Xander turned on Jacob when a question was asked and all but glared at him,
"I have learnt all of this, boy, because I was there when the strength of Eversio failed. I was there when the Creator turned his back on us and let us die."
He scowled at everyone in turn, "None of you remember everything. None of you remember all of the pain and suffering of my people."
His posture was ridged as he stopped, irritation and anger blatant on his face. Xander's scar seemed to stand out on his face more now, the jagged line contrasting with his livid expression.
Xander took a breath. Seemingly to calm himself, and spoke again,
"Gather your belongings, we'll be leaving shortly. Bring anything that you don't want to leave behind, leave anything that you can live without. It's likely that once we retrieve Alya, we won't be coming back to this location."
<><><><><><><>
((Percy to the rescue))
Percy sat on a wooden bench as he watched the comings and goings of the common folk. He enjoyed watching the little games of the human children, and the way their petty parents would run after them. It was peaceful here, and it was a welcome change. Running errands for Mr. Fo wasn't exactly the calmest lifestyle, nor the easiest.
Just last week, Percy had almost been killed while retrieving a package. He didn't know what was so special about it, just a box in plain brown paper. But, Mr. Fo demanded that it be carried with the utmost caution. So, that's what Percy did. He was, after all, very good at his job.
Two people suddenly caught Percy's attention, just out of his peripheral view. He turned to see them more clearly, but kept his head down beneath his cap. To anyone watching, he would appear as a beggar sleeping on a park bench. He continued to watch the two figures and saw what appeared to be a flurry of paper. Along with that paper, he noticed a very familiar wax stamp.
He grinned beneath the cap, realizing that these were the last two Caelings that still needed to join Xander. Percy checked his watched, he was scheduled to receive a pick up in ten minutes. Not enough time to talk to the Caelings, then. He quickly reached into his coat, drawing out a pen and a small slip of paper. On this paper he quickly wrote,
Xander Fo, Cael, Hurry
40-01 24TH ST, QUEENS, NY 11101
Percy jumped up from his spot on the bench and walked towards the duo. He quickly brushed past the older one while simultaneously shoving the folded up paper into his hand. Percy kept walking hurriedly, and soon stepped out of the park and onto the street, disappearing into the crowd.
((I don't mean to rush or pressure anyone, but I'm waiting for all characters to gather in the warehouse so Xander can explain what's next. I won't wait much longer though as the story must be progressed.))
((Ah. Noted. I've tweaked my lore(app) accordingly. Also, quick question. how do you feel about lightning as an Aegis ability? It does make sense given that the whole thing revolves around storms and such, but it seems to be close to an Astrum ability. I say this because I presume we get to improve and discover new abilities over time, but I wanted to make sure.))
((I'd say that would be fine. It would most likely be an ability for both Aegis and Astrum that could be developed later.))
((Quick question, we refer to people from Cael as Caelings, so we refer to people from Gehenna as Gehennans? And what of Ultio? Just wanted to get my lore straight.))
((Inhabitants of Gehenna are known as Gehennians and inhabitants of Ultio are known as Ultions. As for Cael, the correct term is Caelans. Caeling is somewhat of a derogatory term, often used in a more mocking sense.))
Personality: Though not exactly shy, Cedric normally doesn't go out of his way to start a
conversation. He tends to go with the flow most of the time, and allows others to lead the way.
This is a result of knowing very little of humans, as he spends most of his time underwater. He
is easy to get along with, but hard to know well, as he keeps his inner thoughts hidden from
most.
Appearance: Cedric has relatively short, white-blond hair. His face is smooth and blemishless,
with a pale complexion. His body is well-muscled, but not hugely bulky. His clothing tends to be
plain and unadorned, usually being jeans and a sky blue t-shirt when on land. For extended stays
in the ocean, a navy blue wetsuit is his clothing of choice.
Kingdom: Unda
As ruler of Unda, Cedric kept to himself, and reigned mostly from behind the scenes. But despite
his secrecy, he was a shrewd and clever leader, and Unda thrived under his rule. His goals were
mostly internal, and he dealt with the other kingdoms only when absolutely necessary. It wasn't
until the Eversio War that he discovered that relations with his fellow rulers might have been
prudent.
Abilities:
-Power of the Ocean: When in contact with water, (external to himself), Cedric gains superhuman
strength, agility, and endurance. The opposite is also true, however, as dry climates tend to
make him ill.
-Aquamancy: He is capable of manipulating water to his will, this includes its motion, but not
its temperature.
Year Reborn: c. 1256 A.D.
Background:
When the Eversio War began, Cedric tried to keep Unda from being involved for as long as possible. He kept
his army close to home, bringing only minimal aid to the other kingdoms. Had he helped the rest
of the planet, perhaps the might of Gehenna could have been held at bay for longer, but Unda
stayed safe within its walls until the enemy lay siege to the kingdom directly.
The wall was breached, and rather than fight, Cedric's cowardice reared its ugly head once again.
He dived into the ocean and tried to get as far from the battle as possible. He couldn't escape
fast enough, however, and he was captured and killed.
Cedric was reborn in the year he later estimated was probably around 1256 A.D. Lost and confused,
he sought shelter with an elderly fisherman and his wife. This was where he stayed for the next
few years, and he discovered and learned to use his powers at this time as well.
It soon became evident to Cedric that he didn't age, but he hid this from the people around him,
along with his watery powers. Flashbacks to Cael began as well, and he began to be afraid of
himself and all his unsolved mysteries.
Then, after a few years, the couple with whom Cedric lived died within several days of each
other. Now adding sorrow to his emotional burden, he didn't think he could handle being around
other people, so he retreated into the ocean for good. This was how he lived for the next 700
years or so, and he reclaimed his memories from Cael one piece at a time.
It was around the 1940's when Cedric found he had changed. Haunted by memories of abandoning his
people, he decided that he wouldn't be a coward any longer, and he set out in hopes of finding
other rulers that had been reborn. But humanity had advanced significantly in the centuries since
he had left, and his efforts to discover other Caelings was hampered by this fact.
Cedric got a job, and once he had gotten used to the world, he began searching everywhere for
people like himself. Going from place to place, getting work wherever he could find it, his
search came up empty. Until the day he got a mysterious letter from Xander Fo.
Other: Nope))
((Accepted. I'll wait to post until your character is introduced.))
(QUESTION: Once we learn more about Gehenna, and the Evil Rulers, would I be allowed to create an Evil Character?)
(FOLLOW UP QUESTION: We've learned a decent amount about them, so would we be able to go ahead and create an Evil Character?)
((Sorry, no Gehenna characters. Don't worry though, they will be making their appearances very, very soon.))
Xander let out an undignified snort when he heard that Percy had directed Jacob to him. Percy wasn't the most 'street smart' of Xander's colleagues, but he had an affinity to get the job done. Which proved useful time and time again. And as much as the old man pestered him, he really was a good little worker.
Xander shuts the door with a resonating clang, turning his irritable gaze to Jacob. Jacob asks about Cael and Xander almost snappily refuses him, he had dealt with enough lately. Instead however, he sighs wearily and runs a hand through his hair, now hanging loose against his upper back.
"The others aren't up yet. I suppose we have time for a quick explanation."
Xander repeats his little speech about Cael from earlier, moving around the warehouse as he does so. It is clear from his tone that he is still in an awful mood. His voice echoes loudly as he steps into the storage room, still continuing to speak. He returns with a small locked wooden box in his left hand and his large metal mace in the other. Xander sets both items on a table beside the couches and wraps up his speech.
He turns suddenly and gestures at the large tapestry hanging on the wall, "This is an old artist's representation of The Eversio System. Although, it is a poor representation." The last part is spit out quietly to himself.
Turning his glare back to Jacob, he all but growls out, "Now. Any questions before we continue?"
<~><~><~><~><~>
**The Bunker**
Two figures are seen silhouetted in front of large blinking computer monitors. One is a tall male with a low fedora and a long coat. The other is a female, hair pulled back tightly into a professional looking knot. She carries a tablet and wears an earpiece, which she constantly readjusts at intervals. The man speaks first.
"They should be on their way anytime. Ready the squadron."
"Yes, sir. Should we move Catarina for their arrival?"
"No, she's been given strict instructions to stay in her room and not make any kind of contact with Xander."
"The squadron has been alerted, sir. They're on their way."
"Wonderful. Have them meet me in the briefing room. Their full instructions will be given there."
"Yes, sir. Is there anything else you'll be needing."
"Have someone posted outside Catarina's door, just in case. They'll be here for Alya, but one can never be too careful."
"Of course, sir. I'll have Alya prepped to leave."
"Oh, and Ms. Santigo? One more thing."
"Yes, sir?"
"If Xander or one of his little Caelings do happen to reach one of the control rooms, I'm trusting you to take care of it. No matter what."
"Of course, sir. Now, go. You can count on us."
"I'll back tomorrow to check up. Pray that I am not disappointed."
The man leaves the small illuminated room a flurry of fabric, leaving the woman alone. She types something on her tablet quickly before briskly walking out of the room, now speaking a harsh language into her earpiece. Two heavily armed men and a woman in a lab coat take her place near the monitors as she leaves.
Xander swiftly opens the first aid kit, taking out an antiseptic and a role of white gauze. He quickly cleans the wound and pushes the gauze against the kid's injury, clotting the blood. He also wraps the gauze tightly around his head, keeping the fixed pressure. Xander's hands are bloody from dealing with the injury and he curses as he notices the blood on his shirt also, he had just previously changed his shirt for the same reason.
He gets up from his position over the couch and quickly steps over to the kitchen, filling a glass of water. When he returns with it, it appears as if the child has woken up. Seeing the panic clear on the kid's face, Xander expression becomes carefully neutral and he pushes the glass into the kid's hands.
"Drink this-" He is sudden to cut off by a loud knocking sound, seemingly amplified by the large warehouse. He turns towards the door and scowls at it before stomping over, his steps echoing loudly.
He reaches the door and forcefully wrenches it open, "For God's sake, Percy-" Xander's vehement exclamation is cut off as he sees that the man at the door is in fact, not Percy. Instead, he is greeted by the sight of Jacob Stratham, one of the Caelings who was late to join their merry little band. He makes no move to hide his bloodstained hands, nor his shirt. Xander instead moves to the side, no longer blocking the door with his bulky form, a sign for Jacob to enter.
((I'm guessing you didn't see my reply? I'd deeply prefer it if you didn't interact with that specific character. He's going to have a much larger role later on and his 'entrance' to the characters is very important. If you could just change it to someone else in the park, I'd be happy to write up an NPC reply.))
Xander emerges from the storage room, scowling, as he hears sounds of distress. He is greeted by the sight of three figures. Alorian, Alex he reminds himself, is bent over what appeared to be the body of a child while Nathan is attempting to get Xander's attention.
Xander walks impatiently over to where the child is and huffs out, "Damn kids."
He kneels down beside the child and notices the state that Alex is in. His breathing is heavy and his eyes seem to be out of focus. When the expression passes, Xander gives him a knowing look and turns to the unconscious child.
A small pool of blood was starting to pool under the kid's head and Xander put his index finger into it, examining the small trace of blood. "That's not good." He mutters to himself.
He puts his arms under the child, lifting him up with surprising gentleness. "There's a first aid kit in the storage room." Xander calls out to the two others as he carries the child over to an unoccupied sofa. He supports the child's head with his large hand, an angry frown on his face. He recognized the kid as one of the Caelings that was late to show up.
He'd find out why Kyle Serenadon was hiding when he woke up.
<><><><><><><>
"I did have a delayed flight, yes. I've been looking for Mr. Fo for quite a while, actually. I didn't expect one of his men to find me instead." Mr. Stratham said in response. "Perhaps you can bring me to him? Or at the very least, point me in his direction?"
Percy shrugged at the first part of his reply, an unnerving smile still on his face, "We keep tabs."
He grabbed a white paper napkin from beside Mr. Stratham's plate, along with a black ink pen from his ratted jacket. He jotted down an address in Queens. If anyone were to follow the address, they would find themself at what appeared to be a rundown warehouse, although it was anything but. Percy turned the napkin and slid it over to Mr. Startham, placing the pen back into his jacket.
On the napkin, in bleeding black ink and scrawling handwriting was written the following address. 40-01 24TH ST, QUEENS, NY 11101
((Fun fact: a warehouse does actually exist at this location.))
Percy rose from his seat, face splitting with a cheery smile, "Excuse me, Mr. Stratham, but I'll be off now. Got some errands to run." He secured a battered cap to his head, "Mr. Fo will be so very pleased to see you."
He toddled away from the table and exited the diner, the bell tinkling as the door opens and closes. Percy fades from sight as he steps out onto the street and travels into the crowd.
A loud bang echoes throughout the warehouse, signaling the return of Xander Fo. The doors are thrown open forcefully and he comes stalking in. Xander is evidently in an unpleasant mood as he shouts for everyone to wake up before going straight to the storage room, a scowl firmly fixed on his face. He can be heard muttering to himself in a different language, harsh words falling from his mouth like curses.
<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>
Beams of sunlight struggle to pass through covered windows and black drapery. Dust collects on windowsills and other select surfaces in a small dark room. Black and burgundy floral wallpaper has been pasted onto the walls, dark grey tile sits on the floor. The only light in the room comes from the ceiling light and a small lamp beside what appears to be a hospital bed. The lamp sits on a dark table, along with a single white lily in a cup of water. The room is devoid of any other decor, obviously temporary and hastily thrown together. The space smells of antiseptic and a heart monitor beats steadily in the heavy silence.
Two people occupy the room, one in the bed and one sitting in a black armchair beside it. The one sitting in the armchair is male, probably in his late forties, with sweeping black hair and a strong jawline. Stubble has grown around his jaw and a faint scar runs over his left eye. His eyes are a dark brown color, almost black in the dim room, and they show great and cunning intelligence. The man wears a long black coat that sweeps just under his knees. Black slacks and dress shoes can be seen underneath. A black fedora sits in his lap as he sits patiently, watching the figure in the bed's chest rise and fall weakly with each breath.
The figure in the bed is a female one, she is unconscious and her breathing is obviously labored. Bruises and cuts color her face, a particularly nasty gash runs along the left side, reaching from her temple to the corner of her mouth. Short platinum blonde hair is spread on the stark white pillow her head rests on. White sheets cover below her torso and she is wearing a light blue hospital gown, although she is not in a hospital. Her slight arms rest atop the sheets, strikingly pale where they aren't covered in bruises. The woman's chest rises faintly as she takes shaky breaths, a heart monitor and an IV is attached to her, along with several other tubes. The monitor beats steadily, accompanied by the sound of the IV dripping.
The woman shifts, letting out a pained gasp before her eyes flutter open. Strikingly blue eyes hazily gaze around the room before they land on the man sitting beside the bed. Confusion crosses the woman's face when she see him and she weakly speaks out, her voice is dry and rough and her speech comes out slightly slurred, "Am I dead?"
The man seems to chuckle at her question, taking the glass of water from the bedside table and supporting it for her. "You were close Catarina. Very close."
The woman, Catarina, gratefully takes the water and the man sits back. He watches her painfully sit up and sip at the water, the ghost of a smile on his lips, "Welcome back."
Catarina silently examines the room they're in, her face showing no sign of recognition, "Where are we?"
"The Bunker."
Her eyebrows furrow as she glances somewhat suspiciously at the man, "Isn't this where Alya is being held?"
The man's face is grim as he speaks, "Yes, she's downstairs. However, we found you bleeding out and this was the first place we could get you to."
An eyebrow is raised, "We?" A pause, "Does Xander know?"
The man's eyes seem to soften, "He thinks you're dead. It is best that way. As soon as you're healed you will be reassigned in Moscow."
Tears begin to well up in Catarina's eyes, whether it's due to the emotion, the pain, or the medication is unclear. "I thought that we maybe could've started over, once all of this was over."
"For him, it will never be over." The man says, not unkindly.
Catarina nods almost imperceptibly and speaks softly, "He can only put his effort into one cause at a time." She laughs bitterly, "And this time, the cause isn't me."
The man rises from the chair and puts his fedora back on, his voice leaves no room for argument, "Get some rest, Catarina. You've been through a lot."
She says nothing as he leaves and closes the door behind him, the soft click of a lock soon following. The faint sound of footsteps trails after him until Catarina finds herself straining to hear them. Now completely alone, she looks at the single lily beside her bed and when she speaks out loud, her voice is only a whisper, "Yes, Mr. Dolus."
Percy's smile seems to grow even wider as Mr. Stratham peers at him. He has an air of polite confusions as he sets aside his cutlery to address Percy, meal forgotten.
"I'msorry,have we met?" Mr. Stratham asks him.
Percy hums and waves dismissively, grinning at the man like he knows something that he doesn't, "Probably."
He laces his hands together in a businesslike manner and sets them on the table. His voice has a more serious tone to it now. "My name is Percy. Just Percy. I represent Mr. XanderFo and his associates."
Well, actually he didn't exactly represent them, more like worked for them, not that the little detail mattered right now. "I assumethat you received Mr. Fo's letter," Percy squints in an accusing matter, "Andyet you are not with him. Did you miss your flight, Mr. Stratham?"
Percy was a man of simplicity. It was obvious in everything he did, the name he chose, even how he composed himself. He didn't have a surname, he didn't need the hassle of remembering two whole Earth names, not when he had so much work to do. When he had first awoken on this godforsaken planet he found himself lost, wandering aimlessly, searching for something he couldn't find. It was on his wanderings that he found Xander Fo. Or rather, Xander Fo found him.
Percy had been nameless, homeless and meaningless before he met Mr. Fo. He didn't have a purpose before he took Percy under his wing and carried him along. It was quite a experience, especially receiving a name, but he developed an utmost loyalty to Xander Fo. He looked up to the man, both figuratively and literally, and idolized him. Whenever Mr. Fo needed something, there Percy was. If Mr. Fo needed a dangerous package picked up, Percy was trusted to do it. And if Mr. Fo needed to be told bad news, well, Percy had to pray that he would have enough sense to not shoot the messenger.
Percy had never really been a fan of Miss Catarina Listig, not that he ever voiced this thought aloud. She was quick and cunning, with unearthly beauty and a heart of ice. Exactly Mr. Fo's type. So, when Mr. Fo and Miss Catarina entered an exclusive relationship, Percy minded his own business and simply did his job. And if Percy was relieved when the relationship ended, nobody had to know. She wasn't good for Mr. Fo, even if he didn't like to hear it. Percy knew that Mr. Fo had still harbored feelings for Miss Catarina afterwards, so when he had to be the bearer of bad news, needless to say, he wasn't impressed.
Percy had never been one for love. He certainly would never find it, he was too dedicated to his job, not to mention his appearance. He appeared in his mid fifties, although he was much stronger and more capable, with wild brown hair streaked with grey. His eyes were a watery blue color, always seeming to be squinting. He was short and stout, often clothed in rags to keep up with his disguise.
The whole talk about Miss Catarina had gone better than Percy expected. He expected for Mr. Fo to at least break something when he heard of Miss Catarina's death, but instead he just excused himself and left the diner in quite a hurry. Percy pitied the poor souls on the other end of his bad mood today.
Percy was then left sitting in the big booth, sipping at a black coffee and reading the comics in the newspaper that Mr. Fo left behind. He was chuckling at the adventures of the zany cat featured on the prominent panel when the bell of the diner jingled, signaling a new customer. Percy glanced up, thinking maybe that it was Mr. Fo coming back for his newspaper. Instead, he was surprised to see one of the Caelings. Percy recognized him from the files. Jacob Stratham.
Percy wondered why he wasn't with the others, he thought that Mr. Fo had gathered all of them up. He supposed that this one was just a straggler. He should probably assist him, then. Mr. Fo was sure to be pleased with him if he helped this lost Caeling find his destination.
He smiled to himself, Mr. Fo would be very pleased indeed. Percy took a last swig of his coffee before toddling over to where the Caeling sat. He plopped down in front of him, a smile splitting his face, "You look a like you're a long way from home, Mr. Stratham."
Quinn silently followed the staff member into the now unlocked room. She approached warily, ready to spring, fully knowing that this could be a trap. The room they were lead to was full of safety deposit boxes and the staff member opened a large box once everyone was inside. Taken out of this box were three dark guns and what appeared to be earpiece transmitters. The items were offered to them and Quinn felt a coil of anxiety start to grow in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't at all a marksman and had only shot a gun once or twice. Preferring to use the power of her body, she never had an interest in messy guns. They were loud and obvious, and they left evidence behind.
She dully wonders why firearms were supplied. If this was an assassination mission, they could do it a whole lot easier without the guns. With something else, the kill could
be cleaner, more controlled. She had never killed a man before, although she had pretty close on more than several occasions. Quinn doubted that they were recruited to kill someone though.
Quinn doesn't take one of the guns, she doubted that she would use it anyways unless she absolutely had to. She noted that there were only three guns handed out, the thee girl with them did not receive one. This raised an immediate red flag in her mind. The girl was either too skilled to need one, she wasn't part of their group, or she already had one. The thought caused her change her stance once again into a more defensive one, ready to move.
Quinn picked up one of the earpieces from the table and looked it over before raising it to her right ear. She set it in the correct positron, brushing over her cartilage piercings. She held her surprise as a message was read out in her ear, relaying specific instructions. The message sounded strange in her ears, each word being read out in a different voice. Quinn was impressed at the lengths someone had gone to to remain anonymous. She could respect that.
An employee walks in the small room again and leaves a black briefcase. It looked innocent by itself, but Quinn knew first hand that looks could be deceiving.
The sounds of gunshot startle Quinn out of her reverie and she internally scolds herself for not paying attention. However, her position changes immediately, alert and ready to move. Her stance is one of a trained fighter as she sees the others draw their firearms.
Quinn isn't exactly fazed by the commotion, but she can tell that the men rushing into the building were clearly chosen for their skills. For a fleeting panic filled moment, it occurs to her that they could be police. A second glance to their suits and the mass of innocent bodies reassures her otherwise. Although, maybe reassure isn't the right word. Going back to jail would be better than being killed by skilled mercenaries.
One of the men from their little group is waiting by the door for everyone. Quinn nimbly steps over to him, readjusting her stance for better defense. She gives the man a quick nod when he asks if the group is rest to go. She'd have to yell to be heard over the commotion, and the pain in her jaw is coming back anyways.
Quinn turns her attention back to the scene in front of her and notices that the girl from their group doesn't appear to be frightened by the situation. She looks about Quinn's age and Quinn quickly wonders what happened to the poor girl that would render her calm in such a situation. Although, others would wonder the same of Quinn, she only shows strong emotion when she sees the young employees of the Crowford Bank fall to the ground with a familiar thud. She winces as each young life is lost.
0
Xander turned on Jacob when a question was asked and all but glared at him,
"I have learnt all of this, boy, because I was there when the strength of Eversio failed. I was there when the Creator turned his back on us and let us die."
He scowled at everyone in turn, "None of you remember everything. None of you remember all of the pain and suffering of my people."
His posture was ridged as he stopped, irritation and anger blatant on his face. Xander's scar seemed to stand out on his face more now, the jagged line contrasting with his livid expression.
Xander took a breath. Seemingly to calm himself, and spoke again,
"Gather your belongings, we'll be leaving shortly. Bring anything that you don't want to leave behind, leave anything that you can live without. It's likely that once we retrieve Alya, we won't be coming back to this location."
<><><><><><><>
((Percy to the rescue))
Percy sat on a wooden bench as he watched the comings and goings of the common folk. He enjoyed watching the little games of the human children, and the way their petty parents would run after them. It was peaceful here, and it was a welcome change. Running errands for Mr. Fo wasn't exactly the calmest lifestyle, nor the easiest.
Just last week, Percy had almost been killed while retrieving a package. He didn't know what was so special about it, just a box in plain brown paper. But, Mr. Fo demanded that it be carried with the utmost caution. So, that's what Percy did. He was, after all, very good at his job.
Two people suddenly caught Percy's attention, just out of his peripheral view. He turned to see them more clearly, but kept his head down beneath his cap. To anyone watching, he would appear as a beggar sleeping on a park bench. He continued to watch the two figures and saw what appeared to be a flurry of paper. Along with that paper, he noticed a very familiar wax stamp.
He grinned beneath the cap, realizing that these were the last two Caelings that still needed to join Xander. Percy checked his watched, he was scheduled to receive a pick up in ten minutes. Not enough time to talk to the Caelings, then. He quickly reached into his coat, drawing out a pen and a small slip of paper. On this paper he quickly wrote,
Xander Fo, Cael, Hurry
40-01 24TH ST, QUEENS, NY 11101
Percy jumped up from his spot on the bench and walked towards the duo. He quickly brushed past the older one while simultaneously shoving the folded up paper into his hand. Percy kept walking hurriedly, and soon stepped out of the park and onto the street, disappearing into the crowd.
0
((I don't mean to rush or pressure anyone, but I'm waiting for all characters to gather in the warehouse so Xander can explain what's next. I won't wait much longer though as the story must be progressed.))
0
((I'd say that would be fine. It would most likely be an ability for both Aegis and Astrum that could be developed later.))
1
((Inhabitants of Gehenna are known as Gehennians and inhabitants of Ultio are known as Ultions. As for Cael, the correct term is Caelans. Caeling is somewhat of a derogatory term, often used in a more mocking sense.))
((Accepted. I'll wait to post until your character is introduced.))
0
((Sorry, no Gehenna characters. Don't worry though, they will be making their appearances very, very soon.))
0
Xander let out an undignified snort when he heard that Percy had directed Jacob to him. Percy wasn't the most 'street smart' of Xander's colleagues, but he had an affinity to get the job done. Which proved useful time and time again. And as much as the old man pestered him, he really was a good little worker.
Xander shuts the door with a resonating clang, turning his irritable gaze to Jacob. Jacob asks about Cael and Xander almost snappily refuses him, he had dealt with enough lately. Instead however, he sighs wearily and runs a hand through his hair, now hanging loose against his upper back.
"The others aren't up yet. I suppose we have time for a quick explanation."
Xander repeats his little speech about Cael from earlier, moving around the warehouse as he does so. It is clear from his tone that he is still in an awful mood. His voice echoes loudly as he steps into the storage room, still continuing to speak. He returns with a small locked wooden box in his left hand and his large metal mace in the other. Xander sets both items on a table beside the couches and wraps up his speech.
He turns suddenly and gestures at the large tapestry hanging on the wall, "This is an old artist's representation of The Eversio System. Although, it is a poor representation." The last part is spit out quietly to himself.
Turning his glare back to Jacob, he all but growls out, "Now. Any questions before we continue?"
<~><~><~><~><~>
**The Bunker**
Two figures are seen silhouetted in front of large blinking computer monitors. One is a tall male with a low fedora and a long coat. The other is a female, hair pulled back tightly into a professional looking knot. She carries a tablet and wears an earpiece, which she constantly readjusts at intervals. The man speaks first.
"They should be on their way anytime. Ready the squadron."
"Yes, sir. Should we move Catarina for their arrival?"
"No, she's been given strict instructions to stay in her room and not make any kind of contact with Xander."
"The squadron has been alerted, sir. They're on their way."
"Wonderful. Have them meet me in the briefing room. Their full instructions will be given there."
"Yes, sir. Is there anything else you'll be needing."
"Have someone posted outside Catarina's door, just in case. They'll be here for Alya, but one can never be too careful."
"Of course, sir. I'll have Alya prepped to leave."
"Oh, and Ms. Santigo? One more thing."
"Yes, sir?"
"If Xander or one of his little Caelings do happen to reach one of the control rooms, I'm trusting you to take care of it. No matter what."
"Of course, sir. Now, go. You can count on us."
"I'll back tomorrow to check up. Pray that I am not disappointed."
The man leaves the small illuminated room a flurry of fabric, leaving the woman alone. She types something on her tablet quickly before briskly walking out of the room, now speaking a harsh language into her earpiece. Two heavily armed men and a woman in a lab coat take her place near the monitors as she leaves.
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((I was waiting for Rainbow_Girl's character to join us, not to mention my hectic school year starting up. My post should be up later today.))
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Xander swiftly opens the first aid kit, taking out an antiseptic and a role of white gauze. He quickly cleans the wound and pushes the gauze against the kid's injury, clotting the blood. He also wraps the gauze tightly around his head, keeping the fixed pressure. Xander's hands are bloody from dealing with the injury and he curses as he notices the blood on his shirt also, he had just previously changed his shirt for the same reason.
He gets up from his position over the couch and quickly steps over to the kitchen, filling a glass of water. When he returns with it, it appears as if the child has woken up. Seeing the panic clear on the kid's face, Xander expression becomes carefully neutral and he pushes the glass into the kid's hands.
"Drink this-" He is sudden to cut off by a loud knocking sound, seemingly amplified by the large warehouse. He turns towards the door and scowls at it before stomping over, his steps echoing loudly.
He reaches the door and forcefully wrenches it open, "For God's sake, Percy-" Xander's vehement exclamation is cut off as he sees that the man at the door is in fact, not Percy. Instead, he is greeted by the sight of Jacob Stratham, one of the Caelings who was late to join their merry little band. He makes no move to hide his bloodstained hands, nor his shirt. Xander instead moves to the side, no longer blocking the door with his bulky form, a sign for Jacob to enter.
Xander frowns at him, "You're late."
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((I'm still interested in this also.))
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((I'm guessing you didn't see my reply? I'd deeply prefer it if you didn't interact with that specific character. He's going to have a much larger role later on and his 'entrance' to the characters is very important. If you could just change it to someone else in the park, I'd be happy to write up an NPC reply.))
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Xander emerges from the storage room, scowling, as he hears sounds of distress. He is greeted by the sight of three figures. Alorian, Alex he reminds himself, is bent over what appeared to be the body of a child while Nathan is attempting to get Xander's attention.
Xander walks impatiently over to where the child is and huffs out, "Damn kids."
He kneels down beside the child and notices the state that Alex is in. His breathing is heavy and his eyes seem to be out of focus. When the expression passes, Xander gives him a knowing look and turns to the unconscious child.
A small pool of blood was starting to pool under the kid's head and Xander put his index finger into it, examining the small trace of blood. "That's not good." He mutters to himself.
He puts his arms under the child, lifting him up with surprising gentleness. "There's a first aid kit in the storage room." Xander calls out to the two others as he carries the child over to an unoccupied sofa. He supports the child's head with his large hand, an angry frown on his face. He recognized the kid as one of the Caelings that was late to show up.
He'd find out why Kyle Serenadon was hiding when he woke up.
<><><><><><><>
"I did have a delayed flight, yes. I've been looking for Mr. Fo for quite a while, actually. I didn't expect one of his men to find me instead." Mr. Stratham said in response. "Perhaps you can bring me to him? Or at the very least, point me in his direction?"
Percy shrugged at the first part of his reply, an unnerving smile still on his face, "We keep tabs."
He grabbed a white paper napkin from beside Mr. Stratham's plate, along with a black ink pen from his ratted jacket. He jotted down an address in Queens. If anyone were to follow the address, they would find themself at what appeared to be a rundown warehouse, although it was anything but. Percy turned the napkin and slid it over to Mr. Startham, placing the pen back into his jacket.
On the napkin, in bleeding black ink and scrawling handwriting was written the following address. 40-01 24TH ST, QUEENS, NY 11101
((Fun fact: a warehouse does actually exist at this location.))
Percy rose from his seat, face splitting with a cheery smile, "Excuse me, Mr. Stratham, but I'll be off now. Got some errands to run." He secured a battered cap to his head, "Mr. Fo will be so very pleased to see you."
He toddled away from the table and exited the diner, the bell tinkling as the door opens and closes. Percy fades from sight as he steps out onto the street and travels into the crowd.
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A loud bang echoes throughout the warehouse, signaling the return of Xander Fo. The doors are thrown open forcefully and he comes stalking in. Xander is evidently in an unpleasant mood as he shouts for everyone to wake up before going straight to the storage room, a scowl firmly fixed on his face. He can be heard muttering to himself in a different language, harsh words falling from his mouth like curses.
<>•<>•<>•<>•<>•<>
Beams of sunlight struggle to pass through covered windows and black drapery. Dust collects on windowsills and other select surfaces in a small dark room. Black and burgundy floral wallpaper has been pasted onto the walls, dark grey tile sits on the floor. The only light in the room comes from the ceiling light and a small lamp beside what appears to be a hospital bed. The lamp sits on a dark table, along with a single white lily in a cup of water. The room is devoid of any other decor, obviously temporary and hastily thrown together. The space smells of antiseptic and a heart monitor beats steadily in the heavy silence.
Two people occupy the room, one in the bed and one sitting in a black armchair beside it. The one sitting in the armchair is male, probably in his late forties, with sweeping black hair and a strong jawline. Stubble has grown around his jaw and a faint scar runs over his left eye. His eyes are a dark brown color, almost black in the dim room, and they show great and cunning intelligence. The man wears a long black coat that sweeps just under his knees. Black slacks and dress shoes can be seen underneath. A black fedora sits in his lap as he sits patiently, watching the figure in the bed's chest rise and fall weakly with each breath.
The figure in the bed is a female one, she is unconscious and her breathing is obviously labored. Bruises and cuts color her face, a particularly nasty gash runs along the left side, reaching from her temple to the corner of her mouth. Short platinum blonde hair is spread on the stark white pillow her head rests on. White sheets cover below her torso and she is wearing a light blue hospital gown, although she is not in a hospital. Her slight arms rest atop the sheets, strikingly pale where they aren't covered in bruises. The woman's chest rises faintly as she takes shaky breaths, a heart monitor and an IV is attached to her, along with several other tubes. The monitor beats steadily, accompanied by the sound of the IV dripping.
The woman shifts, letting out a pained gasp before her eyes flutter open. Strikingly blue eyes hazily gaze around the room before they land on the man sitting beside the bed. Confusion crosses the woman's face when she see him and she weakly speaks out, her voice is dry and rough and her speech comes out slightly slurred, "Am I dead?"
The man seems to chuckle at her question, taking the glass of water from the bedside table and supporting it for her. "You were close Catarina. Very close."
The woman, Catarina, gratefully takes the water and the man sits back. He watches her painfully sit up and sip at the water, the ghost of a smile on his lips, "Welcome back."
Catarina silently examines the room they're in, her face showing no sign of recognition, "Where are we?"
"The Bunker."
Her eyebrows furrow as she glances somewhat suspiciously at the man, "Isn't this where Alya is being held?"
The man's face is grim as he speaks, "Yes, she's downstairs. However, we found you bleeding out and this was the first place we could get you to."
An eyebrow is raised, "We?" A pause, "Does Xander know?"
The man's eyes seem to soften, "He thinks you're dead. It is best that way. As soon as you're healed you will be reassigned in Moscow."
Tears begin to well up in Catarina's eyes, whether it's due to the emotion, the pain, or the medication is unclear. "I thought that we maybe could've started over, once all of this was over."
"For him, it will never be over." The man says, not unkindly.
Catarina nods almost imperceptibly and speaks softly, "He can only put his effort into one cause at a time." She laughs bitterly, "And this time, the cause isn't me."
The man rises from the chair and puts his fedora back on, his voice leaves no room for argument, "Get some rest, Catarina. You've been through a lot."
She says nothing as he leaves and closes the door behind him, the soft click of a lock soon following. The faint sound of footsteps trails after him until Catarina finds herself straining to hear them. Now completely alone, she looks at the single lily beside her bed and when she speaks out loud, her voice is only a whisper, "Yes, Mr. Dolus."
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Percy's smile seems to grow even wider as Mr. Stratham peers at him. He has an air of polite confusions as he sets aside his cutlery to address Percy, meal forgotten.
"I'm sorry, have we met?" Mr. Stratham asks him.
Percy hums and waves dismissively, grinning at the man like he knows something that he doesn't, "Probably."
He laces his hands together in a businesslike manner and sets them on the table. His voice has a more serious tone to it now. "My name is Percy. Just Percy. I represent Mr. Xander Fo and his associates."
Well, actually he didn't exactly represent them, more like worked for them, not that the little detail mattered right now. "I assume that you received Mr. Fo's letter," Percy squints in an accusing matter, "And yet you are not with him. Did you miss your flight, Mr. Stratham?"
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Percy was a man of simplicity. It was obvious in everything he did, the name he chose, even how he composed himself. He didn't have a surname, he didn't need the hassle of remembering two whole Earth names, not when he had so much work to do. When he had first awoken on this godforsaken planet he found himself lost, wandering aimlessly, searching for something he couldn't find. It was on his wanderings that he found Xander Fo. Or rather, Xander Fo found him.
Percy had been nameless, homeless and meaningless before he met Mr. Fo. He didn't have a purpose before he took Percy under his wing and carried him along. It was quite a experience, especially receiving a name, but he developed an utmost loyalty to Xander Fo. He looked up to the man, both figuratively and literally, and idolized him. Whenever Mr. Fo needed something, there Percy was. If Mr. Fo needed a dangerous package picked up, Percy was trusted to do it. And if Mr. Fo needed to be told bad news, well, Percy had to pray that he would have enough sense to not shoot the messenger.
Percy had never really been a fan of Miss Catarina Listig, not that he ever voiced this thought aloud. She was quick and cunning, with unearthly beauty and a heart of ice. Exactly Mr. Fo's type. So, when Mr. Fo and Miss Catarina entered an exclusive relationship, Percy minded his own business and simply did his job. And if Percy was relieved when the relationship ended, nobody had to know. She wasn't good for Mr. Fo, even if he didn't like to hear it. Percy knew that Mr. Fo had still harbored feelings for Miss Catarina afterwards, so when he had to be the bearer of bad news, needless to say, he wasn't impressed.
Percy had never been one for love. He certainly would never find it, he was too dedicated to his job, not to mention his appearance. He appeared in his mid fifties, although he was much stronger and more capable, with wild brown hair streaked with grey. His eyes were a watery blue color, always seeming to be squinting. He was short and stout, often clothed in rags to keep up with his disguise.
The whole talk about Miss Catarina had gone better than Percy expected. He expected for Mr. Fo to at least break something when he heard of Miss Catarina's death, but instead he just excused himself and left the diner in quite a hurry. Percy pitied the poor souls on the other end of his bad mood today.
Percy was then left sitting in the big booth, sipping at a black coffee and reading the comics in the newspaper that Mr. Fo left behind. He was chuckling at the adventures of the zany cat featured on the prominent panel when the bell of the diner jingled, signaling a new customer. Percy glanced up, thinking maybe that it was Mr. Fo coming back for his newspaper. Instead, he was surprised to see one of the Caelings. Percy recognized him from the files. Jacob Stratham.
Percy wondered why he wasn't with the others, he thought that Mr. Fo had gathered all of them up. He supposed that this one was just a straggler. He should probably assist him, then. Mr. Fo was sure to be pleased with him if he helped this lost Caeling find his destination.
He smiled to himself, Mr. Fo would be very pleased indeed. Percy took a last swig of his coffee before toddling over to where the Caeling sat. He plopped down in front of him, a smile splitting his face, "You look a like you're a long way from home, Mr. Stratham."
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((My apologies for the delay also.))
Quinn silently followed the staff member into the now unlocked room. She approached warily, ready to spring, fully knowing that this could be a trap. The room they were lead to was full of safety deposit boxes and the staff member opened a large box once everyone was inside. Taken out of this box were three dark guns and what appeared to be earpiece transmitters. The items were offered to them and Quinn felt a coil of anxiety start to grow in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't at all a marksman and had only shot a gun once or twice. Preferring to use the power of her body, she never had an interest in messy guns. They were loud and obvious, and they left evidence behind.
She dully wonders why firearms were supplied. If this was an assassination mission, they could do it a whole lot easier without the guns. With something else, the kill could
be cleaner, more controlled. She had never killed a man before, although she had pretty close on more than several occasions. Quinn doubted that they were recruited to kill someone though.
Quinn doesn't take one of the guns, she doubted that she would use it anyways unless she absolutely had to. She noted that there were only three guns handed out, the thee girl with them did not receive one. This raised an immediate red flag in her mind. The girl was either too skilled to need one, she wasn't part of their group, or she already had one. The thought caused her change her stance once again into a more defensive one, ready to move.
Quinn picked up one of the earpieces from the table and looked it over before raising it to her right ear. She set it in the correct positron, brushing over her cartilage piercings. She held her surprise as a message was read out in her ear, relaying specific instructions. The message sounded strange in her ears, each word being read out in a different voice. Quinn was impressed at the lengths someone had gone to to remain anonymous. She could respect that.
An employee walks in the small room again and leaves a black briefcase. It looked innocent by itself, but Quinn knew first hand that looks could be deceiving.
The sounds of gunshot startle Quinn out of her reverie and she internally scolds herself for not paying attention. However, her position changes immediately, alert and ready to move. Her stance is one of a trained fighter as she sees the others draw their firearms.
Quinn isn't exactly fazed by the commotion, but she can tell that the men rushing into the building were clearly chosen for their skills. For a fleeting panic filled moment, it occurs to her that they could be police. A second glance to their suits and the mass of innocent bodies reassures her otherwise. Although, maybe reassure isn't the right word. Going back to jail would be better than being killed by skilled mercenaries.
One of the men from their little group is waiting by the door for everyone. Quinn nimbly steps over to him, readjusting her stance for better defense. She gives the man a quick nod when he asks if the group is rest to go. She'd have to yell to be heard over the commotion, and the pain in her jaw is coming back anyways.
Quinn turns her attention back to the scene in front of her and notices that the girl from their group doesn't appear to be frightened by the situation. She looks about Quinn's age and Quinn quickly wonders what happened to the poor girl that would render her calm in such a situation. Although, others would wonder the same of Quinn, she only shows strong emotion when she sees the young employees of the Crowford Bank fall to the ground with a familiar thud. She winces as each young life is lost.