gilded Games are set to begin soon, so obviously more tourists are going to be pouring in. You'll definitely want to avoid the Drop, though - bad neighborhood, that. Real shame, too, since it's the oldest part of the city. They say this place was home to an Antecedent race, don't you know? Not much known of their lot, sadly. Five legs, so they say. Seems like a waste to me."

With one last grunt he finished unloading and turned to face the small fairy looking at him. His expression was sympathetic as he crouched down slightly. "I'm sorry, friend. They don't do exceptions for charity. They ought to, in my opinion, I'm with you there. At least you won't have to file the paperwork yourself - be grateful for that. Just register with your local chapter, or however it is you people work around here. They'll take care of it."

A device on his forearm beeped suddenly and he stood up and sighed. "Ah, it never ends. Alright, good luck folk. This planet's people could use some help, to say the least." His eyes shifted to Pane briefly, apparently mesmerized by his pen. "... some more than others." With one last wave to all of them, he closed the trunk, moved back to the front and got back in his seat. Within seconds, the car was gone, back on its way to the spaceport it had come from, and the group was left on its own in the middle of the garage. A few meters away from them, a door was labelled with a glowing EXIT sign, adjoining a map of the neighborhood.

"Right," said Verillis, immediately dropping the facade he had adopted as he walked to inspect the map closer, "you heard the man. There is no way we're getting an EMA in time. Not through the usual channels, anyway. So, I don't know about you people, but I'm making the hotel my first priority. I really don't feel like walking around in this heat with all this."

 

[Sir Swigglesworth]

[div class=wrapper][div class=box][div class="boxBg boxBgLarge"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgTall"][/div][div class="boxBg boxBgMedium"][/div][div class=boxInner][div class=statusBox][div class=characterPortrait][/div][div class=statusText]Location:
Mood: Intrigued
Status: "On guard duty"
Tags: Fletchawk Lyro Tardy Grade Lexielai Jeda Teq fluticasone Hercynia Kenji Jensai duergar The Gunrunner [/div][/div][div class=title]Vincent "Shade" Lacroia[/div][div class=text]"Hm, a placeholder eh? Now you've got me intrigued there big man." Vincent would say with a soft chuckle before they hit the judicators chest with the back of their hand lightly and left them to their own devices. They were stood on sentry duty until they watched the driver produce a piece of luggage from the shuttle and walk over to hand it off to him. "What the, I didn't bring any lug-," the man had thought until their mind was cut off by the feeling of something being slipped beneath his grip as they took hold of the handle. Whatever was contained inside, it was significantly heavy, and they gave a suspicious gaze towards the driver beneath their helmet as the young man walked away back towards the shuttle. With curiosity running amok in Vincent's mind but subtle assumption existing as well, they opted to wait until a later moment to observe the paper slip he had been given.

Once Verillis had begun speaking and caught the attention of everyone else, Vincent took his opportunity behind the group to set the luggage case down and inspect the slip of paper. Inscribed on it was an address and time, clearly meant for him as the driver used a rather swift hand to slip it beneath their grip and had no hesitation. Another curiosity was what laid inside the luggage case he had been given, but they knew all the details would be exposed soon enough. So with no further questions after mentally noting the address and time, Vincent vaporized the paper with a quick heat burst from their right gauntlet blaster before inputting the data to his wrist device through audio commands. During this, he made sure to deactivate their suits audio outputs so no one could hear him. After Verillis had finished with their quick speech, Vincent chimed in. "He's right people, we don't have a chance for that EMA and we should re-fuck I didn't activate my audio outputs." So after that little fuck up, they spoke up once again following the reactivation of their audio systems. "He's right people," he said as they stepped towards Verillis and stood by their side, "we don't have a chance for that EMA to reach the severely affected areas and we at least need a location to act as our base of operations. So we'll likely be using that hotel to maintain our relief efforts and further plan out our operations" As he spoke, their helmet deactivated and revealed the smiling, crimson amber eyed man that hid beneath, "So lets get going shall we?" During his small speech to the group, it was clear they were actively maintaining their relief group facade but put enough subtle tone and body language into their speech to really get his point across, that the hotel will be the groups active base of operations to plan out their operations to secure and destroy this artifact along with any other missions that varying members might possess.

[/div][div class=text][/div][/div][/div][/div]



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[fluticasone]

A frown developed as the driver explained the circumstances, but she supposed there was nothing they could do about their situation. With a polite show of thanks, she waved back as he went off. Nothing changed with the fairy's demeanor as the human left, as she hadn't had to act that much different in the first place.

Following Verillis' cue, she studied the map herself. Lifting a small hand to the map, she pointed to a building labelled L'Aventale. "This must be the hotel the driver was referring to." If it was accurate, then the human was right. It was a mere block away from the garage. She hoped the map wasn't grossly scaled down, otherwise she was liable to expire from the heat. As it was, she could feel the slap of the Stream's furnace every time someone went through the exit beside her. Asya could imagine that going out of the garage's shelter would only make it worse.

Everyone collected the various pieces of luggage and equipment they chose to bring and set out for their new 'base of operations'. The fairy was thankful she didn't require much more than a few changes of clothes, as magic could take care of everything else. In a place where the Stream surged so close, it was easy. She pitied those who were forced to carry their more bulky supplies, but as she could offer no assistance, she chose to help the gnome navigate.

It was fairly easy to spot the locals from the foreigners; the former was accustomed to the intense climate and moved with ease. The latter, meanwhile, trudged in a slow pace as if it would help ease their discomfort. Asya doubted it would, but she was content with her group's own slow pace. It allowed her time to observe the hodgepodge of cultures that was Isyn. "Have any of you been here before? Or any place like this really?" A note of fascination colored her voice; her sheltered upbringing hadn't allowed for much travelling, and she hadn't been free of Fin Qillis that long either.

 

[Jeda Teq]

Looking over Verillis and the fairy, Arx scanned the map of the city. With the information provided to him by their guide he mark points of interests then sent the data to the others form of PDA. "It would be a pain to get lost." He said as he put his luggage on his shoulders like a backpack. "You can go ahead and procure lodging. I'll be going to speak with the local and the charitable organizations that reside here, but before I do, what is the agreed upon name of our pseudo-group?"

 

[Hercynia]

Kaloy trailed along behind the others, content to simply watch and observe. His outward appearance remained one of joviality as his mask remained up, customs being a breeze - most likely the border patrol they'd encountered scared away most of the people customs would in most other planets. Ah well, not like they were exactly difficult to fool either. Fake identities were hardly difficult these days, what with the ever-increasing number of "information specialists". Technology was such a wonderful thing.

These thoughts flurried around Kaloy's mind as he gazed out at the desert plains - well, desert wasteland, really. He'd never really liked deserts much. Too hot, too uncomfortable. The suns were always merciless, painful. It seemed inefficient to have the dock this far out from the city, but from another perspective it made sense - nobody wanted to have a ship crashinto the city, environmental shielding or no. Still, it was a pain, and trolley seemed like an awfully slow way to move around.

As the thought of it crossed the elf's mind, the city appeared ahead - a shining, glittering dome - common environmental control in these climates. Unsurprising, but nevertheless - a pain. The dome loomed, growing close, until finally it towered above the cart, which slowed to a halt beside a checkpoint. The guard conversed with an officer there, before the cart took off again, shooting through the barrier and coming to yet another stop, this time a final one, inside a relatively large garage.

Kaloy stood, stretching his leg and thanked the driver as his one bag was handed to him. He couldn't wait to put on his coat again. His safe, familiar, coat.

 

[Lyro]

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[/div][div class=title]Verillis[/div] [div class=mentions]Mentioned: [div class=link]@Sir Swigglesworth[/div] [div class=link]@Tardy Grade[/div] [div class=link]@Lexielai[/div] [div class=link]@Galain Fletchawk[/div] [div class=link]@Jeda Teq[/div] [div class=link]@sugarvine[/div] [div class=link]@RadiantOnyx[/div] Kenji Jensai duergar The Gunrunner [/div] [/div][/div]

..

The exit to the garage swung open, revealing the street beyond. The warm air from without filtered in, thankfully less intense than it had been outside the dome, but nonetheless an oppressive thing that could not be ignored. Faint streams of sand blew through the street, covering it in a fine yellow-white coat that shifted with the wind and the passing vehicles, which rushed past them at blindingly fast speeds above the magnetic guidings of the road. Towering buildings loomed over them from every side, some even seeming to pierce through the city's protective dome. The city's architects had seemed to favor going tall over going wide, though this appeared to be the sole unifying factor: not one building was the same, each of them drawing inspiration from wildly different architectural styles. Within the span of a few hundred meters one could see decadent 153rd century Onnediasic elven bordering modern, pragmatic Hegemonism, complete with attachments that had evidently not tried very hard to meld with the original style. The profusion of gaudy lights, flashy billboards and holographic advertisements peppered both at and above street level only further heightened the effect of the confusing, sprawling mess that was Txzalotjol.

And yet what drew Verillis's attention the most was not the architecture, the scale of the buildings, or the distracting lights around him. It was the people. He was used to frequenting many different races - most of the modern galaxy was by now, after all - but never had he seen such a dense mix of different cultures. His eyes strained to identify the insignias of the people going past him - was that the flag of Vorichia? the symbol of the Arenian Armed Forces? the EuroSino stars? Some of them even appeared to belong to countries that were long gone, and yet somehow still lived on through their insignia and colors. Way off in the distance, he even thought he could glimpse a species he did not recognize, but it disappeared around a corner before he could focus on it.

"No, ma'am," he said slightly breathlessly, "I don't believe I've ever been anywhere like this." His eyes searched the street, still trying to pick out additional details, before he saw it. He nodded towards it. "There's our hotel," he continued, pointing towards a building of average height for the city. A glowing neon sign named it as the "Hotel Siranov", both o's flickering intermittently. The gnome lifted his bag off the ground and began to slowly make his way through the crowd. Immediately the heat worsened, as the combined body heat of hundreds of individuals pressed against him. "Come on, let's not waste any more time! We can see the sites later. I just want to get out of here right now."

 

[Jeda Teq]

When the groups departed from the garage Arx split from them. He had two primary objectives. One was to have eyes on the environment, but the city was alive. The second was to make contact with a Charitable Organization. They may have assets that could be used to further their mission.

He had forgotten about the discomfort of the heat and the weight of his bag on his shoulders. Those were replaced with sense of unease. He couldn't help but feel as if he were being watched. If he was it couldn't be helped. HIs uniform clearly marked him as an Arx soldier. Many have suffered the sting of his brothers actions in wars around the galaxy. Those who felt it may refuse to recognize a difference in the individuals. With how many different military organizations in this city Arx would not be surprised if he encountered someone who had a grudge against his name. He had to keep his guard up; watching his own back to avoid an ambush.

It wasn't long until he found himself in one of the more grungy parts of the city. Perhaps he could meet someone here who was providing aid to the less fortunate.