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Voting closed: July 28, 2013, 09:40:58 pm

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, M1911, 14 .45 Super (4 loaded), Pecheneg, 195 7.62×54mmR 7BZ-3 rounds (Loaded)
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

[Craaaap. I swore I posted a reply to that, but then remembered that I didn't but only remembered today because I forgot to unmark it being read.]

*Shrugs*. I knew what you where going to do, and couldn't have done anything about it until the weekend anyway.

--------------------------------------------

The man doesn't move to your reply. He simply stands in place, chanting "Help me" frailly. He must be in worse shape than you thought. You put your gun down and take a hold of his bony wrist in one hand, feeling the damp cold sweat on him. You reach over the abyss and grab onto his armpit with your other hand, and prepare to pull up. You put all of your massive strength into a single tug, as if you were preparing to tear down another wall. The man flies up to face level in a single tug, with only a little resistance from his wait. Even in this state, you thought he would way at least twice as much...

The man now looks you in the face, his eyes stuck in a thousand yard stair, looking through you as if you where not there. "Help me" was released from him once again, even weaker then the last. His lips do not appear to move, the words simply being released from his body.

Suddenly, the cold, damp hands grab onto you, as fast as lightning. His bloody hand wrapped itself around your neck in an instant, freezing your entire neck, a sensation that seems to flow with the rest of your body. The only part that has any warmth left is the the coin size Agimat, which burns your skin painfully. "Help me" the creature in front of you repeated, as his other hand grabs your gun. His eyes begin to roll to the back of his head as its hand scratches against your neck, the frostbite like effect slowly leaving. The heat of your agimat was removed as well, as the man floats in front of you, your hands apparently unable to release themselves from the monster. "Help me!" it repeats one final time in a whisper as the agimat is held in front of your face. Suddenly, it begins to rot, turning into a black fungus within seconds and vanishing. You get a final look at the man, and only now do you notice. His lower half, the half you could not see in the hole, didn't exist. He was simply an upper torso, blood dripping on your shoes from the exposed organs of the corpse you had lifted. As its final act, it embraced you in a kind of hug. Your muscles, already frozen, are now held down by the bony mass in front of you. Its head moves from its state in front of you, going next to your head, in the side of your vision. A familiar laugh returns to your head. Ezekiel's insane laugh. The corpse begins to vanish in a similar manner as your agimat did, its back transforming into a forest of fungus and disappearing.

If that wasn't bad enough, your senses were suddenly assaulted as well. As if you had been hit with a flash bomb, your vision and hearing leave you. Your world becomes white, your ears filled with a ringing noise. Your balance is destroyed. Your head spins, your organs jump around inside of you. Suddenly, you hit the ground, the frozen wait still on top of you, holding you in this new position.

What do you try to do now?

[Xanmyral]

Alec mentally cursed, it would be verbal if he could, at himself as he inspects his current predicament. No Agimat, frozen like this on the floor. He had to move, say something, do something! If he doesn't, something will probably find him and kill him, no doubt in this place. Come on, move! Move! The man tried to focus on moving even just a small part of himself, trying his hardest to push aside his messed up senses, the ringing and flashing that assaults his ears and eyes, with the only clear thing in his mind being the laughing right now. That damned laughing.

Focus! Don't get distracted! Still, in the back of his mind his thoughts were being sent in a tailspin downwards at this screw up in such a dangerous place. Fear, stress, anger and shame at himself, all surging back in his mind. Something to focus on... The man tried to move his arm towards his belt, where he kept his lighter, thinking of the fire.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, M1911, 14 .45 Super (4 loaded), Pecheneg, 195 7.62×54mmR 7BZ-3 rounds (Loaded)
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

You focus as hard as you can. You try to move your frozen cold hand, if just a little. It was just like that time...with the mummy thing in that graveyard. So fire should work here, right? You struggle. You put all your effort into your finger, moving it slightly. A little warmth comes to your hand, you are suddenly able to move your whole hand. The uneasiness in your organs increases with the moment, but you are able to move. You whole arm begins to move with some difficulty, but you make it to your lighter!

The laughing continues, a little more sane now. "This. This is why I had brought you here, my son. I felt you had upgraded your weapons. But not your true weapons. Firearms, bullets, explosives...you have never had your faith in them. Your true weapons are your muscles, your determination, your hammer. Your...strength" Ezekiel states in your head as you act, his voice full of praise and admiration. "These should be upgraded as well, should they not?"

Your head finally starts to clear, your hand on the lighter. The world in front of you begins to appear, though it is still fuzzy. You are surrounded by darkness. It looks like you had been pulled into the abyss. Your eyes begin to adjust, you see the motionless corpse staring down at you still, though its coldness is now gone. You throw it off, now only black fungus, and look into the darkness around you. You see two figures ahead of you, vaguely, in the darkness.

What do you do now?

[Xanmyral]

Alec honestly couldn't get Ezekiel. One moment he gets his agimat forcibly removed because of him, frozen from a corpse while he laughs insanely in his head, the next he converses with him like normal. He did mention tests to come... Why him though, is what Alec wonders. 'Brought him here?' The large man was wary, but to say the offer didn't draw his attention a bit would be a lie, although he tried to hide it. Well, not really considering Alec thinks Ezekiel can probably read what he's thinking so he's not sure there is much he can do to hide from that, or is at least aware of what is going on around Alec.

Either way, there's two figures up ahead. Several thoughts went through his head, some being that maybe they're Rikki and David, others being that they're robots about to mutilate him. Alec keeps his hand on his lighter as he tries to focus on the figures, seeing if he can make anything more out of them, or at least hear if they're screaming or anything really. His other hand reaches for his pistol, and he tries to stay quiet.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, M1911, 14 .45 Super (4 loaded), Pecheneg, 195 7.62×54mmR 7BZ-3 rounds (Loaded)
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

"Hello Alec, I am glad you could join us. It is wonderful that I am able to welcome you to the team!" A young woman's voice happily greats you as your eyes adjust. You can see the figures steadily more clearly. To your right, there was a young woman, dressed in white. A white sun dress below a large, white sunhat, which covers the pure white hair. This pure white outfit gives her a kind of glow in the dark, though not a friendly one. A kind of threatening glow, like the eyes of the skeletons in the graveyard. "I'm Luna, and this is Sol!" she continues, a smile etched in her pale skin. The only thing with any color on her was her eyes, which were blood read. The figure next to you was harder to see, almost invisible in comparison. He was leaning on a piece of concrete casually, staring at you. Well, you suppose he is staring at you. He is wearing a gas mask. Two round eyes above a filter, giving him an inhuman appearance close to that of his associate. The rest of his body was covered with a trench coat, nearly black, causing him to almost melt into the background. The only trait you could clearly pick out was a large wooden cross hanging from his neck. "Umph" he states, threateningly. The meaning was clear, don't go for your gun, or I will kill you.

"I'm afraid he isn't ready to join yet, my daughter." The voice in your head responds. Luna's smile turns into a look of confusion, joined by her tilting her head to the side. "We are simply here to make a deal."

"Samson was a Nazirite, a man who had given up several things in life in order to be closer to god. He had promised to never shave his hair, though he had his hair forcibly taken from him. The LORD had retaken the strength that the LORD had given him. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. The story continues before and after that, but this is what is important for our little discussion. I have, under the guidance of the LORD, created the salve of Sampson and the hair of Sampson, as you are familiar with. I had given these gifts to a small group of believers, as you are also familiar with. But you are not familiar with the true Samson. The salve I had given to the group was to protect themselves from their fellow townspeople. For they had followed my gospel, I had given the salve as a gift to protect them. To put it another way, it was like a shotgun I had given them to protect themselves. You had sampled this before. But as Samson is powerless without his hair, the salve is impotent without the pelt." Ezekiel states. The two figures watching the conversation pull out objects from a location you hadn't notice. Luna holds a pack of cigarets, about the size of the ones you are carrying right now. Sol is holding a large belt, made of fur, and presenting it to you. "Your...exploits had inspired me. Once I had seen you, my son, use the salve in such a way, I had designed a new salve just for you. I have created this, the True Sampson, just for you my son. I don't want to pressure you at all. But I would like to make a deal with you, my son. Would you like to hear me out?"

---------------

Psh, got distracted several times writing the last thing. Messed up the flow worse then usual. Oh well.

[Xanmyral]

Alec watched the two closely, confused. When the man indicated to not go for his gun, Alec complied hesitantly. They hear his voice too? With a deep breathe, the large man tried to bring himself too his feet, and from there up to his full height. ...What? The salve doesn't work without the hair? But... It worked on Alec, did it not? And that spider thing? The werewolves were protecting themselves? What about the missing people? Alec felt his ear, seeing if the comm unit was still there and on. How long was he like previous, frozen to that corpse? Did the others call for him, or did not enough time pass for them to know? Question after question swarmed in the man's head.

"...I"ll listen. I have questions of my own..."

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, M1911, 14 .45 Super (4 loaded), Pecheneg, 195 7.62×54mmR 7BZ-3 rounds (Loaded)
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

You manage to get up, with no response from the people watching at you. "Magnificent! I will answer any question you have within logical limits." Ezekiel responded, his voice ecstatic. "You see my son, I have found something important. The LORD, in all his infinite glory and wisdom, has given me a vision. With the guidance and help of the LORD I have found the location of the Tower of Babble..." he continues, stopping for a brief spurt of happy laughter. "The tower will show itself in time. This tower is incredibly important for the LORD, for humanity, and for me. I seek something in this tower. But I can not face this tower alone, as the LORD had commanded me. The LORD ordered me to find a holy team, a group of paladins strong enough to take the prize of the tower for myself and for GOD. You, my son, would be a perfect member of this most holy group. I have utter faith that you will pass the tests to come with little difficulty."

You look at the reactions of the other people as Ezekiel goes into another fit of happy giggling. They don't seem to be listening, Sol is still lying down on the slab and Luna had walked back and sat down on a separate slab, using it as a chair. It looks like your conversation is a private one.

"So I had created the items of Sampson specifically for you, my son. I had listened to your complaints about them and made them to your specifications. The salve you are familiar with was replaced by cigarets, indistinguishable from mundane ones. After all, you had hidden the salve in a pack, I had assumed this and the new belt would allow you, my son, to use them without being discovered. The belt and the smoke alone shalt not cause a transformation alone, but together they will transform you into what you called the 'werewolf'. This will multiply your strength by a hundred. I will grant this to you, if you will do a simply thing for me.

I want you to consider joining. You don't have to join. All I want is for you to truly consider joining my team."

What do you do now?

[Xanmyral]

Alec was silent as he thought. Tower of Babble... Wasn't that smote down? Or was it just left unfinished...? It has been a while, Alec can't quite remember. But it has been found? Ezekiel needs his help, a group of paladins... The man didn't know what to make of all of this. The items, and the items yes, they sound... Tempting. He thought back to when he had the salve, he was so brave, so strong, but he also acted impulsively, stupidly. He helped out his team, a lot of people, but if he had acted smarter, a lot of trouble would of been averted that he had caused. Strength comes with responsibility, and he had acted irresponsible with his strength, but if he was given another chance... The man feels that he would be able to use it better than he had before.

Alec doesn't know what to think of Ezekiel, the lich, the prophet, the necromancer, whatever title he goes by. He proclaims himself the right hand of God, trying to help humanity, but others call him a demon, killing and harming those around him. He claims he was helping, others claim that he was hurting, but Alec does know what he saw. The werewolves were consumed with anger, people having gone missing, but were those missing those who attacked them? The undead, Alec isn't actually sure if the undead had attacked anyone actually. He doesn't believe it was ever said, just that there was a lot of them and to get rid of them. But the dead should rest, not be driven to arise again, Alec remembers well the look of the wight when it died. The spiders were arguably the most damaging to those around them, but they had nothing to do with Ezekiel that he could tell.

The man had a lot of questions, and isn't really sure of much of what is true or not... "I'll... Consider. ...Tell me though, what is this place?" Alec was afraid of what he might hear.

[I need to reread a lot of this when I get the chance, some parts are getting fuzzy on me.]

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, M1911, 14 .45 Super (4 loaded), Pecheneg, 195 7.62×54mmR 7BZ-3 rounds (Loaded)
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

[I need to reread a lot of this when I get the chance, some parts are getting fuzzy on me.]

So do I. Its been like six months in real life, and only like three weeks in game.
--------------

"Wonderful." The voice says. You can't help but think Ezekiel is smiling right now, his voice seems to be covered in happiness. "You are several feet away from your starting point. Something created a large hole here, before the machines had begun to rampage. It makes a nice private room for us to speak."

The two figures get back up and start walking toward you, holding out the items promised to you. "Now, my son, we must finish with the contract." Ezekiel states, his voice filled with anticipation. "Simply say 'I, Alec Rowe, vow on my soul to obey the contract that has been brought before me."

What do you do now?

[Xanmyral]

Alec was a little put off from the answer, it wasn't exactly what he was expecting. He rather meant what this whole facility was, not where he was now, hoping that Ezekiel could perhaps tell him what John would not. But that paled to what was currently going on, namely the contract. This was... Much more formal, and Alec is certain much more binding, than what he was expecting. The contract was just the items for consideration though, he doesn't have to join, just honestly give it some thought. Either way, the large man was silent for a while before finally speaking. However, Alec being who he is, condensed it to something less wordy, that would be more natural with his usual speaking habits, without really putting much thought into it. "I vow to obey the contract that has been presented."

[I never thought being constrained to ten words would actually prove beneficial, hahaha. Wonder how Ezekiel will take the subconscious chopping of 'fluff,' probably not well I'm guessing.]

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, M1911, 14 .45 Super (4 loaded), Pecheneg, 195 7.62×54mmR 7BZ-3 rounds (Loaded), Lupine cigarets, Wolf belt
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

[I never thought being constrained to ten words would actually prove beneficial, hahaha. Wonder how Ezekiel will take the subconscious chopping of 'fluff,' probably not well I'm guessing.]

Ah, we will have to see how things turn out. No spoilers.

Alec does have an interesting mindset, though. "Friend asking what happened when I was possessed? One way mirror! Guy offering me weapons? He came right for me, it must be a trap! Man yelling for help creepily? Enemy offering me power in exchange for something? Seems legit."

Sometimes, it seems he trusts his enemies more then his allies.

-------------

"That will do. The contract has been set." The voice in your head states, as your mind begins to go through a strange sensation. If you could put words to it, you would say it feels like your essence is involved in a handshake. You feel connected to the contract, like it was something you had sworn to uphold your hole life, a childhood friend you have never been without. "I will fulfill my end immediately. I will collect your end later, at the time of my own choosing."

The two figures waiting for your reply shove their items toward you, almost as soon as the sensation had passed. You do a quick examination of the items you had just purchased. The cigarets are in a high-quality cigaret holder, made of what looks like aluminum. It is decorated with a picture of a wolf, or a wolf's shadow. A pure black silhouette of a wolf's head, with two blank eyes looking out from the front of the holder. The words "Lupine cigarets" in white lettering was the only other noticeable thing, adorning the top of the holder. The cigarets themselves where indistinguishable from your usual brand, except they each have a blood red dot on the end. The belt was a lot smaller then you thought initially. Only one of your fingers could fit over it lengthwise, and it if you put it on, you imagine it would be a little tight. But the fur is high quality, it feels soft to the touch, like you are petting a living animal. One side is covered in the dark fur, while the other side is like leather, the same color as the fur. Neither objects would get your squad mates unneededly suspicious.

"Now, Luna, please escort him out. It was a pleasure doing business with you." Ezekiel concludes, as he finishes with a bout of laughter. "Yes, if you will please just give me a second mister Alec" the woman states as she turns around. "Mosin nagant!" she states, with her arm outstretched as if she expected to catch something. From the darkness, a wooden object flies into her hand. A broomstick? No, when she turns back around you can see it clearly. It is a gun, a somewhat old looking gun. It is about the height of the girl who summoned it, and thicker then you would expect. It was like someone took a normal gun and enlarged it. Mostly made of wood, with only a little metal visible in the chamber and at the edge of the barrel, it does give of the feeling of a broom more then a weapon. A witch with her broom.

And like a witch with her broom, she sits on it as if it were a park bench. The gun begins floating in mid air, and enlarges even more, growing a large enough spot for you to sit on. Luna takes her seat, pointing both legs in the same direction as she casually sits on the stock of the gun. She pats the newly enlarged place with her hands, offering you a seat. "I hope the seat is comfortable, mister Alec." she says simply, giving off a casually smile as you take your strange seat. As you do so, the gun quickly rises out of the darkness, like an elevator on steroids, almost causing you to fall off. Within seconds you are floating above the hole you had been dragged into, the place you were seconds before just a dark pit below you. The gun inches forward, allowing you to simply step off above solid ground. The gun then floats back quickly, the girl in white looking at you happily as she gives her goodbyes. "I hope to see you again, mister Alec. It would be lovely to have you on the team, I do hope your considerations lead you to the right path. Perhaps we can have tea some time?" she states, as she begins disappearing into the darkness slowly. Your eyes take a second to adjust to the new surroundings as the witch states a final "Oh, I apologize. I had almost forgotten.", as her hand comes out of the darkness as if it had no owner, only to make a finger pistol like gesture before fading again. Your communicator makes a weird ringing noise, such as you hear when your ears are ringing, and several sparks fly out of it. But now it seems that it is working, you can hear static over it. You find your weapons unharmed against the wall, in the state you left them in.

What do you do now?

-----------------------

Similes are going to have to go to counseling after what I did to them in that last post.

[Stirk]

Well work is over for the year until school starts, and I have some free time. And for some reason we seem to have a lot of people who left. So just for fun, I decided to write endings for some of the people who stayed longer. Feel free to ignore them.

Name:Jack Darlon

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Age:32
Equipment:Barret M82 Anti-Materiel Rifle, 5 clips of .50BMG ammo,  ( browning m1911 pistol(with 2 clips of .45 ACP), 1 clip ACP (6 ), combat knife, communicator, gillie suit
HP:12
Int:8
Str:12
Agi:10
Skills:Rifle(3), Small Arms (3)
Advantages: Special Forces Sniper. If Jack can see it, he can kill it. And thanks to his Force Recon sniper training, he can see and hit it from a long way off
Disadvantages:Emotional Distance. Jack's time in the special forces has had him sent to a variety of hellholes on the planet, and his experiences can make him sound distant and unemotional to those he doesn't know or trust, and trust is a very hard thing to come by with him.
Perks:He can drive a wide range of vehicles to get around, from your average motorcycle to a Bradly
Quirks:Lucky silver dollar. He has a dented silver dollar that saved his life once by deflecting a bullet. He never goes anywhere without it, and can actually attempt to refuse to do a mission if he doesn't have it on him
--------------

Something doesn't seem right. Maybe it is Brook's strange choice of weapon. Maybe it is the strange way the story was told. Maybe it is just your honed instinct. Whatever it is, you feel something is....off. You put it into the back of your mind for the time being, but it still bugs you. You are about to respond to Katy's question when the forests suddenly turns into a battle ground.

Dozens of the Fey come out of nowhere, as if they had been waiting this whole time. You quickly get into combat position, getting one in your sights. You quickly fire, noticing something strange about his gun....Is...is it a M134 minigun? No, absurd. You quickly fire. Apparently he wasn't expecting it, and seconds later his head evaporates in a mist of blood, his body falling to the ground. He went down a lot easier then the last ones. You quickly find the second target, another fey behind him. He also seems to not have noticed anything. Once again the feeling of something being off overcomes you as you look at the new combatant's guns. Yes, he was wielding not one, but two desert eagles. No. No. These guys can't be using such improbable guns. Were did they even get weapons? Its like they walked out of an action movie. Not just their weapons, but their tactics. No, this can't be real....


"Whats wrong? You didn't like my story, my pet?" a familiar voice greets you. You open your eyes slowly, you have a headache and feel like you are having a hang over. You look around the dark room the best you could. You are in a cage, much like the one in the what you now realize was an illusion. There was flimsy looking branches around you, some dirty leaves on the floor around you. Your hands were binded behind your back with some kind of vine. And in front of you was the fey from before, the one that had hung you upside down. "Heheheh. Did you think you could get away? Did you think you could kill me?" he laughs. His face is high above you, the only thing on him you could see. His eyes and smile are filled with a sadistic malice, beaming down on you in a sick mockery of happiness. "Your my new favorite pet. I got out some nice leaves for you and everything. Now, lets play a game......"

BAD END

Name: Johnathan Legrin

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Age: 31
Equipment:Beretta 92 (2 clips), Calvary Saber, toolbox
HP: 7
Stats:
Int: 12
Str: 7
Agi: 11
Skills:Engineer(3), small arms(2), close combat (3)
Advantages: A tinker, Johnathan knows how to make stuff, and fix stuff, and was a fencer in his spare time, getting rather good at it.
Disadvantages: He's not used to guns, and doesn't like them, in addition to often having been thoroughly traumatized in New York.
Perks: He likes hiking and being in the outdoors, and so is used to being outside.
Quirks: He has a minor case of OCD. (What exactly said obsession/compusion is will be decided when it comes around to it.)
Bio: Working as an engineer at a New York-based company, he was among the first hit by the horde. He survived by using his wits to escape the quarantine zone, but was heavily traumatized- his family survived by virtue of being on the outskirts of the city. Before the change in his life, he had been born and raised in the south, though he moved to New York for his job, where he would later meet his wife. He also picked up fencing while in college, and continued the hobby until now, at which point he's found a practical use for it.

Your allies all enter the tank, preparing to fight. However, you realize something incredibly stupid: you loaded in the wrong caliber ammunition. You not being used to guns seems to be hurting you. Really bad. How could you have made such a mistake at a time like this?

"Ill be right back! I am going to get something!" you shout as you run toward the crate containing ammunition at your full speed. You manage to make it within seconds, filling you with relief. You pick up one of the shells and check it over. Yes! It is the right caliber! Just grab a few and bring them back to the tank....

Suddenly the wall breaks down. Two massive, angry heads burst through the wall, looking streight at you. The left head arches back, snakelike, and jumps at you with he speed of a bullet. The massive mouth surrounds you, and you find your self in the dark, damp cave that is the inside of the Zemy. The walls begin to contort and vibrate, attempting to drag you down. Using your reflexes as a swordsman, you stab the shell in your hand into the side, holding on with all your might. At the force of the impact the twisting of the snakelike neck doubles, nearly destroying you as you somehow manage to hold on. But that soon ends. The air around you begins to heat up, causing your sweat of exhaustion to mix with your sweat of overheating. You know what is coming next as the surroundings become even hotter. At least your team should be safe. Maybe the incoming fire will even set off the tank shell. You feel a little solace knowing that you may have done your duty, your family should be proud. Your last thought is rather strange, coming almost in spite of yourself: It would have been nice to be able to at least see the tank you died waiting for.

DEAD END

Name: Patricia Garfien

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Age: 37
Equipment: whiskey flasks (2)
HP: 11
Stats:
Int: 9
Str: 11
Agi: 10
Skills: General Medic(3), Small Arms (3), Shotgun (2), Sub-machine gun (2)
Advantages: She has steady hands, and is very calm in high stress situations. This can be a lifesaver in the field.
Disadvantages: Territorial about her work, needs glasses/contacts(farsighted), and a functional alcoholic.
Perks: Excellent bedside manner.
Quirks: Racist. Yep. Against EVERYONE. Not to the point where she dislikes them, just the point where she believes just about every stereotype there is. Curiously enough, not religious, or homophobic, or sexist. I can change this if it might cause problems.
Bio: Patricia grew up in southern Texaz, raised by two rich white parents who fit every stereotype of rich white people there was, or almost. They did love their daughter, but they were also assholes to most people below their station. When she became a surgeon in college, they were delighted to see their little girl take up such a proud profession. When the chupacabras started striking, she managed to save her brother's life, barely, but had to run, and he was left behind. She rode a horse for hours, eventually letting the poor thing rest, where she was taken in by some kind colored people. Long story short, she ended up joining the Archangel foundation, to help keep the fighting men alive. That said, being a Texan, she's not bad with a pistol either...

"But we are mostly just here to wish you goodbye." Goldman says, with a hint of sadness. "Your wounds may seem superficial, but after coming into contact with something out of a Cathulu myths and nearly dying is usually bad for your sanity. You have been given six months leave, in witch you will be given mental treatment by Archangel psychologists near your home town. If you are feeling up to it, you can technically join again after that. We are sad to see you go..."

The rest of the team also said their simple goodbyes. "Goodbye Patricia!" the twins state in unison, "It was nice getting to know you, be sure to send letters!" Artemis states. "We will keep fighting the good fight, stay safe!" Apollo states. "Hate to admit it, but you where pretty badass. It was nice to fight next to you." Charlie states, nodding. After further goodbyes, you find yourself on a civilian boat back home. The on ship psychologists start to help you out the best they can in the time it takes you to get back home.

Once home, life gets back to about what it was before you had joined archangel. A few weeks later you get a simple ceremony, granting you honorable discharge, a purple heart, and an Archangel wing metal. Your family all shows up, all very proud of you. You get back to a civilian job, it looks like there is still a lot of people being injured by the Freaks. Life sure is different, but you manage to help in a lot of little ways, without putting yourself in to much danger for the time being. You will always remember the time spent in Archangel...

Neutral End.

[Xanmyral]

[Heheh, yeah Alec has wound up a lot different than I originally intended for him to be. He somehow wound up the most conflicted character I've played, which... Says a bit, actually, hahaha. I just hope he's entertaining to GM for at least.]

Alec watched Luna leave, before turning his attention back to the two items. Neither seemed rather subtle to the large man, but just holding the items harkened back to the strength the man once held when he used the salve. The strength, the purpose it gave him... But for now, Alec needed to check to see if the others of his team were alright. He doesn't know how much time has passed, and no doubt the other two are probably wondering about him now.

This drew another thought though, Alec's agimat is gone. Shit. Not only that, but how is he suppose to explain what he was doing? He misheard something? If they see the agimat is gone, they'll think it was the reason he left... The man sighed. Sometimes he wonders how his life might be if he thought things through a touch more. He swore that it was someone in shock, it seemed... Alec grabbed his weapons, and stashed the two items on himself, then finally reported in. "False lead, no survivor. Status?" The man didn't bother hiding his annoyance at himself for falling for that, regardless of what it led to. It was so obvious in hindsight.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Alec Rowe
Age: 27
Equipment: Sledge hammer, pack of cigarets (2), Lighter (full), flashlight, M1911, 14 .45 Super (4 loaded), Pecheneg, 195 7.62×54mmR 7BZ-3 rounds (Loaded), Lupine cigarets, Wolf belt
HP: 15
Stats
Int: 8
Str: 15
Agi: 7
Skills: Close Combat (3), Demolition (3), Heavy weapons (2)
Advantages: Determined
Disadvantages: Chain-Smoker, Stressed
Perks: Large Frame, Good Samaritan, Quiet
Quirks: Quiet, Good Samaritan, Large Frame
Bio: Alec grew up in a big city in the US. He was large by most standards, even as a kid, and its served him well enough. He's never been the most dexterous, indeed Alec considers himself a bit accident prone, it not being too uncommon for him to bump into things due to his large frame. He's never been the brightest either, didn't do too bad in school but did noticeably lag behind some of the other students. It wasn't that he couldn't apply what he learned, it was that it simply took him longer to learn something that came more naturally to others.

But, what he prides himself in is his strength. Being large, most people let him be as who would want to mess with that one kid about a foot or two taller than about everyone else? That was always fine with him, left him time to himself. Alec always appreciated his time alone, enjoyed it indeed. For when he was alone, all the pressures of the world just slipped away from him, he could relax without having to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with everyone around him. He never really had to work hard to make his body strong, it always just seemed to be so. Knocks he's taken would often harm others, but to him it was just something he'd shrug off. Alec never found a reason to voice his pain, it was always something that was passing, something he often forgot about five minutes later anyway, so why give it a voice? He's gotten more than one weird look for stubbing his toe and taking it in silent stride with nothing more than a grimace.

But indeed, what he prided himself on the most however, was strength of spirit. While he may not of been the most brightest, he still tried his hardest to learn, while he may not of been the most dexterous, he still tried his hardest to watch his step as he could. From what he's seen, his strength has been a boon to him, one that he should use to help instead of hurt people. He's often used to giving it his all when he needs to, so he shies not from hard work.

Joining the Archangels wasn't that big of a leap for him. While he would of preferred to make instead of break, he understands that he has a certain talent with stuff and before he joined Archangel, he was a demolistionist. Not the kind that worked with bombs mind you, more the kind that worked with the machines, wielded a jack hammer or a sledge. People would often have things brought up that they didn't wish there anymore, so he was paid to bring it down. When the troubles began, and became a threat, he didn't panic but rather went to see what he could do to help as best he could. This led him to Archangel

"Progress has been made. Enemy combatants destroyed sufficiently for you to rejoin." Rikki's voice pops up, still emotionless. "What the hell took you so long, Alec?" David asked. "I tried radio contact ten times, I was just about to go after you..." "Radio out. Probably Anti-robot measure. Fixed it." you hear another voice pop up. Strangely, it was your voice. It didn't come from you, but it was your voice. "It is feasible that the communications had been jammed, but what was the issue that had stalled you?" The emotionless voice of Rikki asked. "Had some trouble. Fixed that to." The voice that is not your own stated. "I had not detected any contacts in the area." "Fixed it. Check later if you don't believe me." "Whatever. Get the hell over here! Just follow the destruction, the path should be obvious."

What do you do now?

[Xanmyral]

Alec was spooked, to say the least. Who the hell is this talking like him to the other? A robot? Ezekiel? That... Witch person? The man didn't think it was Ezekiel, he seemed to be more the kind of person who likes people to get out of situations themselves but offers advise if needed, recalling the previous when he was dealing with the spiders. The large man inspected to try and figure out where the heck it was coming from. Was he saying this but not meaning to? Either way, whatever is going on Alec isn't amused in the slightest. He can fight his own battles, and isn't comfortable with the idea that he could be a walking megaphone for someone.

The man lightly tapped his comm in irritant, before heading towards where he saw Rikki and David last. Best catch up all the same.