Futuristic The Watchers of Lynnhaven [IC]

[Sir Galahad II]

Lynnhaven. The corpse of the American Dream.

The day was July 4th, 2076, approximately 7 AM. Rain descended in sheets upon the labrynth that was the city, though the July temperatures somewhat made up for it. Regardless of the weather, it was business as usual. Flashes of neon swirled in the pools that collected on the ground, the concrete buildings that held them standing stoically against the precipitation. People drove or were driven to work, the club, a friend's apartment, you name it. The police did their daily rounds. Most people didn't have jobs, of course, so most of them stayed home. Fortunately for the people that were out, this meant not as much traffic. It was business as usual for Old Town as well. The poor had nothing to do but stay indoors, inside their decaying brick, wood, and plaster homes in the former suburbs. Most criminals didn't even bother walking around Old Town, especially in this weather. Who was there to steal from?

The ALP, too, stayed indoors, but it wasn't like they had a choice in the matter.

A man was sitting alone in an office, beneath an abandoned warehouse. He stared down at a folder on his desk, labled "recruits." Sighing, he took his smartphone from his pocket and called one of the many agents under his command. Another man, who very much abided by old-world culture and fashion, answered.

"Wilson," the first man said. "It's almost time to go meet the recruits."

"Way ahead of you, boss," said the second man. He was moving through the mess hall, then through the "living room" as the agents liked to call it, through the hallway that lead to the elevator, up the elevator, and finally through the warehouse and out the door. He had a small hand-held lantern in his hand, turning it on before setting it down by his feet. Finally, Wilson leaned against the wooden wall of the decrepid warehouse, and waited.

...
Meanwhile, ITF1 was tirelessly at work as well.

A woman in a pencil-skirt moved with urgency through a tall office building, having taken the elevator several stories in the air. Finally, at the top floor, she entered the presidential suite, marching to a man in a black suit as he peered through the rain-splattered window, down at the cityscape below.

"Sir," she said, "why haven't you-"

"Helen, baby," the man said, turning towards her with a smile on his face. "Please, knock before you enter, would you? We've been over this." The woman grumbled underneath her breath.

"Sorry, sir. As I was saying, why haven't you been answering your phone? ITF1 has been trying to contact you for thirty minutes. They sent me to speak to you in person."

"I'm a busy man, sweetheart. What's so urgent, anyway?"

"ITF1 recieved intel saying the ALP is going to try something today. They think-"

"Helen, the ALP is dead," he said, holding back laughter. "What, do you want me to send the best men in the city out on a witch hunt for a threat that isn't even there? Waste tax dollars? Come now. This is a non-issue."

"Sir!" said the woman, her face turning a bright red, "A counter-terrorist organization is telling you that there is a threat in our city, and you're just-" The suit held out his hand, stopping the woman and making her face turn an even brighter red.

"At ease, soldier. Run along now."

She stood there, mouth agape, for a few moments. Then, gathering herself from the shock of what just happened, she turned and stormed out of the office.

 

[TheSunVanished]

James Haynes walked toward the warehouse. He noticed Wilson leaning against the wall, but he didn't know him yet. He stood in front of him. He said nothing. He just stood there. It wasn't until a minute had passed he spoke. "Who are you, and where am I?" He asked Wilson. He waited for an answer. He took off his helmet, revealing a bandana over his bottom half of his face.

 

[Remembrance]

EDEN
In a shed, with rain that kills
The rain was drab for EDEN, it poured on him like a fountain of youth, except it threatened him more than anything, his body being too fragile and worn down to excuse such a threat, luckily, he would fix a few of his problems. He opened the door of a small shed beside a large abandoned warehouse, the door was rusty and seemed to almost break off of it's hinges the moment EDEN applied pull. As he entered and closed the door behind him, he looked throughout the small space and made himself aware of a few dangers; 1. The roof had holes in it that let water pour in, and 2. The ground was soil. Besides those two things he got to work, taking off his bag and placing it against a wall, he opened the bag and took out a small folding chair in a kid's size. EDEN unfolded the chair and pushed it into the ground, he wanted to remark about how he couldn't fit in a chair so impossibly small but decided against it when he chose to deal with it all.

After about 10 minutes he had set up most of what he needed which included; 1 Folding Table in a kid's size, A box full of components and tools, 1 camera on a stand with a wire that hooks up to EDEN's VMs [Visual Markers] which allowed him to see partially through the camera. He had everything he needed so he got to work. The whole purpose of this adventure was to integrate certain components to further increase his capacities and to increase the amount of processes he can take.

The first part was to take off the back part of his head which was relatively easy after holding onto it and shaking his head violently. EDEN at this point, had to make sure he could see throughout his secondary view. The next part was to start the SPT [Second Processor Takeover] which shut off his main processor and relied more heavily on the second collective of processors to work on everything, this allowed him to remove his main processor in exchange for one more advanced and newer, it fit perfectly and was easy to get used to, his second collective of processors had a 20% load decrease and the new main processor had a CSR [Calculation Success Rate] of about 98%, the other 2% seeming to be a stem of his older hardware being unable to keep up.

The second to final part of his adventure was to replace the elevator in his knee, the joint of his knee. It was simple, unscrew his leg up to his knee, take off some protective covers and replace the elevator. No real pain. The third and final part was the hard one, he had to replace his arm, the left one specifically, EDEN's reason for this was; "I found a cooler one so now I'm gonna use it." On a previous adventure into hell and back, EDEN had found an old machinery arm, the end attachment was odd however, resembling a pointed tridactyl claw which looked sick. With EDEN's luck, he had found a small changer with allowed the arm to attached to his shoulder part which was even more cool. EDEN with 5 minutes of his time, successfully detached his left arm and inserted the arm adapter, after that, he picked up the arm and screwed it into the adapter. 20 minutes was dedicated to this fiasco, and what might you ask did EDEN get out of it? A cool 1 foot extending mechanical arm with three claws, fuck yeah!

But, as rain poured in, EDEN had to move shop so in an effort to ease his back pain, he left his chair and table and instead just carried his box of useful materials. There was only one place EDEN could go, which was the abandoned warehouse next door, there wasn't any choice that was any closer. EDEN decided to wait on it and sat down in his kiddy chair and thought on life, how long he would be sitting there thinking about life? He didn't know, and he didn't really care either way.

 

[AGent87]

Dustin trudged through the rain, his eyes constantly roving around him, keeping watch for threats. His poncho, with the hood pulled up, kept most of him and his gear dry. He was especially careful to keep his bow under cover. The last thing he needed was for the wrong person to see him walking around with a weapon. They might not take too kindly to that. He also didn't want to expose the strings to any more water than necessary. It wouldn't do to have the bow fail him if he had to use it. Hopefully, he wouldn't need it, but caution was always good. It was fortunate that this part of town seemed mostly deserted, but one could never be too careful. His boots and pants from the knees down were thoroughly soaked, though. Water had managed to seep all the way down to his feet, and the squelching inside his boots made him uncomfortable. First order of business when he could get someplace dry was to air out his feet and put on dry socks. He needed his feet for walking or running, and preventing trench foot would be important for that.

He missed the forest, but when "Uncle" Rusty had told him about the ALP forming back up, Dustin felt the flames of vengeance roar anew within his soul. Losing his family one by one had been hard. Even harder had been the fact that there was nothing he could do, not then. First he had been too young, then too inexperienced, and finally, too lacking in the resources it would take to really get the government back for what they had done, the crimes they had committed upon his family. So had disappeared into the forest to run, and train, and survive, waiting for the chance to strike back. Now the ALP was ready to start again, but they needed bodies. Dustin was more than ecstatic to be one of those bodies. Finally, finally, he would be able to get back at the government.

After what felt like hours of endless trekking through sleeting rain and slippery muck that threatened to suck the boots right off his feet, he approached his destination. He hid behind a bit of wall and observed the area. There were two people standing outside, a lantern at their feet softly illuminating them in the dreary night. Once he was sure of his safety, he approached carefully, still keeping an eye on his surroundings. When he reached the two men, he nodded. "Is this the place?" he asked, being ambiguous, ever cautious.

 

[alexbriggs82]

Sebastian woke to an alert on his phone from ALP Command. "Report to recruiting location," it stated. "God dammit, I was finally getting some shut eye" he grumbled to himself before sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, looking around the barren room he observed the morning before, and the one before that, and every morning for the past three-ish years since deserting the ITF1. As much as he tried to shove those years into the back of his head, he grimly remembered every dirty deed he had committed. All the people he had hurt, tortured, and even killed lay heavy on his heart and his mind. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he simply wanted to make his family proud.

He proceeded to get dressed into a white tee shirt and black jeans, along with a black zip-up jacket that he left unzipped. After opening and retrieving his silenced H&K USP, he slipped it into a hidden holster sewn to the inside of his jacket before slipping on a pair of combat boots and heading out the door. He walked down the dimly lit street, avoiding the rain by staying under whatever cover he could find, as being soaking wet would not be a good first impression on the recruits. He had to make sure they respected him enough to listen at least, otherwise they would get nowhere. After walking a few blocks and turning some corners, he reached the warehouse where the recruits were to meet

He approached the grizzled man leaning against the wall of the warehouse, looking around before stopping his eyes upon the wary man he assumed to be a recruit. The man appeared to be not much younger than himself, sporting combat gear along with something clearly hidden underneath his poncho. "Who's this kid?" he said after turning back to Wilson with a bored look in his eyes.

Sir Galahad II