Mathuen
Junior Member
马萨诸塞州, 中华人民共和国 (Trapped Yo)
Posts: 70
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Post by Mathuen on Feb 1, 2016 7:57:54 GMT
Joshua was stumbling, well had been stumbling, now he was tumbling, tumbling down a mountainside with his feet flaring and his back jerking every which way. This was, admittedly not how he had expected the day to go. Just a few minutes prior he had been taking a lift to the top of said mountain, hoping to begin a long fulfilling week of skiing. Nearing the top of the mount however Joshua was met by his frie-pee-acquaintances from Keter. They had decided to make their entrance by way of a helicopter skyhook, picking him up in style must have been their intent, but instead they had merely blown the lift about and knocked Joshua out of it.
Joshua would not reach stable ground for another 10 minutes. All the way down he took limited solace in his relative indestructibility*, his mind mostly focused on feeling his lobes and nose constantly bashed about.
When he finally reached the end of his short career as a human rag doll Joshua found that Keter had supreme difficulty finding him. He would later find out that the unit sent to recover him had been told that he would look like an Irishman with amber hair, but to the eyes of all around him apparently he took the form of a long, raven haired, greek**. Alone, shaken, and scrambling around at the bottom of the mountain, Joshua realized he'd have to be taken in eventually and so resorted to simply booming that he would start spilling state secrets if he wasn't picked up quick. It was nary half a minute before he was found, yoinked into the air, and began his new career as a flying yoyo on the way to Fort Hood.
------
Joshua, making his way into the dull grey room, shook various leaves and indiscriminate matter off his clothing, remains from when the helicopter crew decided to use his dangling body as a wrecking ball on the way over. As the last bit, a rather large oak branch that had stuck to his back, fell off, Joshua looked around at the various... people that were now, what he presumed, his teammates.
"Oh, groups. I love groups. Well, not all groups. Not filthy imperialists or the Chicago Cubs, but most groups. We're a group now i'm guessing. A group doing lots of spooky scary skeleton stuff, perhaps a Squad for the Sophisticated Society on Solving Salacious and Scintillating Spooky Scary Skeleton... um, Somethings."
* (Not being able to be hurt at all like implied in the character write-up seemed too OP for me, so I was thinking that beings like Joshua simply aren't harmed by kinetic damage, which is why the Brits could fire countless volleys into them with no effect) **(Feel free to decide what your character perceives Joshua as long as it is humanoid. Various vaguely masculine looking European and Mediterranean forms are the most common that people see, but you are not common people, so do what you want)
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Post by MinnesotaNationalist on Feb 1, 2016 9:15:09 GMT
"Oh, groups. I love groups. Well, not all groups. Not filthy imperialists or the Chicago Cubs, but most groups. We're a group now i'm guessing. A group doing lots of spooky scary skeleton stuff, perhaps a Squad for the Sophisticated Society on Solving Salacious and Scintillating Spooky Scary Skeleton... um, Somethings." The Nobxing looked at the strange man who just spoke such a strange sentence. He didn't even understand most of it, and he was convinced that most in the group didn't either, despite them being more well versed in English. Not only that, but the strange man also looked strange. The Nobxing couldn't quite put a finger on it, maybe he looked familiar? In fact, is he even a man? He took another look around the room filled with all these strange... Well, he would say people, but some of them don't exactly fit in that category. In fact, probably according to the ignorant, majority population across Earth, probably not a single face in that room could be defined as a person. Most notable among them (of which the Nobxing couldn't help but to stare) was the tentacle-lady, but also a Blond American who keeps babbling on about a friend of his (Who Nobxing is convinced is imaginary), A bright, colorful man who has an aura of death around him, a German who got their powers through Super Hero logic, a Russian woman who can't go three words without pissing the Nobxing off. And then, their's of course himself, the guy in the dark cloak who's hands are still handcuffed for some reason. There's others of course, but they don't keep his attention for more than 5 seconds, even the translator.
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Post by tardis218 on Feb 1, 2016 20:41:44 GMT
Joshua, making his way into the dull grey room, shook various leaves and indiscriminate matter off his clothing, remains from when the helicopter crew decided to use his dangling body as a wrecking ball on the way over. As the last bit, a rather large oak branch that had stuck to his back, fell off, Joshua looked around at the various... people that were now, what he presumed, his teammates. "Oh, groups. I love groups. Well, not all groups. Not filthy imperialists or the Chicago Cubs, but most groups. We're a group now i'm guessing. A group doing lots of spooky scary skeleton stuff, perhaps a Squad for the Sophisticated Society on Solving Salacious and Scintillating Spooky Scary Skeleton... um, Somethings." "Hello?" Mortz said, walking towards the man and extending is hand. a German who got their powers through Super Hero logic ((Sush ))
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Post by lightninglynx89 on Feb 1, 2016 21:53:02 GMT
Laurence leaned back in his chair a bit. He began rubbing his index finger and thumb slowly together. He focused in on the small rubbing action and watched as small sparks and embers formed at his action. He was just doing something to pass the time, however it always amazed him whenever he did this action. It kind of reminded him of a Mutant from a Marvel comic. He smiled at that thought, he may have not been born with this power, but he learned it through many years of hard work. And no end of various degrees of burns on his body. But Kasi, bless her heart, was a very patient teacher with Laurence, and that was one of the many things Laurence appreciated her greatly for. Her ability to put up with his happy and too free caring nature.
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Post by Krall on Feb 2, 2016 10:44:09 GMT
The door to the conference room swung open, and a figure stepped in - stooping to get through before pulling themselves up to their full height once inside. A severe-looking white man in an impeccably ironed black suit regarded the group coolly, his eyes hidden behind opaque sunglasses. Bald and plain, his only notable features were a bushy chevron moustache and a small chakra tattoo on his forehead. After a few seconds he nodded wordlessly and turned to close the door behind him, drawing a complex sigil made of long lines and half-circles on the door with a black marker before turning back to the group. He strode forward past them to the head of the table, speaking as he walked.
"I apologise for the haphazard manner you've been brought here today," he growled, "But matters like this require quick, decisive reaction, and our agents aren't selected based on how good they are with people." He stopped, placing a small black briefcase on the table before him. "There's an organisation known by a wide variety of codenames: the Illuminated College, the Columbian Luminaries, the Do Re Mi, the Secret Masters, AA-01, the Shining Council, or - most commonly - Keter. You might've heard of them. Information on them is limited and vague, but as far as we in this room are concerned they're the ultimate authority in the United States - every clandestine and transmundane organisation of the US government ultimately answers to them. We are all here today at Keter's request. Occasionally something happens where normal methods of investigation and resolution are insufficient, and Keter requires a team of diverse and preternatural skills to find out what's going on. That's us. You've been conscripted into an Anomalous Investigation Unit, organised under Keter's own investigative bureau, Department 70." He paused to push his black glasses back up his nose. "Any questions so far?"
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Mathuen
Junior Member
马萨诸塞州, 中华人民共和国 (Trapped Yo)
Posts: 70
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Post by Mathuen on Feb 2, 2016 11:05:05 GMT
"Yes" Joshua said matter of factly.
"Was this all really necessary? You could have just picked us up and told us what we needed to know over some coffee on the way here. Did you really need to do the whole 'we are awesome badass secret government dudes' shtick? Oh, and the plain grey room. Why? You had to go out of your way to make the room look this way. Some mortar and paneled floors would have worked just fine."
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Post by Krall on Feb 2, 2016 11:22:46 GMT
"The matters we will discuss today are highly sensitive information, known to as few people as possible. It would be a massive violation of information security protocols to reveal it to each of you individually in transit. This facility has numerous layers of security, both paranormal and mundane, to prevent eavesdropping. Admittedly the paranormal security is less than adequate, but that stave should prevent remote viewing," he said gesturing to the still wet sigil he'd scrawled on the door, "and we chose this location because it is close by."
He paused, turning his head from one side to the other to take in the room.
"You're right about the decor, though."
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Post by lightninglynx89 on Feb 2, 2016 17:04:54 GMT
The door to the conference room swung open, and a figure stepped in - stooping to get through before pulling themselves up to their full height once inside. A severe-looking white man in an impeccably ironed black suit regarded the group coolly, his eyes hidden behind opaque sunglasses. Bald and plain, his only notable features were a bushy chevron moustache and a small chakra tattoo on his forehead. After a few seconds he nodded wordlessly and turned to close the door behind him, drawing a complex sigil made of long lines and half-circles on the door with a black marker before turning back to the group. He strode forward past them to the head of the table, speaking as he walked. "I apologise for the haphazard manner you've been brought here today," he growled, "But matters like this require quick, decisive reaction, and our agents aren't selected based on how good they are with people." He stopped, placing a small black briefcase on the table before him. "There's an organisation known by a wide variety of codenames: the Illuminated College, the Columbian Luminaries, the Do Re Mi, the Secret Masters, AA-01, the Shining Council, or - most commonly - Keter. You might've heard of them. Information on them is limited and vague, but as far as we in this room are concerned they're the ultimate authority in the United States - every clandestine and transmundane organisation of the US government ultimately answers to them. We are all here today at Keter's request. Occasionally something happens where normal methods of investigation and resolution are insufficient, and Keter requires a team of diverse and preternatural skills to find out what's going on. That's us. You've been conscripted into an Anomalous Investigation Unit, organised under Keter's own investigative bureau, Department 70." He paused to push his black glasses back up his nose. "Any questions so far?" Laurence stopped the rubbing of his index finger and thumb, the ambers and sparks stopping quickly after ceasing his action. His expression hardened at the tattooed man at the other side of the man. He leaned in on the table before asking, "I have a big question, where's Kasi? You types don't usually keep us separated, so I'm very curious where you're holding her?" Laurence said seriously. It was a strange turn in his personality, going from the smiling and care free young man, to dangerous looking.
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Post by Krall on Feb 2, 2016 18:28:18 GMT
For a moment the man seemed unnerved. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully before replying.
"I'm sorry, she'd currently detained by an Operations Group of the CIA's Transmundane Service arm. I understand they intend to hold her as 'insurance' against your disobedience, but knowing Langley they might also have ulterior motives. As I said this whole endeavour has been rather haphazard; apparently my recommendation that you not be separated never got upgraded to an order. Be assured that I'm looking to get her released ASAP."
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Post by lightninglynx89 on Feb 2, 2016 19:07:09 GMT
For a moment the man seemed unnerved. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully before replying. "I'm sorry, she'd currently detained by an Operations Group of the CIA's Transmundane Service arm. I understand they intend to hold her as 'insurance' against your disobedience, but knowing Langley they might also have ulterior motives. As I said this whole endeavour has been rather haphazard; apparently my recommendation that you not be separated never got upgraded to an order. Be assured that I'm looking to get her released ASAP." Laurence leaned back in his seat, his face switching back to a smile. "Good, I hope she's well where she is." Laurence turned his head down a bit, before his smile fell to a smirk. "I just hope not a single feather on her head is missing."
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Post by MinnesotaNationalist on Feb 2, 2016 22:11:31 GMT
"Excuse moi," The Nobxing said, leaning forward, "But, ehm, we refuse to aid, what, ehm, happens to us?" He had an idea of what would happen, but he just wanted to confirm his suspensions.
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Post by tardis218 on Feb 2, 2016 22:44:33 GMT
The door to the conference room swung open, and a figure stepped in - stooping to get through before pulling themselves up to their full height once inside. A severe-looking white man in an impeccably ironed black suit regarded the group coolly, his eyes hidden behind opaque sunglasses. Bald and plain, his only notable features were a bushy chevron moustache and a small chakra tattoo on his forehead. After a few seconds he nodded wordlessly and turned to close the door behind him, drawing a complex sigil made of long lines and half-circles on the door with a black marker before turning back to the group. He strode forward past them to the head of the table, speaking as he walked. "I apologise for the haphazard manner you've been brought here today," he growled, "But matters like this require quick, decisive reaction, and our agents aren't selected based on how good they are with people." He stopped, placing a small black briefcase on the table before him. "There's an organisation known by a wide variety of codenames: the Illuminated College, the Columbian Luminaries, the Do Re Mi, the Secret Masters, AA-01, the Shining Council, or - most commonly - Keter. You might've heard of them. Information on them is limited and vague, but as far as we in this room are concerned they're the ultimate authority in the United States - every clandestine and transmundane organisation of the US government ultimately answers to them. We are all here today at Keter's request. Occasionally something happens where normal methods of investigation and resolution are insufficient, and Keter requires a team of diverse and preternatural skills to find out what's going on. That's us. You've been conscripted into an Anomalous Investigation Unit, organised under Keter's own investigative bureau, Department 70." He paused to push his black glasses back up his nose. "Any questions so far?" "What do you mean what's going on? I was taken away from my Baltimore apartment, where I was due to a pretty small mission...also where are we going to be sent exacly?" Mortz said, calmly sitting down on his chair.
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Post by AnachronistRocketeer on Feb 3, 2016 3:25:40 GMT
Miriam was simply staring at the large mustachioed man, holding her head as she tried to avoid eye contact with the newest stranger. An... alien thing had shown up earlier, and she had becomes used to the various weird things in the room before suddenly a headache appeared out of nowhere. Her ears rang as a tall person who looked Armenian walked though the door, an almost too average person who had a white line almost imperceptibly thin but as bright and painful as the sun for that moment. It had dulled after a few minutes, so she tried to focus as best she could on what the man who was obviously their boss said.
"It's... okay. I guess Keter exists, which I can ask more about later, but." She interrupts herself to hold her ears until the ringing finally subsides, only a dull headache existing as she walks over to the farthest corner from the Armenian who felt so far from reality. "But, what's the Job?"
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Post by Krall on Feb 3, 2016 16:23:52 GMT
The man stood silent, listening to each question in turn but waiting for the room to calm down before he spoke again.
"Mister Favager, you have been attached to this unit because the US government believes that you can be trusted due to your patriotism, professionalism, cowardice, and/or greed. Considering your position as a freelance operative I would've hoped payment had been discussed and agreed, but it seems these things never quite go to plan. However if it becomes apparent that we cannot count on your aid then you will cease to be a useful asset in the eyes of the US government, and I believe you know what the US does to rogue agents. As for the job," he bent down to open the briefcase, pulling out a small stack of identical manila folders, "We've been organised to find out what happened to Miguel Navarro." He handed out the folders, sliding them down the table to each of the newly conscripted operatives.
"Miguel Fernando Navarro was a scientist, formerly at NASA, specializing in exogeology. He was dismissed in 1974 after being accused of theft of materials recovered from the Lunar surface by the Apollo 17 mission, and subsequent conflict with his colleagues. Shortly afterward he cut off contact with many of his family and friends and was rarely seen outside of a home he rented in Conroe, Texas. The last reliable sighting of him alive was in 1978 - since then it had been assumed that he had simply become a complete recluse, until three days ago." He flicked through his own copy of the folder and placed it down on the table open, showing a photo of a withered corpse lying on its back in what looked to be a messy, poorly lit study. Long, straight cuts appeared to have been made across the cadaver's torso, and various organs and pieces of offal lay arranged neatly by the corpse's side. "His bank was paying part of his rent automatically, so when debt collectors broke down his door to collect what hadn't been paid they assumed he was still alive. Food and other organic goods in his home indicate that they had been left to rot for almost a decade, but Navarro's remains show no sign of decomposition. The marks on his body indicate that it was mutilated with surgical precision and, in addition to his entrails being removed and placed nearby, all blood has been removed from his remains."
((Those of you that decide to look through the folders you have just been given will find the following:
-A profile of Miguel Fernando Navarro covering basic statistics such as date of birth, height, etc. along with a rough summary of his life and employment history.
-Numerous photos of his remains, which consist of a shriveled but well-preserved body with a few long, straight incisions made into the torso, and a somehow neat arrangement of organs on the ground beside it. No blood or bloodstains can be seen.
-A coroner's report on Miguel's body, stating that it is preserved through unknown means and stating that the cause of death may have been lack of oxygen in the brain.
-Photos of Navarro's house, inside and outside, from numerous angles. These show that the house was somewhat rundown, and the insides are dank, messy, and mouldy.
-Photos of a large (roughly the size of a baseball), black, almost spherical gemstone, apparently found near Miguel's body.
-A variety of reports from crime scene investigators on the events surrounding the discovery of his body, its examination, and a summary of items found elsewhere in the house (including a "large marble or gemstone, which caused a feeling of unease to come over anyone who handled it, and ESP-sensitive agents indicated may have paranormal properties").
-Finally, a short profile on each of your fellow AIU operatives (excluding the tall man in black who seems to be in charge) covering their names, some basic statistics and information on their life/history (where possible), and a summary of their powers.))
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Post by lightninglynx89 on Feb 3, 2016 20:05:34 GMT
Laurence had picked up a folder of his own and began to look through the contents within. He was curious to see what had happened, he'd dealt with his own brand of craziness but this seemed up his alley. He put the folder down before speaking, "Well besides probably being one of the grossest things I've ever seen. I'll take the job, plus it's 'local' so I won't be far away if you guys need to hunt me down." Laurence told the bald man. "Now then, what exactly is that black sphere near Miguel and do you have it with you, because if you do I want to see it." Laurence said smiling kindly.
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Post by tardis218 on Feb 3, 2016 21:27:40 GMT
Mortz picked up a photo of Miguel's body and of the round object to "check" through their past to get a better glimpse of the two objects. (Does he notice anything different or unusual?)
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Post by Krall on Feb 3, 2016 22:05:06 GMT
Mortz picked up a photo of Miguel's body and of the round object to "check" through their past to get a better glimpse of the two objects. (Does he notice anything different or unusual?) ((You should send things like this to me via PM. As far as I know your power doesn't work with photos (well, not with the thing depicted in the photo), so all you'll see is the recent history of the photo itself, which is not particularly enlightening.))
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Post by tardis218 on Feb 4, 2016 1:15:34 GMT
Mortz picked up a photo of Miguel's body and of the round object to "check" through their past to get a better glimpse of the two objects. (Does he notice anything different or unusual?) ((You should send things like this to me via PM. As far as I know your power doesn't work with photos (well, not with the thing depicted in the photo), so all you'll see is the recent history of the photo itself, which is not particularly enlightening.)) ((Oh, ok. Thanks.))
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ruth
New Member
pining for the fjords
Posts: 35
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Post by ruth on Feb 4, 2016 3:53:38 GMT
Marja stares at the photograph for a long while, some kind of wet, revolting horror spreading across her face as the gears in her mind turn. When she finally opens her mouth, though, it is not an expression of disgust or terror but one of outrage and shock that this person—clearly with some kind of connection to the magical realm—did not appear to have received the proper post-mortem rituals. "Thinking you must have completing the karsikko ritual and consigned the spirit with kallohonka to Tuonela, or else there could be the problem! This is bringing trouble upon your people, without cleansing the spirit and ensuring his safe passage to Tuonela, he could return and threaten to destroy. Already, it's magic to look like there's no decomposing. If you want to live, suggest you let me perform the last rites. It's most safe this way."
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Post by MinnesotaNationalist on Feb 4, 2016 4:17:21 GMT
The Nobxing shrugs, "Looks like an easy job. You know people who want him dead? Or is that the problem, too many want him dead?"
He grabs the reports of his fellow AUI coworkers and quickly looks through their information.
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