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Please keep it the way it is

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Voting closed: July 06, 2018, 02:21:31 pm

[TricMagic]

Eh, it's fine. Such things are annoying, but normal. Keep at it, and hope you feel better.

[NRDL]

Wait until the rest of the team is in the briefing room.

[Egan_BW]

Await anything interesting happening.

[Ozarck]

I think we're all collectively waiting for the briefing. Maybe with a few armory details as a side thing.

[TricMagic]

Falchion. Also, talk shop with him.

[TrickleJest]

Jack starts existing, specifically existing to wait for whatever briefing we will be receiving, at least until he receives said briefing and can begin to exist to fulfill things that can only be described as "more interesting than waiting". His huge normally unblinking eye actually blinks, weirdly enough, as he looks at the other players. A good welcoming gesture, right?

[Mallos]

Turn 26 Begins

Falchion. Also, talk shop with him.

Mana Sol seals the deal on keeping the falchion before speaking to McEntire. She's only two words into her sentence before he interrupts her with a note of exasperation in his voice. "Ain't ye got somewhere t' be, lass?" The spirit realizes that he's right. Once she had her weapon she was supposed to head directly for the briefing room.

When she arrives, she finds that the others are already here. Everyone realizes that the entirety of the team (save for the slumbering thug, Plugs) is here. Wasn't something supposed to happen? Moments pass and an uneasy tension brought on by nervous anticipation settles over the room. That's when it happens; the lights begin to flicker and the ground shifts. In the total darkness that follows, everyone is rendered utterly blind save for OP-TR with his scanners and night-vision.  After around 40 seconds, the shifting ceases and the lights flicker momentarily before returning to full operation.

The entrance to the room is totally gone- where there once was a door, there is now only smooth metal tiling. Antony is suddenly startled by a hand on his shoulder. The good doctor falls out of his chair onto his back in an attempt to quickly turn to face his assailant. The individual in question is around 7 feet tall, a proper giant, and rather imposing. Despite their humanoid appearance, there is an inherent sort of lifeless coldness in their frosty blue eyes. Their skin is smooth and grey(an unnatural tone, to be sure.) How anyone could miss the white-haired giant is a mystery to all, but until this moment they have gone unnoticed.

"My master would like you to refrain from putting your feet on the table." In spite of its great stature, the person(?) has a rather soft and gentle voice. "With that said, my master would like to ask that you give me the Quickblade." They slowly drop to their knees in front of OP-TR, so as to get closer, cupping both hands together and extending them toward OP-TR. The octopode does as they are asked, dropping the sword into their sizable hands. "Good. My master would like to extend her congratulations for a job well done." As they speak these words, their lips lift into a subtle smile that somehow looks even more warped and out of place than the thousand-yard stare they wore before. "My master would like me to introduce myself and begin the briefing for the next mission now, and so I will." Their smile fades. "My name is Lamont. I act in my master's stead when she is busy with other matters, like I am now."

"First I must take care of a certain imbalance; There are only five of you... nevertheless, my master has prepared contingencies for such tardiness." A complex glyph on the back of Lamont's right hand lights up as he places his palm on the closest wall. When he pulls his hand back, the same glyph has burnt itself into the wall. "Come on in." A rectangular chunk of the wall seems to melt into a fluid state. The aforementioned fluid visibly vibrates with increasing frequency, seemingly trying to coax something out from the chrome-colored mess.

First, an arm. Then another. Both of these arms reach out to either side of the "threshold" in an attempt to lift whoever they belong to out from it. With some effort, a pyramid-headed man flops forward and onto the ground. "Welcome to the briefing room, Mr. Jack." Lamont helps this "Jack" to his feet and gives him a reassuring pat on the back. "My master would like you to know that you will not regret signing the Contract. You will come to profit much from this, Mr. Jack." Lamont turns to face the rest of the Sellswords as Jack stumbles towards the nearest empty seat.

"The primary objective of your next mission is the assassination of one Voutr Azirkan, the leader of a PMC known as the Brass Hounds. This PMC is enlisted primarily by a rival corporation known as the Lazarus Foundation. His death would lead to turmoil within the Brass Hounds and temporarily leave the majority of the Foundation's holdings largely unguarded. In one of his rare public appearances, Azirkan will be attending a performance of the Tragedy of Etherea at a high-class theater." Lamont pauses for a moment. "My master would like to inform you of Voutr's own prowess in close combat, as well as the fact that he is likely to be surrounded by a retinue of bodyguards at all times. This brings us to the next objective", Lamont pauses once more and tilts his head to the side, eyes squinted, as though he were trying to hear a distant voice. "My master has it on good authority that one of our best agents was bribed in order to join Azirkan's ranks. Due to his rather unique talents and skills, she would like you to capture Agent Anuvo or coerce him into peacefully returning. Master would like to make sure you mention that she is willing to give him twice what Lazarus pays him as a raise. "

Lamont once more assumes a more relaxed posture. "My master would like to know if you have any questions before you begin."

Turn 26 Ends

OOC:Damn, that took a while to type up. As per usual, let me know what you think and how I can improve.

[Egan_BW]

"Neat. Killing shit is exactly what I'm for. Don't expect me to deal with that other thing, however. I am not a diplomat bot."

[NRDL]

"Neat. Killing shit is exactly what I'm for. Don't expect me to deal with that other thing, however. I am not a diplomat bot."

"Luckily, I am."

"What can you tell us about Anuvo? Any information regarding his personality, habits, objectives, would be useful in possible negotiations."

[Mallos]

"What can you tell us about Anuvo? Any information regarding his personality, habits, objectives, would be useful in possible negotiations."

"A good question. Agent Anuvo was rather fickle... sociopathic tendencies, very Machiavellian. He would often ask for raises or promotions, believing his commitment to the company was unappreciated. In reality, the only reason he hadn't received these rewards were related to bureaucratic errors." Lamont frowns. "My master is quite saddened by his departure. He was quite possibly the most talented Cleaner we've ever employed."

"Make no mistake, though, his pettiness does not make him any less dangerous. And one more detail... my master has given me clearance to inform you that Agent Anuvo is a Class-A mutant, meaning that his genetic alteration is both powerful and in his total control. He has complete influence over each cell in his body, right down to even the most minute of processes. This can manifest in many forms, but he primarily uses it to make alteration to his appearance."

[Ozarck]

"Can we have some high explosives? Also, please rank your master's sexual attractiveness, on a scale of Woody Allen to Selena Gomez."

[Mallos]

"Can we have some high explosives? Also, please rank your master's sexual attractiveness, on a scale of Woody Allen to Selena Gomez."

Lamont stares daggers at the good doctor. "My master would like to state that she is highly uninterested in employees, and that if you attempt an advance again she will have you castrated and fired, in that order." He clears his throat before continuing. "Furthermore, my master has no idea who the individuals you speak of are."

"And as for explosives... that is highly unadvised. Many important and wealthy individuals other than Voutr will be attending the play, some of which the Company is interested in. Blowing them to smithereens is, as you could imagine, detrimental to our financial health."

[Ozarck]

"Frigid. Noted."

Describe the target's abilities, weaponry, and mercenary squad."

Antony absently kicks his feet up onto the table again.

[TricMagic]

Figure out what manner of being this is. Fae?

"Excuse me, but are there any major wood sources in the theatre? "

[Mallos]

"Frigid. Noted."

Describe the target's abilities, weaponry, and mercenary squad."

Antony absently kicks his feet up onto the table again.

"According to our intelligence, the entire retinue is comprised of genetically altered combat veterans. This is not a surprising development considering Lazarus' penchant for biotech." Lamont pulls out a chair and sits, sensing this will take longer than expected. "As for Keta's weaponry, it could be anything. He may even use his own body as one- I recall he once stabbed a particularly cocky target to death with his hands." He pauses before delivering the next sentence with emphasis. "Just his hands."

Figure out what manner of being this is. Fae?

"Excuse me, but are there any major wood sources in the theatre? "

"My master is unsure. Wood is not a common material in these times of less-than-favorable environmental conditions. Perhaps the more lavish seating would have wooden furnishings? As for what kind of being, Keta is a half-elf Class-A mutant. His baseline appearance is quite human, but considering his total control over his own physiology he could look like whatever he pleases."