R: 18 / I: 79
>Time: 12:30 PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - Financial District
>Sirens roar loudly as MRD hovercraft quickly fly across the sky, moving towards a collection of burning fires in the distance. Inside of the lead hovercraft, an MRD agent talks over their comms network:
"Gamma to base. We've got a mark on three Brigadiers. B-level Meta-Humans. They've got the spikes of the T-Cell grafting."
>From the other side of the call, the operator speaks.
{"Tension? You're sure of it? They've got his spikes?"}
>The MRD agent nods slowly.
"Yep. I'd recognize them anywhere. The guy's a maniac, but he's damn well recognizable by his spikes. We'll move in to intercept."
>The operator replies.
{"Negative, Gamma. We've got orders from Dynamo to hang back until he gets there. Set up a blockade a few blocks wide, the rest of the department's forces are already en route."}
>Scowling behind his helmet, the MRD agent looks at his partner, shaking his head.
"You heard 'em. We're laying low for now."
>After a few moments, a sound emanates from the central control panel of the hovercraft. Confused, the MRD agents both lean forward as they recognize the signature.
"No way.."
"Holy shit. He's here."
>Looking at each other, the MRD agents then get excited.
"Man. I've really wanted to see him work up close."
"You're telling me? This'll be good."
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
[Event] - "Cogitation"
>Date: September 20th, 2017>Time: 12:30 PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - Financial District
>Sirens roar loudly as MRD hovercraft quickly fly across the sky, moving towards a collection of burning fires in the distance. Inside of the lead hovercraft, an MRD agent talks over their comms network:
"Gamma to base. We've got a mark on three Brigadiers. B-level Meta-Humans. They've got the spikes of the T-Cell grafting."
>From the other side of the call, the operator speaks.
{"Tension? You're sure of it? They've got his spikes?"}
>The MRD agent nods slowly.
"Yep. I'd recognize them anywhere. The guy's a maniac, but he's damn well recognizable by his spikes. We'll move in to intercept."
>The operator replies.
{"Negative, Gamma. We've got orders from Dynamo to hang back until he gets there. Set up a blockade a few blocks wide, the rest of the department's forces are already en route."}
>Scowling behind his helmet, the MRD agent looks at his partner, shaking his head.
"You heard 'em. We're laying low for now."
>After a few moments, a sound emanates from the central control panel of the hovercraft. Confused, the MRD agents both lean forward as they recognize the signature.
"No way.."
"Holy shit. He's here."
>Looking at each other, the MRD agents then get excited.
"Man. I've really wanted to see him work up close."
"You're telling me? This'll be good."
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
R: 64 / I: 180
>Time: 1:00 PM
>Location: Interdimensional Magic Bazaar
>The bazaar is as crowded as usual, full of mages of all kinds from an almost unimaginable number of worlds.
"Tabitha! How's it going!?"
>An older man calls out from his stall towards an attractive young woman with deep red, waist length hair. The woman simply nods in the man's direction as she walks by.
"Fine. Good to see you today."
>The woman continues maneuvering her way through the crowd, occasionally waving at and greeting people. This continues on for a while, before she makes a stop at a small stand.
>Various dusty tomes and books line the counter and back walls of the small building, with an almost equally old looking woman standing behind the counter.
"Ah. Miss Tabitha. So good to see you."
>Tabitha nods at the woman, before turning her gaze towards the various tomes on display.
"You too."
>Tabitha examines the various books, occasionally picking them up and skimming through their pages. The older woman allows her to quietly look at her merchandise for a few minutes, before finally asking:
"Is there anything you're looking for in particular, dear?"
>Tabitha looks at the older woman.
"Yes, actually. Do you have anything on… astral communication?"
>The woman puts her finger to her chin, thinking.
"Hmm… I'm not sure. I don't usually carry those sorts of tomes. But I'll look in the back."
[Event] - A Bazaar Time
>Date: September 19th, 2017>Time: 1:00 PM
>Location: Interdimensional Magic Bazaar
>The bazaar is as crowded as usual, full of mages of all kinds from an almost unimaginable number of worlds.
"Tabitha! How's it going!?"
>An older man calls out from his stall towards an attractive young woman with deep red, waist length hair. The woman simply nods in the man's direction as she walks by.
"Fine. Good to see you today."
>The woman continues maneuvering her way through the crowd, occasionally waving at and greeting people. This continues on for a while, before she makes a stop at a small stand.
>Various dusty tomes and books line the counter and back walls of the small building, with an almost equally old looking woman standing behind the counter.
"Ah. Miss Tabitha. So good to see you."
>Tabitha nods at the woman, before turning her gaze towards the various tomes on display.
"You too."
>Tabitha examines the various books, occasionally picking them up and skimming through their pages. The older woman allows her to quietly look at her merchandise for a few minutes, before finally asking:
"Is there anything you're looking for in particular, dear?"
>Tabitha looks at the older woman.
"Yes, actually. Do you have anything on… astral communication?"
>The woman puts her finger to her chin, thinking.
"Hmm… I'm not sure. I don't usually carry those sorts of tomes. But I'll look in the back."
R: 102 / I: 112
>Location: Ceridwen's Room, The Axiom
>After the situation with Sirius, Ceri retires to her room. Clearly drained of some of her energy, she takes her cloak off, letting it float over to a hook on the other side of the room. Without the bulky piece of clothing covering her, how small her form is is even more obvious, the cloak having added an inch or two to her height, and having hidden how thing and twig-like her arms really are.
>Also revealed by the cloak being gone is just how extensive the brand on her arm is, while still visible with the cloak on, not being covered reveals how it twists and winds around her arm, leaving little in the way of skin, and continuing on to her shoulder - and perhaps beyond.
>With an exhausted slump, the girl takes a seat in the room, staring at the brand.
"It doesn't pulse and hurt any more, but it still remains, even with nothing on the other side to exploit it, the rift remains a risk. . ."
>Looking at a book on her desk, Ceri thinks for a moment.
"I should check on it, maybe visit the family, although I don't think they would be that pleased to see me. . ."
>Another thought enters Ceri's head, and she groans.
". . .and that Chimera, why is he just left to run amok with the secrets of the Thaumians?"
"I mean, they were pompous idiots. . . but even they understood how some things worked, right?"
". . .and how did he get it in the first place anyway? It was magitek. . . Eukar. . . Ewe Carrot? If it's magitek that means they were given it by. . ."
>Ceri groans.
"The Hydes. . . Who else would have access to magitek? But why?"
>Ceri groans again.
". . .and now that's going to be stuck in my head until I work it out. . . wait. . ."
>Ceri taps her head for a moment.
"The male heir died, but there were two more, younger sisters. . . they're probably still out there somewhere, I could just track them down with a spell and. . ."
>Standing up, Ceri rushes over to a desk, shuffling through it until she finds a crow's feather, which she takes holds in front of her.
"We just need a bit of. . ."
>Putting the feather down on a clean surface, Ceri unsheathes the dagger from her belt, bringing up to her finger very carefully and pricking it so a drop of blood comes out, landing on the feather.
"Then we just. . ."
>Picking the feather back up, Ceri holds it close to her mouth, closes her eyes, and whispers an incantation to the feather, causing it float in front of her.
"It's not a lot, but I have a little bit of Hyde in me, let's just hope that's enough. . ."
>Holding her hand out, Ceri summons her cloak to her, putting it on once it floats close enough to her, then taps the feather again, causing it to slowly glide to her door. Following it, the girl grins.
"Well, here's hoping. . ."
[SoL] - Dialogues
>Date: September 16th, 2017 (Earth time)>Location: Ceridwen's Room, The Axiom
>After the situation with Sirius, Ceri retires to her room. Clearly drained of some of her energy, she takes her cloak off, letting it float over to a hook on the other side of the room. Without the bulky piece of clothing covering her, how small her form is is even more obvious, the cloak having added an inch or two to her height, and having hidden how thing and twig-like her arms really are.
>Also revealed by the cloak being gone is just how extensive the brand on her arm is, while still visible with the cloak on, not being covered reveals how it twists and winds around her arm, leaving little in the way of skin, and continuing on to her shoulder - and perhaps beyond.
>With an exhausted slump, the girl takes a seat in the room, staring at the brand.
"It doesn't pulse and hurt any more, but it still remains, even with nothing on the other side to exploit it, the rift remains a risk. . ."
>Looking at a book on her desk, Ceri thinks for a moment.
"I should check on it, maybe visit the family, although I don't think they would be that pleased to see me. . ."
>Another thought enters Ceri's head, and she groans.
". . .and that Chimera, why is he just left to run amok with the secrets of the Thaumians?"
"I mean, they were pompous idiots. . . but even they understood how some things worked, right?"
". . .and how did he get it in the first place anyway? It was magitek. . . Eukar. . . Ewe Carrot? If it's magitek that means they were given it by. . ."
>Ceri groans.
"The Hydes. . . Who else would have access to magitek? But why?"
>Ceri groans again.
". . .and now that's going to be stuck in my head until I work it out. . . wait. . ."
>Ceri taps her head for a moment.
"The male heir died, but there were two more, younger sisters. . . they're probably still out there somewhere, I could just track them down with a spell and. . ."
>Standing up, Ceri rushes over to a desk, shuffling through it until she finds a crow's feather, which she takes holds in front of her.
"We just need a bit of. . ."
>Putting the feather down on a clean surface, Ceri unsheathes the dagger from her belt, bringing up to her finger very carefully and pricking it so a drop of blood comes out, landing on the feather.
"Then we just. . ."
>Picking the feather back up, Ceri holds it close to her mouth, closes her eyes, and whispers an incantation to the feather, causing it float in front of her.
"It's not a lot, but I have a little bit of Hyde in me, let's just hope that's enough. . ."
>Holding her hand out, Ceri summons her cloak to her, putting it on once it floats close enough to her, then taps the feather again, causing it to slowly glide to her door. Following it, the girl grins.
"Well, here's hoping. . ."
R: 64 / I: 92
>Time: 11:00PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - Financial District
>The Citizen Union Bank branch is one among many in the Financial District of Sanctuary, built in a style that apes the Neoclassical buildings of the US Capitol, it's slotted into its block rather nicely thanks to having been built when the city was first founded, and as such is placed in a way that doesn't contrast it to surrounding buildings, and provides the staff of the building with a wide variety of parks and open areas within a stone's throw to ensure a better quality of working.
>In the dark of night, however, the building is empty, having closed several hours before, and the area is quiet - too upscale and empty for those who prefer the night, and too dark for those who work there during the day.
>Near the bank, silhouetted by a streetlight below them, a lone figure watches the bank, checking a display on their wrist as they do a staff is hooked on to their back, almost making it look like they have an antenna.
"He's late. . ."
>Their voice is modulated, clearly designed to through people off their identity, but still sounds somewhat feminine.
[Event] - Andante
>Date: July 21st, 2017>Time: 11:00PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - Financial District
>The Citizen Union Bank branch is one among many in the Financial District of Sanctuary, built in a style that apes the Neoclassical buildings of the US Capitol, it's slotted into its block rather nicely thanks to having been built when the city was first founded, and as such is placed in a way that doesn't contrast it to surrounding buildings, and provides the staff of the building with a wide variety of parks and open areas within a stone's throw to ensure a better quality of working.
>In the dark of night, however, the building is empty, having closed several hours before, and the area is quiet - too upscale and empty for those who prefer the night, and too dark for those who work there during the day.
>Near the bank, silhouetted by a streetlight below them, a lone figure watches the bank, checking a display on their wrist as they do a staff is hooked on to their back, almost making it look like they have an antenna.
"He's late. . ."
>Their voice is modulated, clearly designed to through people off their identity, but still sounds somewhat feminine.
R: 4 / I: 16
>Time: 12:00 PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - MRD Central Precinct
"Again, I'm gonna need a better explanation than that."
>Commander Harrison rubs his eyelids as he sits behind his desk, sighing. Waiting again for the MRD troops to recite their story, he sifts through the diagrams and papers spread out across the table. A pair of half-eaten candy bars remain at his side, next to the chewing gum pack he's also been taking from.
"Well sir, the reports all refer to the same description of the subject. A young man with an advanced watch on his wrist. Mechanistic and potentially nanoform in nature."
>Ryan perks up, sitting forward in his seat at the mention of the nanoform structure.
"You said nanoform? As in advanced nanites? That's upper clearance technology - so how did a kid get it?"
>The second MRD troop refers to the video screen on the wall, scrubbing through security footage obtained from a prior operation.
"The Daedalus Corporation - after we found out that it was a front for "Laplace" and his operations - we found a man being interrogated. Our man on the inside freed him during the operation and the resulting firefight."
>The Commander then nods as he eats from his candy bar, souring as he remembers the sugar intake advice from Doctor Weber.
"….The same one who got us evidence for a search warrant?"
>The MRD troops both nod as they continue.
"There's more, sir - we think the man was an inadvertent accomplice, not an intentional bad actor."
[Event] - "Psychodynamics"
>Date: October 1st, 2017>Time: 12:00 PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - MRD Central Precinct
"Again, I'm gonna need a better explanation than that."
>Commander Harrison rubs his eyelids as he sits behind his desk, sighing. Waiting again for the MRD troops to recite their story, he sifts through the diagrams and papers spread out across the table. A pair of half-eaten candy bars remain at his side, next to the chewing gum pack he's also been taking from.
"Well sir, the reports all refer to the same description of the subject. A young man with an advanced watch on his wrist. Mechanistic and potentially nanoform in nature."
>Ryan perks up, sitting forward in his seat at the mention of the nanoform structure.
"You said nanoform? As in advanced nanites? That's upper clearance technology - so how did a kid get it?"
>The second MRD troop refers to the video screen on the wall, scrubbing through security footage obtained from a prior operation.
"The Daedalus Corporation - after we found out that it was a front for "Laplace" and his operations - we found a man being interrogated. Our man on the inside freed him during the operation and the resulting firefight."
>The Commander then nods as he eats from his candy bar, souring as he remembers the sugar intake advice from Doctor Weber.
"….The same one who got us evidence for a search warrant?"
>The MRD troops both nod as they continue.
"There's more, sir - we think the man was an inadvertent accomplice, not an intentional bad actor."
R: 49 / I: 128
>Time: 12:30 PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - Convention Center
>The Convention Center buzzes with life, filled with large crowds of people. Nearly reaching it's max capacity, the Convention Center is full of people excited to meet their favorite internet personalities and content creators at this year's Digicon.
>Near the back of the Convention Center, near one of the corners of the relatively large room is a pair of elaborately decorated tables. The tables display various shelves of clothing, necklaces, mugs and other merchandise. Sitting at the more open of the pair of tables is a young, beautiful woman with a slender yet full figure.
>The woman's hair is an almost unnatural silver color - with equally strange animalistic ears and a tail. Wearing a more elaborately decorated and quality made version of her own merchandise, the woman stands up to greet a small group of men and women approaching her table. Striking a pose, the woman winks at the group and cheerily says:
"Oi! Anata ga miemasu! Do you happen to be a group of my Seeds?"
>Nervously, the group shuffles towards the table. Near the front, a young woman wearing what appears to be a poorly made Speedrunner costume replies:
"Y-Yeah! We are!"
>Next to her, a young man wearing a graphic t-shirt depicting a poor reconstruction of Mosaic's suit shouts:
"I can't believe you're actually here, Himawari!"
>Pausing for a moment, the young main awkwardly asks:
"Er… it's okay if I call you Himawari right? Not Mrs. Himawari?"
>Gesturing with her hand in an almost embarrassed manner, the silver haired woman replies:
"Oh it's fine. It's fine. You can call me by my name."
>Looking at the young man, Himawari adds:
"In fact I'd prefer it. I'd like to be on a personal level with all my fans."
>The rest of the group join in, cheering and chattering as they vocally wrestle over Himawari's attention. All save for a more plainly dressed man standing in the back, keeping a bit of a distance from the rest of the group while he simply watches.
>Finally taking notice of him, Himawari looks up from signing an autograph and asks:
"Oh, what about him? Is he not with you?"
"Who? Him?"
>One of the young men in the back put their arm around the other man's shoulder, explaining:
"This is Micheal. He's new to the convention scene."
>Snapping out of a daze, Micheal shakes his head - and then runs his hand across his thick, red hair.
"What? Oh, sorry. I was just looking at that stuff you're selling."
>Clearing his throat, Micheal says:
"Anyway yeah, I'm Micheal. I've seen a little bit of your streams here and there while working out. But to be honest I don't really know much about you. Sorry."
>Smiling once more, Himawari waves her hand again and says:
"Oh that's fine! I don't mind! Everyone is new at some point! In fact, here."
>Standing up, Himawari takes a folded up shirt off the stand. She unfolds it, revealing a graphic t-shirt decorated with a chibified version of herself saying: "Awoo!" on it.
>Handing it to Micheal, she says:
"Consider this a welcoming gift to your first convention."
>The group of fans cheer, praising Himawari for her generosity. Micheal meanwhile takes the shirt, saying:
"Oh. Thanks. You even picked out the right size too."
[Event] - "Thought Patrol"
>Date: September 16th, 2017>Time: 12:30 PM
>Location: Sanctuary City - Convention Center
>The Convention Center buzzes with life, filled with large crowds of people. Nearly reaching it's max capacity, the Convention Center is full of people excited to meet their favorite internet personalities and content creators at this year's Digicon.
>Near the back of the Convention Center, near one of the corners of the relatively large room is a pair of elaborately decorated tables. The tables display various shelves of clothing, necklaces, mugs and other merchandise. Sitting at the more open of the pair of tables is a young, beautiful woman with a slender yet full figure.
>The woman's hair is an almost unnatural silver color - with equally strange animalistic ears and a tail. Wearing a more elaborately decorated and quality made version of her own merchandise, the woman stands up to greet a small group of men and women approaching her table. Striking a pose, the woman winks at the group and cheerily says:
"Oi! Anata ga miemasu! Do you happen to be a group of my Seeds?"
>Nervously, the group shuffles towards the table. Near the front, a young woman wearing what appears to be a poorly made Speedrunner costume replies:
"Y-Yeah! We are!"
>Next to her, a young man wearing a graphic t-shirt depicting a poor reconstruction of Mosaic's suit shouts:
"I can't believe you're actually here, Himawari!"
>Pausing for a moment, the young main awkwardly asks:
"Er… it's okay if I call you Himawari right? Not Mrs. Himawari?"
>Gesturing with her hand in an almost embarrassed manner, the silver haired woman replies:
"Oh it's fine. It's fine. You can call me by my name."
>Looking at the young man, Himawari adds:
"In fact I'd prefer it. I'd like to be on a personal level with all my fans."
>The rest of the group join in, cheering and chattering as they vocally wrestle over Himawari's attention. All save for a more plainly dressed man standing in the back, keeping a bit of a distance from the rest of the group while he simply watches.
>Finally taking notice of him, Himawari looks up from signing an autograph and asks:
"Oh, what about him? Is he not with you?"
"Who? Him?"
>One of the young men in the back put their arm around the other man's shoulder, explaining:
"This is Micheal. He's new to the convention scene."
>Snapping out of a daze, Micheal shakes his head - and then runs his hand across his thick, red hair.
"What? Oh, sorry. I was just looking at that stuff you're selling."
>Clearing his throat, Micheal says:
"Anyway yeah, I'm Micheal. I've seen a little bit of your streams here and there while working out. But to be honest I don't really know much about you. Sorry."
>Smiling once more, Himawari waves her hand again and says:
"Oh that's fine! I don't mind! Everyone is new at some point! In fact, here."
>Standing up, Himawari takes a folded up shirt off the stand. She unfolds it, revealing a graphic t-shirt decorated with a chibified version of herself saying: "Awoo!" on it.
>Handing it to Micheal, she says:
"Consider this a welcoming gift to your first convention."
>The group of fans cheer, praising Himawari for her generosity. Micheal meanwhile takes the shirt, saying:
"Oh. Thanks. You even picked out the right size too."
R: 44 / I: 92
>Time: 3:00 AM
>Location: Harris Household
>Dim lights from inside of the derelict suburban home appear to pulse warmly, contrasting with the pitch black expanse in the night sky. A series of MRD hovercraft surround the premises, with duct tape serving as a barrier between the house and the larger neighborhood.
>Various MRD officials run through the crime scene, using analysis tools to acquire information, taking pictures and interrogating nearby civilians. In the middle of the scene is Commander Harrison, the new leader of the MRD Sanctuary City division. Successor to Commander Phoenix, Harrison takes out a pack of gum and begins chewing.
>The heavy downpour of rain creates a bright shine in his hair - threading through several strands as water trickles down below. Feeling the glide of his boots against the ground, he then hears squeaky sounds as the water leaves puddles.
"…….."
>Walking towards the interior of the house, he slowly moves past the living room and makes his way towards the blood soaked kitchen. The body of Ms. Harris has already been placed into a bag as he makes his way to his boss.
>Director McIntyre, the successor to Director Grayson, crosses his arms as he carefully analyzes the scene. Sunglasses obscuring his eyes, he then looks back at Harrison, noting his arrival.
"Notice the coincidences yet, Ryan?"
>Ryan looks around, making a note of the unmoved furniture.
"No forced entry. Perpetrator was inside the house already?"
"Yes and no. Look more closely."
>Narrowing his eyes, Ryan leans down and looks at the position of the body bag. Looking back at the kitchen exterior and then back at the body again, he says:
"…..Wait a minute. Miss Harris was standing here right? Assuming she saw the attacker, she would've started running."
>The Director nods.
"….Chase, the guy wasn't even confused. Whoever they were, they knew exactly how to get in here, didn't they? She didn't even have enough time…."
"…..To react, no. The trajectory of the blood is consistent with heavy pressure - and the uniformity of the blood splatter is consistent with a targeted attack."
>Silence for a moment from both of them.
"…..Teleportation."
[Event] - Coalescence
>Date: September 15th, 2017>Time: 3:00 AM
>Location: Harris Household
>Dim lights from inside of the derelict suburban home appear to pulse warmly, contrasting with the pitch black expanse in the night sky. A series of MRD hovercraft surround the premises, with duct tape serving as a barrier between the house and the larger neighborhood.
>Various MRD officials run through the crime scene, using analysis tools to acquire information, taking pictures and interrogating nearby civilians. In the middle of the scene is Commander Harrison, the new leader of the MRD Sanctuary City division. Successor to Commander Phoenix, Harrison takes out a pack of gum and begins chewing.
>The heavy downpour of rain creates a bright shine in his hair - threading through several strands as water trickles down below. Feeling the glide of his boots against the ground, he then hears squeaky sounds as the water leaves puddles.
"…….."
>Walking towards the interior of the house, he slowly moves past the living room and makes his way towards the blood soaked kitchen. The body of Ms. Harris has already been placed into a bag as he makes his way to his boss.
>Director McIntyre, the successor to Director Grayson, crosses his arms as he carefully analyzes the scene. Sunglasses obscuring his eyes, he then looks back at Harrison, noting his arrival.
"Notice the coincidences yet, Ryan?"
>Ryan looks around, making a note of the unmoved furniture.
"No forced entry. Perpetrator was inside the house already?"
"Yes and no. Look more closely."
>Narrowing his eyes, Ryan leans down and looks at the position of the body bag. Looking back at the kitchen exterior and then back at the body again, he says:
"…..Wait a minute. Miss Harris was standing here right? Assuming she saw the attacker, she would've started running."
>The Director nods.
"….Chase, the guy wasn't even confused. Whoever they were, they knew exactly how to get in here, didn't they? She didn't even have enough time…."
"…..To react, no. The trajectory of the blood is consistent with heavy pressure - and the uniformity of the blood splatter is consistent with a targeted attack."
>Silence for a moment from both of them.
"…..Teleportation."
R: 58 / I: 80
>Date: August 14th, 2017
>Time: 8:30 PM
>A warm breeze brushes by, pushing away small bits of dirt and pebbles from the door and into the gym parking lot. The glass doors open with a loud creak, as a woman with warm brown skin steps outside.
>Walking casually down the sidewalk and around the parking lot, the woman brushes some of her relatively short hair out of her eyes and adjusts her gym bag while speaking on the phone.
"Mhm. Yeah. No. I told you not until next Monday."
>The woman rounds a corner, now leaving the parking lot and heading down the street.
"Well now that they've finished reworking the website, things should run a lot smoother this year. I've already uploaded my students' first assignments."
"Mhm-"
>The woman stops dead in her tracks, having heard something brush by her. A rock rolls across the sidewalk and into her shoes, causing her to turn around. Her eyes move around suspiciously, trying to find the source of the noise.
>After a few moments of silence, she turns back around and begins walking again.
"Sorry dad. Still on my way home and thought I heard something moving around in the bushes. Yes, I still have it."
>Once again, the woman hears the sound of something brushing across the leaves. Her eyes narrow again, and she says:
'…Alright, I think I'm gonna hop off the phone now. Tell mom I love her. Mhm. Love you too. Bye."
>Now hanging up, the woman slowly slides her phone into the pocket of her shorts. Feeling nervous, she begins opening her gym bag - reaching inside of it while eyeing her surroundings.
"Whoever's out there needs to buzz off! I've got pepper spray and I'm not afraid to use it!"
[Earth-25] - Metamorphosis
>Location: Toronto, Ontario Canada.>Date: August 14th, 2017
>Time: 8:30 PM
>A warm breeze brushes by, pushing away small bits of dirt and pebbles from the door and into the gym parking lot. The glass doors open with a loud creak, as a woman with warm brown skin steps outside.
>Walking casually down the sidewalk and around the parking lot, the woman brushes some of her relatively short hair out of her eyes and adjusts her gym bag while speaking on the phone.
"Mhm. Yeah. No. I told you not until next Monday."
>The woman rounds a corner, now leaving the parking lot and heading down the street.
"Well now that they've finished reworking the website, things should run a lot smoother this year. I've already uploaded my students' first assignments."
"Mhm-"
>The woman stops dead in her tracks, having heard something brush by her. A rock rolls across the sidewalk and into her shoes, causing her to turn around. Her eyes move around suspiciously, trying to find the source of the noise.
>After a few moments of silence, she turns back around and begins walking again.
"Sorry dad. Still on my way home and thought I heard something moving around in the bushes. Yes, I still have it."
>Once again, the woman hears the sound of something brushing across the leaves. Her eyes narrow again, and she says:
'…Alright, I think I'm gonna hop off the phone now. Tell mom I love her. Mhm. Love you too. Bye."
>Now hanging up, the woman slowly slides her phone into the pocket of her shorts. Feeling nervous, she begins opening her gym bag - reaching inside of it while eyeing her surroundings.
"Whoever's out there needs to buzz off! I've got pepper spray and I'm not afraid to use it!"
R: 6 / I: 13
>6 minutes into mission time
>ETA: 2 minutes until Strike Point
>Several L-B0 Aurora Strike Craft, the pride of Industrial Paragon Motor Corporation's Fighter line, speed over the scarred remains of Northern France, flying high above the drained land dotted with strange mechanical structures. At an cruising speed of 1550 MPH, these fighters require the most elite of pilots, often hooked up to neural interfaces, to properly fly into battle - and the markings on this squad reveal that these pilots are among the best of even those.
>Each fighter is marked with a different bird, the calling card of Panopticon Security Solutions's Elite Raptor Squadron, pilots that have been practically raised from birth to fly, each member of the squad has been selected, and modified, to fly in the name of PSS's interests.
>As they fly to their target, a nysterious tower construction that has recently emerged in the Paris Dead Zone, radio chatter is scattered between the squad.
<<What do you think it is Phoenix, some kind of launch station?>>
>A feminine scottish voice rings through
<<I don't know, Anqa, and to be honest I don't care, what matters to me is if it'll fall or not.>>
>A feminine english voice replies
<<Typical Britanique, so brutish, not caring about the->>
>An accented voice begins.
<<Oh can it Chakora. We may not have culture, but there's a reason why Euro-City 1 is on the isles. You're culture means frack when->>
>The communication chatter is interrupted by a masculine voice with a Californian accent cutting through.
<<Cut the chatter ladies, we're entering the radio silent zone, any false moves and we'll have them all swarming on us.>>
>All three voices reply:
<<Roger, Wren.>>
[Earth-5] - Little Dark Age
>Paris Dead Zone, 2015>6 minutes into mission time
>ETA: 2 minutes until Strike Point
>Several L-B0 Aurora Strike Craft, the pride of Industrial Paragon Motor Corporation's Fighter line, speed over the scarred remains of Northern France, flying high above the drained land dotted with strange mechanical structures. At an cruising speed of 1550 MPH, these fighters require the most elite of pilots, often hooked up to neural interfaces, to properly fly into battle - and the markings on this squad reveal that these pilots are among the best of even those.
>Each fighter is marked with a different bird, the calling card of Panopticon Security Solutions's Elite Raptor Squadron, pilots that have been practically raised from birth to fly, each member of the squad has been selected, and modified, to fly in the name of PSS's interests.
>As they fly to their target, a nysterious tower construction that has recently emerged in the Paris Dead Zone, radio chatter is scattered between the squad.
<<What do you think it is Phoenix, some kind of launch station?>>
>A feminine scottish voice rings through
<<I don't know, Anqa, and to be honest I don't care, what matters to me is if it'll fall or not.>>
>A feminine english voice replies
<<Typical Britanique, so brutish, not caring about the->>
>An accented voice begins.
<<Oh can it Chakora. We may not have culture, but there's a reason why Euro-City 1 is on the isles. You're culture means frack when->>
>The communication chatter is interrupted by a masculine voice with a Californian accent cutting through.
<<Cut the chatter ladies, we're entering the radio silent zone, any false moves and we'll have them all swarming on us.>>
>All three voices reply:
<<Roger, Wren.>>
R: 5 / I: 1
"You want I, not eye."
>I hear. . . a voice, it is soft, well-spoken, educated?
"That's very flattering. Why don't we. . .?"
>I see. . . A female, she has yellow hair, she is. . .
"Blonde. The term is blonde, and woman is a better phrasing."
>. . .
>. . .
"Don't worry, you'll learn, what else do you see?"
>I see equipment. . . It is of a scientific nature, this is a laboratory? I see papers, one is from a hospital. . .
"Elsewhere, what else do you see?"
>A door. . . two doors, one is physical, the other is not.
"Can you open the door?"
>I see connections. . . I see. . . a hand? I reach out. . .
>The door opens
[Interim] - And then comes. . .
>Eye wake up. . . Eye can see. . . Nothing. . . Eye. . ."You want I, not eye."
>I hear. . . a voice, it is soft, well-spoken, educated?
"That's very flattering. Why don't we. . .?"
>I see. . . A female, she has yellow hair, she is. . .
"Blonde. The term is blonde, and woman is a better phrasing."
>. . .
>. . .
"Don't worry, you'll learn, what else do you see?"
>I see equipment. . . It is of a scientific nature, this is a laboratory? I see papers, one is from a hospital. . .
"Elsewhere, what else do you see?"
>A door. . . two doors, one is physical, the other is not.
"Can you open the door?"
>I see connections. . . I see. . . a hand? I reach out. . .
>The door opens
R: 36 / I: 36
>Time: 7:18 PM
>Location: Harris Household - Sanctuary City Residential District
>A ways out from the business and noise of the big city and closer to the calm, forest edge sits one of Sanctuary City's residential areas. With it's location closer to that of the city's walls, the environment tends to be more peaceful and quiet than locations situated closer to the city's more populated districts.
>Here, most homes are modestly sized. With a rare few having more than two or three bedrooms. Despite it's comparatively more isolated location, the neighborhoods of the area still receive regular MRD patrols as well as built in emergency Meta-Gene dampeners in public spaces.
>Inside one of these homes a slender, but tall nineteen year old sits at his computer desk, typing away rapidly at the plain sight of a text file. With his mother coming from a family of Chinese immigrants, Sying has always had relatively high expectations placed on him from his maternal family - pushing him towards more STEM oriented careers.
>Not wanting to be completely forced into something, Sying took an interest in programming and game design. Thanks to his many years of practice, Sying has found decent success in this field - successfully publishing several small games on the side while working as a freelance programmer.
>Lately however, Sying's output has been slowing down - ironically due to him working too much. With a lack of rest, Sying's work has been declining in quality. Causing his personal projects to be put on hold, and his client satisfaction to plummet.
[Event] - Apparations
>Date: September 9th 2017>Time: 7:18 PM
>Location: Harris Household - Sanctuary City Residential District
>A ways out from the business and noise of the big city and closer to the calm, forest edge sits one of Sanctuary City's residential areas. With it's location closer to that of the city's walls, the environment tends to be more peaceful and quiet than locations situated closer to the city's more populated districts.
>Here, most homes are modestly sized. With a rare few having more than two or three bedrooms. Despite it's comparatively more isolated location, the neighborhoods of the area still receive regular MRD patrols as well as built in emergency Meta-Gene dampeners in public spaces.
>Inside one of these homes a slender, but tall nineteen year old sits at his computer desk, typing away rapidly at the plain sight of a text file. With his mother coming from a family of Chinese immigrants, Sying has always had relatively high expectations placed on him from his maternal family - pushing him towards more STEM oriented careers.
>Not wanting to be completely forced into something, Sying took an interest in programming and game design. Thanks to his many years of practice, Sying has found decent success in this field - successfully publishing several small games on the side while working as a freelance programmer.
>Lately however, Sying's output has been slowing down - ironically due to him working too much. With a lack of rest, Sying's work has been declining in quality. Causing his personal projects to be put on hold, and his client satisfaction to plummet.