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Post by Mister Karma on Feb 19, 2017 23:09:03 GMT -5
"...So the shipment just arrived at 3:00 this evening. I had my secretary pick it up and sign it off. Yes, yes, he brought it directly to the tech department, as directed." The sounds of scribbling over a sheet of paper were barely an interference. "We administered the artifacts a half hour after inspection. They did seem a little different from what we were expecting, but, every batch of artifacts we purchased had some kind of odd side effects to our LEO's. One week, I bought a shipment that shut down their immune systems for a whole day, as though they were rewiring themselves. They had to stay the night to avoid contaminations from the outside world! Imagine doing that in shift rotations with your entire staff! Haha, we had to rely on Aruka's vigilanteism to make sure criminal activity was in check those couple of days. Yes, that is a usual side effect from what I'd normally purchase." There was a pause, a strange silence that filled the room. More scribbling. "No, I hadn't gotten around to checking on them quite yet. I'm talking to you, good sir! Yes, well, I did hear that these 'super-artifacts' each had their own side-effects once administered into each person. I suppose that selling point is a way of saying each one is personalized to its vessel? Yes, I suppose so. They will be on par with the ranks of the saviors, Kumaria and Cruxis, you say? Haha, well, we have been pursuing that goal." A loud creak of the chief's chair rang out throughout the quaint little office. Two dense thumps on the oak desk followed after. "Yes, yes, we will run training exercises tomorrow morning, first thing, just to make sure they have been administered properly. Providing they work to the standards you have promised us, I'm certain they will become the new standard for vets and rookies alike! Ahahaha, will do, my friend, will do! You as well. Have a lovely rest of your evening."
Click!
The burly form of Chief Darryl Schilling straightened his posture back up in his large leather swivel chair, his heavy boots making contact with the hardwood floor once again. His quiet office was small, small enough for maybe two other people besides himself. To his right was a large bookshelf, crammed full of history books, crime drama and law text, along with military strategy and political science. His left was a potted fern much taller than his six-foot stance. In front of the oak desk, two small cloth-cushioned chairs for guests and employees alike to sit on. Chief Schilling's small office did not exactly scream "high salary," and for good reason. It was he who was appointed the New Haven Chief of Police back during Mayor Cruxis' six-month run of the city. He was so young then, only made Chief of Police at age 28. He was two years from retirement now, and you could see his age in his hair and face. Stress lined the corners of his mustachioed mouth, as did the creases in his forehead. His brown mustache had hints of gray, and the sides of his hair were graying into an off-white. Dark green eyes were deeply set in sinking sockets. Despite his burly appearance, it was clear that Schilling spent more of his time working--sometimes without meals--than he was sitting in his office, completing unnecessary amounts of paperwork. He had the kind of leadership Cruxis and Kumaria respected. He wore his usual professional attire tonight, an off-red button-down collared shirt covered by a black blazer, with a dark blue-and-silver striped tie around the collar. The shirt was tucked into a pair of soft, jet-black dress pants, and the ensemble was complete with a pair of shining dress shoes. Schilling was aware of the amount of money needed to buy such an outfit, and he was aware of what he sometimes had to do in order to see his job through to completion. This was just his last clean outfit; it would have been a matter of time before this would have character added to it, as well. Despite his slight overweight, Schilling was an active man when it came down to it. He needed to protect his officers, no matter the cost.
He looked over the stack of papers one more time on the green mat on his desk before clicking the intercom on his phone, contacting one of his secretaries.
"You may send them in now, LeBlanc," he said.
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Post by EightTailFox on Feb 20, 2017 17:37:36 GMT -5
Montana flips through zir paperwork one last time under the amber glow of the interior dome light before sliding the stack back into the manila envelope. Ze slides on zir shades and pops the door. The linsang slides out of the ancient silver 1939 Phantom 3 and tucks the envelope inside zir jacket. Ze smooths the black Italian silk suit. The car door closes behind zir as ze makes zir way around to the boot. Ze pulls out a large black military hard case from between the green tool case and red emergency kit.
Ze locks up before pulling out the lighter and pipe. Montana leans against the side of the car and puffs away for a bit. A handful of stars shown brightly against the city glow in the clear winter sky. Ze blows a smoke ring.
Finally ze dumps out the ashes against the tire and puts away the pipe. Ze grabs the case in zir left hand and cane in her right.
The hard cuban heels of zir dress shoes click against hard marble floor of the lobby of the police station. Ze waves zir government badge at the security officer then proceeds to ignore the busy clerks up front. Ze causally strolls down the hall along with all the uniformed officers and business suited inspectors and lawyers.
Things get easier to navigate once ze turns down the hall to the evidence locker. Ze rests zir cane on the ledge then pulls out the packet of papers. Ze slaps the papers on the ledge to get the clerks attention.
"Good day, sir. I'm here to pick up a weapon." Montana says through the window. "Yeah, yeah. Got the forms?" The clerk says. "Right here. One Id and Class III permit." Ze says sliding through an official DPS issued id with fake data values at key points and the weapons permit linked to that id. Ze real name certainly is not Mallory Verna Hamilton nor did ze limit zir self to being male. "Here's the release form and case number." Ze continues sliding through some full sheets. "And yes I brought a case for it." Ze says picking up and holding the huge case.
"What is this your picking up? An elephant gun?" The clerk says eyeing the size of the case. "Nah nothing of the short. Just an multi-barrel incendiary launcher in 40mm." Ze says. "An AGI 3x40 Brandgranatenwerfer perfectly harmless unless you're inflammable." "Eh what?" He asks as he surveys the papers. "A Brandgranatenwerfer made in Romania to kill vampires." "Nevermind ... Lets see case number ..." The clerk says reading the numbers.
"This is a fucking rocket launcher..." "No its a recoiless rifle." "Eh okay. Doesn't look anything like a rifle though." "Because it fires forward and backwards to cancel the recoil." "Oh..." He says leaning the launcher against the desk. "Should be some rocket looking things though that came in with it." "Though you said it not a rocket launcher?" "The ammo looks like rocket." "Eh ..." The clerk says heading into the back again. "Right here's two ..." He says carefully putting it on the desk. "Need to go back to get the third." "Here you go, sir. One not missile launcher and three not rocket rocket things"
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Post by Mister Karma on Feb 20, 2017 19:58:50 GMT -5
The waiting room was empty as usual for a late evening, sparsely filled with only four or so people. The few who were here had a follow-up to report to in regards to their cases they were dealing with. The rest? Well... They were here for a personal meeting with Chief Schilling. One such individual held utmost priority, much to his chagrin. He would rather have had everyone else go before him; politics and alumni status were considered lobbying in the demon lord's eyes. Still, there was time. He quietly insisted the stone faced lynx demon beside him go first. Her case seemed much more important than what he was after. All she wanted was closure in whatever she was dealing with. She politely turned down his wordless gestures, whispering a choked up "Thank you" to him.
It was as if the public insisted Damian Cruxis was to be placed on a pedestal. The civilians in Hell never did this, despite all he had done to protect their very rights to exist. He was content with that. Here...why did surface dwellers insist on hailing a man who took action decades ago as a hero? A god, in some cases? All Dave helped with was finalizing the Shattered Army's plans and, with Itachi's help, led the final war on A.N.G.E.L. Such a feat didn't require godly strength or divine knowledge, just a pair of balls no one was willing to flaunt at their enemy. Fear paralyzed those who were comfortable, causing a fear of a shifting paradigm. Leave what you know for an unknown? Dave's whole life was a series of unknowns, with few knowns sprinkled about. The knowns...he always had a family at his back, and a breath of fresh air every day. The unknowns... Why it was too quiet since the Art Museum Incident ten years ago. When his next meal was going to be. If Tam, Sasha, Myr, and Terza were going to be able to see him again.
He scrolled silently through the newsfeed of Social Ark, reading up on statuses posted by his many friends and acquaintances. Most were shared memes depicting cats doing oddball things with big white text, Commonwealth politicians lampooned in comic strip style art, and day to day life. Others, emotional or personal information out there for all the world to see. Why some of these people were on his feed, Dave had no idea. Some of them, he didn't even know how they found him. He put his settings on private! The occasional smirk at something smarmy posted by Itachi or Alastar was the only change in expression the demon king had.
The male secretary, David LeBlanc, suddenly called out, breaking the still silence that veiled over the waiting room. "Mr. Cruxis?" he called out, snapping Dave from his entranced stare on his smartphone. "Chief Schilling would like to see you now." "Very good," was all the demon lord had to day before pushing himself out of his seat, silently nodding his goodbyes to the lynx beside him. He'd pull a few karmic strings to make sure her day went a little better than it currently was.
He was well-dressed enough for the occasion, with a dark blue button down long sleeve and black leather vest adorning his torso and blue jeans on his legs. Black work boots were tied tightly on his feet. The only casual accessories were a pair of black fingerless gloves and his gold Fenrir necklace. His midback length navy blue hair was untied yet straight and neat. The police department knew him well enough to allow that much.
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Post by EightTailFox on Feb 20, 2017 22:34:14 GMT -5
"Yep, exactly. It's not a rocket launcher and those aren't rockets." Montana nods. "Works closer to a Mortar, the propellant charge accelerates it down the barrel. No rocket engine to keep accelerating it." "I never seen anything like this." The clerk says "Outside of video games at least." "I prefer old school stuff. Designed in 1970s manufactured in the late 1980s. Phased out of service in the 1990s. Apparently you humans did not like the idea of setting each other on fire anymore after the Vietnam war. A couple of pictures and its no more pitch forks and torches for the first world." Montana laughs. "Your a demon?" "Eh something like that. Demi-God, different kind of blood." "Zeus and stuff? Like the old man with lightning bolts what would knock people up in really kinky ways?" "Close enough." ze says with a chuckle. "1970s ... that's 90 years. This weapon is older than my dad. Is it even safe to fire?" "With proper TLC a gun can last for generations. I have a LeMat dating back to the civil war that still in firing condition. The ammo is newly made or at least recently refurbish. Old explosives go unstable and require replacement." "That is good. So the civil war is that when the reds fought the blues with alien technology over the right to import tea?" "North vs South over slavery with black powder weapons." ze corrects. "Same difference" the clerk says with a shrug. "So is there a door or something around here? The launcher isn't going to fit through the pass through opening." Ze comments. -----
Grace ignored everyone in the waiting room for the most part. There was not much to do and even less to ease drop on. The lopped ear bunny fiddled with her small black brief case. The thing is a tri-fold much like a giant wallet with pockets sized to easily hold legal documents. A shoulder strap and handle allowed for ease of carrying it around.
The black and gold of the case went well with the rest of her outfit, a provocatively cut dress suit. The black dress was cut short with a front slit cut dangerously high to show lots of panty hose cover leg. She is wearing medium heeled wedges. The polished black belt is thin with a gold buckle. The fitted jacket is worn open with simple gold buttons in front and on the sleeves. The pearl buttons of the white silk blouse is not fully buttoned and the tops of the lacy red bra can be seen along with plenty of smooth skin. She is wearing simple looking black plastic framed glasses.
"Mr. Cruxis?" Grace watches Dave get up, waiting a bit to see where he goes before moving into wingman formation with him, a little to the side and behind.
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Post by Mister Karma on Feb 23, 2017 21:02:14 GMT -5
Having the little bouncy bunny around helped ease the tension Dave was feeling, at least. Grace was pretty good at keeping the emotions in check, plus he had someone to admire in the meantime. The deal, he remembered, was discussing the tech trade...or, better yet, getting the police department's old technology scot-free due to them getting a new batch of...whatever. Their outdated tech was going down to Hell, to Gehenna's special forces. It just needed to be tweaked, whatever the obsolete stuff was, and able to handle the high heat in Hell for long periods of time. That would be months of experimentation, maybe even years. Dave was banking on months with the connections he had, and if he could nudge the stakes, weeks.
The walk down the clean corridor felt much longer than it usually would be. Something about the police station didn't smell right tonight. Why would the foul odor of death waft through the air so suddenly? It made his tail bristle, and the wolf was doing his best to take a defensive stride in his walk. "I can't be the only one smelling that, can I?" he asked Grace, who took wingman position behind him, as he arrived at the Chief's door. Given they were invited, he didn't need to knock. Just a twist of the knob, standing aside to allow the bunny in first.
Schilling eased up in his posture in his chair, smiling warmly at the two. Another beautiful demon woman with the wolf. He just couldn't stop, could he? He thought Rob was exaggerating during the Incident. "Thanks for coming, Dave," he spoke before going to make eye contact with Grace. "And might I ask the lovely young miss's name?" Formalities before everything would get started...
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Post by EightTailFox on Feb 23, 2017 22:10:05 GMT -5
"Other this way" the clerk says pointing to the left. "Why?" "You can't exactly fit it through the little mail slot." Montana replies. The clerk looks the launcher then the mail slot thoughtfully, as if pondering the validity of the statement. "I guess not." "So can I get my stuff?" Montana asks. "I'll have to go through the paperwork." The clerk says finally picking it up. -----
Grace notices Dave fur bristle and takes a little better grip on the brief case. The little brief case was one of her classic cases, Case 9 to be exact. This one is an actual black box device with much smaller tessellating pieces than the older models.
"Smell what? The cops having a bad reaction from having a late lunch at the taco truck parked around the corner two blocks to the east?" Grace jokes. "The place might go up if a match is lit, either way I'm ready when the shit hits the fan."
Outside the jokes the walk was rather boring. She nods to Dave as the wolf opens the door to the Chief's office. She steps in stands by the rather unhealthy looking potted shrub in the corner.
"And might I ask the lovely young miss's name?" "Ms. Bergstrom, Lord Cruxis's personal secretary."
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Post by Mister Karma on Feb 28, 2017 19:13:21 GMT -5
Schilling smiled warmly as the wolf lord closed the door behind him. "Ms. Bergstrom, a pleasure to meet you," he spoke as he extended his hand for a handshake. "Please, have a seat." Dave was second for the handshake, and the wolf took a seat in the satin chair. The chief leaned back and sighed, steeping his fingers and closing his eyes for a brief moment. The night was far from over.
"I'm...honestly, worried," Schilling started as he reopened his uneasy eyes, looking between the two. His hands fell flatly on the desk as he allowed his real self to show for the meeting. Dave knew the man well; a father of three, grandfather of five, he even watched the chief's children grow up and pursue their own careers. The oldest was a welder for Gladding & Son's War Machines, a Union company. They employed guilds to work security. The wolf leaned forward, brow furrowed.
"Worried? Worried, why?" he asked. Usually, he would segue into an ice breaking joke, but Schilling was much too unnerved by whatever to do that. This seemed serious.
"You know how we get special artifacts shipped to us to help our LEO's fight criminals holding more power than them?" Schilling started. Dave nodded, and the chief continued. "My associate and I were scanning through this particular batch..and I've never seen any--well, I've seen Eye Rings, that god Ivan Sauro used to flaunt his before Silver struck him down. These didn't seem a thing like that..."
Dave tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he looked from Schilling to Grace. "How...do you mean?"
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Post by EightTailFox on Mar 1, 2017 16:20:53 GMT -5
Grace takes Schilling's hand and gives it a weak handshake. She takes the offered seat. She easily and a bit carelessly, so that the Chief can get a good view up the spread slit of the skirt. She adjusts the skirt with the full knowledge that short of rotating the skirt at least 45 degrees there is nothing she could do to get the skirt to properly cover her. She smiles at the Chief before she settling the case onto her lap for modesty. Grace continues to smile at Schilling during the conversation.
"You send humans to actually try to subdue demons and weres and what not? That doesn't seem smart." Grace comments deciding to play bimbo in front of the Chief. Her sharp mind though was else wear looking up data.
"And why you get something as evil looking as the eye rings? Why not Magatama or Rosaries?" Grace says fingering her own gold bracelet with the opal like gem stone. Artifacts could look like anything as long as they wear made with the right materials and spells. The RNA was quite skilled in turning modern tech into Artifacts of power than worked better than the basic item. Dave himself has done a fair share of successful upgrade enchantments.
"This shipment wasn't from your usual supplier was it?" Grace asks Schilling with a knowing eye. That of the supplier cut some corners. She leans forward. "Want us to check it out? I'm sure we can find out if its a poison apple or a sweet deal."
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Post by Mister Karma on Mar 12, 2017 13:47:12 GMT -5
"Some of our force is comprised of humans, yes," Schilling explained truthfully, shifting so he was leaning forward, unwavering eye contact between the two demons. "To keep them up to par with criminal activity around the city, we have them equip artifacts with inherent abilities the LEOs can use at will. Some batches can give a speed boost, some a strength boost, and some can lend low-level aura abilities to their owners." He smiled then, adding, "With Dave's help here, we're always able to keep my force in one piece."
"Right, and usually, you get a reliable supplier for these kinds of deals," Dave added with a nod, his eyes on the Chief. They weren't accusing, but still they were curious. Schilling was much smarter than what he was putting on. "So you're saying you may have one instance of foul play here?"
"Correct."
"And why you get something as evil looking as the eye rings? Why not Magatama or Rosaries?" Grace says fingering her own gold bracelet with the opal like gem stone. Schilling knew the question was coming. He couldn't quite have an answer for that, however.
"I was asking my associate that same thing when we looked them over," he responded softly. "It came with research papers like all of our shipments do. Seemed a tad overplayed, considering the numbers were, well..." He stalled for a moment, as Dave leaned back in his seat, gold eyes focused. When the Chief found his words, he continued. "The reception was a little too well received, does that make sense...?"
A silent nod from the wolf demon.
"This shipment wasn't from your usual supplier was it?" Grace asks Schilling with a knowing eye. That of the supplier cut some corners. She leans forward. "Want us to check it out? I'm sure we can find out if its a poison apple or a sweet deal."
Schilling smiled again, glad that his long time friend's secretary was offering to come through for him. He was disappointed that Dave couldn't stay mayor for thirty years. Hellion politics still demanded its lords to be present. "That wouldn't be a bad idea," he replied, pushing himself out of his chair. "I got the boxes still in the locker room on the first floor, if you don't mind following me there."
~~~~~~~~~~
The locker room was spacious, with several rows of lockers lined up parallel to the door that led to the corridor outside. There was enough lighting to see where you were going, even into what would have been a dark and shady corner of the room, and enough space between rows of lockers to allow for fluid and free movement. Benches marked the middle of each space between locker sets, where those who were done for the day would set their civilian clothes or uniforms and duffle bags to pick up when they were ready to go. On the far end of the room, behind the fourth row of lockers, was the shower room. The showers were split into two rooms to accommodate for a large staff, each room having at least twenty showers each.
Andrew Saxon, a member of the in-house R&D team, was an impatient man. Ambitious, change-the-world-at-27, and never took no for an answer, the man with the high-in tight haircut standard of the police force needed test subjects. It was fortunate that Andrew was able to get a group of willing guinea pigs over the years, with the promise that he'd slip the Chief a good word on their performance so long as they kept their mouths shut about his less than ethical work practices and, well, his glaringly obvious insubordination.
Ten men were lined up in a neat row before him, at attention and stripped down to their skivvies. On a bench between Saxon and his merry band of suck ups was an opened wooden crate filled to the brim with packing peanuts. No doubt the goods were inside. Angry green eyes scanned over each worm in front of him, and without ever turning his glare away from the nearest nervous man, Andrew reached as deep into the crate as he could with a gloved hand. Artifacts were known to have unpredictable effects on bare skin. That was where these unfortunate young men came in. Schilling never said they couldn't test the new product before official testing began. At least, that's what the man with platinum hair told him. Everyone did it in almost every city, so why should the NHPD change its secret methods now?
In his hand as it rose from the peanuts were two purple rings. More, they resembled closed fleshy eyelids. Even the stonefaced Saxon was internally unnerved by this. This was unlike anything the NHPD purchased in the past. Stated as an "emergency demand," it was easy to see why it should have gone through customs first. He sauntered over to the nearest guinea pig, who looked like he already shat a house in his striped boxers.
"Hand," Saxon demanded in a diaphragm shout. At once, the man extended his hand, and Saxon slid the ring on his finger. Straight faced the entire time, he added, "Congratulations, faggot, we're engaged." He continued this for the next nine men, one trying to ease the tension with his own joke of trying to pull Saxon into a hug. "Wait for the honeymoon, horndog!" Saxon bellowed. "I ain't in mood yet!"
He'd wait, like they all normally would, for the effects to set in. Then one of the men screamed... Black and purple veins shot out from the ring and into the man's flesh as the eyelid opened, revealing a disgustingly purple and dark blue veined eyeball, its pupil slit menacingly.
Saxon widened his eyes, his uneasiness now visible...
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Post by EightTailFox on Mar 12, 2017 17:59:48 GMT -5
"Well other than the perceived religious aspects, though considering the nature of some of who you have to deal with having a little divine intervention isn't a bad thing." Grace comments and chuckles.
"Wouldn't put it pass a con artist to place a glamour class spell on a shipment of poor quality to help get it to pass muster." She muses. "Not even sure someone could tell its there without purposely checking with all the other magic on the artifacts. It be like the subtle hint of perfume dabbed behind ear and around the throat of the lady going to a party. A little scent that goes unnoticed in the background as you chat her up."
"That wouldn't be a bad idea," Schilling replied, pushing himself out of his chair. "I got the boxes still in the locker room on the first floor, if you don't mind following me there."
"I don't mind. And we have plenty of time still on the schedule for a quick check." Grace says. She gets up and pulls the short skirt down to properly cover her rear. -----
Montana waits patiently while the clerk dotted every 'i' and crossed every 't' before seemingly triple checking that he has in fact did so. Ze even excused zirself to the men's room and made use of a urinal, only to find that ze could have taken the time to properly dry zir hands as the clerk was still going through the papers.
"Everything seems in order." The clerk says sounding somewhat unhappy with the situation.
"So I can get my launcher back?" Montana asks. "Yes. Even if I am unhappy letting something this powerful back on the streets" "I can do more damage with my left pinkie than launcher can, consider it as a less destructive way for a demon to get there rockets off." ze chuckles. "Your a demon!?" Montana slides zir shades down so the clerk can get a good look at zir eyes. The florescent lighting making them seem more red than brown. Ze smiles. "I wont bite, even if your into that kind of thing." Ze chuckles. "So if you be so kind as to hand over my launcher and the ammo." "Right away, launcher first." The clerk says carrying the weapon to the door so he can hand it over. Montana drags the case over to the door so ze can secure the weapon. Ze waits by the door for the clerk to bring the ammo as well. The skittish clerk dragging the ammo out one round at a time. Ze gets all four and the pouch to carry them back in the end. "Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day" Ze says as ze locks up the weapon case.
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Rin
Drifter
Awesomely Failing at Everything.
Posts: 61
Rank: 1
SP/MP: 1300 [0]
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Post by Rin on Mar 13, 2017 20:53:29 GMT -5
Platinum stood there as silent as he always was. The cheshire cat grin glued onto his face. His platinum hair in his platinum eyes to hide the shine of laughter.
Make no mistake, the fifth seed was not sociopathic. He was crazy but tamer than any other seed.
Platinum didn't speak as he stood there watching. One man shoving what looked like a orb or an eye into the arm of another.
Laughter licked his lips as the platinum eyed man watched the other man scream out in pain. Of course he was being a little loud now.
But Platinum didn't care. He liked to be seen. And he was enjoying the pain coming forth from the unnamed human.
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Post by Mister Karma on Mar 15, 2017 1:53:07 GMT -5
As the trio took their brisk walk down the corridor to the door leading to the stairwell, Dave's pierced, pointed human-like ears perked up as much as they could at the muffled sound of bloodcurdling screaming. His pace slowed as his tail raised and bristled, the Chief behind him halting in his step. "S-something the matter, Dave?" he asked. The wolf demon furrowed his brow, looking over to Grace to see if she heard what he was hearing. Preparing to speak, he responded as he turned a 180 to face Schilling, "Unless it's Halloween, screams of that volume shouldn't be considered normal. Either a chainsaw murderer snuck into your police station through your shipment, or something else is afoot here..."
Schilling blinked once, sweat beading on his forehead. The Chief knew. They both knew. They all knew. Dave turned back around, shifting his gaze over to Grace for a few more seconds before adding, "Might be your shipment going awry."
He continued to lead the way, Schilling following after with a pace that was a little more than brisk. "We've-we've had issues in the past, Dave, with artifacts," he tried to rectify, "s-sometimes even putting a few LEO's in the hospital for weeks or even months at a time. Their responses weren't pained screams like..." His speech halted for a moment, the muffled shrieking still unrelenting through the thick, reinforced floor. "Oh...oh, God, no..."
"Then let's get our asses in gear and stop dawdling!" Dave growled, picking his pace up into a run for the stairwell door.
~~~~~~~~~~
The neat row of the test subjects was now scattered, a few of the men leaning against their lockers and howling in agony while others made a desperate attempt to burn their assailing artifacts off with hot showers to no avail. Saxon lost all of his inner drill sergeant attitude, completely kicking his military mindset, as he turned with wide fear-filled eyes towards the door that led into the locker room. The platinum haired man was grinning madly, and as Saxon made a mad leap and dash over a bench to reach the door, a sharp pain ran up his spine. All fear left his eyes as color drained from his face, a hand reaching behind him to feel a thick and slimy tendril worming its way into his spinal cord.
Shivering wildly, his hot breaths fogging over the window, Saxon asked as loudly as he could so the platinum haired man could hear him. "What...what in Sam Hill have you done?!"
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Post by EightTailFox on Mar 15, 2017 4:05:15 GMT -5
"Unless it's Halloween, screams of that volume shouldn't be considered normal. Either a chainsaw murderer snuck into your police station through your shipment, or something else is afoot here..." "Jason or Freddy, but definitely not a guy wearing a mask of human leather." Grace comments as the clear lenses turn into black sunglasses. She twists the skirt a quarter turn so that the slit is on her left hip. She flips the belt buckle over to reveal the matte black underside. "No chainsaws noises."
She unzippes the fly as well to open the slit all the way to the waistband allow her free movement of her legs. Smiling at Dave she tugs off the jacket while inverting the sleeves to reveal the gray urban camouflage lining inside. The jacket is fully reversible and she tugs on the now loose fitting battle dress jacket with over sized cargo pockets everywhere and buttons it up. She pulls out her black beret from her bag. A small tomahawk gets strapped to the exposed thigh over the black hosiery.
She fills the empty jacket pockets with the remaining contents of her case: twelve throwing knives, four 30-round magazines of 5.56mm NATO, four 20-rounds magazines 7.62mm NATO, two 5-round magazines of 12-gauge, and finally two 10-round magazines of .50 BMG.
"Wasn't sure what to bring to the meeting, so I brought a little of everything just in case." She says as she sinks an inch as her high wedges turn into slim thin soled combat boots. The empty bag metamorphosizing into a large black semi automatic shotgun.
"Then let's get our asses in gear and stop dawdling!" "Not a problem. I just finished gearing." Grace says as she slots in one of the 12-gauge magazines and chambers a round. -----
"Something rather unpleasant is happening inside these walls" Montana says ze stops in the middle of the empty hallway and unlocks the suitcase. The linsang shoulders the ammunition pouch and launcher. Ze kicks the case.
"Wake up, Mina." Ze says. The case transforms into a light weight Argos mech armored in scales. The thin legs and compact body gave the spider mech the appearance of a daddy long legs. Mina armament though was nothing to scoff at with the back mounted weaponry consisting of a belt fed shotgun on the right and a belt fed 5.56mm machine gun on the left. The magazines for guns also double as scabbards for the twin swords the mech has equipped for close range combat.
"I am a wake Master." Mina says automatically even as it surveys the hallway. Determining that they are still inside the police headquarters it mentally reviews the last few minutes before awakening to try to determine why.
"Defense mode. Active. Scanning." It says as its scales flutter as it opens its sensors. "There is a disturbance on this floor. The current situation is safe."
"Lead the way." Montana says as ze fade from view. Mina walks forward even as the mecha is fading from view. They stealthy make their way toward the unpleasant noises.
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Rin
Drifter
Awesomely Failing at Everything.
Posts: 61
Rank: 1
SP/MP: 1300 [0]
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Post by Rin on Mar 15, 2017 18:24:43 GMT -5
"What have I done?" Platinum purred as he looked at the man named Saxon. "What I have done is given you mortals what you wanted. What you craved. Immortality."
The fifth seed smiled as he looked at the man. Though Platinum was one of the few that did his job well. Though never clear of what Garnet really wanted, he still followed through.
Platinum loved his job. He looked at Saxon with those platinum eyes. One of deceit and sadistic pleasure. Oh how he enjoyed the job of placing cursed items into humans and robbing them of their humanity.
"It's not my fault I'm just doing my job. You all know deep down this is what you wanted. Though most of your friends might lose their souls or limbs in the process. Depending how hard they fight it."
Platinum then stood up and patted Saxon's head. He then got the most diabolical smirk on his face.
The fifth seed looked around before he did a jump and into Saxon's body. He decided that he wanted to play with the human the best way he could.
Using them as a puppet.
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Post by Mister Karma on Mar 23, 2017 3:45:29 GMT -5
"We...didn't want...this!" Saxon struggled between breaths, purple and black veins crawling over his flesh like lines on a madly drawn roadmap. His eyes shut tight as the immeasurable pain coursed through his entire body, and in a matter of seconds, he felt his feet leave the solid linoleum floor. A strange sensation shot through his spinal cord, and Saxon's screams were silenced. His body went limp, while the rest of the men were overtaken by the rings. Never mind the platinum haired man diving into his body; Saxon went completely numb. The shell of the man who was Saxon twitched as it hung there by the thickened tendril waving this way and that from the box's interior. Whatever was in there was his puppeteer.
~~~~~~~~~~
BAM! Dave's almighty foot cracked the door off its hinges, only responded to by Schilling with a brief yelp of concern. That would be replaced with the Cruxis lord's own money later--the wolf would make sure of that. The Chief paid no mind to the bunny's transformation. Given the crowd Dave knew, it was kind of expected at this point. Well, save for the duffel bag becoming its own weapon. That was a neat touch that he'd have to keep in mind for future LEO's...
"Our locker room should be up ahead, you two," Schilling assured them.
"That where you always drop off your new artifact shipments?" Dave replied as he summoned onto his back his two katanas, Gravedigger and Genkakuken.
"Mostly, yes, but--"
"Save the buts for kicking," the wolf cut in before nodding towards the end of the corridor. "Grace, take point at one side of the door, I'll take point at the other. God knows what's goin' on in there, but it certainly ain't size comparison." Dave took point by the hinges of the closed door, hands on the hilts of both katanas as he stood ready to lunge in case a hoard of guano insane LEO's came piling out.
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