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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Lord Wraith
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Thor
>Respin the IC to have the current 'Thor' be an imposter (Loki or Ragnarok?), Imposter Thor kills Steve, with Fury still missing and Steve dead, Waller is able to appoint Maria as the new head of SHIELD.
>The real Thor meanwhile was banished from Asgard, (time discrepancy between Asgard and Midgard? Could explain why Asgardians age seemingly slower?)
>Sent to Earth in the form of an infant, raised with vague memories of Asgard and a 'knowing' of who he was in the vaguest, abstract of the notion.
>Grew up with his adoptive parents, Jonathan and Martha Kent in Smallville, Kansas.
>Primary plot would tie into the murder of Steve Rogers and tracking down 'Thor'
>Inciting event could be Sif seeking out her love on Earth

T H O R
T H O R

“Point me in the direction of whomever's ass I have to kick.”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Thor Odinson / Clark Joseph Kent D.V.M.
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Asgardian / Caucasian | Veterinarian | Unaffiliated
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Smallville | Kansas | United States of America

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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Reusing some ideas of my past takes on Thor, combining them with existing ideas and plots in the Sensation & Wonder thread, I've come up something I think is pretty fresh and exciting. As we've already had a Thor appear in the IC, I'm choosing to acknowledge that and instead extrapolate the events in a different direction, with the alleged 'Thor' attacking Director Steven Rogers. However, that 'Thor' is none other than a plot to put distract Asgard with a war against Midgard.

The real Thor, however, was actually banished from Asgard and sent to Earth in the form of an infant to learn humility and meekness. Raised on a small farm outside of Smallville, Kansas, Thor was given the adoptive identity of Clark Kent. While aware, in the vaguest abstract of the word, of his true identity, Thor/Clark, lived a fairly normal and uneventful life.

That at least was until a raven haired warrior appeared in a blinding burst of rainbow light at the Kent farm...

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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With Nightwing, I have the joy and fun of playing an established character, and while I was doing more of an origin lean with Green Lantern, the character never really clicked with me. Thor was a character that I thoroughly enjoyed playing in past games and while I was brainstorming how to really shake up the IC, the idea of having an abandoned character become an antagonistic foe that happened to allow me to portray Thor once again was too good of an idea to pass on. Acknowledging my previous inspirations from Superman and playing on the remnants of the Big Blue's lore that doesn't interfere with John Table's Calvin Ellis, I've put together a pretty 'ultimatized' version of Thor that I think will be fun to explore in the IC.

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H A W K M A N
H A W K M A N

“Point me in the direction of whomever's ass I have to kick.”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Katar Hol / Dr. Carter Hall Ph. D.
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Thanagarian / Caucasian | Archeologist/Linguist | Unaffiliated
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Midway City | Michigan | United States of America

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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Katar and Shayera Hol were a pair of alien law enforcement known on their homeworld of Thangar as 'Wingmen'. Thangar was the Capital of the Thanagarian Empire, the successor to the Polaran Empire which had previously ruled the Polaris System. In the spirit of their predecessors, the Thanagarians had become an expansionist race that plundered other worlds and stripped them of their resources and treasures to fund their ever-expanding fleet. Numerous members of their conquered worlds were taken as slaves and used to further the goals of the Thanagarians.

As Wingmen, Katar and Shayera were responsible for ensuring the general populace's obedience to the Empire and among their duties was prisoner transportation. It was this duty they were carrying out when the pair's patrol craft was pulled through a wormhole before crashlanding on Earth nearly five thousand years ago. Surviving the crash, Katar and Shayera found themselves on an unfamiliar world in a foreign system. Seeking out a settlement, the pair found their way to Memphis.

The Egyptians were astonished by the pair of Thanagarians and immediately became enamoured with their visitors due to the resemblance of their armour to the god, Horus. Welcomed with open arms, the pair were worshipped as gods by the people who believed that Horus had blessed them with his children. However, one of the high priests, Hath-Set, grew envious of the attention and worship the pair received. Craving it all for himself, Hath-Set began to covet Shayera as well, stalking the woman until he began to obsess over her.

However, when the high priest finally confessed his feelings to Shayera, she spurned his affections choosing to remain loyal to Katar. In vengeance, Hath-Set planned to murder the two aliens exposing them as flesh and blood instead of the gods the people believed them to be. Poisoning their drinks in order to weaken the pair of Thanagarians, Hath-Set had their unconscious bodies moved to his sacred chamber where he planned to carry out their murder as a sacrifice to his own god. Using a knife made from the heart of a meteor, the blade cursed Katar and Shayera to forever be reincarnated, only to fall in love all over again. Then, at the point when their love for each other was greatest, the hourglass would turn, and they would both die before their time.

Since that first death, Katar and Shayera have lived out hundreds of lives, each different from the last and plagued with the memories of those that came before. Each life followed the same template, the pair would grow up, start their lives and eventually find the other, fall in love and then watch the other die. Sometimes one would die years before the other, other times they would die together, but no matter the lifetime the pair were forced to endure one tragic end after another.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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This latest reincarnation of Katar Hol has been slowly piecing together his past lives, using his knowledge of history to run the Midway City Museum of Ancient History. Unlike previous iterations, he has yet to meet his Shayera and instead has been working as an archeologist to recover artifacts from around the world while leading a double life as a vigilante. Cursed with an insatiable need for justice, Katar has found himself unable to ignore the troubles of the world and has single-handedly taken it upon himself to clean up Midway City. Recovering his Nth Metal armour, he's been dubbed both a 'Guardian Angel' and the 'Hawkman' by the local media despite his heavy-handed methods.

Seeking a way to end the curse put on him by Hath-Set, Carter's passion for archeology comes searching for the same knife that had cursed himself and Shayera. Unfortunately, he has yet to discover the blade leading him to continue his search whenever he has time away from the museum.

On an author level, I believe Hawkman could be an interesting character for me to portray. Given his history and greater scope, he has a lot in common with Thor while having less popular mythos than the likes of Batman. His power levels and abilities allow him to travel the globe and interact with other players and characters for both collaborations or large-scale events.

Hawkman's rougher personality will likely be a challenge for me to portray but at the same time, I think it could be fun playing a character who is rougher around the edges and not afraid to speak his mind. For the time being, I'm going to be keeping Carter strictly Earthbound and doing small arcs to get my feet wet before looking into a grander scope and using Thanagar and the other mythology attached there. It is my intention to also have Hath-Set and Vandal Savage be one and the same ala DC's Legends of Tomorrow.

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Z A U R I E L
Z A U R I E L

“Let no weapon formed against me prosper.”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Zauriel / Daniel Hall
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Guardian Angel | Public Defender | Unaffiliated
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Los Angeles | California | United States of America

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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In the beginning, the Presence, the One Above All created the Heavens and the Earth. The One Above All commanded Heaven's legions of angels beneath Him, but one angel shone more beautiful than any other; the Lightbringer. The Lightbringer was the righthand to the Presence, but envy seeped into his chest and the Lightbringer sought to usurp the One Above All. Deceiving other angels to aid his pride, the Heavens were dragged into a war that ended only when the Lightbringer and his allies were cast out and doomed to an eternity of torment in Gehenna.

An ally of the One Above All, Zauriel served the Presence for several millennia acting as one of His Elected. In this role, Zauriel acted as a guardian angel for the downtrodden and misfortunate. Observing humanity and intervening on behalf of the righteous and God-fearing, Zauriel invisibly protected and guided numerous figures throughout history. However, Zauriel eventually fell in love with a mortal woman and defied the Presence by intervening at the time of her destined death. Held in contempt for violating his station by the Archangel Asmodel, Zauriel's punishment was to be cast out of Heaven and banished to live a mortal life on Earth.

But Asmodel was actually an agent of the Deceiver and was working to weaken the One Above All's forces for another war.

Before being banished to a mortal existence on Earth, Zauriel was a Guadian Angel in the service of the omnipotent, omnipresent deity known as the Presence or the One Above All. As a Guardian Angel, Zauriel was immortal, living past lifetime after lifetime and protecting those they were assigned to until their destined time of death. However, this all came to an end when an angel by the name of Asmodeus indicated Zauriel of working with the Deceiver against the Presence. In reality, it was Asmodeus aiding the Deciever in an attempted coup on Heaven, but Zauriel was cast out and banished to live a mortal life on Earth.

Stripped of their immortality, Zauriel was exiled and re-born in the form of a mortal man named Daniel Hall. Leading a fairly regular childhood and growing into a role of a public defender, Daniel remained unaware of his previous existence, until a blinding light stopped him on his way home from work one night...

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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Having struck out on applying as both Thor and Hawkman, I had to go back to the drawing board. There were shared elements between the two characters, similar powers, fondness for weapons and a long life. Hercules had been suggested to me quite a bit, but I never really jived with Greco-Roman mythology all that much. In my search, I stumbled across Zauriel who hit a lot of the same story beats as the previous two characters while also being obscure enough he doesn't really affect even those he's connected with.

O N G O I N G
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I S S U E # 0 1
PARADISE LOST

TBD

Characters Involved: TBD
Desired # of Players: TBD

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TBD
M A V E R I C K S 2 0 x x

| ◼ G M: Lord Wraith | ◼ G E N R E: Superhuman, Near-Future, Cyberpunk, Noir, Slice of Life | ◼ T Y P E: Collaborative Sandbox with Linear Elements |

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Star Wars RP Idea:

>Star Trek-esque setting, ie Imperial Cruiser. RP focuses on the upper management of a high-class cruiser
>Story is told from the perspective that the Empire is a force for good in the galaxy, shows the benefits of the Empire and stabilization of planets and worlds in the aftermath of the Clone Wars.
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Dedicated to the memory of Brian Jacques...
T H E Y U R A Z E N P R I N C E


A T A L E O F R E D W A L L

P R O L O G U E:

The warm autumn winds shifted through the bustling courtyard, carrying the various crimson and golden leaves through the air and across the sandstone walls of Redwall Abbey. Anticipation hung in the air as the various beasts hurriedly finished their tasks, knowing the excitement that awaited them. Outside the towering gates, music could be heard in the distance as the colourful banners of the Travelling Thistledown Troupe appeared on the horizon. In the lead was a tall hare, who betwixt his paws held a large conch shell. Holding it to his mouth, the hare's ears stood up as he emptied his lungs through the shell. Its cry echoed ahead of the troupe announcing their approach.

The arrival of the troupe only further served to signal that the Name Day festivities would soon ensue. Delicious aromas wafted from the abbey's kitchen, filling the Great Hall and making their way into the courtyard where the Thistledown Troupe was receiving a very warm welcome. Dibbuns who could barely contain their excitement broke out of their single line formation behind the Sister watching them, descending upon the arrival troupe with squeaks and giggles of unbridled joy.

Jugglers and tumblers suddenly moved to the front of the crowd, wooing and entertaining them well into the evening, Their antics caused the Dibbuns to roll around the grass in fits of giggles while deep belly laughs came from the adults in attendance. As the night wore on and the smell of the feast being prepared overwhelmed the senses of the hungry crowd. As if hearing the cries of the stomachs of those in attendance, the Troupe's Melodious Mice broke into song, humming a simple melody while the hare returned to the stage and placed the shell to his mouth again blowing a few well-timed notes before breaking into song.

"Food to eat and games to play.
Tell me why, tell me why."

The hare's question was barely out of his mouth before the Dibbuns cried back in response, their less than on key voices drowning out the three mice lasses joining along with them.

“Kind muvva, gudd muvva, er, er, O pleeze tell this beast
Dat this is our Nameday, an’, an’, an’ we wanna feast!”

The hare chortled with laughter before responding once more.

“Serve it out and eat it up.
Have a try, have a try.
Nameday, Nameday, fun and game day,
Come, Brother, Sister, join our play.
This season has a name!”

As the hare let his final note ring out, a pair of moles in colourful clothes and silly make-up snuck up behind him. The Dibbuns cried out for the Hare to watch out but it was too late as the mole dumps a pair of buckets over his head. Laughter erupted from the crowd suddenly as the buckets emptied, as in place of water, flower petals rained over the hare.

"Let's eat!" The Friar cried out as the crowd moved into the Great Hall. Sprawling tables were filled with all sorts of foods. It was a joyous meal for honest creatures. Dishes went this way and that from paw to paw. Dishes made to be passed and to be shared. Dishes both sweet and savoury.

Hot cornbread with hazelnuts and apple baked into it, and a salad of celery, lettuce, shredded carrot, and white button mushrooms. Steaming soups, new bread with shiny golden crusts, old cheeses studded with dandelion, acorn and celery. Turnip-potato-beetroot pie, shrimp 'n' hotroot soup, and numerous cheeses rounded out the savoury dishes. But that was hardly the extent of the feast.

Snowcream pudding, hot fruit pies, colourful trifles, tasty pastries and nutbread cake iced with clover honey. Sugared plums and honeyed pears vied for a place with the harvest salads and vegetable flans. Turnovers, fondants and tarts alternated with beakers of cold fizzy strawberry cordial, cowslip and parsley liquor, brown ale, greensap milk, mint tea, rosehip cup and elderberry wine to wash it all down.

Not a single beast walked away from the Nameday feast with an empty stomach and more than a few walked away plumper than they had been when the day began. The watchful eyes of Martin the Warrior peered down fondly from his image upon the sprawling tapestry that nearly spanned the entire width of the Great Hall. The tapestry originally detailed the founding of Redwall Abbey and Martin's triumph over Tsarmina Greeneyes but over the years it had been added to and now was a visual history of the Abbey's history. From Martin to his reincarnation, Matthias and beyond, the tapestry depicted the Abbey, its warriors and the events that had befallen it.

Studying the tapestry in an effort to stretch his legs after such a full meal, the young initiative paused upon coming to a fearsome figure looming at the edge of the intricate piece of art. The stitching here was newer than other places, a more recent addition to the tapestry. The figure in question was drawn like a wildcat, but larger, the ears different, more pointed with tuffs coming off of the end. An army of vermin surrounded the figure, shields like the initiative had never seen, interlocked and creating a wall.

"Have you ever heard the tale of the Yurazen Prince?" A voice asked from behind the initiative, causing the young squirrel to nearly jump out of his fur.

"Abbot-"

"Oh young one, I didn't mean to frighten you." The Abbot chuckled, "Beautiful isn't it? The tapestry is one of the Abbey's most precious possessions. Arguably more so than the Sword of Martin itself." He added, gesturing with a grayed paw towards the blade hung above the tapestry. Forged of a fallen star, the Sword of Martin the Warrior was a family heirloom that was reforged by the Badger Lord, Boar the Fighter. In times of trouble, the Spirit of Martin would elect a champion from the Abbey to wield the legendary blade. A simple weapon adorned with a red pommel stone, the blade was inscribed with the phrase 'I AM THAT IS'.

"I've never seen anything like it." The young squirrel responded. "It's almost like it was calling to me."

"It's not unusual for the Spirit of Martin to do so." The Abbot mused, "He has quite the eye for potential."

"Who was the Yurazen Prince?" The squirrel asked returning to the Abbot's initial question.

"Oh, that is quite the tale, so much so perhaps everyone should gather around." The Abbot answered, raising his voice to address the Great Hall. "Come, young ones," The aging beast stated as he moved towards his chair with the aid of his cane.

"The tale of the Yurazen Prince comes from the first-hand account of Brother Rigby, nearly twenty seasons ago. Gather around my friends, our story begins now."




Our tale begins in the peaceful abbey of Redwall located within Mossflower Forest. As the harvest season draws near, a travelling circus troupe has knocked on the abbey doors trading performance for food.

Tales have often told of a nation to the far South East, beyond the Bell and Badger and across the Southern Plateau. Located in the sprawling land of Yurazea, there sits a kingdom ruled by twin Kings with a cruel claw.

Two Kings
Yurazea
Hellados - Kingdom
Lake Daemon - Home of the House of Lynx
where the House of Yura rule with all of Hellados a cruel claw.

Lake Daemon
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Dedicated to the memory of Brian Jacques...
T H E Y U R A Z E N P R I N C E


A T A L E O F R E D W A L L

P R E M I S E:

Lord Wraith invites you to return to a simpler time and embrace the nostalgia of epic battles waged between beast and vermin. Adapting the novels of Brian Jacques into a roleplay, the intention is to replicate Jacques' storytelling style with players taking on the roles of Abbey Dwellers or other members of Mossflower in an effort to repeal an invading vermin horde led by a Prince intent on taking both the titular Abbey and the Sword of Martin the Warrior for himself.

As events unfold in the initial IC, it will turn out that the Sword of Martin the Warrior is missing from Redwall Abbey. After the Spirit of Martin reveals itself to the player characters, they will then depart from the Abbey to locate the ancestral weapon, all while the advancing horde led by the Yurazen Prince comes closer and closer. Ideally, the story will revisit favourite locations like Salamandastron, and favourite factions like the Guosim (the Guerilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower) shrews and the Long Patrol.

Players will be allowed to apply initially for one primary character who will be undergoing the quest, but later able, and encouraged to create supporting characters as other factions are encountered and the world expands. In keeping with the style of the books, heroic characters will only be 'beasts' (mice, squirrels, otters, moles, hedgehogs, shrews, hares and badgers), while villainous characters will be vermin. Initially, players will be dissuaded from applying as vermin, but as the Yurazen Prince and his army come more and more into focus, players will be able to assume the role of supporting characters in the vermin horde.
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S E T T I N G:

Our tale will begin during the Autumn of the Long Harvest when Redwall Abbey is visited by the Travelling Thistledown Troupe. The Mossflower Country will be the primary setting for events in our story, with Redwall Abbey obviously appearing heavily in the beginning and end of the game and any time in between if we decide to run any sort of 'B' plot featuring additional Abbey Dwellers.

For this game, we'll primarily be referencing from this map, which is heavily based upon the official map from the Redwall Map & Riddler. Unfortunately, Jacques has a number of minor inconsistencies from book to book both in geography and scale of the characters (ie in the original Redwall, horses, manmade structures and the size of the cat are all more in line with realistic proportions versus as the series went on and developed and a lot of these elements are dropped leading to wolverine being roughly the size of a badger).

Our vermin horde, however, will be of my own creation is going to be coming from the East, beyond the Bell and Badger Rocks and even beyond the Southern Plateau. Coming from the distant land of Yurazea, the Prince and his army, will be shown primarily through GM posts as advancing steadily and the obstacles they have to overcome until such a point that they've made it to Mossflower Woods.

M O S S F L O W E R C O U N T R Y:
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R E D W A L L A B B E Y:
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B R I E F H I S T O R Y:
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Following the destruction and flooding of Kotir, an ancient castle in Mossflower ruled for seasons by the Greeneyes family, blueprints of the Abbey complex designed by Germaine became reality with Martin's assistance.

The Abbey was built out of red sandstone from a neighbouring quarry by woodlanders of Mossflower and survivors of the Loamhedge Abbey plague. Construction took more than 20 seasons.

A tapestry was woven in the Great Hall and dedicated to Martin the Warrior. After the deaths of Germaine and Martin, both mice were entombed beneath the Abbey.

While it is ordained to be a peaceful location, many times a warrior is called upon by the residents to combat a threat against this peace.

Redwallers traditionally name the Seasons after some large occurrence or event. Young citizens of the Abbey are called Dibbuns.

The unwritten rule of Redwall Abbey is that "Redwall mice can go anywhere, through any territory, and pass unharmed."

A B B E Y C H A R T E R:
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I
To be brothers and sisters of peace and goodwill while living together under the protection of Redwall Abbey.
II
Forsake all unnecessary forms of violence, not only to Mossflower, its trees, grasses, flowers and insects, but to all living creatures.
III
Help and comfort the dispossessed.
IV
Harbor orphans and waifs.
V
Offer shelter to all creatures alike.
VI
Give clothing, warmth and food to any beast or creature that is deemed in need of such.
VII
Educate and learn, particularly in the healing arts, comfort the sick, nurse the injured and help the wounded.
Take food from the earth and replenish the land by caring for it; husbanding crops, living in harmony with the seasons always.
VIII
To honour and protect friends and brethren, only raising paw to do battle when life at Redwall is threatened by treachery and the shadow of war; at these times every Redwall creature should show courage, fortitude and obedience to the Father Abbot. The taking of another life must always be justified and never carried out in a wanton manner.

R U L E S & G U I D E L I N E S:



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Dedicated to the memory of Brian Jacques...
T H E Y U R A Z E N P R I N C E


A T A L E O F R E D W A L L

C H A R A C T E R S H E E T:

For a character submission, I'm not going to be providing a skeleton and instead leaving the formatting of your application open to you the player. This way, you can use your skeleton as a way to tell us about your character even further. Basically, what I'm looking for is a character concept, obviously, we need the basics like name and species, but more importantly, I want a brief synopsis of who this character is, why you want to play them, what they will bring to the team and any goals you have for them.

N A M E:
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Names in the world of Redwall are fairly straightforward and often under the pen of Brian Jacques, were generally meaningful to the character. Some species, such as the Otters and Hares, often carry family surnames, while Badgers more often have titles, especially Badger Lords. Squirrels, Mice and Moles all have more traditionally given and surname structures.

S P E C I E S:
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B A D G E R S
Standing well over a head taller than both their loyal Hares and the friendly Otters, Badgers are among the largest beasts to reside in Mossflower. Often few in number, badgers are greatly territorially, and it is uncommon to find more than one in the same place unless they have a family. Compared to other beasts, their lifespans are notably longer, matching their towering size as Badgers are the only beast to measure their own age in years instead of seasons.

In addition to their size, Badgers are tremendously strong, often wielding weapons and armour that other beasts would find difficult to lift, let alone use. They are master smiths, with a Badger Lord having been responsible for forging the legendary Sword of Martin the Warrior.

However, more so than any other beast, Badgers have been plagued with suffering from the ‘Bloodwrath’, a terrible and dangerous infliction that drives the afflicted into a berserker-like while at the height of battle. When a Badger’s eyes turn red, it is best to stay out of their way as nothing can stand in the way of a badger suffering from Bloodwrath.

Imbued with a tremendous sense of honour and duty, Badgers have long been respected by other fair beasts and often have ruled over Mossflower Woods from their former ancestral home of Brocktree. A familiar sound to all badgers is the call of the mountain fortress Salamandastron, standing watch against raiders on the western shores. It is said that there must always be a Badger Lord in Salamandastrom and for many seasons there always has been. Those that find themselves called to the position serve with wisdom and dignity.

But beyond warriors, Badgers often tend to be scholars or guardians of peaceful beasts, readily accepting a protector role. As an example, Redwall Abbey is scarcely found without a Badger Mother tending to its mischievous dibbuns. As a general rule, all badgers strive to uphold a personal code of honour, but there are those that are willing to do anything to protect their companions.

H A R E S
Hares are tall and lanky creatures, with flopping ears and scut tails. Their fur can be either brown or white, with dark, glinting eyes. Their infamous appetites typically have no mark on their frames, as they remain thin, spare, and sometimes even scrawny.

Hares are jovial and jocular creatures, using their lighthearted attitudes to hide a disciplined, tough, and sometimes bloodthirsty fighting beast inside. They live life to the fullest, usually by eating vast amounts of food. It is said that to invite a hare to dinner is to invite a living famine!

Many hares have ties to the famed and decorated Long Patrol, the fighting force that defends Salamandastron. Even the hare family that lives more than a month's travel away will show the influence of the military lifestyle, be it in speech or attitude.

Hares also hate to be called rabbits, as their unfortunate foes are quick to discover.

H E D G E H O G S
Hedgehogs are shorter and stockier with a coat of spikes on their back, serving as both armour and a weapon when they curl defensively. They are usually either a toasty or dark brown, with long snouts and solid builds.

Hedgehogs are not usually warriors, preferring peaceful life, usually involving brewing their own drinks, to fighting. However, when the need arises, they can be competent fighters and stalwart companions. They share a love of life, food, and drink.

M I C E
Mice are the most common inhabitant in Mossflower Woods and have occupied the area since time immemorial.

Mice are of average height and build, with fur colours ranging from tawny to dark brown. Their tails aren't as long as those of rats and are a soft pink colour. Their eyes are usually brown.

Mice are a widespread and determined race in Mossflower, filling whatever need needs filling. Many warrior mice take on direct battle or leadership roles, while others prefer to remain stealthy and work quietly to sabotage the foebeast. Mice are typically upright, honourable beasts, eager to help those in need.

M O L E S
Moles typically have black fur and always have large digging claws. Their eyes are small and bright, and their faces easily crinkle into large grins. They are shorter than most other beasts, even hedgehogs.

Yes, the accent is usually required. Moles are smart, sensible, and practical, often providing a supporting role in large forces. They are at home underground, and hate heights and large bodies of water; they get seasick easily. Their judgement and reasoning make them valuable allies. They are also famously fond of the dish known as deeper'n'ever pie.

O T T E R S
Otters are tall and usually brawny, built for swimming. Their rudders (tails) are broad and powerful, and some have even used those as weapons. They have long, thick fur which is usually dark brown or almost black.

Otters are jovial and friendly when not fighting, but dangerous opponents when roused to battle. They are a passionate race, going over both ends of the spectrum. An otter loves what he or she loves greatly, but if they swear vengeance on a foebeast, they will not stop until they are satisfied. Among the things they usually love are rough-housing, swimming, and the famously spicy shrimp 'n' hotroot soup.

S H R E W S
Shrews are small, boisterous beasts, with spiky grey fur and bright, narrow eyes. Their voices are gruff and well made for shouting and arguing, which they're famous for.

Shrews are noisy, lively, and love to "debate", but it usually just means shout at each other until a minor scuffle breaks out. Despite their belligerent tendencies, they are always willing to help beasts in need, especially if it involves fighting. In battle, they are fearless and self-sacrificing, never willing to let a comrade die, or at least die alone.

S Q U I R R E L S
Squirrels are thin and rangy creatures, with bushy tails and red fur. Their ears are sharply pointed, and their front teeth are slightly larger than most other creatures'.

Squirrels are among the more serious beasts of Mossflower, taking their warrior traditions very seriously. Numerous families have a specific ancestral tradition, usually that of an archer. They refuse to bear witness to injustice and bring down "the wrath of the woodland" on any who would bully the weak. They are loyal companions in battle, and squirrel archers are known as being the best in the world.

V O L E S
Voles are diminutive of frame and tail, preferring to keep to the shadows rather than risk their hides in an open fight. Their faces are short, as are their paws. Similar in stature and size to a mouse, a vole is most easily identified by its smaller, recessed ears and narrow eyes. Voles often tend to be more rotund in frame, though this isn't always necessarily true. Voles are not as common as mice but exhibit a similar personality type. Some families live near rivers, and many reside at Redwall Abbey.

Voles tend to remain out of pitched battle, as they like their fur where it is, thank you very much. Somebeasts even call them cowards, but they haven't met a cornered vole. When not stealing what needs stealing, voles can be found enjoying a simple life at home.
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N A M E
N A M E

"Witty Quote"
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Given Middle Surname
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Age | ♀/♂ | Species
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Marital Status | Occupation

P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
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C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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This is where you outline your vision for the character including any notable changes or differences from the regularly accepted canon. This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development. You could also include any notable differences from the standard canon you've added to your character.

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
________________________________________________________________________________________
A full physical description to compliment your face claim and physical profile. In addition to physical attributes, this section can be used to flesh out personal mannerisms such as how the character carries themselves, do they talk with their hands or other such notable details. A sense of personal style can also be described here along with any other elaboration needed to complement the physical profile such as a description of tattoos, coloured hair etc.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
________________________________________________________________________________________
Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? For a driving character, there should be enough of an outline present to interest other players along with specifications towards how many players you're looking to involve or available roles. For supporting characters, this should indicate either a plot you've arranged to be part of or the type of plot you're looking to be involved in. Roaming characters have the privilege of doing either or simply stating a roadmap for the character to exemplify how you'd ideally like them to move between plots.



Lenny the Shrew
Geoffrey Gnawstrum
Bernard 'Bernie' Diggory Purth
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B A N C R O F T
B A N C R O F T

"What I wouldn't give for a good old beaker of cold cider right now."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Bancroft 'Banny' or 'Croft', son of Geoffrey
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Three Seasons | | Mouse
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Single | Communal Farmer

P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
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C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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An adventurous young mouse, Bancroft is on the cusp of adulthood. He spent the first season of his life living outside of the Abbey walls in a nearby farming community under the care of his father and mother. His father, a fieldmouse by the name of Geoffrey, oversaw the work of the family farm located to the East of Redwall Abbey. His farm fed not only their local community but also traded with Redwall Abbey for honey and Salamandastron in thanks for protection.

Unfortunately, this also led to Geoffrey's demise. Due to several consecutive ongoing battles with the toad tribes that lived along the western shores, Geoffrey and his farmhands were forced to change their delivery route to travel North through Mossflower Woods, instead of West past Redwall Abbey. While Mossflower Woods is generally peaceful, it is not without its own threats and its sprawling woodlands hold many vermin. It however was not vermin that led to Geoffrey's death but instead a dangerous adder that had travelled from the East and found Mossflower to be a flourishing hunting ground.

Salamandastron had dispatched a unit of hares to meet Geoffry, but the Long Patrol was too late to save Geoffrey and instead, an Officer returned only Geoffrey's tattered scarf to the homestead where Bancroft and his mother, Lonicera, were eagerly awaiting Geoffrey's return. Without Geoffrey or his farmhands and with Bancroft barely being a dibbun, Lonicera found the workload of the farm to be overwhelming and reached out to Redwall Abbey for help. The Abbey took Lonicera and Bancroft in, aiding in keeping the farm running and helping to raise and support Bancroft.

Growing up, Bancroft often heard tales of his father the hard worker and the protector of their community. Though his mother forbid Bancroft from ever wielding a weapon, Banny learned to handle the tools of his trade and assisted in repealing at least one vermin attack on the same farm. A regular at Redwall Abbey, Bancroft does what he can to assist the community when he makes a delivery.

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
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A mouse of average height, with an athletic build from years of working around his family's farm. Due to this, Bancroft is a strong and hardy mouse, stronger than the average members of his species and an agile and capable climber. The young mouse is rarely seen without his father's crimson scarf wrapped around his neck and often a thick pair of belts holding both a loose-fitting pair of trousers at his waist along with his tools. His wrist and ankles are often kept wrapped for additional support and to avoid strain especially when helping with supply runs.

Coated in a tawny brown coat with a cream-coloured underbelly that starts from his chin, Bancroft appears to be in good health with a shiny coat aside from dust and straw that often clings to his fur. His ears are often perked above his head and are full and round with no notable knicks or damage. His eyes are full of life, often radiating mischievous energy when not peering at his surroundings with an overwhelming curiosity.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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With Bancroft, I'm planning on telling a coming-of-age story. As the Sword of Martin the Warrior is taken from the Abbey, he'll see it as an opportunity to prove his maturity by helping retrieve it. While I'm not against Bancroft growing to be an Abbey Warrior, it's not the true goal of his character arc and instead, I want him to grow beyond the shadow of his father who has become almost a mythological figure in his life.

There definitely is a desire to introduce the adder who killed Geoffrey so Bancroft can seek revenge against the snake. Additionally a reintroduction to the Long Patrol officer who brought Geoffrey's scarf to the grieving family and of course a journey to Salamandastron.

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"Witty Quote"
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y

Given Middle Surname
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Age | ♀/♂ | Sexuality
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Marital Status | Occupation | Affiliation
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P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T

This is where you outline your vision for the character including any notable changes or differences from the regularly accepted canon. This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development. You could also include any notable differences from the standard canon you've added to your character.

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
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A full physical description to compliment your face claim and physical profile. In addition to physical attributes, this section can be used to flesh out personal mannerisms such as how the character carries themselves, do they talk with their hands or other such notable details. A sense of personal style can also be described here along with any other elaboration needed to complement the physical profile such as a description of tattoos, coloured hair etc.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )

Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? For a driving character, there should be enough of an outline present to interest other players along with specifications towards how many players you're looking to involve or available roles. For supporting characters, this should indicate either a plot you've arranged to be part of or the type of plot you're looking to be involved in. Roaming characters have the privilege of doing either or simply stating a roadmap for the character to exemplify how you'd ideally like them to move between plots.


N A M E
N A M E

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"Witty Quote"
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y

Given Middle Surname
_________________________________________________________
Age | ♀/♂ | Sexuality
_________________________________________________________
Marital Status | Occupation | Affiliation
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S

C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y
C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y

This is where you outline your vision for the character including any notable changes or differences from the regularly accepted canon. This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development. You could also include any notable differences from the standard canon you've added to your character.

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E

A full physical description to compliment your face claim and physical profile. In addition to physical attributes, this section can be used to flesh out personal mannerisms such as how the character carries themselves, do they talk with their hands or other such notable details. A sense of personal style can also be described here along with any other elaboration needed to complement the physical profile such as a description of tattoos, coloured hair etc.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )

Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? For a driving character, there should be enough of an outline present to interest other players along with specifications towards how many players you're looking to involve or available roles. For supporting characters, this should indicate either a plot you've arranged to be part of or the type of plot you're looking to be involved in. Roaming characters have the privilege of doing either or simply stating a roadmap for the character to exemplify how you'd ideally like them to move between plots.
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M O N T Y
M O N T Y

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"I won't slow down 'til I'm zeroed."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y

Rogelio Presley Montgomery
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38 | | Heterosexual
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Widowed | Mechanic/Bartender/Driver | Seven Nations
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S

C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y
C H A R A C T E R H I S T O R Y

A driver with a death wish, Rogelio Presley Montgomery, or simply Monty, is an unclanned Nomad working in Night City. Originally a man who had it all, the life that he fought was stripped away when his mainline was gunned down in front of him. In his quest for revenge, Monty began using cars from the auto shop he worked at to retaliate against those who had taken his wife from him. These stunts began to gain the attention of local fixers and soon Monty found himself taking jobs as a driver.

This is where you outline your vision for the character including any notable changes or differences from the regularly accepted canon. This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development. You could also include any notable differences from the standard canon you've added to your character.

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E

A full physical description to compliment your face claim and physical profile. In addition to physical attributes, this section can be used to flesh out personal mannerisms such as how the character carries themselves, do they talk with their hands or other such notable details. A sense of personal style can also be described here along with any other elaboration needed to complement the physical profile such as a description of tattoos, coloured hair etc.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )

Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? For a driving character, there should be enough of an outline present to interest other players along with specifications towards how many players you're looking to involve or available roles. For supporting characters, this should indicate either a plot you've arranged to be part of or the type of plot you're looking to be involved in. Roaming characters have the privilege of doing either or simply stating a roadmap for the character to exemplify how you'd ideally like them to move between plots.
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Cyberware
-Monowire
-Reflexes
-Optical Camo
-Beserk Cyberdeck? (Slows time, increases response), limited quick hacks

-Overture, matte black with gold baroque inlay, named Chelsea after late wife
-Double Barrel Shotgun, shortened barrel for ease of use from vehicle

-Synoptic link between Monty and Car, suped up Quadra 66-Avenger.
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SDV023889471IFED U.S.Department of Justice Case Doc No, JT/64921217 Date: 4/24/2014
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C L A S S I F I C A T I O N:
F E D E R A L B U R E A U O F I N V E S T I G A T I O N
F E D E R A L B U R E A U O F I N V E S T I G A T I O N
D I V I S I O N: B E H A V I O R A L A N A L Y S I S U N I T
D I V I S I O N: B E H A V I O R A L A N A L Y S I S U N I T
R E G I O N 1: N O R T H E A S T
R E G I O N 1: N O R T H E A S T

935 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW Washington, D.C. 20535-0001
B . A . U .
B . A . U .
S . S . A .
S . S . A .
T H O R E A U,
T H O R E A U,
J O S E P H E.
J O S E P H E.
P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N
P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N
________________________________________________________________________________________
NAME: | Joseph Edward Thoreau MD
_______________________________________________________________________
STATUS: | Active
_______________________________________________________________________
INDEX DATE: | 4/14/2014
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DATE OF BIRTH: | 7/25/1968
_______________________________________________________________________
ALIAS(ES): | [REDACTED]
_______________________________________________________________________
RESIDENCE: | Marbury Point, VA
_______________________________________________________________________
CITIZENSHIP: | U.S. Citizen
_______________________________________________________________________
CLEARANCE LEVEL: | Senior Special Agent

B A C K G R O U N D
B A C K G R O U N D
________________________________________________________________________________________
Joseph was born to an upper middle class family in Eastern Pennsylvania. His father, Lionel Thoreau was a former member of the British Armed Forces before resettling in the United States after meeting an American Nurse during the second World War. Lionel served in the British Armed Forces through the Royal Army Medical Corps as an assistant surgeon, before using his medical degree to work as the County Medical Examiner once stateside. It was this career choice that exposed Joseph from a young age to an interest in law enforcement.

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An academically-inclined individual, Joseph originally attended the University of Michigan, following in his father's footsteps as he obtained a doctorate in Forensic Pathology. Moving back towards home, Joseph found employment in the Philadelphia County Medical Office. Working as a medical examiner during the ongoing investigation into the serial killer who was later identified as Gary Heidnik, Joseph began to find himself discontent merely working with the dead and instead pursued further education. Finding a work and school balance that successfully funded his endeavour, Joseph attended the University of Pennsylvania where he obtained a Bachelor of Science in Criminal Justice. He found later furthered his education and achieve a Master's in the field of Anthropological Criminology.

R E C R U I T M E N T
R E C R U I T M E N T
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Originally serving as a medical examiner, Joseph would later move into law enforcement, balancing the demands of working as a patrol officer with his studies. In his mid thirties, he was promoted to Detective and eventually transferred from Philadelphia to the Chicago Police Department. It was here, in the Windy City, that Joseph again began to change his career and moved away from investigative work and into special operations. Undergoing training, Joseph became a Crisis Negotiator which allowed him to work alongside specialized units such as SWAT, bomb squad and canine units.

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It was also in this line of work that Joseph was introduced to the [REDACTED] ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅. ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅. ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅. ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅.

C A R E E R W I T H T H E B U R E A U
C A R E E R W I T H T H E B U R E A U
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Joseph joined the Bureau during shortly after his thirty-ninth birthday. He's been a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit for over a decade and has contributed greatly on many different cases due to his extensive experiences and education.

A S S O C I A T E S A N D R E L A T I O N S H I P S
A S S O C I A T E S A N D R E L A T I O N S H I P S
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A C Q U A I N T A N C E S
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F A M I L Y
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Father
Mother
Sister (Older)
Sister (Younger)

F R I E N D S H I P S
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R O M A N T I C
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[REDACTED] ▅▅▅ wife ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅ estranged ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅. ▅▅ ▅ murder ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ scarring ▅▅▅. ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ moved ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅. ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ sons ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅.

S I T U A T I O N A L
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Aguilar, Chris
Neagoe, Lucian
Stannis, Samantha
P H O T O I D E N T I F I C A T I O N
P H O T O I D E N T I F I C A T I O N
_________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________
P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N
P H Y S I C A L D E S C R I P T I O N
_________________________________________________________
RACE: | Caucasian
_________________________________________________________________
SEX: | Male
_________________________________________________________________
HEIGHT: | 6'-1"
_________________________________________________________________
WEIGHT: | 168lbs
_________________________________________________________________
HAIR COLOUR: | Black, Graying
_________________________________________________________________
HAIR LENGTH: | Short
_________________________________________________________________
EYE COLOUR: | Hazel
_________________________________________________________________
HANDEDNESS: | Right

P S Y C H P R O F I L E
P S Y C H P R O F I L E
_________________________________________________________
SEXUALITY: | Heterosexual
_________________________________________________________________
PERSONALITY: | Introverted
_________________________________________________________________
OUTLOOK: | Cynical
_________________________________________________________________
PERSONALITY
DISORDERS:
| OCD, PTSD
_________________________________________________________________
BEHAVIOR: | Stable
_________________________________________________________________
MEDICATION: | Naproxen
_________________________________________________________________
EDUCATION: | BSc, MSc., M.D.
_________________________________________________________________
LANGUAGE(S): | English, French, Spanish,
Arabic, Latin

T R A N S C R I P T
T R A N S C R I P T
_________________________________________________________
▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ [REDACTED] ▅▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ [REDACTED]. ▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ [REDACTED] ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅ [REDACTED] ▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅. ▅▅▅▅▅ [REDACTED] ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅.

A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S
A D D I T I O N A L N O T E S
_________________________________________________________
-Scarring from bullet injury to right thigh causes Joseph to walk with a limp. While capable of passing all physical examinations of the FBI, it is easier to use a cane.
-Sidearm: Glock 19


-Estranged/Separated Wife?
-Children
-Did a press conference where he delivered a profile that insulted the killer resulting in the death of ___ more victims.
-Killer retaliated by killing the Thoreaus' babysitter/niece and catching his wife off guard. Physically scarred the youngest child. Brand?
-Sons are currently 21 and 19 (9 and 7 at the time of the incident.)
-Mesmer assaulted and tortured the niece in front of the boys, all while ranting about being a real man in response to Joseph's profile. He had every intention of doing the same to their mother.

J O S E P H T H O R E A U
J O S E P H T H O R E A U
A N T H R O P O L O G I C A L C R I M I N O L O G I S T & F O R E N S I C P A T H O L O G I S T
A N T H R O P O L O G I C A L C R I M I N O L O G I S T & F O R E N S I C P A T H O L O G I S T

The satisfying snip of the garden shears rang out cleanly in the stillness of the sunny afternoon. In the distance, soft waves rolled over the numerous smoothed stones that lined the waterfront at the foot of the large yard. Adjusting the straw hat atop his head, Dr. Joseph Thoreau picked the cane beside him up from the ground, planting it firmly before lifting himself to his feet. A cry of protest in the form of a dull ache radiated from the old wound beneath the pleated pants and heavy apron. Finding his balance, Joseph picked up the dozen freshly cut roses before him, minding the thorns, before pocketing the shears in the front of his apron. Slowly he made his way inside, Joseph entered through the reardoor of the large colonial-era home. Sheets and tarps were draped across the antique furniture that lined the hallways and the living room looked like it hadn't been touched in this century.

It would be enough to unnerve the common man. It was almost downright macabre, the entire place looked unlived and abandoned. Pausing at the doorway into the large kitchen, a sad smile found its way onto the grizzled features of the older man. His hand traced the moulding around the door, dwelling on the notches made by the very same pocket knife that sat on his belt. Names in his own indecipherable scrawl were written beside each mark accompanied by a number.

Clearing his throat, Joseph resumed his pace. His cane tapped along the marble floors of white and black tile until he came into a large study. Placing the flowers down atop the waiting wrapping, Joseph maneuvered himself onto the nearby work stool. Expertly creasing the wrapping, Joseph deftly turned the items before him from a bunch of roses atop a few pieces of paper into a beautiful bouquet.

It was around this time each year that Joseph would visit her grave. It was after all his fault she had died. Had he not talked to the media all those years ago, Mesmer wouldn't have escalated. Mesmer wouldn't have come after him, or his family.

The black Jaguar roared down the hallway leaving the old estate in the distance. Joseph had been so lost in his thoughts and memories that he barely remembered getting into the car. The sun was still shining, even as the afternoon was bordering nearer to dusk than it had originally. In the distance, the spire of the old Anglican church rose over the horizon, soon followed by the iron gates that closed the fence surrounding the graveyard.

Stepping out of the car, Joseph adjusted his sunglasses before placing a felt brimmed hat upon his head. Leaving the vehicle behind, Joseph wandered into the graveyard, passing through the iron gate before making his way through the rows of tombstones. It was a path he knew well, Joseph had become a profiler over a decade ago. He thought he was well equipped for the job, but the first two years were tough.

But nothing compared to the third.

Climbing a small hill, Joseph sat down on a granite bench situated beneath a large oak tree. He was a very well-educated man, and his meandering career path had afforded him opportunities many would be jealous of. By the age of thirty-nine, Joseph thought he was prepared for anything. He was an accomplished crisis negotiator, he knew how to speak to people going through their worst. But he was not prepared for how the media took his words nor the fallout.

"I'm sorry." Joseph stated, breaking the silence as he laid the bouquet of roses down on the bench beside him. He lowered his sunglasses before removing the hat from his head. Turning his body to look towards the urn occupying the end of the memorial. His hand traced along the engraving, fingers feeling out the letters spelling 'Beloved Daughter'.

Time always seemed to stand still when he spent time with Ainsley. Dusk turned to dark and soon Joseph was roused from reading aloud under the moonlight by the ringing of his phone. Recognizing the ringtone he had assigned to members of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Joseph slid the device out of his overcoat's pocket and unlocked the screen to view the message. With a heavy sigh, he bid Ainsley goodbye and tucked the book away.

There was something relaxing about driving at night. Joseph certainly found it preferable to driving during the day. Most people would argue driving during the day was easier, but there was something the older man found comforting about travelling along a single illuminated path. Lucian hadn't divulged any details of the case in his summon, but Joseph had learned to trust his Unit Chief's discretion even if he hadn't fully learned to trust the former undercover operative.

Leaving his Jaguar under the care of the Bureau's parking garage, Joseph took the elevator to the BAU's offices finding himself among the last of the team to enter. Nodding towards Stannis and Dr. Augilar, Joseph placed his bag down at his desk, before leaning against it to take the weight off completely off both cane and old injury.

"Happy Memorial Day, hope you both were able to take the opportunity to spend it with family." He stated, his faint English accent making the 'R's roll more than his true American colleagues. Despite all the years he had spent out from under his father's roof, he had never quite managed to lose the accent.

Even after living in Chicago.

"Stannis, I'll wager your children are growing up fast. Jenny must be, what, almost one by now and Nathaniel must be about ready to start kindergarten in the fall." Joseph added, picking up the latte he had carried in. Lucian no doubt brewed a pot of the black tar that the F.B.I. 'graciously' supplied its agents but Joseph had learned a long time ago that you did not start the case with that taste in your mouth.

The room was on edge, their tension was hidden behind the idle small talk, but Joseph knew that if there was a case worth being called in at this hour, then the clock was ticking faster than any of them wanted to admit. The other two were younger, Stannis had a family and Auiglar, though brilliant, was still wet behind the ears. Turning towards Neagore, Joseph opted to pull the bandage off.

"Two questions," He stated, "How many bodies, and when are we in the air?"
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The pale light of the full moon shone through the thick layers of foliage that shielded the mossy forest floor. The eerie hoot of an owl could be heard clear as day, carried across the silence by the cold night wind. Branches snapped and leaves rustled, breaking the still of the cool night. A young man and woman running together, hand in hand emerged through the treeline. Their giggles were infectious, high on endorphins and drunk on alcohol as they wandered aimlessly, content to go anywhere and nowhere so long as they were together.

From the valley below the mountainside forest, smoke rose and the glow of the bonfire could be seen against the distant foliage even though the din of the distant party couldn't be registered by mere human ears.
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D E A T H S T R O K E
D E A T H S T R O K E

“Consider it, terminated.”
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
_________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________
Lieutenant Colonel Slade Joseph Wilson
_________________________________________________________
Caucasian | A.R.G.U.S. Spec-Ops | Team 7
_________________________________________________________
Classified | Classified | United States of America

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
_________________________________________________________
P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
_________________________________________________________
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
________________________________________________________________________________________
A career soldier, Slade Wilson forged an identity for himself at the age of sixteen and left behind his alcoholic step-father and idiot half-brother to join the U.S. Army. Find success in everything thrown at him, Slade rose through the ranks quickly and gathered the attention of the right people. Slade was asked to volunteer for a secret experiment. Signing up under the false pretense that the experiment would make him immune to the effects of the enemy's truth serum. It was only later that Slade discovered the operation was instead seeking not only to replicate, but also improve upon the Super Soldier Serum as performed by Dr. Abraham Erskine during the Second World War.

As superhumans have become more and more common, the world is finding itself in a superhuman arms race. In an effort to tip that race in the favour of the United States of America, Slade Wilson, the perfect soldier, volunteered for a cutting-edge, experimental procedure that would genetically engineer him to surpass all human limits.

The experiment was not without side effects though and Slade's body reacted violently to the procedure. Ultimately it left him in a coma for several months leading to the experiment being deemed a failure. However, upon waking up, Slade discovered the procedure had in fact worked. His strength, speed, senses, stamina, intellect and reflexes were enhanced beyond that of any ordinary man, putting him on far more even footing with the superhumans emerging across the globe.

Perhaps calling this sheet 'Deathstroke' is a bit misleading, we're not there yet. This is a slightly younger Slade Wilson than we're used to seeing. He's not yet the master assassin or jaded mercenary of the comics. In a world filled with reactive heroes that only appear once the city is already under siege, Slade Wilson works with A.R.G.U.S. as a leading member of a special operations unit known only as Team 7. In an effort to get the jump on superhumans abusing their abilities, this covert spec-ops team seeks to eliminate threats before they happen.

This is the story of what happens when you give that kind of power not to a good man, but to a good soldier.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L ( S )
C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L ( S )
________________________________________________________________________________________
I think Slade Wilson has the potential to be written as a both tragic and compelling figure. Too often the comics either use him as another hammy villain or worse, write him double dipped in angst and wrapped in edge. I see Slade as being almost a foil between Captain America and Batman, there are a lot of similarities to both in his origin and his family dynamics. But where Batman ultimately unites allies, Slade tends to drive them away and where Cap stands tall in the face of adversity, Deathstroke sells his skills to the highest bidder. I want to write the story of how someone who starts off as this ideal soldier becomes the supervillain capable of going toe to toe with the Justice League. To that end, I've placed Slade on Team 7, an A.R.G.U.S special operations team dedicated to hunting down and stopping superhuman threats before they happen. I've put the pieces in place so that Slade will ultimately specialize in taking down superhumans. All that's left is to write how he gets to the point where not only does he sell his skills, but actively enjoys being the villain.

I S S U E # 0 1
A H.I.V.E. MIND

Team 7 is dispatched to the Middle Eastern nation of Qurac in order to infiltrate Bialya. Hostilities are at an all-time high between the two nations, with their cold war bordering on open warfare. A.R.G.U.S. believes that H.I.V.E. has infiltrated the Bialyian Monarchy and is pulling the strings from within, biding their time before releasing a superhuman weapon against Qurac. The clock is ticking, is the team up to the task?

Characters Involved: Team 7
Desired # of Players: N/A


I S S U E # X X
HONEY-DESPOT

Characters Involved: TBD
Desired # of Players: N/A


I S S U E # X X
QUEEN TAKES PAWN

Characters Involved: Rose Wilson
Desired # of Players: N/A


I S S U E # X X
BUZZKILL

Characters Involved: TBD
Desired # of Players: N/A


I S S U E # X X
BURN THE NEST

Characters Involved: TBD
Desired # of Players: N/A

Slade Wilson
Government Made/Sponsored Hero whose moral high ground is slowly degraded leading to the eventual merc for hire/supervillain we all know and love.

Queen Bee - Pheromone Manipulation, wants Kurt Lance to amplify her powers so she can extend her reach and power.
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Location: Al-Doha, - Qurac
A H.I.V.E. Mind #1.01: What's the Buzz?

Interaction(s): None
Previously: None

"So..." The silence was broken by the youngest member of Team 7. Not a word had been spoken amongst them since the team had entered the Quraci port city of Al-Doha.

"...This is Qurac..." Caitlin's voice trailed off as her eyes darted back and forth across the open back of the truck. Looking beyond her teammates, she scanned the poverty-stricken streets on either side of what felt to be an ancient vehicle. Her attempt at an ice breaker had been barely audible over the engine that seemingly must have been operating since the military coup had initially taken power in the wake of the Second World War.

"Streets look almost empty without the enforcers I remember seeing on every corner." The response came from the opposite side of the truck bed.

"I definitely don't miss the sight of their AK-47s" Turning to the source of the voice, Caitlin realized it had been none other than Wintergreen who had added his own thoughts over the din of the engine. The neatly trimmed mustache that decorated his face emphasized his grin as a shared groan came from some of the other members of the team.

"Got another history lesson for us, gramps?" Eveyln dryly retorted from her seat in the back of the truck. She, and the team, full well knew that Wintergreen was about to launch into another one of his service stories. Though Evelyn would never admit it, the marksman often enjoyed Wintergreen's various stories and info dumps. It did, however, get exhausting hearing a story every time A.R.G.U.S. deployed the team. The Brit had seemingly been everywhere.

"Up until thirteen years ago, Qurac was ruled by a military dictatorship that had taken control after the British lost power over the country amidst the end of the Second World War." Wintergreen lectured, his smile growing wider with each word. "But in 20-"

"In 2009, the people revolted and overthrew their former dictator leading to the first democratically elected government in Qurac history." Interrupted the voice of Dr. Isherman. While Evelyn and Caitlin may not have heard all of Wintergreen's history lessons before, Ish had and he was more than certain that the silent man sitting across from him had not only heard every story but even served alongside Wintergreen through many of them, including this one.

Turning his attention away from the conversation, the man in question, Lieutenant Colonel Slade Wilson, looked at the woman sitting beside him. Angelica seemed oblivious to the conversation whilst sharpening one of the long blades she kept sheathed on her back. Despite her seemingly absent mind, Slade knew better than to assume she wasn't aware of her surroundings. Instead, he knew Angelica was more than likely entering a meditative state to better prepare herself for the mission ahead. Next to Wintergreen, there was no one else on the team that Slade would rather have watching his back.

"Having a President hasn't magically fixed anything," The voice came from beside Caitlin, catching Slade's attention. Turning his head, Slade listened as Kurt continued to speak.

"Quraci society is still heavily segregated between those who have and those who have-not. You can see a lot of influence from the caste system in its society and nearly seventy years under a dictatorship sure as hell didn't help anything."

"Especially not with Bialya." Slade added, bringing the conversation back to the reason why there were over seven thousand miles from home.

The relationship between Qurac and Bialya had been tense since the fall of the Ottoman Empire but things seem to take a particular turn after the Second World War when Sulieman's regime put Qurac under its dictatorship. The Bialyian Monarchy in particular had always desired the land which made up the neighbouring nation. As a coastal nation, Qurac had more influence over trade and imports than the Kingdom of Bialya desired. The two nations had remained locked in a cold war for over seventy years, though recent reports indicated that Bialya might be making the moves to ensure the two nations entered open warfare.

That's where they came in.

The seventh iteration of A.R.G.U.S.' International Operations Intervention and Response Spec-Ops Unit, or simply; Team 7. Reporting directly to Amanda Waller herself, Team 7 was overseen by Field Director Adeline Kane-Wilson. While taking orders from his ex-wife was hardly the dream job that Slade had in mind, it beat sitting behind a desk. The experiment that gave him his abilities also effectively ruined his career with the U.S. Military. Thankfully, Waller recognized their mistake and A.R.G.U.S. gained a new asset.

"I'm not complaining that we're here," Caitlin piped up again, "I just don't understand why send in a covert team when Iron Man could do a fly-by and quell the conflict?"

"Because," A smirk crossed Slade's face as the woman beside him broke her silence, "We get things done."

Angelica's words almost seemed to cut through the air, highlighting the tension between the team. It didn't help particularly when her words were followed by Slade nodding his agreement. While most of the world knew the names of the 'Avengers' or the 'Justice League', Team 7 was on a need-to-know basis. They didn't stand around to take photo-ops of getting kittens out of trees or do interviews with the local news. Unlike the 'superheroes' that people worshipped, Team 7 took care of problems before they happened.

There was no knowledge of their operations because as far as the world was concerned, they didn't exist.

"Simply put, the problems we deal with," Slade started, adding his own thoughts onto Angelica's, "Don't escape through a revolving door every month. When A.R.G.U.S. calls us, it's not to 'avenge' a problem." Holstering the pistol he was cleaning, Slade began to stand as the vehicle came to stop.

"It's to terminate it."

Slinging his bags over his shoulder, Slade exited the vehicle, quickly flanked by Angelica and Wintergreen. The rest of the team followed suit, with Caitlin being the last to exit the truck. The girl thanked their driver, her naivety never failing to surprise Slade. It was a good thing Fairchild was able to catch a tank round like it was a baseball, Slade wasn't sure she'd stay alive otherwise.

Due to the rising tensions with Bialya, the truck had only been able to take Team 7 so far. The border was still a few miles due west of their current position.

"It'd be best to wait until dark," Slade stated, "Rest here, check your gear. You know the drill."

"You realize they make double the rounds at night right?" Ish responded, "Even with the cover of darkness, that doesn't give us a whole lot of opportunity to get through."

"Wintergreen?" Motioning with his head for the other man to speak, Slade directed the team's attention towards their British comrade. Leaning back against the idle truck, Wintergreen chomped down on a fresh cigar. In one fluid movement, he cut the end and lit it, taking a few quick drags before exhaling a ring of smoke towards the team.

"Trust me lads, I've got one hell of a plan."

- -First Issue: Title Pending----
Latest Issue: Title Pending
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Location: Quraci Border, - Bialya
A H.I.V.E. Mind #1.02: That Stings A Little

Interaction(s): None
Previously: What's the Buzz?

"The plan's being blasted to hell, Gramps!"

Wintergreen could barely hear Evelyn's strained voice as she cursed him through volley after volley of gunfire. Dust and sand flew every which way, disturbed and tossed about by the helicopter above the team. It circled around once again, positioning itself to take another pass. In front of Team 7, was what was left of a wall. Its crumbling concrete and exposed rebar were barely holding together and it was unlikely to take another round from the chopper's pair of six barrelled rotary machine guns.

"For a marksman, you've done surprisingly little to return fire." Angelica sniped from behind a nearby column.

"I don't exactly see your swords being overly helpful."

Slade rolled his eyes. It was bad enough they had been pinned down, it was only made worse with Angelica and Evelyn deciding that now was a good time to trade snide insults.

"Enough." The edge to his voice was more than enough to still whatever retort that Angelica was preparing. They were foreign agents breaking countless treaties just by stepping foot in Bialya, let alone the predicament they now found themselves in. A.R.G.U.S. and more certainly, the United States, would disown every one of them if they were caught.

That wasn't an option.

Outright killing the Bialyan militants also wasn't an option. In the best-case scenario, Bialya would blame it on a terrorist attack, worst case they'd claim it was a Quraci attack and push towards open warfare. Instead, they needed to find a way to cripple the chopper without killing those inside.

"Wintergreen, Crawford, Lance and Daniels, I need all four of you to return fire. Make it look good, but don't hit the chopper." Slade instructed, readying his own weapon before motioning to the remaining two.

"Ish, I need you to overcharge your gravity sheath."

"If I do that, the suit will have to discharge the energy, it'll basically create an-" Ish paused, his eyes suddenly lighting up. Muttering aloud in a rushed breathe, he counted on a few fingers before looking back at Slade.

"I'll just need a moment."

Nodding, the super-soldier turned to the last member of his squad.

"When I give the signal, I need you to throw Ish at the helicopter. How's your fastball?"

Furrowing her eyebrows, Caitlin's eyes widened before darting from the helicopter to Isherwood and back to Slade. She had only been along for a handful of missions, her roles usually weren't combat heavy. If the team needed an obstacle moved or a door opened, that's where Caitlin came in. As she understood it, her presence was no more than a way of strong-arming her father into cooperating with A.R.G.U.S.

"Fairchild!" Slade's tone snapped Caitlin back into the moment. She hurriedly nodded before responding.

"I can do it, Sir!"

"Ish?"

"Ready when she is, boss." Came David's reply. Gunfire echoed into the night sky as the rest of the team began firing. Above them, the helicopter was on a direct approach, its miniguns firing already, exploding more sand into the night sky.

"Do it." Slade ordered as Caitlin suddenly grew in size. What was once a waif-like girl barely coming up to the chest of the six-foot-four hardened soldier, was now replaced by an Amazonian woman standing nearly a head taller than Slade.

"One fastball special coming right up." As the words left her mouth, so too did Isherwood fly through the air. The helicopter's rotors made first contact with the gravity sheath. A hexagonal pattern blast of orange light filled the sky. Falling against the chopping, subsequent blasts of light filled the sky as the blades repeatedly struck the sheath.

"C'mon, Ish-" The words were barely out of Slade's mouth before a blinding pulse of energy washed over the team. The shockwave knocking each of them to the ground.

- -First Issue: What's the Buzz?---
Next Issue: A Sticky Situation-
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Latest Issue: That Stings A Little
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SIXTEEN YEARS AGO...
"It's Colonel Wilson, correct?" The woman asked, barely raising her eyes to look towards Slade as he entered the large office. Behind her, a sprawling view of Washington D.C. sat just beyond the tall row of windows that made up the majority of the walls in the penthouse.

"Yes, Ma'am." Slade affirmed before saluting, "Lieutenant Colonel Slade Wilson."

"Slade, what nationality is that name anyways?" The woman mused, her expression stony.

"Don't answer that, Colonel," She interjected as Slade opened his mouth.

"I don't want to start our relationship with a lie. I know 'Slade' is the name you gave yourself when you forged your identity. Couldn't wait to escape home after your mother died and like any red-blooded American, you saw the army as the perfect escape."

Slade kept his own facial expressions still. While it wasn't a surprise that someone with resources could determine Slade's past, he did not want to give this woman any more of an edge by displaying any sort of emotion. Resisting the urge to ball his hands into a fist, Slade could feel his blood beginning to boil, the Mirakuru pumping through his veins echoed in his ears and through his skull. It would have been easy to give in to the rage. To actually let loose and send the woman plummeting to her death from the windows she no doubt saw as a reward for years of service.

Taking a deep breath, Slade kept himself in check. The woman had brought to mind memories that he hadn't though about for years. When Slade had left home to join the army, he had chosen to turn his back on the life he once had. Slade had been a natural fit for the U.S. army, save for one detail; he was only sixteen. Needing to get out of town and away from his step-father and idiot half-brother, Slade abandoned his birth name and forged a new identity. The army was all too eager to accept him, and soon after the forged paperwork fell through the cracks, never to be heard of again.

At least not until now.

"With a record this prestigious, it's not hard to imagine why your identity was overlooked." She continued to flip through the file open on her desk. From where he was standing Slade could see pictures of Adeline, Wintergreen and even his son, Grant.

"You've overcome every obstacle in your way. Though, your file does note you're a bit of a lone wolf." The woman paused,

"I get it though, it's hard to work with others beneath your station isn't it Colonel? When you're the best, you demand a certain level of competency that's just hard to get."

She paused, lifting a nearby glass of water to her mouth.

"You see, Colonel, I am the best." The woman continued, finally standing from her chair. While Slade noted that she was far from a petite woman, she wasn't exactly gifted in stature either. She'd have been lucky to come up to his chest. That didn't stop Slade from suddenly realizing he was the smallest person in the room.

"There's a war coming, Colonel. Your brass might not realize it yet, but you're this country's greatest asset when the tide comes in. But instead of putting their best player in, they've got you riding the bench." She stated.

"Says in your file that the experiment was a failure, that you suffer from, and I quote, 'extreme mood swings and uncontrollable violent outbursts.'"

Walking straight up to Slade, the woman raised her head to meet his eyes. "Sounds to me like absolute bullshit, Colonel. I think you've got what it takes to overcome this the same as you have everything else thus far. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life behind that desk?"

She took a step back, proceeding across the room towards a decanter filled with an amber liquid. Pouring two glasses neat, she motioned for Slade to help himself to the second before raising the other to her own lips.

"Did you know the U.S. Army intended to do the same thing to Captain America? The SSR gave them the greatest soldier the world had ever seen and what does the U.S. Government do with him? They parade him around like a circus animal to raise money for bonds."

Accepting the drink, Slade continued to silently listen.

"I'm here to ensure your potential isn't wasted." The woman continued,

"I want to turn you into the perfect counter-insurgent weapon. We're living in a brave new world, we need agents like you, Colonel." She took another sip of her drink before extending a hand.

"My name is Director Amanda Waller, and I'm putting a team together. I want you to lead it."

Slade didn't even give it a second thought before shaking Waller's hand. He had spent nearly six months behind a desk. He was aching to see some action.

"Welcome to A.R.G.U.S., Colonel."


Location: Bialya City, - Bialya
A H.I.V.E. Mind #1.03: A Sticky Situation

Interaction(s): None
To state that pain was a foreign concept to Slade Wilson would be stretching the truth. The procedure that had turned Slade Wilson into Deathstroke had dulled his sense of pain, but it wasn't completely gone. What now flowed in his veins may have turned the Lieutenant Colonel into a super-soldier, but the Mirakuru had limits and Slade was still very far from being Superman.

As if to prove that point, searing pain seemed to resonate from his eye sockets. His retinas felt like a hot poker had been jammed repeatedly into them. The detonation caused by Ish's gravity sheath overloading had created a brilliantly bright electromagnetic pulse against the night sky that had left Slade temporarily blinded before knocking him into the air. A dull ache from his less than graceful landing reverberated through the rest of the super soldier's body. The force of the impact had caught Slade by surprise, knocking the wind from his chest against the cold Bialyan sands.

Slowly, the darkness of night returned as the flashing blotches of white, orange and pink subsided. The world stopped spinning around Slade. Beginning to stand, he felt his healing factor drive back the burning. The pain faded to little more than a minor irritation as Slade stood and studied the fight's aftermath.

Scattered around him were the stunned bodies of Team 7. It came as no surprise to Slade when Caitlin was the next to stir. Had Fairchild not been in the midst of using her powers when the shockwave struck the team, the young girl would likely have been last to stand. A collective murmur of groans rose from the other semi-conscious bodies as the rest of the team began to stir.

On the other side of the crumbling wall, now further helped along by an extensive riddling of bullets, laid the down helicopter. The dust had yet to fully settle as it mixed with smoke caused in combination by shorted circuits and damage from the crash. The pilots sat slumped forward in their chairs while the gunner lay just outside the downed vehicle.

However, Ish was nowhere to be seen. Slade's eyes narrowed behind his mask, searching the horizon with his strained eyes. The darkness of the Bialyan desert at night threatened to engulf everything and what wasn't lost to the abyss of the starless sky, was surely swallowed by sand.

Turning back to the team, Slade surveyed the remaining five members before handing out orders.

"Crawford, Lance, Daniels. See if you can locate Ish. He's not with the helicopter and I'm not picking up a signal from his comms." Turning to Fairchild and Wintergreen, Slade motioned towards the helicopter.

"Gather the pilots, and strip them of their uniforms. We'll use their boots to leave tracks out of here, make it look as though they went AWOL-"

"-Team 7," Slade winced as his comms device suddenly came to life. It was suddenly quite difficult to tell if the headache and ringing in his ears as a result of the Ish's EMP or the voice of his ex-wife in his ear.

"Team 7, report," Adeline repeated, her tone absent of emotion. Raising a free hand to his ear, Slade opened the encrypted channel.

"Worried about me?" He asked dryly.

"Routine check, standard procedure." Came the unamused response.

"Your comms went down, we had to reboot to re-establish the connection. Anything to update?"

"An ariel patrol picked us up crossing the border. It's been dealt with."

"That was sloppy," She replied,

"I expected better from your team. A.R.G.U.S. values discretion in all of its operations. I hope there won't be any further setbacks. And Slade,"

Slade knew that pause too well, he knew exactly what words about to come out of Adeline's mouth.

"-If your team is discovered operating on Bialyan soil, your government will disown you."

A smug smirk crossed Slade's face beneath his mask. His prediction confirmed. Whenever things got tough for the Team, Adeline was quick to remind them they'd be disowned or abandoned if the mission ultimately went south. Moving past her threats, the commanding officer ended her scolding and returned to talking about the mission at hand.

"Any further information to report? Have you discovered any signs of H.I.V.E.?" Adeline had never been one for small talk, in years past it was a trait that Slade had found to be attractive. Now it was convenient.

For the last couple of months, it had felt like the Team had been chasing ghosts. The Advanced Research Group United Support, or A.R.G.U.S., had learned of a threat in the form of H.I.V.E. Crawford had dubbed them the Hierarchy of International Villainous Evil, but the true meaning of the four letters escaped even Waller. For whatever reason, the acronym's meaning was more secret than the cell themselves. Slade had personally resigned himself to believe it was nothing more than a gimmick.

Everyone had a gimmick these days. Gotham had a man dressed as a Batman and New York had a spider. One could even argue that the United States started the gimmicks when they sent a man to fight in World War II dressed in their flag. If these 'bad guys' wanted to theme themselves after bees, then why should he care?

His bullets didn't.

"At this point-" Slade was cut off as Wintergreen's voice interjected onto the comms.

"Colonel, you're going to want to see this."

- -First Issue: What's the Buzz?----
Latest Issue: A Sticky Situation
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