Andreyich

The Division | Mao Mao & Andreyich

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LINCOLN TUNNEL // HUDSON YARDS

Again there were gunshots, but from the taunt of the woman Badger could readily surmise they hadn't hit his comrade and so he continued moving to his position. However by the sounds of movement it seemed that the following shots were aimed to kill Bates, and he could just about make out the sound of subsonic munitions leaving a suppressed firearm. Well, they were only handguns, but Don still couldn't allow his comrade to come under threat.

Badger nodded at Bates's response, looking about the scene. Only one of the four firearms active just now were silenced and the noise of guns echoed across the area. This in turn presented a danger, several dangers in fact. The buddies of these cops could easily be around some corner and they would not be happy to see two armed men over the corpses of their fellow officers. But even if that wasn't the case, there could be lots of other vultures attracted to the sound. All hell was breaking loose and marauders of all sorts would flock here in hopes of finding some dead to pick apart for valuables.

Having finally made it to the shot policemen Badger first removed the magazine from his M4 and replaced the spent round. Then he would squat down and take their pistols along with their munitions, belts, and vests into his backpack. Even if he didn't need them it was better they came with him rather than end up in the hands of some scavenger. If he couldn't eventually find someone worthwhile to hand over the equipment to then he would just throw them into some sewer or stash them with some trash where they wouldn't be found. It might of course seem somewhat ghoulish to already start looting the woman when she was still alive, but Badger didn't particularly care. The country was fucking collapsing, there were more important things to be thinking about than some sensibilities right now.

The shot woman was clearly a real cop according to a cursory examination... well, a badge and other ID could be faked and while it was unlikely the consideration should still be on the table, and examining the friend of Officer McKinney would likely reveal more or less the same as with her, although two badges would certainly be harder to fake than one. The short interrogation that happened did confuse the Agent somewhat. While the woman's idea of cleansing the city eerily mirrored his own, he wasn't sure if he could really consider himself akin to the officer. The Agent couldn't really believe what he was hearing, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to. With the bloodloss she'd be undergoing there were only moments left, and Badger shook her a little to keep her from slipping into unconsciousness.

"What do you mean? Did these people spread the disease intentionally?" he demanded, the thought that they might have very well made it not even crossing his mind; he made sure he kept his voice down in case somebody was already closing in on the position of the duo. Regardless of exactly what her explanation was, Badger would look quizzically to Firefly, the fact he wasn't sure the woman's story should be believed all over the face.

Then it hit him. "Firefly. The civilian. Where is he?" He stood up, flicking his assault rifle to fully automatic. If the woman was in fact telling the truth then they had to know where the arrested citizen was and apprehend him as fast as possible. If they didn't, then the duo would be responsible for a very, very dangerous man escaping justice. Though he made sure not to show it, a soft panic started to set into the Agent.

Ember Grove - Reboot

The Professor watched as some runt approached the prick students he had just dealt with, the boy looking somewhat familiar. But hey, any of these kids looked familiar given they all looked the fucking same. Valentin shook his head, knowing his annoyance with some bad apples shouldn't tarnish his view of the whole student body. But damn, it was hard.

He went by to examine another painting, eventually deciding to take a good high-resolution picture of each with his phone when nobody - or at least not the host of the event - was looking. Valentin was a firm believer in pirating films, books, and videogames. So if all that couldn't be open-source for the wise individual, why couldn't some snobby art be likewise? It's not like art is actually productive, the Romanian reasoned. As he took a sip of his tea and simultaneously photographed yet another painting, something hit Valentin.

He didn't budge a millimetre.

Dr. Florescu wasn't a confrontational man, but it was quite different when someone all but forced confrontation striking him as such and while he turned very slowly thoughts of making somebody count their teeth in the gutter flowed through his mind, his lips beginning to frame the words. What he saw made him frown more in annoyance than anger, for his violent thoughts would now have to simmer down by themselves rather than be expressed. He stared at the girl for a moment or two, motionless. The hunter had heard of the little experiment and probably had seen her, but to be frank he had (for now successfully) avoided her. The thought of fighting someone who probably couldn't lift his favoured weapons and would probably be sent airborne by them was not particularly appealing. But even discounting that, she was a little girl. Fancying himself a folksy knight of sorts, Valentin would in any work with her have to more or less shield her from any harm with himself as bulwark which was a liability to say the least. That wasn't all that came to threaten his work if done with a juvenile however. When he was done with any of the supernatural regardless of if a witch, a werewolf or a vampire he left... art of them. Why just before the vampire he had sawed into paste this morning, Valentin had skinned and beheaded a witch, before forcing torn-off ribs into the eyes, nostrils, ears and mouth of the mangled head. To complete the piece, a final rib was stuck into the throat so the head could be mounted on a stump that her coven used for their meetings to let them know: the crime of their existence was known, and the sentence would be death.

But today was an even worse day to see Remy in the wild. Valentin was going to meet his Macedonian friend and it would not be good if any agents of Operation Humanity learned of the relationship. Furthermore, the girl likely wouldn't be very good at keeping operational security, and if he was known to associate with her once the nature of the youth was learned then his very own life would be in jeopardy. All of this thought went through his head in a fraction of a second, and once it was done he gently but firmly removed her from the skateboard, stepping on it to get the apparatus upright and then picking it up, while taking the elements of the "disguise" the lassie had off of her head so she wouldn't be so noticeable. He quickly followed the trail of her terrorism by the flabbergasted faces of the wealthy, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Josef was already here, while Valentin had to deal with this problem. Gripping the wrist of the girl Valentin would try to discretely lead her away, each of his sausage fingers close to the size of one of her arms. Most men disliked babies while having decent relationships with more grown kids. Valentin was the inverse, he found himself easily able to calm babies but his understanding of children was so poor it could not be mitigated by his own great many childish elements.

"Come, you want to play videogames?" the man said, deciding he'd take the girl to his office. "I've a great many."

StarCraft: New Beginning

Paul only nodded in affirmation, a good compromise of many different features reached. "Good, good, good." the fellow said while steepling his fingers on his improvised seat. "It is agreed then! Your vessel will be very soon." The man removed a surprisingly pristine PDA from his pocket, entering some commands into the thing before whistling loudly.

"The boys will get right on it, they cut fast with the SCVs we got recently. Your ride will be ready in oh...." the man paused, looking to the sky. "Twenty, thirty minutes. Depends what model of wraith we get, the ones from before the brood war have very funny cables, a bitch to cut."

The man scratched his elbow thoughtfully, before standing up and turning the PDA around after entering a few more inputs. "While they work though, we'll need you to cough up the credits." He looked to Maya to join the Lieutenant as he started entering the payment for the duo's new vessel.

ꇙ ꒤ ꋊ ꋪ ꒤ ꋊ ꋊ ꏂ ꋪ ꇙ

C a n y o n
E v e n i n g

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The Knight really didn’t have a great many things to do. Considering the route they were going to take his horse would not be debilitated by the inability to go up and so it was clear he would ride vanguard rather than staying on the schooner with the bug and the Dwarf. August made sure that Bobby was well fed, watered, and clean, and then rode out to the rendezvous. Waiting for the rest of the party he finished the meal from the tavern, before moving on to prayer for the rest of the time that he was waiting. Though for many two hours would be far too much time with no activity, August found he rather enjoyed the short break. It let him once more clear his mind and find some peace between the bouts of violence that more or less defined a Paladin’s life. Just like that, the time passed very handily for August with much introspection done, the time both feeling as if slowed down for more work to be done and yet also having passed so comfortably fast. It took him a moment to snap out of his daydreaming as one by one the Sunrunners showed up with their boga, and he made sure to acknowledge them with but the slightest movement of the neck that could pass for a solemn nod.

Keeping quiet while Hawke did a quick check before the group left, he once more only nodded to affirm that he and his mount were good to go. Seeing the fellow wrap his face up, August was reminded to do likewise and a few moments later wrapped an orle around his helmet just above the horns, letting the long white cloth flutter in the wind.

The ride was calm and restful, almost surprisingly so; were Sunrunners really needed for this? Of course August wouldn’t complain that he could have a relaxing journey, but at the same time his fate was in the way of the blade, and to deny it was almost a bad omen; fate punished those that didn’t obey, and all who fought against it were hopeless rebels. Removing his sword from its sheathe, August looked at the thing thoughtfully. To pass the time he considered maintaining it, but the thing was already razor sharp, well oiled, and with nowt in the way of blemishes. It shined even, quiet beautifully so even if the reflectiveness of the weapon was at time a hazard given it alerted people quite far away to his presence. But that was why he kept it in the scabbard upon his belt, and so it went back to from where it came.

All of this thinking was quite quickly interrupted however when looking up it was clear a sandstorm was gathering. Lying down in a shallow trench he could dig in moments and covering his visor he knew he could weather it, but he was not alone and hence such a selfish train of thought could not be allowed to continue. It was a good thing then that a cave was spotted by Hawke, though the Dwarf’s meteorological analysis gave them only an hour or so to get to safety.

The leadership of the team ordered the group to haul the schooner to safety, but insofar as August could see this was a great risk even if the mage girl managed to divert the sandstorm for an hour or so. “No time.” August announced, looking back and forth between the cave and the sandstorm. “We ought to leave the schooner here, secure it in place with harpoons and anchor. Any potential raiders will have to likewise seek shelter, so we have no fear of somebody robbing the vessel while we wait out the storm. I say we simply get the crew on our mounts and carry them as fast as possible to the cave, not risk any lives and resources unnecessarily.” Of course, it was only a suggestion and August would follow any orders to contrary to anything short of his own death.

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<sup>H e a l t h :
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
100%

E f f e c t s :
None (?)

W i t h :
Sunrunner party

N o t e s :
None</sup>

Ember Grove - Reboot

Hehe! ihr Nicker!
Wie seid ihr niedlich, neidliches Volk!
Aus Nibelheims Nacht naht' ich mich gern,
Neigtet ihr euch zu mir!

Das Rheingold in all its beauty, the German words echoing to a simpler if in many ways a far more vile time. While many prefer to have some sort of fast, hard hitting tunes while exercising, Valentin Florescu preferred something to calm his mind while his body was so excited. It let the man use his time better, going through all the things he had to think about and hopefully find solutions to the many problems he had. Truly, the smith machine was a wonderful purchase.

There was the little issue of the guest though. He kept thrashing, and even with the noise-cancelling headphones the rattle of the chains was quite a nuisance. The man sighed, wiping the sweat off of his brow and taking several swigs from his waterbottle. Well, might as well deal with the bastard know Valenting reasoned. Walking over to the side of the basement wherein everything was covered in plastic sheets he removed the blindfold from the fellow restrained against the table. The hunter smiled, giving a very friendly wave that belied the man’s intentions. “Hello!” he said, opening a case the contents of which the victim would most certainly be unable to see. “Now there is a slight chance you will right away tell me what I want to know for fear of what I’m going to do to you, but usually the arrogance of your kind prevents that. However even if you would willingly reveal all I need you are still a thing. Not an animal, no. You are akin to them, but with the one distinction that whereas animals are simply elements of nature acting upon instincts, you are evil. Thus, a simple death would be too simple for you, you deserve to suffer. Though you can suffer less by cooperating with me, your death will not be painless. Now, why do I tell you this? Well, I want to see the fear. I like seeing it in fact. The little twinkle of your brain trying to find a way to escape, and knowing there is none; only writhing agony awaits. I want to see the same thing you saw on your many victims, I want to be a witness to justice being done.”

Picking up a saw Valentin tested one of its teeth to make sure it was sufficiently sharp, and another to make sure it was painfully dull. Flourishing the tool, the hunter finished his monologue. “Shall we?”

---

It was a very long shower, but he had to make absolute sure there would not be even the slightest bit of the smell of blood upon him. He’d have to dispose of the bits of the dead creature he couldn’t sell later, he thought, remembering he had to go to that art thing now and meet with the Macedonian. Ah, well, what was a janitor good for if not cleaning up? Wrapping up the mess, he put it along with the other things he’d be carrying to his car. There would most likely be a missing persons report for the bugger on the table, and if so soon after yet another beast went missing so soon after there’d be eyebrows raised. Perhaps different knife work would have to be done, blame it on wild animals like all the werewolf attacks in the woods were. The work of a hunter couldn’t be delayed, for if it was then that meant there was a threat to innocent people not removed — a thing Valentin could not stand.

Dressing very simply in a brown tweed suit and pants with only a black silk ascot and handkerchief as flourishes he filled his SUV with the tools of both his trades, before closing it and riding on to the university. Looking at his watch it was time for his snack, and so with a thermos of tea, a simple sandwich and a little Liszt on the radio he enjoyed the ride to the university… even if he knew he’d very soon be surrounded by many pretentious pricks and the people that orbited them.

---

Stepping out of the car he looked more like hired muscle guarding some ethnocentric gang’s leader than a University Professor, but it was what it was. But it was what it was, and walking in the Romanian found himself surrounded by exactly what he expected. Pierced faces, hair dyed unnatural colours, tattoos signalling either somebody had daddy issues or desperately wished that they did. The guy hosting the event seemed classy enough, but what classy entailed was different across time and culture and hence this new cohort of sycophants. Still, anyone who was able to reach a point of hosting such exhibits of their own resources was clearly doing something right, and so he couldn’t really say anything bad of the Drake fellow, in fact he could only applaud him for being to stand the company his work attracted. They were interesting paintings, decent work. He doubted they’d enter the annals of history, for they were too… well, they were trying to hint rather than express. but if you were only doing art for the sake of fame then you were a person the Professor would like to punch the teeth out of.

Metaphors for the man ranged from teddy bear to a quite literal grizzly as he appeared quietly, towering from behind a duo of his students, his shadow giving him away to the couple. He ignored whatever greeting they stuttered out, smiling to them. “Well I am glad to see you! I take it your papers are going very well then, if you have time to go to these big art exhibits yes? Well, clearly then I have given you more than enough time for it, I will make sure to mark accordingly.” Whenever he found any of his students Valentin made sure to follow the same routine, thinning the flock of the younger folk present. Nevertheless Valentin tried his best to make sure the Drake fellow along with the other organizers of the event wouldn’t see what he was doing; it was after all, arguably somewhat rude. If the host would lock eyes with Valentin, then he’d raise his tea thermos in cheers feigning ignorance to any slight incurred and walk over to converse, but he hoped to avoid that for now. There were two important goals the Hunter had in mind for now; discerning who here was his quarry yet unmarked, and finding his acquaintance from the opposite side of the Balkans.

Heroes of Might and Magic: Defying the Gravekeep

Breathing. The sense of breathing would be the first thing to return to young Brandon, and soon all the senses related to it. The air was humid, or on second thought smokey would be a better description; clearly something was burning. As the sense of smell returned the nobleman would get the feeling that much of what was in the air was incense, but many fouler smells yet indistinguishable would also fill his nostrils. The lad was lying on some sort of steps, the cold and somewhat wet stone digging into his skin. A ghastly susurration would fill his ears and upon opening his eyes it would seem to be coming from the smoke about him. Coils of it would form shapes that in the first moments of consciousness would easily be mistaken for faces or skulls both proper and mutilated, malformed. It was a crypt of some sort, a great many steps leading to a rectangular block of stone that may have been a platform for embalming, or perhaps a coffin, or maybe an altar of some sort. Regardless of what it was, a trail of sickly black blood along the steps leading to the Unicorn would be simply evidence that he had fallen and rolled off of it.

Through a strange green lens Brandon now had it would be easy to see the room was poorly lit by the few candles in it, the globs of filthy wax appearing to only accent the darkness rather than provide light. The thing that really allowed him to see was a flame spreading across many books and corpses in the building, the fire yet too small to reach the banners across the walls. It was slow, the occasional fiery bursts of corpses' gases or fats not doing enough to counteract the cold and wetness of rot and blood. The stench was terrible, worse than anything the Lordling would have previously dealt with and yet somehow bearable. If he chose to stand up rather than rest the many pains he would sense across his body, it would be clear that all witnessed to this moment was more or less the full extent of the building. The only new thing revealed would be the exit, a very long thing from which some helping light both natural and not would come. If he paid attention, the noble would hear voices and the clank of plate armour coming from there (albeit getting further and further away).

Though the fire was spreading slowly - almost leisurely in fact - there was an ever so slight sense of urgency given by a rumble from below. It didn't signal that the structure was going to collapse soon, but rather that there would soon be bigger rumbles that would signal this. As the lad would now have to choose what he would do next, memories would start to flutter into his mind.

Heroes of Might and Magic: Defying the Gravekeep

After the fourth Eclipse peace reigned on Ashan the world was different. The change in era might lead one to believe that a peace of sorts of acheieved, but it was only a different kind of violence. Skeins of fate are tugged threatening to unravel the whole loom. A great burden falls upon the shoulders of a young nobleman fallen long before his due, his new life within death given purpose by both his fractured memories and a strange, spectral advisor. But neither of these truly let the boy know of the great fiend he must slay for the sake of all Ashan; luckily for the peoples of the world, the universe will force him down this path regardless.

Heroes of Might and Magic: Defying the Gravekeep

Placeholder for me and @Typical

Andy's hunt for kin-spirit dreggs

StarCraft: New Beginning

The local fellow was leading them deeper and deeper into the scrapyard, and every so often Paul had to make sure to mark where they had gone on his HUD because quite frankly he was getting very, very lost. He was just glad for his mask and helmet, otherwise he'd be disoriented to all hell and probably would just fall and give up without guidance. Really, he wondered how all these junker people hadn't yet dropped dead from all the nastiness of the area; smoke and smog, debris, crime.

Looking to Maya, the junker shrugged. "Depends, depends, depends. Cutting the cloaking unit from the wraith is just a few credits nothing hard. Installing it on a destroyer though? Now that's tricky business. For example we could make it simply cover the active decks, and if you seal and deactivate all other parts of the vessel to remove their signature it'll work perfectly against most standard scanners outside of the heavy duty buggers on science vessels and such, but the parts of the ship not covered are going to be still technically visible to the naked eye. Of course with the zerg not a big deal any more you don't have to worry much about visual report, but its still a bit of a threat." The fellow turned into a junction of several gutted ships.

"You can also have the cloaking field cover your whole vessel, that'll be mighty expensive of course depending on exactly how big of a destroyer you pick." to demonstrate, he pointed out two of said vessels side by side: one was very small, little more than an engine, a single laser battery, a cargo bay and a command deck with all the other parts of the ship cut off. Beside it was almost a pristine ship covered in all sorts of different armaments, with many cargo holds, reinforced plating, scanners, and many more accessories & upgrades. "But regardless of how big, there's a problem with powering the whole surface area. A wraith's cloaking system is designed for something the size and shape of a wraith. To cloak a whole ship that isn't a wraith will mean you exhaust it very fast if you do it completely. You can try to save some energy but that will incur the risk of little flickers in the cloak. Statistically improbable and all that, but you won't be happy when it happens."

Sitting down on a pile off rubbish the junker crossed his arms. "Of course, you can chop out the cloak module from a dozen wraiths and then be sure any ship is wholly cloaked, although then comes the problem that at a certain point of a ship's size cloaking is useless, they can see the shimmer of the field. With a destroyer you won't run into that, but anything bigger and you certainly will."

It was a long monologue, but the local bastard sold each option very enticingly. "I think just having one to apply to the command deck and engines will work, all other systems can be sealed and shut off if we don't want to be detected. Stealth is better used to avoid fights than to win them."