[center [pic https://s15.postimg.cc/pwypyl1nf/28947291_1696930453685833_381317954530457443_o.jpg] ] [h3 [size20 A War in the shadows...] ]
[div [size20 [germania+one The monsters of the world hide in dark alleys and dimly lit clubs. They stalk their prey in jungles of the wild and concrete alike. The fight against them has been as old as time. And only the bravest stand between humanity and the dark. That would be you.] ] ]
[div [size20 [germania+one Shit is hitting the fan more frequently than those King Arthur days. And the monsters have gotten very good at hiding their private wars. O.D.D. is there to shut them down where they can. Made up of humans, sorcerers, superbeings and supernaturals alike. They're a force for... maybe not good, but Balance. You've been drafted to the frontline.] ] ]
So this isn't first come first serve. In fact, it's almost private. Though if you impress me. And I mean REALLY impress me. I may let others join. Otherwise this is just for a few friends of mine and myself to shake off the rust and get back in the game.
[h3 [size20 Plot Summary:] ]
O.D.D. has several groups. Intel works small, stalking here and there. Agents work in pairs and small strike teams to do the most damage in secret. And then theirs you. You're the frontline when it really hits the fan. Expendable soldiers on the front line of whatever zombie horde or otherworldly invasion is spewing into the world at the time.
[space+mono [size15 [b Rule 1.0:] ] Pictures should be classified as Digital Art. Try to keep away from anything anime-like and if I can name the character/source... It's an instant NO till you find something else.]
[space+mono [size15 [b Rule 2.0:] ] Joining. You do this by filling out a skeleton and PMing me it. That's it. I'll go through your previous posts myself. And it is NOT first come first serve. So don't feel rushed. If I don't like something, we can work on it together. Okay? ]
[space+mono [size15 [b Rule 3.0:] ] Attitude is a motherfucking must, but keep it in character.]
[space+mono [size15 [b Rule 4.0:] ] Posting will have an order to be determined later. Try to keep it above 1000 characters and keep the misspellings and punctuation errors to a minimum. Everyone has typos, but slapping it into an autocorrect doesn't take much. Otherwise I'm not going to be too picky... for now.]
[space+mono [size15 [b Rule 5.0:] ] The Species and types of things is already set up. Don't make shit up without checking with me first. I've got whole pages of this crap. Some of it will be posted here. Some of it you can even play as. If you DO want to make something up, we'll talk, but it may be added to canon if it's really awesome. OH and a Half- something doesn't mean it has to be half human.]
[space+mono [size15 [b Rule 6.0:] ] Look, I'm an asshole. A tyrant. I'm sure there's a couple hundred words in the dictionary that you can use. None of them flattering. I reserve the right to refuse anyone for any reason, I'll probably even tell you why. I've been around for a while, in ES years I'm a bitter old man. Sorry. Luckily for you folks I'm really needing an rp.]
[space+mono [size15 [b Rule 7.0:] ] Lots of annoying rules, but let's try to have fun, okay? I mean. It's why everyone is here usually.]
[h3 [size20 Character Application:] ]
[b Picture:] [b Picture Link:] [b Username: ] [b Name:] [i First, middle, last, plus whatever. More info means more creative.] [b Alias:] [i I'm gonna be picky here. Might even dish them out unless you have a good one.] [b Age:] [i Depends on the species, check with me.] [b Gender:] [i My brain can only handle 6 of them.] [b Species:] [i Like I said, this is particular. I'll outline a bit below and we'll talk if you have issues.] [b Height:] [i If this becomes an issue I'll ban your ass... You know who you are... >_>] [b Weight:] [i Some things ARE heavier.] [b Eye Color:] [i Some things have 2.] [b Skin Color:] [i This more like a test of your creative talent than anything important.] [b Hair Color:] [b Powertype and Description:] [i There's a list.] [b Known Talents:] [i We aren't Batman... but this should have more than a few things.] [b Known Languages:] [i Useful info. ] [b Quick Bio:] [i Summarize it. Most importantly I want to know who you were before the team.] [b Pertinent Information:] [i Just the tidbits you want people to know that don't fit anywhere else. I.e. tattoos, oddities and extra bits.]
[h3 [size20 Current Cast:] ]
[pic https://i.postimg.cc/FsqfZFhy/kimon-by-rohan-lockhart-d9fv9j2-fullview.jpg] [b Username: ] Daedulusesque [b Name:] [i Anton Wyrick.] [b Alias:] [i Cage.] [b Age:] [i Twenty-Seven.] [b Gender:] [i Male.] [b Species:] [i Demigod - Chur] [b Height:] [i 5'11"] [b Weight:] [i 192 lbs] [b Eye Color:] [i Pale Grey] [b Skin Color:] [i Alabaster] [b Hair Color:] [i Ash Black] [b Powertype and Description:] [i Boundaries.] [b Known Talents:] [i Marksmanship. Paranormal encyclopedic knowledge. Relatively athletic. ] [b Known Languages:] [i German. Polish. English. French. Ancient Slavic.] [b Quick Bio:] [i Being the son of a god is all fun and games. Unless you're father is so obscure nobody knows about him. Anton grew up in Prague, assisting smugglers transporting contraband between Germany, Poland and Austria. Often times this contraband was paranormal in nature. It drew the eye of O.D.D. who cut Anton a deal. One he gladly took to make a name for himself. He knew smuggling would have gotten him killed eventually.]
[pic https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/000/583/695/large/tony-foti-aneightypercentsolution-full-no-copy.jpg?1427523078] [b Username:] [i Dyke] [b Name:] [i Quinn Mannix O’Donough] [b Alias:] [i Jack (Jack-of-all-trades)] [b Age:] [i 27 ] [b Gender:] [i Female] [b Species:] [i Homo Sapien] [b Height:] [i 5’6”] [b Weight:] [i 67KG] [b Eye Color:] [i Heterochromia ] [b Skin Color:] [i Beige] [b Hair Color:] [i Ash Brown] [b Known Talents:] [i Quinn has always had a talent for working with her hands. Mechanics, animatronics, weapons, software. Give her something she can rip apart and reassemble, coffee, and an hour, and she’ll have taught herself at least the basics. She also an excellent tactician. Often feeds the team useful information when they’re out in the field. She is apparently terrible at chess.] [b Known Languages:] [i Scottish Gaelic, Irish Gaelic, English, French] [b Pertinent Information:] Quinn has Celtic runes, long thought lost, tattooed down her arms, chest, and legs.]
[b Powertype and Description:] [+red Cybernetic Enhancements] [b Head:] [i Air Filtration System, allowing Kincaid to breath freely without risk of smoke inhalation or contamination from airborne pathogens and chemicals. Thermal vision. Does what it says. Can detect standard human body heat through several centimetres of dense material. Tactical H.U.D. Displays constantly updated data on temperature, air pressure, radiation levels and the integrity of his own body. As part of this retina-mounted technology, footage is sent to Quinn who can set up waypoints and flag key targets to display directly in his vision.] [b Torso:] [i Blood Filtration Pump. A mechanical addition to his heart, the BFP ensures that anything that makes it into Kincaid’s bloodstream is swiftly isolated, neutralised, and stored in a small vessel mounted where his appendix used to be.Can be turned off wirelessly so he can get drunk. Hemo-Turbine. Basically a water turbine plugged into his heart that uses his pulse to create power for his cybernetic enhancements. Nerve Processing Unit. Allows the wireless shutdown of key nervous systems, allowing Kincaid to not just ignore pain, but not feel it at all. Controlled wirelessly. Has the unfortunate side effect of basically being Multiple Sclerosis with an off switch.] [b Arms:] [i Right Arm Replacement. The RAR is his right hand man. This man’s right hand. This man’s right to bear bare arms; and optionally, bare bear hands. With recoil reducers and aim stabilisers, his pre-existing talent for putting lead through small holes far away is only enhanced. Left Arm Enhancement. The LAE is the layman of this man’s arms. Featuring highly durable skin and skeleton, the LAE is a capable shield against medium calibre weapons and most melee combatants. The palm can also be magnetic, making him very hard to disarm and aiding in the climbing of some structures.] [b Legs:] [i Remarkably, his legs have undergone relatively minor surgery; mostly just joint and muscle enhancements to help cater to moving about his new increased body mass.] [b Overall:] [i Highly Improved Dermal Enhancement: H.I.D.E. is a biological and metallic marvel of Quinn’s own invention involving the grafting of metallic compounds to recently removed tracts of skin before re-grafting it with a hyper-reactive growth enhancing hormone. The result is an outer layer of highly flexible metallic “skin”. A truly brilliant invention, it doesn’t rust, and somehow still allows sweat to pass. It is resistant to cuts and scrapes, whilst its flexible nature helps with metals natural weakness to blunt force.]
[b Known Talents:] [i Trained in marksmanship and quick battlefield analysis. Trained to participate in covert and full-fire operations. Can pull his fingers free of a chinese finger trap. Has experience in the use of heavy artillery and experimental weaponry. Supposedly, a chess expert. Purportedly, the ideal soldier. In practise, not.]
[b Known Languages:] [i Scottish Gaelic, Irish Gaelic, Scottish English.]
[b Pertinent Information:] [i Accent is a strange combination of Scottish, North English, and Irish. Whilst most of his skin is beige, it does have a slightly metallic gloss to it. He has a tattoo of the O’Donough crest over his heart. ]
[pic https://scontent-sjc3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.15752-9/58383187_669281840197323_728177680305881088_n.jpg?_nc_cat=110&_nc_ht=scontent-sjc3-1.xx&oh=d00bcb4ac2cf80873f717d8784fcac81&oe=5D6F6D7C] [b Username:] [i SuzumebachiAngst] [b Name:] [i Amaranth Locke] [b Alias:] [i Black Chess] [b Age:] [i Appearing 23] [b Gender:] [i Female] [b Species:] [i Homo Sapiens Demonica (Hellhound)] [b Height:] [i 5'8"] [b Weight:] [i 140lbs] [b Eye Color:] [i Yellow] [b Skin Color:] [i Pale Gray] [b Hair Color:] [i White] [b Powertype and Description:] [i Hellhound Transformation, becomes one with shadows and smoke. Teleporting in short distances.] [b Known Talents:] [i Tracking/Stalking, Chasing people down, Black Ops skills] [b Known Languages:] [i Latin, English] [b Quick Bio:] [i Summoned from hell by an amateur occultist, Amaranth temporarily served as the black hand for a small conjuration cult. In doing so, she evolved to have a human form and that, combined with becoming more familiar with the world of living, decided to break free from her service to pursue different experiences.] [b Pertinent Information:] [i Hellhound form appears to most non-magic oriented mortals as a black dog.]
[pic https://i.postimg.cc/QdVBN9Rg/2122497-204999905-ed17dd9bf2e3824f218f05e5a45ed6bf.jpg] [b Username:] [i Venomous Hydra] [b Name:] [i Stefano Orsatti] [b Alias:] [i None] [b Age:] [i 72] [b Gender:] [i Male] [b Species:] [i Homo sapiens vampirae - Arachne] [b Height:] [i 5'9"] [b Weight:] [b 193 lbs] [b Eye Color:] [i Stone Grey] [b Skin Color:] [i Olive Complexion] [b Hair Color:] [i Onyx Black] [b Powertype and Description:] [i Spiderwebs made from glands beneath middle, index and thumb nails, each nail suitably sharper to cut webbing when needed. Thin long fangs that retract for injecting venom. Wall crawling via typical Vampirae power. Collapsing retractable spider legs protrude from back, they can act defensively or be used to assist in wrapping prey in webbing. Lightly armored with sharpened tips.] [b Known Talents:] [i Multilingual, vehicle maintenance, teaching, archaeology (normal/mythological).] [b Known Languages:] [i Italian, English, Spanish, French, Latin]
[h3 [size20 Boring but necessary info:] ] [+r The year is 2042!]
[u The Nine Realms and the road that binds them:] [i As discussed by the sorcerous community] [b Click [https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Ha-ugVDBb_HwWR5PX9ar0jvRrNFkJIAt-qYueWXaEc8/edit?usp=sharing HERE] if you want a more in depth explanation.] [u Mortalis - The realm of humanity.] [i a.k.a Earth] [u Celestia - The realm of the angels.] [i a.k.a. Heaven] [u Abyssia - The realm of the demons.] [i a.k.a. Hell] [u Deitana - The realm of the origin.] [u Anderlund - The realm of the fae.] [u Azathoth - The realm of the forgotten.] [u Nativus - The realm of spirits and djinn.] [u Sylvaticus - The realm of the wild.] [u Castellum - The realm of the gods.] [u Eminus - The realm between realms. A winding labyrinthine forest of gateway's, haunted by things best not seen.]
[u The Various Schools of Magic:] [i Necromancy, the practice of reviving the deceased.] [i Conjuration, the practice of summoning beings from other realms to do ones bidding.] [i Abjuration, the practice of warding and charms to guard ones self.] [i Illusion, the practice of trickery and misdirection.] [i Transmutation, the practice of shifting one targets shape into anothers.] [i Divination, the practice of sight. In the past, present and future.] [i Evocation, the practice of calling forth elemental energies.] [i Entrancement, the practice of beguiling your foes into doing your bidding.] [i Enchanting, the practice of applying magical energies to an object.] [i Faith, the practice of belief in a greater power and symbol.]
[u Spell Components required to cast:] [i Verbal - Spoken words.] [i Somatic - Movement of body.] [i Material - Using objects and tokens.]
[h3 [size20 Humanoid Species:] ]
[b Homo Sapiens Sapiens a.k.a. Human] [i Your everyday base average human of various gender/ethnicity.]
[b Homo Sapiens Vampirae a.k.a Vampire] [u Sanguinae:] [i Human turned vampire through blood infection. Basic attributes.] [u Chiroptera:] [i Human turned vampire, evolved for aerial combat and stealth. Batlike.] [u Nosferatu:] [i Human turned vampire, evolved for cave and tunnel dwelling.] [u Draconis:] [i Pure blood vampires. Born and raised as royalty. Elementally inclined. Adept at magic.] [u Sauria:] [i Human turned vampire, evolved for brutality and battle. Lizard-like. Very large.] [u Arachne:] [i Human turned vampire, evolved for trapping and murder. Spider-like.]
[b Homo Sapiens Animalia] [i There's a lot here, it exists, I probably just haven't listed it.] [u Lycanthrope:] [i Human turned wolfman through infection.] [u Ailuranthrope:] [i Human turned catman through infection. [u Loup Garou:] [i Human turned wolf through magical means.]
[b Homo Sapiens Demonica a.k.a. Cambion] [u Incubi/Succubi:] [i Demon of Lust. Feeds off emotion and sexual energy.] [u Imp:] [i Demon of mischief. Low-level demon, known for causing trouble.] [u Drude:] [i Demon of Dreams. Thrives a person's dream, feeding of mental energy.] [u Hellhound:] [i Demon of Hunting. Demonic trackers. Hides well in the shadows.] [u Nightmare:] [i Demon of fear. Haunts in dreams and reality, feeds of terror.]
[b Homo Sapiens Arcana a.k.a. Magic Wielding Humans] [u Witch:] [i Predominantly female caster, specializing in herbs and incantations.] [u Warlock:] [i Predominantly male caster, specializing in elemental spells.] [u Wizard:] [i Caster specializing in summoning and communication.] [u Necromancer:] [i Caster specializing in death and resurrection.] [u Druid:] [i Caster specializing in channeling spirits and nature.]
[b Homo Sapiens Varia a.k.a. Variant/Mutation] [i Humans evolved to survive a dangerous world. Imagine X-men. If you need to discuss it, we can.] [u Seer:] [i Mental abilities, usually pertaining to sight.] [u Immortalis:] [i Physical ability pertaining to longevity.] [u Lancer:] [i Mental abilities, pertaining to striking.] [u Ranger:] [i Mental abilities, pertaining to range.] [u Brawler:] [i Physical abilities pertaining to offense and defense.] [u Cleric:] [i Mental abilities over organic material.] [u Gizmo:] [i Mental abilities over technological material.]
[b Homo Sapiens Mythica a.k.a. All that weird national shit.] [+red We'll talk if you want any of these.] Examples: [i Wyvern Gorgon Harpy Ogre Minotaur Wendigo Tengu Nymph Pixie Siren]
[+blue Non-Living Entity:] [i There are way too many of these. So here's a couple.
[b Non-Physical Entity:] [u Ghost:] [i Typical haunting spirit. Generally still around due to unresolved issues.] [u Poltergeist:] [i Mischievous ghost with telekinetic abilities.] [u Reaper:] [i Spirits tasked with taking souls to rest. ]
[b Physical Entity:] [u Revenant:] [i Truly undead. A soul brought back to the original host.] [u Zombie:] [+blue Playable] [i Reanimated corpse. Brought back by many means.] [u Mummy:] [i Corpse brought back with a vendetta. [u Ghoul:] [i Grave haunting corpse. Strong and fast. Feral.]
[b Construct:] [u Homunculus:] [i A biologically animated being forced into a living semblance.] [u Golem:] [i An elementally animated being forced into a living semblance.] [u Automata:] [i A technologically animated being forced into a living semblance.] [u Animus:] [i Neither living nor dead. Magic and science moving a corpse like a machine, with a soul as a pilot.]
[b Special Circumstance Entities:] [u Afflicted:] [i A being of various kinds afflicted by an outside source, whether it be a curse or possession, to become something wholly different. And often unique. ]
[u Aspect:] [i A creature that symbolizes the very essence of a thing or idea. Some include The Aspect of Survival. The Aspect of Cunning.]
[u Avatar:] [i Much like Aspect, with the difference being its abilities come from an outside source. The current Four Horsemen are Avatars of their attributes. Death, Famine, Plague and War.]
[u Pantheonic Deity:] [i While there are many pantheons, only one may rule at any given time. The current ruling pantheon is the Mason's. The heads of said pantheon, a mortal and a sorceress who obtained godhood, then had children who grew into their own abilities. Deities, while seemingly all powerful due to their creation and destruction abilities and in the past were often worshipped, have become much less powerful over the eons. Now the Mason's mete out justice while fighting a secret war against The Outsiders.]
[b Lazy Roost:] One of the last sanctuary bars running in the world. Caters to oddities, but leans toward the 'good-guy' spectrum.
[h3 [size20 Known Agencies:] ]
[+blue Good:] [u The Mason Pantheon:] [i The newest pantheon, the world's antibody against the Outsiders. Self-appointed buffer between the paranormal and the non.] [u The Four Horsemen:] [i The four 'Strongest' entities. Death, Famine, War and Pestilence. They have been very recently updated.] [u The Occult Defense Department] [i The "O.D.D." are a U.N. run agency to combat the paranormals and police the world. Often works with the Mason's.] [u Military Intelligence Division Zero] [i "MI-D0". The British paranormal police.] [u Special Division Police Department] [i "S.D.P.D.". The American paranormal police.] [u The Agency for Mutations and Psychics] [i "A.M.P.] The other side of the O.D.D. coin. Focuses on the new breed of mutated humans and creatures.]
[+red Bad:] [u Consortium Sanguine] [i Vampiric Mafia.] [u Lykos Symmoria] [i Werewolf Mafia.] [u Sindikat Magi] [i Sorcerer Mafia.] [u La Cabalo] [i Outsider Cult] [u Hisakawa Conglomerate] [i Paranormal based Yakuza family] [u Fonseca Cartel] [i Paranormal based Drug cartel] [u Grand Bay Gangsters] [i West Coast gang of supes and paranormals of all breeds.] [u Fallen Shadows] [i League of paranormal assassin's feared world-wide and even in some other dimensions.]
Neutral: [u Vampyr Regalitate] [i Vampiric royal family. No longer in charge of the vampiric community as a whole.]
[b Charles Mason:] Currently riding heard on the paranormal community as lead god in the new pantheon.
[b Ethan Deckard:] Chosen to run Night Watch. A paranormal/superpowered strike squad working behind the scenes to prevent a dimensional/world war. [pic https://i.postimg.cc/gJQJWVzC/Julian-Jakobs-Jeanot.jpg] [b Julian Jeannot:] Leader of the Occult Defense Department and owner of the Hallowed House. An island sanctuary for the youngest of paranormals and supers. Those who cannot fight.
[b Artemis Penn:] Current head of Military Intelligence Division Zero, holder of Caliburn and newest incarnation of Artur.
[b Malone Mstislav:] The Undying man. Koschei and an O.D.D. agent.
[b Grady Cavanaugh:] North American Varghulf. Mason Pantheon General.
[b Murphy and Maximillien Moreau:] Dragon and Knight. Leaders of Valiant, a hero organization on the west coast, though now branching global. Some of the first superheroes to see the light of day. Also CEO's of Moreau industries. [pic https://i.postimg.cc/DZ8ZHjTQ/Hildegard-Sigrun.jpg] [b Hildegard Sigrun:] [i O.D.D. Agent and Werebear. Tiny human, enormous beast.] [#FFD700 In Gold Squad.] [pic https://i.postimg.cc/zXnfsH9Q/Olympe-Amarante.jpg] [b Olympe Amarante:] [i O.D.D. Agent and Summoner. A descendant of the Morrigan.] [#FFD700 In Gold Squad.] [pic https://i.postimg.cc/15xt7rY6/Yunuen-Amaru.jpg] [b Yunuen Amaru:] [i O.D.D. Agent and Shaman. Spirit seet of Native American origin.] [#FFD700 In Gold Squad.] [pic https://i.postimg.cc/MpqGqKwp/Vala-Ree-Dythec.jpg] [b Vala'ree Dythec:] [i O.D.D. Agent and Soldier. High Elf Fae descendant. Unknown if she is of Summer or Winter court.] [#FFD700 In Gold Squad.] [pic https://i.postimg.cc/9Xw0Bn1C/Kaede-Miyamoto.jpg] [b Kaede Miyamoto:] [i O.D.D. Agent and Swordswoman. Wields a blade haunted by her ancestors.] [#FFD700 In Gold Squad.] [pic https://i.postimg.cc/NFX0fKL5/Moshe-Salathiel.jpg] [b Moshe Salathiel:] [i O.D.D. Agent and Incubus. Inhumanly strong and equally also a talented spy.] [#FFD700 In Gold Squad.]
Roleplay Reply. Do not chat here. (50 character limit.)
"Sentience? Rare... Must be magic then. We're moving out. Meet me on the road to town, that'll be our breach. Easy to follow back. I'll get Yun to ward us on the way in."
Amaranth looks up at Anton who approaches them, "[b Sentience is possible. Yes . . .]" she glances to her left and just briefly spots an after-image of Lord Azhram growling at her before she blinks and it is gone. She scowls and then quickly nods at Anton's command to move out and waves her hand at Kincaid, "[b Good hunting. Don't die.]" She steps back and her form disappears in the shadow under the Tarantula.
Amaranth is the second to arrive on the road to town, Yun already being there already. She feels annoyed that she must wait with Yun, he treats her like an untrustworthy spirit rather than a hell hound that demands fear and respect. He only tolerates her because she hasn't unleashed anything on the others yet, and Anton was the one who introduced her into the team.
"Even the spirit herself is troubled by a darkness that lurks about her," Yun comments, eyes closed, while meditating. He does not turn around to greet her.
Amaranth pads up to his right, maintaining a healthy distance of five feet from him, in her hell hound form, and sits down, "[b Mind your own business shaman. We have a job to complete.]"
"How can I mind my own business when I can sense that you have not completely left behind your past. In fact, it comes to you. A dangerous omen indeed."
"[b Please. You underestimate my willpower. Go back to your meditation.]"
"Demons are not to be trusted."
Amaranth bristles. She has spent many years with ODD, proving her loyalty to the mortal realm again and again, only to have the Native man claim she is still not trustworthy.
"I need not hear you speak to know that my words are unwelcome. It is not your willpower I underestimate, it is the, how would one put this in modern terms? [i Extra baggage] that comes with being a hell hound that stays in the mortal realm; Lord Azhram's pet python released into the wild . . ."
"[b I am no pet [i snake],]" Amaranth snarls, "[b You have shitty metaphors. And don't you dare say his name--]"
Yun smiles, with his eyes closed. Amaranth knows he smiles because of her. She stands up, about to do something to express her anger at his insolence but then halts as she spots Anton arriving on the scene and walking over to Yun. She sits back down and looks away in the direction of the miasma.
Yun looks up at Anton, "I do not sense a malevolence here... it is almost... inviting. The spirit world is on edge though. Almost as if they are blind inside."
"Anything you can do. Prep medical for any survivors. We'll use the outposts for extraction and then transport them here as quickly as possible." Yun nods and goes back to his meditation, not acknowledging Amaranth.
Amaranth huffs, and then lays down, "[b Anton. In the case that we all get out of here. I need to talk to you later.]"
She feels Lord Azhram's bemused eyes on her back, from somewhere, she cannot pinpoint. Amaranth shakes herself, feeling more and more ill-tempered. After all those years left to her own devices, why has Lord Azhram decided to stir up trouble with her now? He could have come to her sooner.
[i I wouldn't trust him . . .]
She glances at Anton, and then looks ahead of her. If she is unable to trust Anton, then she is unable to trust anyone.
[[Okay, guys. Anything in red is alternate and not the actual post. Enjoy!]]
System checks were one of Quinn's favourite times. As much shit as she gave Kincaid, she really did love him, and enjoyed his company. Though, he was rather vocal today. [i Note, lower vocal box volume.] Quinn was ready to dismiss her brother's ravings, until he mentioned the protocol a second time. She shook her head, smiling at her brother. He wasn't the smartest person out there, but he was smart enough to hand this off to someone who could make use of it. "[b Ná bíodh imní ort faoi do cheann beag faoi sin. Déan do phost agus déan do cheann a choinneáil síos,]" she cooed. Kincaid wouldn't react well to anything she found. After making sure everything was back in place and all his systems were fine, Quinn watched her brother heave himself to a stand and head to the door. “Welp. Be’er be goin’. Stay safe, arrigh’?” He grinned at her. "[b Yer the one who needs to stay safe, idjit. Now go out there and give that cloud hell.]" Kin tapped his visor down and gave a salute before leaving. [i Dork thinks he's suave.]
Turning to the nearest computer, Quinn quickly transferred the file Kin had sent her, after she renamed it of course. [b Sparky, Stefano dug this up about Prometheus. See what you can make of it.] A second passed and his only response was an ':)'. Ugh, technomancers. [i Click.] She didn't even need to turn around. She knew who it was, and she knew this had been coming. After a minute of pretending to be busy, she finally turned to him, but he wasn't even facing her. Moments of silence passed, and as Quinn was about to return to her work with a scoff, the next thing she knew, Anton was kneeling in front of her, holding her hand to his cheek. [i Oh, nou. Nou. Nou. Nou. Don' ya dare get any more involved than ya already are.] Still, he wouldn't look at her. It took a few more seconds before he finally began speaking. Sincerity was so rare these days, especially among groups like these. As much as she wanted to forgive him properly, something told her to let him finish. A shiver ran up her spine. Were his hands always this gentle?
In the next moment, golden eyes bore into hers. Too stunned to respond, she had to shake her head to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Two thoughts immediately came to mind. [i Note, check optics.] and [i I want to take those apart.] [+red "If you see these eyes in my face, and you don't see me in them..." he paused a moment, and Quinn was quick to pipe in. "[b Wait, nou, eyes are reflective,"] she scrunched up her nose in thought. "What?" "[b Eyes. They're reflective. I'd see me in them.]" Anton blinked at her and a moment of understanding passed between them. "[b Och, sorry. I've been dealing with Kincaid for ten minutes. I honestly thought I had to explain tha'. Didn't mean to interrupt... yer... this. Keep going.]"] "If you see these eyes in my face, and you don't see me in them..." She watched him stand and turn away from her once more. "I want you to run, and never stop running." [+r "[b bu' ma legs'll ge' tired... Wait. I'll take the Tarantula.]"] When he turned back, it was all business, save for the softness in his eyes. [i Eyes back to normal. I really need to take those apart. Stop it.]
Anton left. Beat. "[b Cad é an foc iarbhír?]" Quinn squealed into her hands, her ears turning a shade of pink. "[b Bhí sé sin níos tarraingtí ná mar ba chóir dó a bheith.]" "What are you screeching about in here?" Calean poked his head around the corner, making Quinn squeak in surprise as she looked up. Both of them paused. "Well that was adorable." "[b Shut it. How long have you been there?]" Another pause. "The entire time." "[b What!?]" The rest of her face turned to same shade as her ears. "You're cute when you blush." "[b Go and do some work!]" Quinn threw a conveniently nearby screwdriver, which he easily dodged, laughing musically as he went. "[b Gods, give me strength to deal with the clusterfuck tha is ma loife,]" Quinn prayed, not to anyone in particular before heading to her alcove and starting up comms. She tucked in her ear piece, listening for a moment. Making a note. She may not see some of these people again. And hell, some of them she actually liked. Some more so than others. A lot more. [i Stop it.]
"Prep medical for any survivors. We'll use the outposts for extraction and then transport them here as quickly as possible." [i Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.] "[b Alrigh' ya wee children, teacher's here to see ya through the day, remember to buddy up an' hold hands,]" she chirped. [i Don't let them know.] "[b Well, I'll be here as long as the comms hold up inside the miasma. I want sound offs before anyone steps foot in tha' Silent Hill rip off. An' keep the idle chatter to a minimum, [i Kin in particular]. After wha' happened in Seoul last month, I'd rather no' draw any unwanted attention from wha'ever untrademarked Pyramid Head bullshi' is inside.]"
Quinn. He hadn't even meant to say her name. What the hell was wrong with him? And the men had brushed his questions off. Something was wrong about all of this, and they didn't trust him to see it through. His focus shifted to Caelen and had to choke back the rattle in his throat.
[i Kill him.]
He slammed his eyes shut and waited till he and Stefano were alone, settling his nerves. Anton could feel all his control fraying like the ends of a worn rope. Not here, not here, not here. He exhaled and focused on the vampires words. "If the order goes out, get Kincaid and as many civilians as you can out of there. I'll do what I can to stall whatever is going to trigger the protocol. Amara can get out easily."
Anton looked over at Amara's human form. A rare sight lately. "Good to hear, Amara. The last thing I want is the source of this to be demonic. We've had enough problems in the major cities without having to worry about these backwoods areas. See if you can spot anything else and be careful."
He put his hand on Stefanos shoulder. "You're part of this crew. I promise you, I will get everyone out of there alive, but I need your help in there. Too much is going on... and you're incredibly perceptive."
Anton flicked his eyes around LZ and leaned close to Stefanos ear. "This OP feels wrong. You're newer, so I'm placing my trust in you here. If anything seems out of place, we need to be ready to move." He gave the shoulder armor a squeeze and then turned away. He slowed and glanced over his shoulder, eyes glowing gold. "This is my team, Stefano. No one dies."
Anton hovered around the door to the Tarantula for a moment, there was no holding back the low growl now. It rumbled and clicked up his throat as he stared at the handle. Luckily Kin bursting out shook him from the trance. They watched each other for a moment, and he had to wonder what the cyborgs visor said about him. He knew Kin kept extensive files, and Anton was open about his father, but right now he wasn't feeling himself. Before the man could quip, he patted his shoulder and moved around him, closing the Tarantula off with a soft click. The hum of machinery was a sound he'd started associating with Quinn. He stayed there, quietly watching her tinker with equipment for a moment. He turned away and ran a hand through his hair, could feel her eyes on the back of his neck.
He gritted his teeth at the voice in his head. In a rush he stormed over, knelt in front of her chair and pulled the back of her hand against his cheek. This was more affection than either of them had attempted before, but he couldn't say what he needed to say without grounding himself. His voice came out strained and he could still feel the rattle in his chest. Eyes clamped shut, he pushed the words out. "I am sorry, Quinn... I had no right to bring up what I said. Everyone here has a past, especially me..." He exhaled a shaky breath. "There are things we need to talk about, before we decide what's happening here." Anton ran his thumb against her palm. Hard working engineer, no soft hands here. "I promise you, I will not let them die. I won't let any of you die while I'm still breathing. You have to promise me though..."
He opened his eyes and showed them to her properly for the first time. He couldn't tell if the shock on her face was disgust or not, but he'd tuck that insecurity away for later. Anton knew his eyes looked like molten gold, swirling and blazing. "If you see these eyes in my face, and you don't see me in them..." He stood and headed for the door. "You have to promise me that you'll run. And never stop running."
He opened the door and glanced back at her. He'd never seen her this quiet. Usually she was berating him six ways to sunday. Not that he minded. Eyes back to normal, Anton forced a smile. "Get comms up, Quinn. We're moving in ten. There has to be something in that mess worth saving." He let the door shut again only to catch Amara's final statement.
"Sentience? Rare... Must be magic then. We're moving out. Meet me on the road to town, that'll be our breach. Easy to follow back. I'll get Yun to ward us on the way in." He could see the dark skinned shaman crouched on the road before the miasma already. Even Anton knew he was an odd one, but then again, talking to spirits that powerful made you a little odd.
Yun looked up as his leader came to a halt next to him. "I do not sense a malevolence here... it is almost... inviting. The spirit world is on edge though. Almost as if they are blind inside."
Anton nodded. "Anything you can do. Prep medical for any survivors. We'll use the outposts for extraction and then transport them here as quickly as possible." Yun nodded and went back to his meditation, leaving Anton to wait for the gathering of his crew. He could feel himself calming. His words had been said and now he had work to do.
Amaranth didn't have the privilege of sitting in a transport near her other similar-leveled comrades. A consequence of almost being late. Nonetheless, she could have made her way to the location on her own accord, traversing the earth and treading very carefully on the border between the mortal world and the underworld. But, like what happened in the meeting room, Anton had requested that Amaranth spent more time in-person with the team . . . which includes [i everybody.] But she can tell that not everybody wants to spend time with her.
She sits at the very end of the transport, buckled into the wall. Her hands are rested calmly on her knees. Ugly, dark, human hands. She can tell that the soldier across from her is holding a rosary in his hand, casting strange looks at her every several minutes. She doesn't care and she looks back down at her hands. They say God made man of the same image as God. Or something like that. It was a strange kind of blasphemy to be a human hell hound. Lord Azhram is especially vocal about it.
When they land, Amaranth hops off with two legs. Typically, she would have ambled along in dog form, cherishing in the attention of pets, treats, and chuckles she gained from other people. However, a dark cloud is cast over her demeanor. No smiles, sarcastic remarks, or dog forms. Just a bad mood. To top it off, she feels like she is being watched.
She walks towards where Stefano and Anton are talking in low voices. Feeling annoyed that she is being left out, Amaranth walks closer and just begins to pick up Stefano's concern,
"...not dying to a Prometheus Protocol order. While I'll do my best to make sure no one dies, missions can go sideways quickly. I'm trying to find an escape plan in case we need to extract before they drop Prometheus Protocol on this place."
She approaches them with her arms crossed, "[b It sounds like this mission doesn't sit very well with multiples of us. Even the vampire. I wonder why.]" Amaranth looks into the direction of the town afflicted with the miasma, "[b I can certainly tell you that it isn't demonic, or from the underworld. But don't expect me to be a part of the dive team heading into the church.]"
Contrary to popular belief, churches and places of worship had no adverse affects on Amaranth. But in a strange way, she respects that they're there, and wouldn't go out of her way to disgrace the spaces with her hellishness. An odd dynamic, between heaven and hell.
"[b Also, I feel like I'm being watched. I'm going to go a bit ways out from camp to get a closer look. Don't worry, I won't violate any protocol.]" After all, reconnaissance has been one of her best talents.
Amaranth gives them a nod and backs away into the shadows of the trees. Blink. She feels the earth underneath her paws. Only Stefano and Anton could see the true beast that appeared to all others as a black dog. The hell hound merges with the shadows and then travels through the trees, casting dark shapes of a creature that moves across the grass. It didn't take long for her to near the large smoky bubble. She stopped and emerged from the trees.
It is dense. Gray. She can barely see past the last of the tree trunks to the other side. The feeling of being watched is stronger now and her fur begins to stand on end. Amaranth bares her teeth and growls, looking around her but there was nothing. However, as she turns back to the smoke, it thins out before her, laying a path into the smoke. [i It is intelligent.] A part of her feels a strong interest to enter, feeling that she is powerful enough to evade any trap she may come through.
But she is no longer a wild hell hound bound only to instinct. Amaranth had military training. And she merges back with the shadows and returns to camp. The miasma closes back up again.
When she gets back, people are still milling around the station. The first person she sees is Kincaid stepping out of the Tarantula. Amaranth pads over to him first, as a dog, blink, and she approaches him from the back, using her hand to turn him around with his shoulder,
"[b Where is the rest of the team? This miasma may be intelligent.]"
Stefano spent a good deal of the trip reading over all of the scrolls, and documents he was receiving. Every little detail could help, yet over-relying on this could cause him to connect things that weren't there. He filtered out anything that had an explanation already. This wasn't something that had an easy explanation. He had brought it down to five scripts, and soon three. Then down to two. He packed everything he had, scanned over the scripts, and then sent the copies over to Kincaid. He then picked up the glasses he would occasionally wear. A light flickered on, and his eyes began to follow movement on the lenses. He read over the documents that were sent to them already, he began grabbing gear before they touched down, and started to equip everything as he mindlessly read over everything. He'd whisper something in Italian, and the document would move to a different folder. He had began draining the information down, anything un-important was sorted aside, anything important was flagged and remained in the shared folder with Kincaid.
As they touched down, Stefano stepped out of the transport, and started walking out. He realized he was a bit stiff, and tried to stretch out, but realized he did something wrong. He took off the glasses and set them away in his pocket. [b "Ora, cosa ho fatto di sbagliato qui?" ] He muttered to himself, as he began patting down his armor. Soon Kincaid caught up to him, obviously seeing him having an issue with the gear. [b "Ah, grazie amico. I was reading and sorting everything on the trip here, I suppose I can't read with those glasses and multi-task." ] He fixed up his armor as Kincaid pointed out. [b "Much better amico. Grazie." ]
He turned and patted him on the back, listening to his whispered summary of the info. [b "Good good, you saw it too. Ah...I unfortunately can't make any more sense of it myself, but just keep an eye open, it may be explained later." ] He held back a scowl as he spotted Anton approaching, rather pretending he didn't see him approach. "Now that we're out of earshot of his royal pain in the ass. What have you two found that you haven't told me?" He listened to Kincaid try to pass it all off, but Anton called him on it.
Quinn soon came up, and he nodded to her. [b "Ah...sì, hard to find trouble in old books..." ] He stopped there, realizing there were quite a few old books which were nothing but trouble. Though he declined on fixing his statement. After Quinn and Kincaid left he looked up at Anton. [b "I'm telling you now, nothing good can come of this. I've done some research on the way here, and there's not much of an explanation here without knowing more. Perhaps if there's an artifact I can get my eyes on, or talk with someone that can describe how it all began. But until then, I'm lost on this miasma business." ]
He then looked around and made sure there wasn't anyone in immediate earshot. [b "I'll be blunt...I'm not dying to a Prometheus Protocol order. While I'll do my best to make sure no one dies, missions can go sideways quickly. I'm trying to find an escape plan in case we need to extract before they drop Prometheus Protocol on this place." ] Stefano crossed his arms, expecting something harsh to be thrown his way, his eyes narrowed, watching for any sudden movements as well. He wasn't looking to get punched right now either, and he'd met plenty of those 'if you can't follow orders, you'll get laid out' types of officers.
The flight over had been boring. Keeping his visor down, Kincaid had tried to send a message to his sister, but she seemed to be busy. [b [i Quinn. Stefano sent me sum documents. Ive forworded them to you. Anton dosent know about them thoh. We’ll talk on the ground.]] The rest of the flight was spent chatting with some of the soldiers, and bantering about old injuries; none of them could top Kincaid. For every injury one of them had suffered, he had suffered two. When that conversation ended, he lifted his visor and sang every song on the Beatles white album, with much groaning and eye rolling as his accent butchered the lyrics.
On the ground, Kincaid took to organising some of the HQ staff. [b “Morris, ge’ ya boys in check. Evan! Wha’ the fook is tha’ on yoor rifle?”] “A suppressor, Agent O’Donough.” [b “And wha’ doos tha’ do?”] “It… suppresses?” [b “It redooses ya muzzle velocity, nump’y! Enemy will be knowin’ ya’ve foired when they drop dead, an’ they’ll be knowing where ya are when they see ya muzzle flash. Tha’ ting jost redooses ya killin’ powah with no benefits.”] “Oh. So I should take it off?” [b “Fookin’ oath lad.”] Looking around for the next hapless young soul to help, Kincaid laid eyes on Stefano. He bustled over, planting a firm hand on the vampires shoulder and looking him up and down. [b “Yoo’va gorrit all wrong, friend. Those straps clip in ‘ere,”] He cinched a few bands up to Stefano’s shoulders, [b “And ‘old ya back platin’ up ta protec’ ya shoolder blades an’ tha back o’ yer neck. If it’s sittin’ low, ya extra appendages is gonna get cooght.”] He picked up the kevlar piece from the table, fitting it in its appropriate spot.
[b “Also, tha’s shoolder pauldrons on ya knees and knee pads on ya shoolders. Moight explain why ya’re walkin’ fonny.”] With another pat on the shoulder, Kincaid’s visor retracted up into his helmet. He gave a wink, and whispered to Stefano, leaning in close whilst he removed the offending knee pad. [b “I go’ tha docs. I ain’t much fo’ makin’ sense o’ this stoff, but I think I get tha gist. Summin’ aboot flames, and knoights.”] He started working on the other shoulder. [b “Soonds loike magic shite ta me. An’ tha’ ain’t my ekspertease.”]
"Now that we're out of earshot of his royal pain in the ass. What have you two found that you haven't told me?" The accent made Kincaid jump imperceptibly. [i Sneaky fookers always fookin’ sneakin’.] Turning around slowly, Kincaid forced a look of delightful surprise onto his face. [b “Ooooh, heya boss! Didn’ even see ya there. Well, I foond tha’ we… need ta dooble down on teachin’ aboot… weapon attachments in tha field! Roight, aye Stefano?”] “Don’t bullshit me O’Donough. You’re a terrible liar.” [b “Roight. Well. Uh.”] Scratching the back of his helmet, Kincaid looked around fruitlessly for an escape... And then he saw it. "Stephano. Keeping out of trouble, I hope," Quinn seemed to be forcing the professionalism today, and barely gave the captain more than a glance. "Boss. Do either of you mind if I steal my brother for final checks? No? Good." “Quinn…” Anton’s lips hardly moved as he half whispered the name. Kincaid noted the intensity of his eyes, gave a glance to Stefano, shrugged, and popped down his visor as his twin pulled at his arm. As the visor slid into position, yet another person arrived. Kincaid's HUD blinked at him.
[i UNIDENTIFIED FRIENDLY] [i Wot? How’s ‘e not on tha books?]
"Chair's ready, Quinn. Kincaid. Stephano. Boss." Kincaid didn’t recognise this american, with the curly black hair and the beard, and yet the stranger seemed to recognise everyone else. Looking around, no one even seemed to be reacting… except for the faintest twinkle in Antons eyes. The light bulb clicked in Kincaids head. [i Must be ah lovah.] [b “Ooooo. Yer on a fuhrst name baysis are ye? Should aye start lookin' at tuxedoes fer tha weddin'?"] "Fook off, Kin. Let's go." He made the universal symbol for ‘I’m watching you’ at the American stranger, and allowed himself to be lead to the infamous chair.
Kincaid could never get over how much technology could packed inside a Tarantula. [i All-Terrain-T.U.L.A., model 48B. All Terrain Travelling Utility Land Armour.] He pressed a button on the side of his visor, ceasing HUD functionalities before climbing into the aforementioned ‘chair’. It was something similar to a dentist's chair, but with a medley of cords and conduits hanging off of it; all neatly organised exactly how Quinn… Kincaid adjusted one of the armrests downwards. It always got in the way when he was in full armour. [i Naow it’s how shey likes ah’.]
He settled himself in, putting his helmet in the port to his right. He watched his sister for a moment, as she flicked switches and loaded programs. Looking around the room, he briefly laid eyes on a strange black logo he hadn’t seen before. [b “Bit a’ online shoppin’?”] “It’s nothin’.” With a single press of a button, the screen switched off. “Plug ye’self in deartháir.” [b “Arrigh’.”] Kincaid started connecting and uncovering ports and motors along his left arm. [b “Sooo… who’s ya lover boy?”] “Wot?” Quinn paused in her work, visibly confused. “Oh, Caelan? Ha! Naw. Dun worry ye’self aboot him Kin.” Kincaid furrowed his brow for a moment, before his eyes narrowed with realisation. [i I’ll hafta bring tha’ op latah. Cannae have her getten’ all confused with tha cap’n.] “What’s with tha’ look?” Kincaid shook his head in response, mumbling something about radio frequencies. Quinn simply nodded in response, before starting to hook in all the cables on his back. [b “Sooo…”] “Wot.” Kincaid winced slightly as she pulled at an internal cable. [b “An féidir linn labhairt faoi shaoirse?”] He looked around; they were very much alone. “Aye.” [b “Maith. Chuir Stefano roinnt doiciméad chugam. Chuir mé chugat iad, ach níor fhreagair tú.”] Head turned quizzically, Quinn rose and started clicking through files until she opened a file transfer utility. “Cathain a rinne tú sin?” [b “Ar an turas thart.”] The program loaded, revealing a quagmire of network connections and active programs being run on other computers, and where they were connected, such as his elbows. At the top of all this, was a transfer request to Quinn’s personal network. “Deartháir… Ní fheicim ach fillteán marcáilte orn ‘porn’.” [b “Ba chosúil gur rud é nach ndéanfadh aon duine seiceáil air.”] He held his hands in the air innocently. “Shíl tú nach mbeadh aon duine amhrasach faoi do dhá dheirfiúr porn a sheoladh?” She put her hands on her hips, disapprovingly. [b “... och. Good point.”] Quinn turned back to the screen and began reading. “Wot is all this?” [b “I told ya’. Doiciméid Sheol Stefano chugam. Dúirt sé go ndéanfadh sé roinnt tochailte, gan insint don chaptaen, agus go raibh sé ag iarraidh orm iarracht a dhéanamh teacht ar bhealach amach as Prótacal Prometheus.”] “... He knows yer dyslexic roight?” [b “I dun think so, naw.”] Quinn turned back to the chair, and went back to work. “Ná bíodh imní ort faoi do cheann beag faoi sin. Déan do phost agus déan do cheann a choinneáil síos.” [b “Arrigh’, dheirfiúr.”] Kincaid already felt better. He still had to keep the secret - [i Alreedy ha’ one close call ‘nuf] - but at least now someone smarter was worrying about it.
They worked together in familial silence. This routine check up was one the twins had done many a time, and sometimes even whilst moving. After ten minutes of twisting, flexing, beeping, and keyboard pressing, the check was done. [b “Welp. Be’er be goin’. Stay safe, arrigh’?”] Kincaid closed the visor on his helmet, gave a lazy salute, and stepped back out into the chaos.
Silent and tense. That's what the flight over had been. Quinn had spent it checking her equipment. And then checking it again. Hidden away in the semi-comfort of the Turantula, an affectionate nickname for mobile HQ that had been supplied by one of the pilots, Amaline, which Quinn had kept. Being in there kept her away from Anton ehich worked because of she saw him now, he'd likely end up on the recievong end of her 'work mode', which involved a lot of swearing, yelling, and switching between English and Gaelic. Right now, she was too upset to even think about making things worse.
Landing ans set up was quick and practiced, despite the disorganosation of having other teams on board. What wasn't as practiced, was the lab jockeys setting up parts of the lab outside the Tarantula. "[b Nou! Don' pu' tha' there! Those cables need ta be attached to the main generator, not tha back ups!]" She ripped the cables out of the hands of two labies and move them where they needed to go. An impressive feat for someone her size. "[b And the Gas Pycnometer stays outside! Along with tha manual testing equipment. I want triple tests on everythin'! Take yer variables into account! And-- Winston! Ge' those pipettes and test tubes in the biosafety cabinet! Are ye moronic or wo'?]" She sighed and tossed the nearest tool at the newbie. The wrench smacking straight into his chest. "[b If yer goin' ta have tha smarts of a wrench jockey, go be one!]" And with that she turned, storming off toward the Tarantula, ignoring Antons stare burning through her. "[b And someone start collecting samples! Don' let it fookin' touch yer skin!]"
Quinn stole into the Tarantula, dropping into her seat snd running her hands down her face. "[b Díothaigh damanta Dé. Tugann siad na cinn dúr dom i gcónaí,]" she groaned as a head popped around the corner. Black, tousled hair and a neat beard greeted Quinn with a lazy grin. "Hitting the Irish early aren't ya, Quinn?" She glared up at the face as the young man moved further into view, leaning against the wall. "You're more irritated than usual." "[b Clearly. The boss and I got into an argument. Nothin' serious. Don' mind it.]" "You know if you ever need to talk, your secrets are safe with me." Quinn scoffs. "[b You Americans aren't subtle, are ye?]" "Not really, no." "[b There is somethin' ye could do fer me, Caelen.]" "Name it." "[b Prep the chair. I need te check my brother before he breaks all his upgrades.]" "You got it, boss."
Quinn smiled up at him before stepping back out into the bleak outdoors. She scanned the group for Kincaid, spotting him with Stephano and... Anton. Even from a distance he demanded every ounce of respect. He just didn't reciprocate to his team. Whatever the three were talking about looked serious and conspiratory, but it did look like they were on the back end of the discussion. Swallowing her pride, Quinn sauntered over to the men, placing her hand on her brother's shoulder. "[b Stephano. Keeping out of trouble, I hope,]" she smiled at Stephano before glancing at Anton. "[b Boss. Do either of you mind if I steal my brother for final checks? No? Good.]" As she began pulling Kincaid away, she heard Anton speak her name softly. Turning back, it looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Of course he did. It was at that moment that Caelen jogged over. "Chair's ready, Quinn. Kincaid. Stephano. Boss." Something changing in Anton's eyes, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced by something darker, because Kin decided then to pipe up. "Ooooo. Yer on a fuhrst name baysis are ye? Should aye start lookin' at tuxedoes fer tha weddin'?" "[b Fook off, Kin. Let's go.]"
Those moments you weren't supposed to look back were the hardest.
The black streamlined transport set down in the open field among the copse of trees. They'd come in silent and as fast as possible, considering the jets immense size. Built like a manta, jet propulsion beneath its wings settled it with a soft noise. A hatch released and Anton led a few armored soldiers in directing a large all terrain vehicle off, followed by a few smaller ones. He snapped directions, sending the others off to their outposts surrounding the town. Speaking of which, the sight of it had stunned him as they had flown in. A cloud of black and gray smoke twisted and lurched like a living thing, obscuring the surrounding area completely. It practically writhed as he watched it. Like oil through the air.
With the mobile lab settled and the research team on-site swarming the new equipment, he watched his team file off the transport before a second similar vehicle set down as well. That one carried more infantry and equipment. A throat cleared to his left and he dragged his gaze to the tiny blonde next to him. "Boss, you're doing the eye thing. And growling..."
Anton blinked and closed his eyes. The rattling sound in his chest stopped, as did the growling coming from Hildegard's. "Apologies Lieutenant. I'm going to collect the Breach team. You and Quinn are in charge of Ground Zero." He narrowed his gaze at the scientists who Quinn was about to tear to pieces for manhandling her toys. "Keep the eggheads from making things worse." He watched a flying wrench bounce off a lab coated goon. "And keep..." He sighed and shook his head.
Hilde snorted and bumped his arm with her shoulder as she walked away. With way too much power for a frame her size. "You don't have to say it, boss. Go dead some dumbasses." Anton grunted and to Kincaid who was instructing Stefano on wearing the combat gear appropriately. He stood over the two for a moment. "Now that we're out of earshot of his royal pain in the ass. What have you two found that you haven't told me?" There was a reason he was in charge. Not a damn thing escaped him, and these two were snooping.
“And if you’re afraid of a little napalm rain-“ [b “Oil pack me brolley.”] “- you shouldn’t have signed up on my team. People get burnt.” [b “Oh.”] He noted the serious looks around the room. No one else was laughing, and the air was thick with tension. [i Loike a meeasma in ‘ere.] He noted the interaction between Anton and Julian, raising an eyebrow. [i Shite. T’is serious den. Oil hafta pack ‘eevy.] Kincaid rose from his seat, and looked around at the rest of the squad as people started filtering out. [b “Dun worry yer pre’y lil heads. We’ll be roight as rain an’ quick as yer loike.”]
Kincaid placed his cigarette back into his mouth, trading a few nods and winks. Shortly, it was only himself and Stefano in the room. Kincaid peered at the map, looking for the most efficient route. There were several options. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and a soft voice in his ear. [i Shite he’s quiet.] "Something is very wrong here, I'm going to find out what I can on this miasma, but I need to count on you to watch my back, and I'll do my best to keep you and the Gold Squad safe, but if this goes side ways, I'll need your help on manoeuvring around this...Prometheus issue." Stefano’s face looked heavy with concern. Kincaid cast a sideways look and grinned at him. [b “Oil pack a big brolley. We can share.”] There was only a nod in response, before a phone materialised by his ear. "Ragazzo, pull everything, and I mean everything that references miasma, gas, toxic air. Anything could be useful. I'll be taking the restricted items, and you'll be scanning everything else and linking it to me." [b “Restricted items? Well, tha’ do sound moighty interestin’ loike, aye?”] "I have a feeling this isn't going to go the way we need it to. I'll have my tech send you some links, particularly on the times this protocol has been used, I want you to try and find a weakness in it, there must be a way to escape with our lives." [b “If dere’s summin’ I’m good a’, i’s probin’ for weaknesses.”] And with that, Stefano walked away. Kincaid just watched for a second, marvelling at the quality of the suit he wore, before following suit himself.
He loitered for a moment outside as Stefano sprinted away. [i Moighty big horry... bu’ I loike tha cut o’ his jib.] After a moment, Amaranth took stride alongside him as the two slowly walked towards the living quarters. “Prometheus again. I remember the last time I was working on that protocol. A year ago, lab project gone wrong…” He smiled at the memory. He’d been in medical recovery at the time after his nerve shutdown surgery. Upon hearing that his team were under Prometheus Protocol, he activated his implants to shutdown the searing pain over every inch of his body, and insisted that the poor unsuspecting cargo VTOL pilot loitering on the flight pad take him there ASAP. He missed the mission, but made it just in time for the extraction. The pilot received a medal for that one , whilst Kincaid served three weeks doing dishes in the mess hall. He didn’t understand the problem at the time; surely the lives of his team were worth more than one measly cargo carrier being crashed into the front of a building? [b “Damn shame. I missed oot on sum foon back then. Say, wot ever did ‘appen to tha’ project-“] “Actually I just remembered that there’s something I need to deal with. Catch you later.” [b “Fair nuf. Oil catch yer at tha pad.”] He gave her a pat on the back as she left, before turning to talk to the rest of the team; but they had all dispersed. [b “Erryone is on edge now. Dun loike it none, naw one bit.”] He gave a swift hello and a punch on the shoulder to a passing soldier he’d served with once, and moved on. He had his own preparations to make.
A pair of albino goldfish swam lazily in the bubbles produced by a small yellow submarine as a few pellets of food floated past them. [b “Arright Ringo, arright Lennon. Be good now! Oil ‘ave Tomas feed ya.”] He’d already sent the trainee a memo. [b [i Gone on michon. Miyt not be bak kwickly. Pleese feed fish. Thanks bud!]] Tomas was a good kid, though as clumsy as they come, yet Kincaid had absolutely no qualms about entrusting his precious pets with him. With the animals taken care of, he turned his attention to his personal armoury. The fun loving jovial man that entered his quarters would not be the same that came out.
The one that came out would be a fun loving jovial man in top of the range Cybro-Arms defensive gear , a Chameleon grade Ghillie cloak, and ALICE5 webbing. Strapped on his hip would be a .50 calibre round firing monstrosity of a pistol, whilst on his shoulder would be his customised DMSMR; Designated Monster Shooter Marksman Rifle. With more attachments than any sane man could possibly have need of, it was the ultimate in mid to long range semi-automatic weaponry… but Kincaid was more than one sane man.
In his pouches and pockets would be specialty rounds for every occasion, jerky, a few smoke and fragmentation grenades, jerky for Amaranth, and a flask of whiskey. Satisfied that he was all geared up and ready to go, he looked longingly at the green metal object sat on his work bench. He would have loved to bring it, but with the interference issues… [b “M’be neks toime girly.”] He opened the door, and proceeded to step out-
[b “I foil loike I forgot summin’.”] Patting his pockets and pouches, he sighed, reached back into his room, and grabbed a packet of tobacco and papers… and some more jerky. [b “Roight. Les go. Neks stoop, lif’ off.”]
As he took his short strides towards the flight pad, a passing administrator gasped as she nearly bumped into him. [b “Sorry luv, yer roight?”] “Mister O’Donough?” [b “Aye.”] “I hardly recognized you. Off to a mission?” [b “Oh aye.”] “Well… stay safe, okay?” [b “Oil be shore ta ask the baddies noicely naw to shoot a’ me.”] The pretty young lady giggled a bit, and continued on her way. He could understand why she had a start. He cut an imposing figure. The gunmetal grey of the armour pads, the heavy pistol and rifle, and face covering mask alone would be sufficient. With no eye slits, just a pair of vertically aligned lights for illuminating his path, he looked like some sort of robotic menace. And truth be told, he damn near was.
A few minutes later, the internal display on the mask started flashing notifications. [i Looks loike those docs are ‘ere.] Resigning himself to some light reading on the flight over, he focused his mind. [i Le’s see wot you ‘ave for me today, miss fate.]
Stefano looked over to Anton as he began giving orders. His brow quirked, but he held back a grimace. [b "Sì, of course sir." ] Knowing he was now going to be on foot, in the midst of the miasma, he was far more tense. While he did have his extraordinary powers, he wasn't invincible, in fact he was a bit more fragile than the other more common vampire species. He looked at his watch, and realized he did not have much time to get prepared for this type of mission, especially with how much he needed to research. He certainly wasn't going to leave any scrolls that reference gas, miasma, or anything that could relate to this situation. He believed knowing history, often helped counter the unknown in the future.
He then heard the words Prometheus Protocol. This time the grimace slipped. Surely they could not be serious, one of the head researchers, being sent out to die like this? This wasn't seriously what they considered a proper mission, something bad must have happened already, worse than just losing a squad, or even a meager population to pull out Scorched Earth orders like that.
As soon as Anton left the room, he lingered for a moment, watching Amaranth leave, Julian gone as well. He looked at the rest of the squad, and Kincaid. He stepped up, placed a hand on his shoulder, and whispered quietly to him. [b "Something is very wrong here, I'm going to find out what I can on this miasma, but I need to count on you to watch my back, and I'll do my best to keep you and the Gold Squad safe, but if this goes side ways, I'll need your help on maneuvering around this...prometheus issue." ] He nodded to the man, and pulled out his phone, quickly dialed a number, and placed it to his ear. [b "Ragazzo, pull everything, and I mean everything that references miasma, gas, toxic air. Anything could be useful. I'll be taking the restricted items, and you'll be scanning everything else and linking it to me." ] He hung up the phone and looked back up to Kincaid. [b "I have a feeling this isn't going to go the way we need it to. I'll have my tech send you some links, particularly on the times this protocol has been used, I want you to try and find a weakness in it, there must be a way to escape with our lives." ]
After the short conversation with Kincaid, he steps out of the room, he checks his watch, a scowl across his face now. He begins sprinting to the archives, he needed everything he could carry. He ran into the room, several documents and scroll cases placed on his desk. He grabbed some, scanning over them. "Oh! Boss, I found these too, and the amulet you asked about earlier is in the drawer, had to make space for the scrolls." He looked back to the young man. [b "Good, stuff isn't good here, I need you to do me a favor, and keep it quiet, like dead quiet. If anyone knows we looked into this, someone could have our heads. Look up, and find any documentation on Prometheus Protocols, I want you to send it directly to me and agent Kincaid. Use secured back channels, this information can not, and I can not stress enough, NOT be sent to the mission team." ]
He pulled the documents and scroll cases off the desk, and pulled open the side drawer, he looked at the amulet, it was ancient, unknown, there was nothing on it, he couldn't even place the era it came from, the dark blue metallic base of it, the runes carved into it, whatever it was, it was from an ancient dead race, perhaps not even from this planet. He grabbed it, and slipped it into an evidence baggie, and placed it in his pocket. [b "I'm going to suit up, do your best amico. And thanks for all the help if I don't come back, I'm glad this old archive will be in your hands." ] He stepped out, and headed to the barracks to begin gathering his gear.
" . . . I'm hoping Amara, Kincaid and your conditions will keep you alive in there."
Amaranth scoffs, glancing over at Stefano. She was quite sure most vampires wouldn't be needing any protection.
"Frankly... I'm not expecting survivors. We're heading to those locations for evidence. Clues. Anything that can help us shut this down. This doesn't feel like the end result. This feels like the calm before the storm."
"[b I wouldn't be surprised if marching into the point would be walking right into a trap. But I suppose that's why you have us going in there first,]" comments Amaranth.
"Prometheus protocols are in effect." Amaranth looks up in surprise as well. "Which to some of you newer folks, mean if the four of us don't come out of there. They wipe that town off the face of the earth."
"[b Must be serious then.]" In a strange way, Amaranth wasn't afraid of dying, because she knew where she'd go: back to Hell. And in another way, less strange, she didn't want to die for the exact same reason. Perhaps oblivion was a better after-life option. The only thing that annoys her with higher-stakes missions was the increased risk of her teammates, knowing that they may not be going to the same place as her.
"So. I need your eyes on site. We go in. Shut down the miasma, and clear the zone for ground troops to move in."
"We're on a timer here people. Get your things together. And if you're afraid of a little napalm rain... you shouldn't have signed up on my team. People get burnt."
Amaranth nods, and leaves after Anton. She learned early on to not leave the conference room by the shadows because it made her isolated from the team. Anton had been wanting her to depart on foot like everybody else, to chat with everybody else, team bonding. She sidles up to Kincaid and half-grins at him, "[b Prometheus again. I remember the last time I was working on that protocol. A year ago, lab project gone wrong . . .]" Amaranth spots a very familiar black figure from the corner of her vision. A figure that nobody else can see, and that exists in her own consciousness. Her mood sours, "[b Actually I just remembered that there's something I need to deal with. Catch you later.]" she says, abruptly leaving Kincaid to go straight to her room.
Upon entering her room she knew she was alone, but when Amaranth looks in the mirror, there is a presence. Behind her, in the mirror, was another hellhound, except bigger, and with a darker red in its eyes.
"[b To whom do I owe your wonderful visit, Lord Azrhram?]" she stares at him, crossing her arms.
"Your human form is repulsive. As is your . . . [i doglike] habits. I never would have imagined my Amaranth stooping as low as waiting for scraps of duck during her past time," he says, his fanged mouth open ajar.
"[b I am . . . having fun,]" in a blink, she has returned to her hellhound form, growling and baring her teeth at her old superior, and lover at the mirror.
"Why don't you return to the Underworld. Your summoning contract has long expired. It is where you belong."
"[b I belong nowhere. Thank you.]"
Azhram laughs, "My darling. You are much better this way. Though I can tell your power grows weaker the longer you linger away from home. One day you will certainly be reduced to some mutt, you won't even remember who you are. And I will grieve that my dear Amaranth, once one of my most powerful demons, has become nothing more than a mortal's toy." Amaranth's growl deepens.
"[b What other good news do you have to tell me?]"
"If you want to know, this place you will enter . . it is not demonic, if you suspect it might be. I have nothing to do with it. And I wouldn't trust [i him]."
"[b Don't tell me who to trust!]" Amaranth snarls lunges behind her and her fangs clip onto nothing. She seethes for a moment, trying to imagine blood and fur in her jaw, "[b . . . . you of all demons.]"
Once again, she is alone in the room.
Amaranth gathers herself and angrily leaves her room, nearly slamming the door closed in her human form. She looks down the hallway and hears the faint voice of Quinn somewhere behind the walls.
Three stages. Anger or panic, Quinn couldn't tell. Prometheus Protocol was one of the most extreme, and one hardly ever used, for obvious reasons. Strange that Julian would implement it when the O.D.D. knew next to nothing about the situation. He knew something, and wasn't giving up that information. Closing her eyes and taking a breath, she checked her mic was muted. "[b Get into Julian's files. I want to know everything he does.]" There's a pause as a series of synthetic blips sound from a nearby monitor. "[b If he thinks he can risk my teams lives... My brother's life... Anton... without a real explanation, he has another thing coming.]"
Quinn stood up, her desk chair rolling half way across the room with the force before it came to a shaky stop. Pulling her lab coat back on, that had, at some point, been discarded onto her desk, she stormed toward the door. Pausing, she turned back to the screen. "[b Oh, and,]" a face appears on the monitor. A young, handsome man, though with features not entirely human. "[b Don't let them catch you, Sparky.]" The man nodded, face disappearing into the obscurity of electrics once again as Quinn left the room, the hiss of the door a reminder of what she'd have to do.
After ten minutes of dodging people in the hallways, she finally made it to her destination. In the living quarters, it looked like every other door. Nondescript. A number identified it, though Quinn barely registered it any more. She knew her way here by heart. In trepidation, she touched a finger to the door pad. The door slid open. Typical. No matter what mood he was in, he always forgot to lock it. Stepping in, Quinn drank him in. Pacing. Face lined in agitation and something else. Fear, maybe. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leant against the door frame as the panels slid shut behind her. He didn't stop pacing, or even look at her. He knew her too well at this point.
"[b Prometheus?]" she started, voice etched with irritation. "[b That's little... scratch tha, completely extreme.]" He stopped pacing, dead in the center of the room and turned to her. It was unfair how attracted she was to him. Quinn had spent most of her life going from partner to partner, fearing what it meant staying with any one too long, but there was something about Anton. Something he hid. Something she wanted to help with. "You think I want this?" "[b Tha's not wha' I said.]" "You were thinking it." Typical, gruff, short responses. Anton wasn't one for words in general, but these brushoffs were his way of saying he wasn't going to question orders. Again. "[b Don' you dare pu' words in ma mouth!]" Quinn huffed, running a hand through her hair, fingers lining a scar that even Anton hadn't found yet. "[b You cannae seriously be considering it though. That's yer team goin' in there, Anton. [i Our] team. Yer goin' ta risk them withou' even knowin' wha' we're up against?]"
She watched as his shoulders tensed. She was surprised he could pack any more tension into them. She was going to have to work out those knots later. [i Focus]. "Orders are orders, Quinn. I don't make them, I just follow them." "[b When yer in the field, the team follows yer orders. If you don' give i', i' don' 'appen. Tha's ma little brother your sending in there. I don' want to lose you either, but I know I cannae tell you no' to go. Yer too stubborn fer tha', bu' if you ge' ma brother killed, I won' ever forgive you.]" "Hopefully it won't come to that." Quinn scoffed, rolling her eyes in tandem. "[b 'opefully? Listen to yer self. We're no' much of a team if they're tryin' te blow us up every chance they ge'. Jus' don' follow the order.]" "Because that worked so well for you in the Navy."
Beat. Quinn blinked, her arms slipping to her sides, mouth sliding open as she stared at him. All too late, he'd realised what he'd done, just as an obnoxious beeping sounded from Quinn's watch. "Quinn, I didn't --" He reached out to her, but she pulled away as the doors slid open behind her, expression turning impassive. "[b Nou, yer righ'. I' never go' me anywhere, cept righ' 'ere.]" The doors slid shut. Quinn waited a moment. Anton didn't follow.
Entering her lab, Quinn practically threw her chair toward her desk, frustration radiating off her in waves. It was the first time she and Anton had fought, but she knew when it came to her or orders, it would always be orders that won out. The beeping from her watch had stopped some time ago, but she knew what it was. She sat down, running her hands over her face. "[b Tell me you have somethin', Sparky,]" a chuckle sounded from each monitor, creating a chorus of synthetic snickers. "[s Trouble in paradise?]" "[b My version of paradise has a lo' more people involved. Statin' te think this was a bad idea.]" "[s You were the one who insisted.]" "[b I just wanted to sleep with him, no' ge' invested. What are you, my fookin' therapist? What did you find, Sparky.]" "[s You're worse than Lathan...]" A sigh comes from a monitor to the left. "[s There wasn't much. There was mention of a revenant, and I cross referenced that with your data. Same guy. Seems a bit strange that he was blacklisted and just left, but anyway. There was a memo that simple said 'Don't risk upsetting the Horseman'. Didn't say which Horseman. And then there was this --]" Each screen is suddenly covered by a symbol, one Quinn hadn't seen before, but still looked familiar somehow. A black circle with three swirling lines at it's center. "[b Mean anything to you, Jack?]" Quinn grimaced. "[b Maybe. I never did much research into the Horsemen. Bu', this symbol - the miasma. A revenant? Pestilence? No. Pestilence wouldn't be this obvious. Death? Bu' Death would be way more obvious. Unless.]" "[s Unless?]" "[b You cannae jus' kill a revenant, can ye?]" "[s Not that I'm aware of. I believe they have to be... collected.]" Quinn leant back in her chair. "[b I need to do some more diggin' on this. Miles Johnson has somethin' te do with i', I'm sure. Bu' i cannae take this to Anton ye'. He'd have my head after that fight and he found out I broke into Julian's files.]" "[s Technically, I did that.]" "[b Yeh, and how many people actually know yer here?]" "[s Good point. I'll keep working on my end. Keep me posting, and I'll try to delay the Prometheus Protocol from being activated. Don't die, Quinn. You're the first person I've come to like in a long time.]" "[b Thanks, Sparky. I suppose I better get packing.]"
Anton leaned against the table and stared at the map. [+b "Communication from inside have been essentially nonexistent."] He looked at the cameras. [+b "They HAVE tried drones. From what little readings they have, its not shutting the tech down. Unfortunately there's no information coming out."] He waved a hand near the map and four pictures appeared. [+b "We're going in because the soldiers who went in. These four men. Vanished without a trace."] He shot a glare at Stefano. [+b "We're all combatants here. It's time you stepped out of the library and stepped into the trenches with the rest of us. I'm hoping Amara, Kincaid and your conditions will keep you alive in there."]
He stood and looked to each of them. [+b "Frankly... I'm not expecting survivors. We're heading to those locations for evidence. Clues. Anything that can help us shut this down."] He motioned to the purple outline around the town. Then looked at Val. [+b "This doesn't feel like the end result. This feels like the calm before the storm."] The elf nodded silently. Anton was learning to trust the woman's sixth sense for danger.
Julian cleared his throat and looked around. "Prometheus protocols are in effect." Anton snapped his gaze up. [+b "Which to some of you newer folks, mean if the four of us don't come out of there. They wipe that town off the face of the earth."] He pointed to Stefano. [+b "So. I need your eyes on site. We go in. Shut down the miasma, and clear the zone for ground troops to move in."]
He turned off the projection table. [+b "We're on a timer here people. Get your things together. And if you're afraid of a little napalm rain... you shouldn't have signed up on my team. People get burnt."]
With one last glare he headed for the door. Shoulders tense. Julian stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and gave him a worried look. Anton shook his head, but he could feel the sweat forming on his forehead.
He slammed a fist against the door control for his quarters and it slid closed behind him. Damn fancy doors didn't even give him a satisfying way to vent. The room was damn near empty. A folding cot sat against a far wall. A dresser for clothes and that was about it. He crossed it and placed his hand against the wall. A hidden drawer popped out of the wall and he slid it open. He quickly pulled the coin from earlier and dropped it in. The metal clinked off other trinkets like it. Anton closed it with a sigh. Damn his father for this... He rolled the tension out of his shoulders and took a deep breath. He sat on his spartan-esque bed. All he could see was the faces of those missing soldiers. There was work to be done.
Stefano looked over at Kincaid, and gave a light shrug. [b "I suppose it was silly of me to think this was all that was going." ] He gave a chipper smirk, and faded back, leaning against the wall. He watched as the members of Gold squad shuffled in, giving greetings and looking over some of the information displayed. He took a quick glance at each one of them, and held back a whistle for a few of the lookers. He glanced over and noticed the hellhound creature staring at him for a brief moment. He quirked his brow inquisitively. Though he hardly saw most of these people, he was well aware of them, and he wasn't sure any of them had paid him any particular mind, since he was always in the dusty archives. He averted his gaze and looked back to the mission briefing.
Listening in over the briefing he nodded along, and quipped in response about his part of the plan. [b "Sì, I wouldn't say I'm very durable in combat, so I'd like to remain with a group, or wait until the area is cleared, if that's alright." ] He looked over the map as Kincaid gave his plan. Though he wasn't a soldier, or tactician, it did seem tactically sound, though battlefields always had their ugly surprises from what he read.
[b "I can't disagree with his thoughts." ] He mentioned, and looked around the table. Though it didn't seem like anyone had anything to oppose it with yet.
"[b More specifically, grease and duck,]" Amaranth responds in a low rumble as she consumes a jerky in a single gulp. She tilts her head against the direction he scratches her, appreciating that she had chosen a cyborg, "[b Much ultility, very good.]"
She glances at Stefano as she listens to the de-briefing, her eyes narrowing. From her experiences before she entered the mortal world, vampires were messy to deal with and difficult for her to trust. That, and Amaranth likes to be the only creature of hellish nightmares and now she had to compete for that spot.
"We'll widen our cage around the town. I don't want anything coming out without us knowing. Kincaid, Amara and I will be vanguard. Stefano, you're our best resource to figure out what the hell this is. I want your eyes and ears open for any clues of the origin."
"[b Sounds like a plan,]" like many good bois, Amaranth wasn't one to complain about orders. Hellhounds aren't predisposed to have strong morals, she hasn't even learned about morality until she came to know and work with humans, and learned that this was how to get around in the world where her kind would easily be killed if she let on what she truly was to the wrong crowd. Following orders from somebody else who won't kill her was good enough for her. She would both protect vulnerable girls, and tear out their throats--depending on the situation, "no questions for you. Just hope the miasma doesn't affect myself,]" she knew that when she attacks or moves from place to place, she emits a kind of smoke and interacts with the air around her. What an interesting mission this can be. Or deadly.
When Kincaid handed her the last piece of jerky and stopped petting her, Amaranth changed to her human form, going from large black dog, [i blink] to a medium-sized woman with bleached hair, pale gray skin, and wearing a long black jacket. She held the piece of jerky with her hand and chewed on it still.
"Also, do we have a time estimation? Can I bring ma cats?"
Amaranth smiled and looked into the camera where Quinn was watching them, "[b Yes, do bring the cats. I love cats.]"