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  • The Foundation (IC)

    (This is where we're starting things off. Everyone meets with a current FEND agent who recruits them into the foundation. Of course, those who refuse the invitation tend to be marked as rogue supernaturals themselves. Anyone can post their own setup to their invitation, or just ask me to start it off.)
    Last edited by Ree; 11-06-2011, 11:10 AM. Reason: Added link to original thread where game was introduced
    » Horse Words «·» Roleplaying Stuff «

  • #2
    Fred had almost gotten himself killed..again. He had climbed a tree to get good photographs of a cheating spouse, and had been struck by one of his more powerful visions. He had fell, it was good he had only manged to get about halfway up. Now, he waited for the vision to come true.

    He had arrived home, packed, called the client to tell them the photos were in the mail and they did not owe him anything. Then, he waited by the entrance where he knew his visitor would arrive.

    Right on time the knock came on the door. He opened it, travel bags already ready. Before the FEND agents could even introduce themselves. "I'm ready. You can tell Cyan and Jasmine that the tranquilizers will not be needed. I am not really a fighter, and I've been expecting you. As you can see.." he holds up the travel bags "I am coming peacefully."

    The agents, as trained as they are, could not help but be left with their mouths open. Fred really didn't know as much as he was letting on, only that they had come to make him part of some organization. They were paying well, and to be honest the private eye business was getting to him. He didn't know how many more cheating spouses he could take.
    Last edited by Mytical; 11-06-2011, 11:32 AM.
    Engaged to the amazing Marmalady. She is my Silver Dragon, shining as bright as the sun. I her Black Dragon (though good honestly), dark as night..fierce and strong.

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    • #3
      Sarah could never remember a time when she hadn't lived on the streets, on the run from god only knew what. Small and skinny for her age, she owned precious little but the clothes on her back.

      She remembered the day the adults came looking for her...alone one moment, and suddenly 2 men in fancy suits were in her hideout.

      "dammit..." she thought, "more adults..."

      she placed the sweetest most innocent smile on her face and looked at both men. "why hello gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit."
      It is by snark alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of the coffee bean that thoughts acquire 'tude, the lips acquire mouthiness, the glares become a warning.

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      • #4
        Mytical
        One of the agents recovers more quickly and gives a slightly embarrassed cough before nudging his partner into composing himself, then returns his attention to Fred.

        "That's good to know, Mr. Masters. Though we hope you don't take all this as being forced. We always make an offer first, and I can assure you it's worth it."

        The other agent speaks in a low voice to his parter. "Hey, nobody told us this guy was psychic."

        Which gets him another quick jab at his side and a low "Shut up, Winchester."

        Sarlon
        One of the men nods to her. "Hello, Sarah. We're here because we've heard you can do things most people can't, and see things most people don't. What you have is a one in a million talent, and we could use your help. How would you like to work for us?"
        » Horse Words «·» Roleplaying Stuff «

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        • #5
          "Please call me Fred. I am well aware of the offer you are about to make me, and it is more then generous. Which is why I prepared my bags in advance. In a way, I think I should be thanking you. One more run away, or cheating spouse case and I'd probably scream. I want a real challenge, and from what I have seen..the group you work for can provide it. Shall we go then?" Fred was nowhere near as calm as he sounded, but he was an experienced private investigator. He knew how to at least SEEM calm. Truth was, he was more then half guessing what was waiting for him.
          Engaged to the amazing Marmalady. She is my Silver Dragon, shining as bright as the sun. I her Black Dragon (though good honestly), dark as night..fierce and strong.

          Comment


          • #6
            Mytical
            The first one nods. "Alright, Fred. For a number of reasons, we don't generally give out our names. At least not outside of our closer associates. But you can call me Browning."

            And the other speaks up. "And I'm Winchester. We've got a car waiting."

            They lead him to a car waiting at the end of his drive, which soon takes them to a small local airport not far from his home. They then board a small plane, with Winchester flying, and eventually land in what signs indicate to be Kansas City. But rather than exiting the terminal, Browning and Winchester lead Fred down an unmarked stairwell behind a few "no unauthorized personnel" signs.

            Winchester stops at a door at the bottom of the stairs. "All right, this is where we get to the fun part."

            He pulls out a keycard and unlocks the door, leading them through to what seems to be a small subway station. A single one-car train awaits them, apparently a maglev of some type.

            As they board, Browning gives him a warning. "Hang on tight. This one's a bit of a ride."

            The train takes off, accelerating rapidly and giving the impression it's easily reaching over 100 MPH. Needless to say, they very quickly reach the next station.

            Browning turns to Fred as they disembark. "Welcome to FEND division 7. Try not to be too disappointed by the decor, the higher-ups are a very practical bunch."

            And he has a point. It looks like the sublevels of any office building, and the two inform him that they were in fact in the basement levels of a building downtown.
            Last edited by KabeRinnaul; 11-06-2011, 07:38 PM.
            » Horse Words «·» Roleplaying Stuff «

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            • #7
              "You're social workers aren't you...listen...as I told the last bunch I have parents they just ain't here at the moment."

              sarah eyes them warily.
              It is by snark alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of the coffee bean that thoughts acquire 'tude, the lips acquire mouthiness, the glares become a warning.

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              • #8
                Siobhan was sitting in the library at MIT. A few years ago studying languages here had seemed like such an awesome idea. Now all she wanted to do was quit. She could speak the languages she was studying fluently but was being forced to doing the most boring busy work. College was supposed to challenge her and she had never been more bored.
                She looked at time on her phone and realized it was much later then she thought. Which is why it surprised her when she heard a distant door open... Then close.
                As she was gathering her stuff two people approached her table. Her first thought was that they looked very MIB. Then her empathy kicked in.
                They were feeling very cautious... And hopeful... On guard... Ready for a chase... Or to attack... Assessing her.
                Siobhan decided not to make it easy on them and asked 'An féidir liom cabhru leat?' ('May I help you?' in Gaelic)
                Her accent was definitely Irish but that of someone that's lived in America for more then a few years.
                Driver Picks the Music, Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole.
                Supernatural 9-13-05 to forever

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                • #9
                  Sarlon
                  The other one speaks now. "It... would be a pretty big stretch to call us that."

                  The first shrugs. "Black would."

                  The second turns to him. "Well, yeah, but Black's full of-"

                  He's interrupted by a cough from the first.

                  And the second turns back to her. "Sorry. But no, we're not here to put you in a home or anything. We're honestly offering you a place with us. We track down and handle things that are out of the ordinary. From what we've been told, the research department thinks you'll be a big asset."

                  Dragon Wings
                  It's a man and a woman in her case. The woman blinks at that and looks to her partner.

                  He steps forward and replies to her in the same language, just as fluently (though I'm not that great with languages so just pretend it's in gaelic) {Yes, you can.} And switches to English. "Though for the sake of my partner, would you mind having this conversation in English?"
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                  • #10
                    "Could I leave anytime I wanted? like say things get to hinky? And don't talk to me like a child! I'm nearly 16!"
                    It is by snark alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of the coffee bean that thoughts acquire 'tude, the lips acquire mouthiness, the glares become a warning.

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Siobhan glances at the woman then responds 'I suppose. Are you here to 'take me away'?'
                      Driver Picks the Music, Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole.
                      Supernatural 9-13-05 to forever

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                      • #12
                        St. Louis | A week ago

                        Supervisory Special Agent Hal Lindy regarded the scene at large, from the scattered furniture in the living area, to the kitchen, where the... deed had been done. He looked back up at Joseph "Joey" Monfries. "All right. We think we've nailed it down, Monfries. Let's see if you can figure it out." He folded his arms. "Let's hear your famous intuition and insight on the case."

                        Joey took a deep breath. It was always a trick, wasn't it, phrasing his "insights" to only go off the given evidence, and not bring to light his "gifts." It wasn't always easy, especially given some of the things he saw. He took a slow circuit of the living area, making a show of examining much of the mess, then crouching by one of the evidence markers. "What was right here?" he asked over his shoulder.

                        Lindy turned to the local detective, who handed over a clear envelope containing a shell casing. Nine-millimeter. Joey took this and looked at it, then shook it out of the plastic and held it in one latex-gloved hand. He squeezed this, turning away as if in thought, and when neither of them could see him, he carefully used the edge of the shell to slice the latex on his glove so it could touch the skin of his finger.

                        He managed to avoid twitching as information suddenly pounded into his brain. Once he was finished, he held the casing up, as if examining it in the light, then tucked it back in the plastic envelope. He turned to Lindy and handed it back. "Okay. Here's what I think happened..."

                        He glanced to the kitchen area, blanching as he looked at the stains. "The victim either knew the unsub* or expected them to come here. No sign of B&E to indicate otherwise. The lack of defensive wounds means the victim was caught by surprise and/or incapacitated." Joey nodded at the casing. "I think the unsub shot the victim to subdue her, so he could take his time with..." He glanced briefly at the kitchen, then turned away, looking ill. "...the rest."

                        "Wouldn't neighbors have heard the gunshot?" the local detective asked.

                        Joey shook his head and pointed out the window. They looked, and saw the half-finished deck next door. "Neighbors are having that deck built, and the construction workers were using nail-guns. The unsub timed his shot to coincide with their work, so it just blended in with the rest of the noise."

                        And so it went. Over the next several minutes, Joey detailed as much information as he dared on the unsub. That the unsub worked for Charter, ostensibly as a cable installer, and there was a lot of upgrade work being done in the neighborhood, so no one thought the van was out of place, not even for the amount of time he'd been there. Joey had claimed to deduce this from the Charter Communications mail on the table in the front hall, and had pointed out the Charter van they'd passed coming in to the scene. The knives and instruments used to cut and bludgeon the victim had been taken from the kitchen, rather than being brought by the unsub.

                        The savagery from the attack pointed to the unsub being an angry person, and that all of the victims-- in a variety of different neighborhoods, and never more than one in each-- had been fairly well-off. The destruction to the rest of the house had been in response to a deep-seated envy of their success and comfort. The unsub was from a poor, working-class background, someone who couldn't afford luxuries and lived paycheck-to-paycheck, and even that was a struggle.

                        "What was the trigger?" Lindy asked. Aware the local detective might not know the terminology, he added, "Why this victim?"

                        Joey shrugged. "I can't determine that from the evidence here. But his rage was focused on the victim and her belongings," he gestured around. "But..." he pointed at one chair, whereupon were stacked the pictures of the victim and her family. "He didn't have anything against her children. All the pictures with children in them were left alone, but if it had her or the husband, it was left alone. I don't have an explanation for that."

                        He spread his hands. "Anything else, Hal?" he asked his boss.

                        Lindy shrugged. "No. You pretty much nailed everything. You sure you didn't see any reports we sent back to Valdez at the Bureau?"

                        Joey shook his head. "Nothing. I try to stay fresh until I'm on the scene."

                        "How'd you work all that out?" the local detective demanded. "I mean, you hardly looked at the victim--"

                        "Agent Monfries doesn't deal well with looking at blood," Lindy interrupted. "As for the rest... well, Joey's like our very own Sherlock Holmes. He derives some pretty accurate insights from the briefest of glances. Even I wonder how he does it sometimes."

                        Joey gave a wan smile. "It's a gift," he said. He pulled off his gloves and turned to Lindy. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm on the verge of having dry heaves just from being by that," he nodded at the kitchen scene. "I'm going to go be sick..."

                        Arlington, Va. | Now

                        Joey finished typing up his report and sent it off to be filed, closing his laptop. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at his hands again. There was nothing strange-looking about them. Nothing to indicate that he got these 'flashes of insight' when he touched something.

                        And that wasn't taking into account the things he thought he saw elsewhere, when he wasn't getting those flashes. He always chalked them up to lack of sleep, even when he was well-rested. It was just his imagination running away with him. But he really hoped it wasn't a case of the 'flashes' doing other, bad, things to his mind.

                        * FBI jargon, "unknown subject"
                        PWNADE(TM) - Serve up a glass today! | PWNZER - An act of pwnage so awesome, it's like the victim got hit by a tank.

                        There are only Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse because I choose to walk!

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                        • #13
                          Sarlon
                          "Sorry. Your file indicated you were a bit younger. But yes, while you can leave active duty with us, we will need to keep track of you once you do. It's just a precaution we take."

                          Dragon Wings
                          The woman speaks now, as both agents take seats across from her. "Not quite. This is more of an offer. We try to find people with extraordinary abilities, such as seeing things other people can't, and recruit them into our organization. You seem to fall into that category. And then the job is to, well... We're here to protect people from the things that go bump in the night."

                          Jay 2K
                          Jay hears someone entering the offices. Odd, since he's supposed to be the only one here this late. But if someone's in here, security had to let them in. Soon a woman in professional attire approaches his desk and pulls a chair up to sit across from him. "Good evening, Mr. Monfries. I've heard you are very good at what you do, and have a special case to present to you."
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                          • #14
                            Arlington, VA

                            Joey glanced up as he heard someone moving around, eyes narrowing. He glanced at the clock, then subtly moved his hand to his drawer, sliding his pistol into his lap.

                            When the woman approaches, he relaxes slightly, but only just, keeping the pistol ready, though out of sight. "This is slightly outside of protocol," Joey pointed out. "Most cases aren't handed directly to agents, they're sent up to our unit chief from local PDs."

                            He regarded her levelly. Something about her just struck him as wrong, and he couldn't place a reason on it. His fingers twitched. If she handed him a folder or something pertaining to this 'special case,' he might find out why he was having that feeling.

                            "But..." Joey glanced around, then gave a shrug. "All right. What is this 'special case?'"
                            PWNADE(TM) - Serve up a glass today! | PWNZER - An act of pwnage so awesome, it's like the victim got hit by a tank.

                            There are only Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse because I choose to walk!

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                            • #15
                              'You're here to protect me? From the things that go bump in the night?' Siobhan said skeptically.
                              'I've taken care of myself for 20+ years now. What more can you do for me that I haven't already done?'
                              Driver Picks the Music, Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole.
                              Supernatural 9-13-05 to forever

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