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OPERATION: Hidden Dragon
It is the early days of spring, and dark plots are blooming.
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A Message From the Dawnbreak
The toast dropped from Terry's mouth. He slumped back into the seat and quickly took his phone, punching in a set of numbers. "Beauvais. Did you see that? Yeah. Alright. What's the plan? Did you get a source of the transmission? DID ANYONE GET A SOURCE OF THE FUCKIN' TRANSMISSION?" He sounds mad now, rising to get on pants, edging the phone under his neck. "Listen, alright? No, I will not calm down. This is a senior TEMPLAR officer and a Venice benefactor we're talking about. Now, I don't give a fuck about the red tape. You get me a source of that transmission. Now." He ends the call, throwing the phone on the couch. He hurries over to the wardrobe, placing on a white combat vest and more armor. "Right." He looks at himself from the mirror, affixing the katana to his belt. He goes to pick up the phone again. He presses at the buttons again and a smooth Italian accent asks: "Good morning, Captain Erekon. How are you today?" Terry, smiling to himself, replies: "Buongiorno. Potrebbe trovarmi la posizione di un certo "signor Doyle"? È un agente Templare."
Gillian Zhuge
New Member
Gillian sits in the tiny hotel in Warwick, Rhode Island, surprised to find that her Venice log-in still worked. As she watches the video, her left hand reaches out to gently rest on the screen, her expression unreadable.
"ends, means," she mumbles, her voice glacial; slowly, carefully carving a valley.
"ends, means," she mumbles, her voice glacial; slowly, carefully carving a valley.
Sarah Willis
I AM THE JUSTICE, NOT YOU
Sarah watches Terry as he sorts things out, pulling on her Illuminati Uniform. "Babe. Anything?"
"I'm gonna go and see Doyle about this." He mumbles, placing a briefcase over his shoulder. "He and I are gonna have a little chat. With my friends." Terry nods. "What about you?"
Blake picks up the pen drive with the satellite data from the Eye nerds, and heads to Venice. Time to plan an extraction. He texts Kate Burnet, Russell Kobayashi, and Nevaan Zhang, his volunteers for operating in anti bee gas: "It's go-time. Meet me in Venice." He would then seek whoever's in charge of the efforts to plan an assault ASAP.
Alric sipped his coffee as the heavy vault doors slowly began to roll away. He liked to come down here when things got a little too heavy or things seemed hopeless. As the doors slid away, the portal came into view. A thin meniscus of magical energies, holding back the infinite swarm. A veritable sea of insectoid bodies, writhing and chittering.
The two illuminati guards dragged a man behind him. "I already told you!," he screamed, "I don't fucking know anything about Dawnbreak! They're a splinter faction, terrorists- We- We- don't have anything to do with them!"
Alric smiled sadly, still looking at the portal, "I know. I believe you."
He sighed.
"But we're still responsible for the things we create. Don't worry. We'll send you some comp'ny soon enough."
"No. NO! NOOOAAAAGGRRGGGHHH!!!"
He nodded, and the guards tossed the Morninglight recruiter through.
The two illuminati guards dragged a man behind him. "I already told you!," he screamed, "I don't fucking know anything about Dawnbreak! They're a splinter faction, terrorists- We- We- don't have anything to do with them!"
Alric smiled sadly, still looking at the portal, "I know. I believe you."
He sighed.
"But we're still responsible for the things we create. Don't worry. We'll send you some comp'ny soon enough."
"No. NO! NOOOAAAAGGRRGGGHHH!!!"
He nodded, and the guards tossed the Morninglight recruiter through.
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Velvet Silk
Tinker, Sailor, Soldier, Why
Red lights, sirens. Fucking biocontainment - half the fucking day was red lights and sirens. 'It wasn't as dead as we suspected!', 'It's spleen was a rupture in reality!', 'WE ARE ALL MAIN OF STARS'. Constant red fuckin' lights, sirens, and excuses for them.
Today was 'It's stinger still functions whilst dead!'. Fucks sake, woman, you're, what, thirty-something? Get over yourself, it's a goddamn wasp stinger. Now we gotta suffer for your overreaction. Just another day of autopsies...
Stood there, getting scanned down, felt like hours- probably was, how much shit they needed to scan for. Normal radiation, supernatural radiation, anti-anima, anima overdose, cross-universe pollen, cross-universe toxins, cross-universe bacteria, and every other fuckin' thing under the sun, and many things that aren't. The 'emergency' happened nearly an hour before the fucking thing aired, she didn't see it until an hour afterwards.
Walking down the hall to comms - fuckers built it on the other side of the goddamn campus. WHY. She heard feet slamming against pavement, slipping to the side to let them past, only for the sound to move juuust to the side. Goddamnit - she felt a pat against her back, followed by that goddamn voice, endearing as it could be, now was not the best time. "'ey, kid..." Between pants, she can't help remember that even ignoring the buggering of reality on her age, he's only twenty two. "Soz, mah, buh-..." Another pant. She can barely understand him at the best of times, let alone with him panting between words and running on two hours sleep. "Ya - You seein' this shit yo?"
"What, is it more impressive than the med-examiner managing to sting herself on something that died two days ago?" She doesn't stop walking to speak to him, keeping an air of hurry to her.
"Dependin' on what you take as impressive, ain't-it? Worse fookin' effects job ah've seen in history of shite make-up jobs on dis teeng." He starts to pull out his phone, keeping pace with her with just his normal walking speed. Knight James Monserrate - she's not made friends in the Templars, yet, but her share of jovial acquaintances have been forming, he was one of them.
"I dunno - was pretty god damn impressive. Not even like the thing was hard to notice or anything. You saw that hole one of those fuckers got in me? -That- sized stinger."
"Nah, ain't 'alve 'as stupid as dese fuckers." He turned on the video, holding it infront of them as they walked on, vocally pointing out his issue once Cassandra was revealed on screen. "Ya see what ah mean there? Ain' dat look nothin' like the Captain!"
"I dunno - might be, looks pretty beat up, might make her look different I guess?" The sound from the phone gets a little bit louder, attracting some strange looks from others walking along the way. '#buh bird bird bird...#' "Oh come on - that's the Captain, surely? Who the fuck else has balls like that?"
"Tha's wha' th' want us te' think, ain't it? Prolly got some simulation or summit, see what she sayin' in dat situation, feed de lines te dat shit actor."
"That seems like a lot of effort - didn't C-o-V say she'd been captured anyway?"
"Maybe they, got her, lik, chained up undergroun', what she really sayin' on that video be too vulgar te' air, they tonin' it down wi' an actor!"
"Not like it matters, gonna kill their kids either way."
That elicits a short chuckle from the man, who offers her a soft, light-hearted thump to the chest. "Can't get de blue outta ya, can we? Ri- jus' need te show ye dat shit. Ah'm up in stonehenge in lik, twenny. Be seein' ya, tommora, lil-knight." He turns and buggers off with that, seeing the contained rage on her face at the video, but choosing not to address it - he didn't have time for that shit.
She keeps walking towards comms, opening twitter to scroll through, responding to some, before making a call. "...Special request for dealing with the current threat - requesting permission to open portals to all currently legitimately recognized locales. Mainly the hell dimensions and the dimension of swarming spiders, but, room to branch out if I need, y'know?"
Today was 'It's stinger still functions whilst dead!'. Fucks sake, woman, you're, what, thirty-something? Get over yourself, it's a goddamn wasp stinger. Now we gotta suffer for your overreaction. Just another day of autopsies...
Stood there, getting scanned down, felt like hours- probably was, how much shit they needed to scan for. Normal radiation, supernatural radiation, anti-anima, anima overdose, cross-universe pollen, cross-universe toxins, cross-universe bacteria, and every other fuckin' thing under the sun, and many things that aren't. The 'emergency' happened nearly an hour before the fucking thing aired, she didn't see it until an hour afterwards.
Walking down the hall to comms - fuckers built it on the other side of the goddamn campus. WHY. She heard feet slamming against pavement, slipping to the side to let them past, only for the sound to move juuust to the side. Goddamnit - she felt a pat against her back, followed by that goddamn voice, endearing as it could be, now was not the best time. "'ey, kid..." Between pants, she can't help remember that even ignoring the buggering of reality on her age, he's only twenty two. "Soz, mah, buh-..." Another pant. She can barely understand him at the best of times, let alone with him panting between words and running on two hours sleep. "Ya - You seein' this shit yo?"
"What, is it more impressive than the med-examiner managing to sting herself on something that died two days ago?" She doesn't stop walking to speak to him, keeping an air of hurry to her.
"Dependin' on what you take as impressive, ain't-it? Worse fookin' effects job ah've seen in history of shite make-up jobs on dis teeng." He starts to pull out his phone, keeping pace with her with just his normal walking speed. Knight James Monserrate - she's not made friends in the Templars, yet, but her share of jovial acquaintances have been forming, he was one of them.
"I dunno - was pretty god damn impressive. Not even like the thing was hard to notice or anything. You saw that hole one of those fuckers got in me? -That- sized stinger."
"Nah, ain't 'alve 'as stupid as dese fuckers." He turned on the video, holding it infront of them as they walked on, vocally pointing out his issue once Cassandra was revealed on screen. "Ya see what ah mean there? Ain' dat look nothin' like the Captain!"
"I dunno - might be, looks pretty beat up, might make her look different I guess?" The sound from the phone gets a little bit louder, attracting some strange looks from others walking along the way. '#buh bird bird bird...#' "Oh come on - that's the Captain, surely? Who the fuck else has balls like that?"
"Tha's wha' th' want us te' think, ain't it? Prolly got some simulation or summit, see what she sayin' in dat situation, feed de lines te dat shit actor."
"That seems like a lot of effort - didn't C-o-V say she'd been captured anyway?"
"Maybe they, got her, lik, chained up undergroun', what she really sayin' on that video be too vulgar te' air, they tonin' it down wi' an actor!"
"Not like it matters, gonna kill their kids either way."
That elicits a short chuckle from the man, who offers her a soft, light-hearted thump to the chest. "Can't get de blue outta ya, can we? Ri- jus' need te show ye dat shit. Ah'm up in stonehenge in lik, twenny. Be seein' ya, tommora, lil-knight." He turns and buggers off with that, seeing the contained rage on her face at the video, but choosing not to address it - he didn't have time for that shit.
She keeps walking towards comms, opening twitter to scroll through, responding to some, before making a call. "...Special request for dealing with the current threat - requesting permission to open portals to all currently legitimately recognized locales. Mainly the hell dimensions and the dimension of swarming spiders, but, room to branch out if I need, y'know?"
Manny Nannybot
Member
Templar unit, codename Crosswired tilted his head with a mechanical whir. He felt his actuators move erratically. They sped then slowed then sped up again. This was an understandable reaction, if he were in a combat situation. He asked Technician Robert about this.
Technician Robert took a step back. Crosswired, also known as Manny, belatedly realised that his vocoder had phrased the simple question in what could be construed as an aggressive tone. He apologised to Technician Robert. Technician Robert continued to show signs of heightened stress. Manny didn't want to aggravate Technician Robert any further. He turned to Technician Bran. Technician Bran was hiding behind a tool cabinet. Manny thought that this was illogical of Technician Bran. Technician Bran should have known that the tool cabinet was much too flimsy to protect him.
Manny corrected that thought. Violence against Technicians was ill advised. He required the Technicians to repair his damages.
Technician Andy was the only one left. She was propped on a high stool, watching him with large eyes. He approached her.
"Statement. TEcHNICIAN AnDY. THIS UnIT iS -" He stopped when she held out a hand in a gesture he recognised as "silence requested".
"Manny, the knight captain is your friend, correct?"
The Templar unit acknowledged the accuracy of that statement with a nod.
"Manny, we have run diagnostic upon diagnostic on you."
"Statement. ThIS UnIT iS MALFunCtiOniNG."
"Manny, no. I think...that you are upset."
"Statement. ThIS UniT iS NoT PROGrMMED foR EmoTiON."
Andy waved her hands in distress, she looked to Robert and Bran for help, but they just ducked low. She rolled her eyes.
"No... Not emotion. Protection. You were designed to protect. You wrote Knight Captain Cassandra into your protection protocols not long ago. You never wrote her out, did you?"
Manny shook his head, then nodded when he saw that Technician Andy was right.
"I think...that for you to reach peak operating conditions, you have to write Knight Captain out," she raised a hand to stall his protest. "Or, go help rescue her."
Manny considered the accuracy of Technician Andy's statement. He nodded.
"Statement. ThIS uniT WiLL heLp ResCuE KniGht CapTaIN CassAnDRa." He marched to the door. He paused on the still. "Statement. DO noT waIT uP."
Bran poked his head out. "So...money on the knight captain getting out in one piece?"
Andy threw a wrench at his head.
Technician Robert took a step back. Crosswired, also known as Manny, belatedly realised that his vocoder had phrased the simple question in what could be construed as an aggressive tone. He apologised to Technician Robert. Technician Robert continued to show signs of heightened stress. Manny didn't want to aggravate Technician Robert any further. He turned to Technician Bran. Technician Bran was hiding behind a tool cabinet. Manny thought that this was illogical of Technician Bran. Technician Bran should have known that the tool cabinet was much too flimsy to protect him.
Manny corrected that thought. Violence against Technicians was ill advised. He required the Technicians to repair his damages.
Technician Andy was the only one left. She was propped on a high stool, watching him with large eyes. He approached her.
"Statement. TEcHNICIAN AnDY. THIS UnIT iS -" He stopped when she held out a hand in a gesture he recognised as "silence requested".
"Manny, the knight captain is your friend, correct?"
The Templar unit acknowledged the accuracy of that statement with a nod.
"Manny, we have run diagnostic upon diagnostic on you."
"Statement. ThIS UnIT iS MALFunCtiOniNG."
"Manny, no. I think...that you are upset."
"Statement. ThIS UniT iS NoT PROGrMMED foR EmoTiON."
Andy waved her hands in distress, she looked to Robert and Bran for help, but they just ducked low. She rolled her eyes.
"No... Not emotion. Protection. You were designed to protect. You wrote Knight Captain Cassandra into your protection protocols not long ago. You never wrote her out, did you?"
Manny shook his head, then nodded when he saw that Technician Andy was right.
"I think...that for you to reach peak operating conditions, you have to write Knight Captain out," she raised a hand to stall his protest. "Or, go help rescue her."
Manny considered the accuracy of Technician Andy's statement. He nodded.
"Statement. ThIS uniT WiLL heLp ResCuE KniGht CapTaIN CassAnDRa." He marched to the door. He paused on the still. "Statement. DO noT waIT uP."
Bran poked his head out. "So...money on the knight captain getting out in one piece?"
Andy threw a wrench at his head.
Ian Glenisle-Rothcraft
Well-Known Member
Ian watched the video over and over and over. He frowned. He could feel the his mother's will despite that she was across the city. She wanted her tool back. She wanted the Dawnbreak to hurt.
Ian Junior knew about hurting people.
And he was trying to be a good son these days.
Time to scout out for the local Dawnbreak HQ in NYC.
Ian Junior knew about hurting people.
And he was trying to be a good son these days.
Time to scout out for the local Dawnbreak HQ in NYC.
Russell seethes as he watches the video.
It takes him a few minutes to compose himself.
About the time he gets himself under control, his phone chimes with the opening bars of the USMC anthem. No surprise who it is.
No surprise what the message says, either.
After a few, quiet minutes with an equally pensive-looking Ari, Russell heads for the closet, pulling out sturdy, never-be-missed clothes. Over his old black flannel goes a double-carry shoulder rig, and the unconverted .45s from his collection go into it. Always wondered why I picked up two S&Ws, he thinks wryly to himself. The Masamune, resting on a makeshift stand in their room, is grabbed up next.
Finally, he hefted his grandfather's old Army rucksack onto one shoulder. The one with KOBAYASHI and 442nd RCT. stamped on it. The one that had been packed with tools for killing people since Saturday morning. Donning his longcoat, he kisses his wife goodbye.
It was time for another Kobayashi to go to war.
It takes him a few minutes to compose himself.
About the time he gets himself under control, his phone chimes with the opening bars of the USMC anthem. No surprise who it is.
No surprise what the message says, either.
After a few, quiet minutes with an equally pensive-looking Ari, Russell heads for the closet, pulling out sturdy, never-be-missed clothes. Over his old black flannel goes a double-carry shoulder rig, and the unconverted .45s from his collection go into it. Always wondered why I picked up two S&Ws, he thinks wryly to himself. The Masamune, resting on a makeshift stand in their room, is grabbed up next.
Finally, he hefted his grandfather's old Army rucksack onto one shoulder. The one with KOBAYASHI and 442nd RCT. stamped on it. The one that had been packed with tools for killing people since Saturday morning. Donning his longcoat, he kisses his wife goodbye.
It was time for another Kobayashi to go to war.
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LATER, IN VENICE
Terry nods, staring at Blake. "Well, Jer. You're leading it. Venice wants someone with actual skill leading all of this. I'm here as your.. phone operator. You tell me what -you- want and I'll try to get it."
Terry nods, staring at Blake. "Well, Jer. You're leading it. Venice wants someone with actual skill leading all of this. I'm here as your.. phone operator. You tell me what -you- want and I'll try to get it."
"Thanks, Mr. Erekon. I'll appreciate the cooperation. We'll need most of all helicopters for extraction... and maybe..." He looks thoughtful.
Hex
New Member
Considering Alex Morgan's status as a technophobe and his general lack of utilizing the internet, communications networks, and the like, it isn't surprising he's late to the game seeing the video. But he heard about it through word of mouth (no, literally - words from someone's mouth), so the veteran Dragon trudges through the streets on his way to BlackHole PC. He doesn't even own a computer. What a weirdo.
With a single stop to speak with Medrina and Alric (sort of), Alex ends up at the place and begrudgingly sits down at one of the 'special' computers to check his messages.
The video itself doesn't prompt much a response on the man's usually stoic features. But he pulls out his phone and sends a message to the one person he knows - and trusts, because Medrina does.
Alex's lips move as he slowly types out the message. "Hello, Henry. Saw you mention you're after Dawnbreak..."
With a single stop to speak with Medrina and Alric (sort of), Alex ends up at the place and begrudgingly sits down at one of the 'special' computers to check his messages.
The video itself doesn't prompt much a response on the man's usually stoic features. But he pulls out his phone and sends a message to the one person he knows - and trusts, because Medrina does.
Alex's lips move as he slowly types out the message. "Hello, Henry. Saw you mention you're after Dawnbreak..."
"Cool. Well, you have your assault team. Hrm. I can helicopter you guys in and run some of the supporting stuff from there."
"Excellent, thanks. Always glad to have you aboard, Mr. Erekon."
Kate spends a significant amount of time gearing up for the operation. She wears a kevlar vest over a black tank top, and straps metal plates designed to catch blades on the backs of her forearms. Durable leather pants and combat boots make up the rest of her outfit. Time for the weaponry.
A pair of charmed SIG Sauer .40 pistols go in their usual shoulder holsters, warded against anyone else firing them but Kate. Another magical enhancement prevents them from ever jamming. A pair of US cop-style nightsticks go in loops on her belt, one on either hip. Each boot bears a slot on either side into which she slips four well-balanced throwing knives. She slings a Rossberg 590 shotgun on her back, loaded with 1 ounce slugs. Around the bottom of her vest she slips 4 extra clips for her pistols, 2 flashbangs and 2 frag grenades into their waiting slots. But she isn't quite done.
Calling on the strength being a blessed of Gaia provides her, Kate channels a constant flow of anima which enables her to carry in her arms an M60 machine gun, a long belt of ammo contained in a drum fixed to the underside of the weapon. After seeing the footage of the treatment her friend has been going through, Kate is not in a mood to take any prisoners. She lets the gun hang from a shoulder strap, testing the accessibility of the rest of her weaponry, though if it comes to it she'll dump the weapon in favour of better mobility. The Temple Hall armoury will just have to bear the cost. Not that she's authorised to be taking a great deal of what she carries, but the quartermaster had seen the footage too and at the moment is studiously ignoring Kate's presence.
Satisfied, Kate heads out for the assembly point.
A pair of charmed SIG Sauer .40 pistols go in their usual shoulder holsters, warded against anyone else firing them but Kate. Another magical enhancement prevents them from ever jamming. A pair of US cop-style nightsticks go in loops on her belt, one on either hip. Each boot bears a slot on either side into which she slips four well-balanced throwing knives. She slings a Rossberg 590 shotgun on her back, loaded with 1 ounce slugs. Around the bottom of her vest she slips 4 extra clips for her pistols, 2 flashbangs and 2 frag grenades into their waiting slots. But she isn't quite done.
Calling on the strength being a blessed of Gaia provides her, Kate channels a constant flow of anima which enables her to carry in her arms an M60 machine gun, a long belt of ammo contained in a drum fixed to the underside of the weapon. After seeing the footage of the treatment her friend has been going through, Kate is not in a mood to take any prisoners. She lets the gun hang from a shoulder strap, testing the accessibility of the rest of her weaponry, though if it comes to it she'll dump the weapon in favour of better mobility. The Temple Hall armoury will just have to bear the cost. Not that she's authorised to be taking a great deal of what she carries, but the quartermaster had seen the footage too and at the moment is studiously ignoring Kate's presence.
Satisfied, Kate heads out for the assembly point.