Avatar of Polyphemus
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  • Old Guild Username: Vulture
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
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    1. Polyphemus 12 yrs ago

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"Hirsch is primarily a medical supplier," Farquharson answered. "Iron lungs, custom-made wheelchairs, hyperbaric chambers, the like. A great deal of that equipment in Germany was either lost in bombings or dragged back to Russia. They accept other work, of course, but that is their specialty." Farquharson shrugged. "That's as much as I know, I'm afraid."

"It has become clear to me," Stavrou said delicately, "that we have acheived about as much as we can here in London. We cannot hope to do any sort of planning without first doing reconnaissance and surveillance." He sighed. "We will need to travel to Essen, the belly of the beast. We will have to see his home, his office, his places of leisure. See about his employees, family, the police in the area. I imagine he may have friends in Bonn, so we must be careful." Stavrou looked at the woman and the other man- American, was he? "Perhaps you two could pose as potential investors or customers, get inside the factory to have a look around, maybe even meet the man himself. You can have false papers drawn up, yes?" he asked Farquharson, receiving a quick nod in response. "Only once we've carefully surveyed and figured out when and where he is weakest will we obtain our weapons and do the deed. At least, this is how I would recommend." He gave a quick nod and smile around the group. "Konstantinos Stavrou, by the way. I was a lieutenant, but do not worry about that. We're all civilians now."

Farquharson coughed once again, politely, setting a cardboard folder down on the table. "First-class to Essen. Your flight leaves at ten tomorrow. I imagine you'll want a wee bit of rest first. Any further questions for me?"
So are there any yachters left? Or should I just give that up and go to the asylum instead?
"Okay, Cara, we're real impressed," Nate said, his head still swimming. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was just the lighting and general oddness of this place. "I gotta admit, building this funhouse in your basement must've taken some work. And I'm honestly at a loss where you were hiding the makeup, hair curler, pushup bra, and creepy little dress, because you look a hell of a lot different now. You got us reeeeal good. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back upstairs and back to the party." He tried to sound casual, but it was taking a great deal of effort on his part.
Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

Even the normal bedrock of spacial continuity seemed to have been robbed from them. Nate tried to reach out a hand against a nearby wall to steady himself, only to discover it was actually about a quarter mile away, or maybe six inches, or maybe twenty feet. There wasn't any real way to be sure. "Guys?" he said tentatively, groggily making his way back to the group. "Everyone okay? And what the actual fuck is this place? I really don't think we're in the basement anymore."
I'm in Central.
That jerk.
Nate followed hot on the other's heels, then wasted a valuable second staring at the otherworldly tendrils of light and blinking dumbly. "What is it?"

Isaac's shout snapped him back to reality, and he raced forward, squeezing his slender frame around the others and wrapping his arms around Clary's waist. He cringed as an exploratory tendril of light came a little too close for comfort, then braced himself for the tug of war. "We need to coordinate!" he gasped out. "Everybody, back on three!"

"One!" Sweat poured down his forehead, even straining he could feel Clary being pulled forwards, towards the mass of light.

"Two!" What even was it? It seemed only to be light, but it clearly had a form, not inconsiderable physical strength. Was it some kind of animal?

"Three!"
Anyone's welcome to post at any time, there's no set posting order.
You got it!
I think it's only fair to them to put their characters on standby. I've been in too many RPs where the GM just up and kills off characters after a couple days.
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