Tank O The Lake

Myriad Reality

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Thats kinda funny, honestly, same spelling and everything?

@TruckKun

Oliver Pierce. A mechanist and general adventurer with a sort of sci-fi pulp hero aesthetic.

Myriad Reality

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I was thinking they'd meet Hal. Given that Hal (and the Varroi under his command) have a vested interest in denying the data to Lucy, then I could see them bringing Marius to Cooperative Earth to assault the blacksite themselves and destroy the data.

@Tank O The Lake

It is worth noting that Varroi worship Aven, who they teach is Lucy's son who overthrew the tyrannical god that was his father to become a benevolent god himself, combining the virtues of man and divine in perfect synthesis. Lucy is basically their version of the Devil, so they very much want to throw a wrench in his plans.

Myriad Reality

@DarkwolfX37
How is this for my char?
Ollie Peirce




Ollie Peirce can control, manipulate, and create shadows. He can create and control up to 5 different constructs simultaneously, without a reduction in reaction speed and such. He can also create spikes and other simple things, in addition to the constructs without reducing his abilities. He can enter and travel between shadows. He is faster and stringer than a base human, he can also enhance his abilities with shadows. He can climb sheer walls, and ceilings. He has really acute hearing and very fast reaction speed

@TruckKun

That's cool. I happen to also have an OC with the exact same name.

Myriad Reality

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G-force is something we're both more than ready to handle. It should be fine.

@Legend

- These suborbital jets hit you pretty hard on ascent. Just... be aware of that.

*It's not hard to get into the terminal, and after a few letters stuffed with bills handed to the security personnel, they're through the baggage checks and screenings.*

- How's first class sound? Lucy's loaded, you know.

Myriad Reality

Sorry about that

@darkred

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No worries. @Tank o The Lake did you want to rope darkred into the current events or do you want me to take their char in a different direction?

@Etcetera

I was thinking they'd meet Hal. Given that Hal (and the Varroi under his command) have a vested interest in denying the data to Lucy, then I could see them bringing Marius to Cooperative Earth to assault the blacksite themselves and destroy the data.

Myriad Reality

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Chance happenstance while we were enjoying a cold winter day. I could tell he wasn't an ordinary tourist.

@Etcetera

- I don't think he does anything without good reason. He probably knew you were out and about and you could do this sorta work.

*The walk to the spaceport isn't particularly long, and it's rather easy to tell where it is, as a slim, arrowhead-shaped aircraft glides overhead with a dull roar from its direction. It pitches up and glides away with a rising trill as its engines throttle up before finally punching through the endless clouds with a distant sonic boom.*

- C'mon. We got a flight to catch. None of you have issues with high G-forces on ascent, do you?

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex (Military, Modern, Fantasy, Action-Thriller)

Day 2: 06:19:51
Polavian Standard Vodka Distillery,
Novy Jork,
Capital Province,
Republic of Polavia

Shite. Shite. His cover’s blown.

Well, blown’s relative. They’ll still have some trouble.

“Feck it all,” grumbles Upswing, pulling back his rifle and shrugging it back to his shoulder, “don’t get paid enough for this.”

He makes a rather crude-looking hand gesture and makes a point out of his mind. In a hissing burst of light, about a dozen illusory tripwires spring into existence over the door leading in, in the hallway outside, on the staircase leading up to this floor. It won’t be much help once they realize they aren’t real, but that’s why one of the wires over the door–and the hand grenade it’s attached to–very much is. Standing, he turns and bellows in the most Scottish accent known to man, “OI! ‘YE DIDNAE CATCH ME AND ‘YE NEVER WILL, ‘YE PINKO CUNTS!”

Before the Polavians can give their own impressive selection of profanities back, Upswing’s already pitched himself out the window, catching himself on the sill with his hands before he can fall. He looks down; too high to jump, not high enough to risk climbing down the safe way and getting caught. He used to be afraid of heights, you know, but jumping out of a C-130 gets you quite used to taking a risk.

And a risk he sees. A balcony on the second floor, one down, about a five-foot horizontal jump. It leaves him with a choice; either go for the balcony and risk snapping himself in half on the railing if he under- or overshoots, or drop twenty or thirty feet and almost certainly break a leg.

Well, what’s life without leaps of faith? Upswing, with a heavy grunt, swings himself to the side hard and pushes off, landing flat on his ass smack in the center of the balcony. “Ah, fookin’ A,” he groans, standing and rubbing his tailbone. “Look what ‘ye made me do.”

“Let me see your hands!” comes a voice from inside. Upswing lets out a mother of all sighs and turns, hands raising, to find himself face-to-face with a kid in PSA uniform, shaking hands holding a shaking Kalashnikov. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen; shame, damn shame.

“‘Ye don’t have tae be here, ‘ye know,” says Upswing, “‘ye can leave. Wouldn’t blame ‘ye.”

“Don’t talk!” says the kid, muscling open the door to almost jab the rifle’s muzzle into Upswing’s chest.

“That’s how it’s gonna be, then,” Upswing says, shaking his head a little, “‘ye’re too close.”

Maybe the kid might’ve had something to say to that, but he doesn’t get the chance before Upswing slaps the gun out of his hand, sending it flying off the balcony. Before the kid can do anything but scream, Upswing’s already grabbed his pistol. There’s a short, sharp clicking noise, and a smoking casing hits the floor while the kid falls back, a smoking hole right between his eyes. “Mum’s worried about ‘ye,” says Upswing, holstering his gun and starting to climb down yet further, “shoulda stayed home.”

From the second floor, it’s trivial to drop down and start running, and Upswing’s already gone into the bushes by the time the deafening blast of a triggered grenade rings out over the landscape from the apartment. In the brush, Upswing’s armor fades into it like a chameleon, and he slips away undetected, moving as quickly and quietly as he can towards the bottler.

Ptick, ptick. Ptick. Ptick, ptick, ptick.

The few men still manning the perimeter near Upswing’s point of entry fall with quiet, rattling whimpers, as he drops the muzzle of his AS-Val. Judging by how the inside of the factory sounds like Stalingrad, there’s a good reason the patrols aren’t too numerous right now. Knife in hand, he rifles through the bodies, putting those simply mortally wounded out of their misery while he grabs their spare ammo, taking an AK for his trouble; no point being particularly stealthy. While he’s digging around, a loud, stuttering report of gunfire breaks through the factory wall behind him, and he drops to the floor with a loud curse, the contents of which would be inappropriate for written reproduction. Belly-crawling, he moves closer to the gunfire, hoping to rendezvous with Morgana and reasoning that she’s probably wherever they’re trying to shoot. Once he comes up to a side door that seems close to, but not in the middle of the fighting, he reaches for his gas mask and puts it on while he reaches for one of the pink-striped smoke grenades on his belt.

“This better be fookin’ worth it,” he says to himself, shaking his head as he racks the bolt on the Kalashnikov, and then he reaches over and smashes the handle off the door with the butt of the rifle, knocking it open and tossing in the grenade. There’s a pop, and as oozing, pinkish-purple smoke creeps out, Upswing bursts in, firing at anything and everything that moves.

Myriad Reality

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*Both of us stand up and collect our few possessions on-hand*
I presume you'll be our guide from here forth?

@Etcetera

- Indeed. Lucy's got work and my coworkers got their own assignments; it's just you and me.

*She leads you off the train and out of the station; in comparison to Union, this place is simultaneously more and less alive. There are fewer people out at this time, but they seem a little friendlier, a little less closed off.*

- How'd you meet the boss, huh? He's not very conventional recruiting his workers.

Myriad Reality

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Our priorities happened to align, so you could call it more self-interest than compassion.

@Etcetera

*Naomi chuckles.*

- Shouldn't have asked. That's just par for the course when you work for the man.

*Suddenly, the train lurches forward as it begins its slow deceleration into Charleston.*

- We're here. Tuck and roll; we'll need to get into the spaceport ASAP.

Myriad Reality

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Then I don't imagine we're the first recruits you've seen.

@Legend

- No, you're not. He gets outside contractors to do jobs like these every once in a while.

*She leans back, cocking her head.*

- Say, what's Lucy paying you? You doing this outta the goodness of your hearts?