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| Blood Relatives; Who says you can't go home again? | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 31 2014, 11:21 AM (4,035 Views) | |
| ~The Boss~ | Nov 1 2016, 08:15 PM Post #101 |
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Native Son
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((Hope nobody minds a bit of movement)) It was calling her. Grace had read The Oddysey in high school, as she was sure most students did. The Iliad, The Oddysey, all those old Classical myths. Orpheus and Eurydice was a favorite of hers, but at this moment, it was Oddyseus who was in her head. TIed tot eh mast of his own ship, listening to the Sirens sing, calling out to him. The most most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, or would ever hear, evrn as he knew that answering call meant certain death. She heard the call. She heard it loud and clear. She knew she should resist. Fuck it. She lit the cigarette and breathed deeply. ................. Archer station was a familiar spot. The last time she'd been here had been a few years back, well before she got herself locked up. It made her think of Hannah. She hoped she'd gotten that care package she'd sent: a pair of ballet slippers and a note that read, "For when you get back on your feet." It was at Archer station where they would meet her contact, an old acquaintance of Jimmy's called Tiny Tim. Not exactly the friendliest guy around, but he had the resources to sneak goods and people past the authorities. Tiny Tim was not, as his name might imply, an especially large man. One might make certain assumptions, but such was not the case. But nor was it a literal descriptor, either. He was, in fact, exceedingly average in both height and build, nothing particularly remarkable about his physical appearance at all. In either direction. So why was he called Tiny Tim? "It's not a very nice name," Grace had explained. "Don't ask unless you really wanna know." The ship had docked. It would probably be a while before she could track him down, leaving them plenty of time to explore the station |
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| ~Alissa~ | Nov 7 2016, 08:05 PM Post #102 |
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The request for a sparring match had come as something of a surprise to Alissa. Of all the requests that Moria could have made, a practice bout had not really made the list. Then again they had only really faced off against each other once, and in that fight, Alissa had attempted to act more as a teacher than a real opponent. The match was not too long, though Alissa got the impression that Moria had difficulty finding an opponent that truly challenged her on the ship. After it was over however the pair went their separate ways, though Alissa did notice a shift in former test subjects interactions, more to the point the big warrior didn't tense the moment Alissa entered the room, which was in and of itself a marked improvement. At last, their team assembled, the ship outfitted, they were on their way, away from the still mysterious (at least to Alissa) Galapagos and on to meet with some contact belonging to Grace. they faced a very real problem, how to get past the sensor net unnoticed into Coalition territory. While it was far from their biggest problem it was at the moment their most immediate, and if they could not figure out a way into the sector Alissa could not think of another way to even get close to success. That was not to say Alissa was keen on their current timetable of "it will take as long as it takes." She stepped down the ramp of the ship into the hanger of Archer station looking around quietly a moment. She had elected to keep her hair that same shade of electric blue, in part because it was so far outside what her former masters would expect of her, but largely because she still kind of liked it. She had returned to her disguise she used while hiding Tamaki and Moria, looking far less like the secret super weapon, and more like someone who had either had too much or not enough structure at home as a child. "How long?" she asked Grace again, she was impatient to get moving, she needed to see things progressing, and now that they were underway her patience was almost nonexistent. |
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| ~The Boss~ | Nov 15 2016, 10:31 PM Post #103 |
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Native Son
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"Patience is a virtue, my dear," said Grace in an irritatingly sweet voice. She could sense Alissa's frustration without her having to say a word. So naturally, she couldn't help but poke the bear. She couldn't help it. It was like an impulse. 'Besides," she said. Guys like Tiny Tim don't exactly run on a schedule. Anyway, who's hungry? I'm buying. Or actually, Jimmy's buying, but who's keeping score anyway, right? C'mon, I know this really good pizza place around here. They make a great veggie calzone." ............ Tommy's was still here. That warmed her heart a bit. And though she had fond memories of the aforementioned veggie calzone, she ordered a chicken parmigiana, in Ronnie's honor. As they sat there having lunch, Grace could see Alissa growing progressively more annoyed. She explained that she'd done all she could for now. She'd put the word out that she was here to see Tiny Tim, and the only thing to do now was sit and wait. Showing up unannounced might send the wrong message, after all. It was a very delicate situation as is, Grace said, don't want to make it worse. It didn't seem to help Alissa's mood. "These are my people," Grace said. "I know how to deal with them. I know it sucks, but we want their help, we gotta play by their rules. Trust me, we don't want things to go sour before we even get our foot in the door." As luck would have it, no sooner had she spoken those words than a pair of very shifty looking gentlemen with suspicious-looking bulges in their jackets approached their table. "I guess that's the our welcoming party," she said with a smile." .............. They were led through the back of an electronics shop where Tiny Tim was waiting in his office, flanked by goons. As Grace had said, he was a fairly average looking guy, if in need of a shave, his stubble beard about the same length as his buzzed hair. He didn't have Jimmy's fashion sense, either, dressed in a plain gray suit with no tie. "Timmy," Grace said. "Nice to see you." "Wish I could say the same," he replied, his gruff voice carrying an accent that suggested roots in working class London. "Not exactly a good time to be dropping in. Still, I did get your message. Be rude of me not to at least hear you out. Least I can do for an old friend." The sarcasm there was unmistakable. Clearly, these two weren't exactly friends. Tim looked.over the group, his eyes lingering on Jenosa a bit longer than might be considered polite. Eventually his gaze came to Alissa. "You must be Ms. Achilles," he said. "My prospective client. What can I do for you, love?" |
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| +CEMP+ | Dec 1 2016, 10:05 PM Post #104 |
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Clockwork Master
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As soon as Alissa accepted to spar, Moria felt a sudden thrill of excitement ran through her. She had been eagerly waiting to have a duel with the woman for the longest time – for oh so long, since she had woken up from death. Yet so many things had bared her from it, from her rehabilitation, then to her...fear of her. She had, after all, witnessed Alissa's true strength from a distance, and then subsequently bore the brunt of the woman's rage. A part of her had not dare ask Alissa in fear that she would suddenly explode and severely harm Moria in a single go. Now, standing up and activating the metallic blades that could grow from her armor, she felt that was no longer the case. The dread of just being bulldozed over was gone, and beyond all reason, she could not help but feel a sense of trust with the woman now. How, she could not fully understand, but...it mattered little to compared to finally having a proper spar, something she had wanted to do again since their first encounter. It had been, after all, and oddly enough, the one bright spot in their first encounter. The visceral joy of letting loose her physical prowess through absolute melee had resonated with her, especially through the use of a blade as a weapon. There was just something about it that felt more than just a tool in her hands, and once again, as the two of them clashed, she could see how Alissa also treated it as such. Of course, Moria felt she had much to learn in terms of finess, given how her opponent attacked and counter attacked her with such grace. It only made her admire Alissa's prowess even more, and strive to work towards it as well. By the end of the duel, her arms were shaking and brow full of sweat, but there was a look of absolute joy and satisfaction on her face. As she walked alongside Alissa to their departing ship, Moria felt much more at ease in her presence. -------------------- Not that she didn't feel an entirely different sense of hard nervousness and anxiety welling within her. For although she was past her fears with Alissa, it was the success of mission itself that hung in her heard. It was, after all, her first actual mission. Her first true assignment. Her entire military training had been to prepare her for these very scenarios, and now that she was in one, it felt nerve wracking. Partially because she was relying on others to help her, rather than being sent into a very straightforward scenario likes the one she had practiced; but mainly because she had no idea what to expect. In many ways, Moria felt that the combat scenarios she had partaken in had been poor representations of the real world. She knew that well enough given her first, true combat experience, and the fact that, in many ways, nothing was ever truly straightforward as it seemed. Case in point, their current requirement of combat vestments. Or rather, the lack of thereof. “Why...aren't walking in with our combat armor?” Moria asked as they walked out into the space station. “Diplomacy mainly,” Jenosa said, “we're here to negotiate for a way into the NGC, and bringing weapons, or even looking like we're geared for a fight, will send the wrong message to the people we're talking to. Plus this is kind of a public zone as well.” Moria nodded, understanding to some degree what she meant. Even so, she still felt herself uneasy without it. Which wasn't to say it was all bad, as she found herself devouring the all-dressed pizza they ordered, savoring the new taste, and smirk and laugh in idle conversation as they waited. For Moria was not in a rush like Alissa seemed to be. When they did finally meet the man Grace had talked about, she noticed how he had stared at her sister; and her sister glared back briefly; and as Timmy turned his attention to Alissa, Jenosa muttered to Grace, "Please tell he's just looking at me because he fancies red heads." Edited by CEMP, Dec 2 2016, 11:53 AM.
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~Alissa~ | Dec 2 2016, 02:32 PM Post #105 |
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The match had been good; it had served as a sort of catharsis, bookending this tension that had existed between Moria and herself since they cleared out project vertigo. Alissa noticed a shift in the former subject’s demeanor almost immediately and was honestly glad for it. The match had also served as a much needed pressure valve before departing. The list of opponents who could push Alissa were preciously short, and she hadn’t really had a workout that got her pulse up since the fight with the operative outside the safe house. While in a sparring match punches were pulled and no one was in any real danger it was still a good workout, and much needed as a trust-building exercise before they got underway. -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ Some people found it unnerving, the ease with which Alissa could shift into a personality, depending on a disguise, or a need. Whether she had crafted the persona herself or she was following the structure of someone she was impersonating it was almost chilling how easy it was for her to discard her own personality when she had too. For the purposes of this outing she was simply doing her best not to act like an Achillies operative, everything about her appearance and attitude were crafted for this. While she was on the ship Alissa exhibited what she was coming to know as her own personality, flawed as it might be it was her at the core. However from the moment she had stepped off the ship, through their lunch, being suddenly gathered for their meeting and at last being presented with “Tiny Tim” Alissa had been affecting an attitude that matched her appearance, everything from word choice and tone, to an affected accent that seemed as natural as anything, right down to body language that dripped with the sort of open disdain that so many seemed to use as a shield in the world. The moment Tim addressed her however that melted away. Her posture changed, standing up a bit straighter as her eyes (colored with blue contacts) fixed on the stranger as if reading him. Her expression shifted to a neutral mask as she regarded the criminal who’s contacts she needed. While he was not their only path into coalition territory he was probably their best idea, and a gatekeeper. Smuggling into the NGC was risky business, if you moved too much or too dangerous a contraband into the territories it was all too likely that they would send someone just like Alissa to pay a visit with permanent results, the NGC was not known for its subtlety, or second chances. “We require entrance into coalition territory through the sensor net, passage clearance to Athens and protected systems, suitable identities that will pass coalition screening” came her flat dispassionate tone, Jenosa would know this mask, it was the same persona that Alissa had used when they first met, what Alissa had used to consider her true self. “A security report on Olympus technologies would be useful however I understand that is likely outside your ability to provide. A contact on the other side could be useful, if you are uncomfortable providing that too me however I would understand.” |
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| ~The Boss~ | Dec 15 2016, 11:58 PM Post #106 |
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Native Son
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"Assume the worst," Grace said to Jenosa under her breath, though not without her trademark wry humor. She watched Alissa with a little smirk of amusement. There was something familiar in the way that she seamlessly shifted into a completely different persona. Grace had done plenty of this type of shape-shifting throughout her life, even before she was doing it professionally. They were more alike than either of them would have liked to admit Ostensibly, this was the real Alissa Achilles, and yet, Grace couldn't help but think that on some level, even that was an act. The cold, robotic manner that she exhibited felt as though it had been learned. Deliberately, though perhaps not willingly, given her history. But somewhere deep down inside, maybe locked away in some dark corner of her mind and neglected for God knows how long, there was the actual person... or at least the one she would have become if she hadn't been molded into what she was today. Maybe Grace was wrong, but the idea had already wormed her way into her mind. "Is that all?" Tiny Tim said, the sarcasm flowing like a river. "Sure you don't want the cure for cancer? Fountain of Youth? A unicorn that pisses liquid gold and shits rainbows?" Grace rolled her eyes and audibly groaned. "C'mon, Tim," she said. Though it wasn't like she hadn't expected something like this. Tiny Tim was difficult to take on the best of days. Even if he liked you. Whereas Jimmy was smooth and charming, though not nearly as smooth and charming as he thought he was - even Grace grew weary of his act, and she let him see her naked - Tim was prickly and abrasive. "Of course. My apologies." She knew he didn't mean that, and she was sure her compatriots knew it as well. "To tell you the truth," the Englishman continued, this time directly addressing Alissa, "there isn't much that I can't obtain. My people move all manner of things in and out of Coalition space. Goods, cash, even people. Sometimes they don't come back, for whatever reason, but that's the price of doing business, isn't it? Don't get very far if you ain't willing to take a few risks. You want contacts? I've got 'em. Can't move much of anything through there without knowing the right people. Far as security reports, I've no doubt those can be obtained as well. Won't be easy, and will require patience, but it can be done. Don't assume not a one of the fine folks at Olympus can't be bought for the right price. "So yes, everything you ask is possible... theoretically." The others could probably hear Grace's brow furrowing. She didn't like where this was going, and she doubted they did either. |
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| +CEMP+ | Dec 20 2016, 04:12 PM Post #107 |
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Clockwork Master
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"Oh lovely," Jenosa said under her breath, more to herself than to Grace. She was really not keen on going through another clone ordeal, or something horrendously related to that matter. It had already been too much for her the first time - and frankly, anymore of and she might just splatter the walls with someone else blood. Although in this case, she got the feeling she was going to be offered a deal with the Devil she was going to have difficulty refusing. One that she was getting impatient with to hear. Stuffing here hands into her pockets, she said, "Quit beating around the push. We know you have resources we need, so what do you want return?" The suspense was killing her. |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~Alissa~ | Dec 21 2016, 01:52 PM Post #108 |
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Alissa studied the man quietly, she could read him well enough, and everything about him was a show. The attitude, the confidence, the caustic way of presenting things, all of it was meant to keep them off balance, to establish that this man was in control of the situation. Alissa wasn’t particularly impressed, though it was difficult to tell one way or another, whatever reaction the man was hoping to get from the former coalition operative. “Coalition intelligence rates smugglers with thresholds, to efficiently allocate resources.” she said quietly taking a seat “eventually they get to even the smaller operations, once the threshold is passed an operative is dispatched to address the problem, with extreme prejudice” Alissa reached into her jacket and withdrew a small tablet which she extended slowly toward Tim, her movements were deliberate, intended to make his security as relaxed as possible, and therefore help make sure she and her friends were not riddled with holes. The tablet contained Tim’s file, which included his real name, known associates, a list of infractions on coalition law that might be more complete than he would like to see, and at the top a counter indicating how close he was to being marked red. The file had been part of the data dump that Anna had sent before being isolated, she’d known the first major challenge for Alissa would be entering Coalition space and had included a good number of contacts, and resources. Some of those files had included some useful pressure points. “Our timetable does not allow us room for waiting, if you do not already have the reports we can do without. Identities and passage documentation will suffice” she said coolly “in return while I’m in there system I can reset that counter to zero” |
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| ~The Boss~ | Jan 8 2017, 10:27 PM Post #109 |
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Native Son
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Tim took the tablet and studied it intently, carefully scrolling through the screen, his expression unreadable. Eventually though, he cracked a grin. "Right, this one wasn't me," he said. "I know who it was, if you're curious." More scrolling. "Okay, this one was me." His voice welled up with pride at that one. His grinned widened, and he showed the screen to the henchman standing next to him. "You remember Lucy? Oh, she was delightful." His man chuckled, as did a few of the others gathered in the office. Clearly, they remembered Lucy as well. "Just yellow, I see," Tim said, tossing the tablet down on his desk. "That's disappointing. Thought for sure I'd be orange by now." "What a shame," Grace said. "Now get to the part where you tell us how you're gonna help my friends." "Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that my dear." "Wait, what? No, uh-uh. Don't you dare - don't touch me!" One of Tim's goons had put a hand on her shoulder to stop her as she'd started towards the desk, but she angrily brushed him off. "Don't you dare tell me that we came all this way only for you to say you ain't gonna do nothin!" "Well, I wish I could," Tim replied unconvincingly, "but the fact of the matter is that you're just far to hot right now. What, you think I didn't hear about that little adventure back in Leonis? Your boyfriend and your new gal pals pissing off every spook from here to Earth and back again? Word gets around, love. Feds and cops, I can deal with. But spies? That's trouble I don't need. "On the other hand," he continued, getting up from his seat, "if you need to slip past the border guards, that means someone's looking for you. And that means someone's willing to pay for you." His men, all five of them, drew their weapons on the women. He looked directly at Alissa, his expression triumphant. "I bet I turn you over to the right people, I get that counter reset to green pretty fucking quick." Grace could almost feel the others getting ready to spring into action. She shot them a sidelong glance, her face silently telling them that now was not the time, no matter how bad things looked. Tim was staring right at her from behind his desk. She locked eyes with him, and smiled. "So... you wanna know why they call him Tiny Tim?" "Shut up," he said, crossing around his desk and coming right up to her,. "An old girlfriend of his came up with it..." "You shut up!" "What was it she said? 'It was like he was poking at me with his thumb-'" Tim backhanded her right across the face. Once she recovered from the initial shock - though she'd fully expected it - she stiffened up and stared him down, her eyes even more defiant than ever. "Get 'em out of here," Tim snarled. "And someone tape this whore's mouth shut!" |
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| ~The Silver Fox~ | Jan 12 2017, 10:47 PM Post #110 |
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Just your friendly neighborhood Section 2 agent!
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(OOC: A bit late and a bit short, but it should get me caught up, at least.) The decision...had not been an easy one to make. Altruism was never one of Chel's strong suits, and even Raven had practical limits to his. Oh, his offer had her interest, to be sure, but it entailed an awful lot of sticking her own neck out for people she didn't know. He seemed to trust them at least - somewhat surprisingly, in Chel's mind, considering their abortive past attempt to recruit or recover him, whichever word was more appropriate. In the end, it had boiled down to three things. The first was Moria. Chel had to admit, she had grown fond of the girl. Moria had been coming to visit her regularly, and without any prompting. Even if she did get confused frequently as to which Chel she was talking to. The second...it had only been a single word that had cued her into it, but the only meaning was unmistakable. Beggie, upon meeting her, had said he knew about "all four of you," when only three of her had been present with Raven. That could only mean one thing. He had met Exsurgent. Not that she meant any ill will towards her prodigal clone, but considering her disposition the last time Chel had met her, it couldn't mean anything good. Third, well, it had been a while since she'd actually been able to put her cat burglary skills to use. And certainly, she'd never complain about a chance to perform some deniable corporate sabotage on a competitor. Even if they weren't really a competitor, more like... I really need to stop overthinking my metaphors. ----------------- Tiny Tim was not someone Chel had any intention of meeting in person. Mostly because he'd probably try to shoot her the moment he saw her. And vice-versa. Not that it'd be easy to kill her in the Fury, but it was the principle of it. And so it was that she was watching Saber and Rose eat pizza rather than joining the meeting. A little boring, but, well, whatever Tim didn't know he'd be transporting wouldn't hurt him. Much. A hand fell on her shoulder, and she froze. She knew instantly the press of a palm implant...especially that of her own phase disrupters. "Been a while," Exsurgent said as she walked around the table. She'd changed her outfit since the last time Chel had seen her, especially the cloth covering her eyes, which was now a proper hood to her outfit, making her almost look like a modern-age warlock. Especially with the faint golden glow from beneath it, and the smoky ichor leaking down and evaporating before it could make it all the way down her cheeks. "Why don't we do a bit of catching up while we're waiting for your friends?" |
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Once, there was a maiden... ...whose tears of grief nearly drowned the world. So she tore out her heart, and made war against it. In victory, she sealed it in a locket, and trapped in a casting of bronze. "Such is the price of unguarded emotion," she said. | |
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