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Old 07-04-2008
 
#61
United States Reservoir
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[OOC] Damn I'm lazy. [/OOC]

Vince sat there, watching the television produce the news broadcast about his "partner", so to speak. 'Most of this has to be bullshit,' he thought. Although the "Wilton Research Center" sure did sound familiar...

...sounds of medical equipment...fear...the stingy smell of sweat...soreness...pain...alarms...

He snapped back into today as the memories broke apart, jumbled up by the following weeks. Oh yes, Vince remembered...

He'd been in the Infantry...Marine Corps. 531 Division, Company A, Squad 3. Any hotspot the government wanted as cold as the void, they called on the 531st. And the boys did it. They were nothing but ice and steel...nobody among them was the exception. Above all moral and legal obligations, the 531st did what they were told. For months, and months, and months...but everyone had their day. And not the good kind of day, either: more like the kind that ends with you screaming as your intestines swell up and squeeze your stomach like a balloon about to bust, ready to release acids into your already-dying body.

As such, here they were: rumbling through the sandy badlands of another nameless lump of gas and rock, trampling an insurgent camp under their collective, ass-kicking boots. The 531 we're doing a good job, considering the insurgents were surprisingly well armed. The 531 came across many wielding static-charged carbine rifles; laser-aimed, CO2-propelled mini-grenade "hand-cannons"; and several .20-caliber pistols bolted into mounts allowing the shooter to fire around corners. But the trucking feet of the 531 kept on trucking, mucking up the sandy dirt with the blood of radical insurgents.

It didn't take the insurgents long to pull out the heavy stuff: explosives, acidic explosive, bioexplosives...the kind of things that don't just kill men, but put them in screaming, shallow graves filled with their own tainted blood. A grave Vince had almost fallen in...

...Vince cursed as he looked down, feeling the space on his neck. The black "pimple" had sprouted bigger spider-legs, one large one reaching up his neck. He felt it's alien pulse dance with his own...and he almost heard a voice calling - no, whispering - his name. He'd have to fix himself...soon.

His eyes listed back to the TV, boredom daring to sink in. 'We all have pasts...good, or bad, we all have 'em...'

 
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Old 07-07-2008
 
#62
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Jocelyn turned the water off to the sound of the TV still blaring. She wrapped the towel around her body, and wiped the fog from the mirror. Her exaggerated make-up was gone, and left her plain yet pretty face untouched by anything unnatural. She wrapped her long blond hair around her hands, and pinned it up with a claw. She reached over into her bag and pulled out a fresh pair of underwear and a bra, and began to dress. Her jeans and white t-shirt looked inconspicuous enough. She then let her hair back down and began to vigorously dry it with the towel, bending over to allow her hair to come over her head as she rubbed the towel through the long wet strands.

Running a comb through it, she was done, and walked out of the bathroom.

"Shower is empty if you want it. By the way, my name is Katie. What's yours?" She extended a hand to the mystery man sitting, watching TV.
 
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Old 07-09-2008
 
#63
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Vince, absentmindedly hearing the water-pipes sloshing the bath water, heard the noticeable stoppage of water as the shower cut off. For several minutes, the lady rummaged around, 'Probably doing the things ladies do after a good shower.' He knew he had to get a fix, or he'd be useless and probably dead soon. He reached into a hidden pocket in his jacket, and produced a vial/hypospray combo. He quickly skirted his pants leg up, and jammed the hypospray's convenient clip into his boot. He covered the boot back up, satisfied with the deception.

A few minutes more passed before the bathroom door opened, revealing the blond haired, blue-eyed beaut he had brought along. The TV's depiction of her was very harsh; they made her look like a druggie addict on the last few years of her life.

"Shower is empty if you want it. By the way, my name is Katie. What's yours?" she said, reaching the couch and extending her hand to him. Vince extended his own hand, lightly grasping her still-damp hand. He hoped he could trust her; "Name's Vincent...Vince will work, tho." He released her hand, noting how hot to the touch she was. "You look fuglier on TV," he said, motioning to the TV as he smiled in a cat-like way. She was also quite hot physically, but he'd manage to get over that. Most of the ladies he "played" with had some decency about them; at least, when he was sober. He had stopped the whole "wine and woe" routine when he had encountered Miss "Alexandria Victorvich". He mentally shuddered at the thought.

He sniffed his right armpit quickly, covering up the motion by nodding towards the shower as well. "Leave me any hot water, Katie? Seeing how much steam is still coming from there, I'd be willing to bet not," he said, getting up, the wood of he couch sighed, relieved at the removal of his weight. He stripped himself of his coat; even though Sam and Jude rested within, he didn't care. It wasn't like she could turn him in, could she?

"Well, you best hope that there's some left for me, or I'll be snappin' at you with a cold, wet towel," he said, a hint of teenager-ish glee in his voice. He took his poor shirt off as he walked to the bathroom, flinging it into the trashcan where her wig now resided.

 
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Old 07-09-2008
 
#64
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"Wait! What did you mean by the television?" She asked, a look of puzzlement on her face.

"You're wanted for murder, you know that right..... Katie?" He replied with a suspicious tone at the end, implying that he didn't believe her name was Katie.

"I am?" She asked, eyes gazing to the floor. "But, you're not going to turn me in, are you?"
 
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Old 07-09-2008
 
#65
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Vince chuckled honestly, a gruff yet tender sound that he found mildly surprised him. "Turn you in? Oh, let's see...I know one of the biggest underground crime lords, who's probably sending some of his most lethal killers to get me..." he chuckled again. "No, Miss Katie...or whoever...I can't turn you in. The minute I do, I've got 10 eyes and three sniper scopes on my skull." Vince's hand planted itself on the bathroom door, gently creaking it open. The warmth of the air inside comforted him.

"No, ma'am - the last thing I want to do is turn you in," he said, facing the bathroom. His head turned to face her, however. "And knowing that you can't ass rape me by turning me in...makes me feel a lot better." He grunted, and stepped into the bathroom. "Not like you'd do that anyway, right?" Before she could answer his half-sarcastic question, he let the door rest up to the frame, where it sat just barely cracked. Now inside the cozy bathroom, he quickly pulled his boots off, placing the hypospray on the sink. He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants drop to the floor. First thing's first, Vinnie, he thought as he pulled the pants over his feet, letting them land in a crumpled pile.

Now in nothing but his boxers and socks, he reached for the hypospray, and carefully placed it onto the black "pimple" on his neck. He took a few deep breaths, and then punched the button, fire seemingly erupting under his skin as the toxins worked through his biological pipes.

He coughed as his blood pressure skyrocketed. His mind began to hallucinate as his pulse thudded against his bony skull. His face was already turning red; but he yet remained as quiet as he could be, even as his grip tightened on the sink's edge. He could distantly hear his joints popping as his muscles flexed, trying to fight against the only "antidote" to the infection.

An eternity spread itself out over the course of about ten seconds that were blissful agony. Finally, however, things returned to normal. Sweating and panting, Vince dumped the hypospray into the trash bin. Now dropping his boxers and popping off his socks, his mind quickly cleared as he pulled the shower curtain away, stepping inside the white, plain shower.

A rush of water followed the curtains return it's extended position as Vince turned the dials, the experience merely seconds ago already fading from his short-term memory.

 
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Old 07-10-2008
 
#66
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Jenna stuck to side ally ways and service streets as she made her way north, hoping to avoid any more run ins with bounty hunters. After walking 8 blocks, she found herself in another public square, where there seemed to be a rather large gathering of people. Wondering what was going on, Jenna easily slid into the mass of people, and pushed her way near the front to try to find out what was happening.
"This is insane!" someone within the crowd cried out.
"Yes, this is unprecedented, locking us in like dogs!" said another.
"Maybe they are going to kill us all, I heard that it has happened on other colonies!" a panicked voice said.

"Hey, what's going on?" Jenna asked one people gathered.
"You don't know? They say a lockdown has happened. Yep, this whole area is locked down and there is no word why. Plus, some are saying that a whole lot more coppers and even soldiers are moving in. If we don't get some information soon, I fear a riot my tear this entire city apart." the stranger answered.

Vaessen quickly backed out of the crowd and sat down on a nearby bench.
"Great, a lockdown. This day keeps getting better and better..." she sighed, thinking over her next move.
 
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Old 07-13-2008
 
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Beta Team
Avarice S&TC Entrance
Status: Alert
No Sign of Target

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

Seconds had passed since the terrible screams of Alpha Team had sounded over the joint radio network. Beta Team had put themselves on the alert instantly, and now all guns were trained on the glass panels that formed the front of the main building of the Avarice Science and Technology Center. The two Armoured Personnel Carriers, each with twin MG76 Gattling Guns, were given the green light to open fire at their own discression.

Bishop, the assigned leader of Beta Team, was growing increasingly tense. Countless battles had passed across his eyes. He had seen ten of thousands of comrades perish in the most unsettling of ways, he had seen nations fall and he had seen them rise. He was a seasoned veteran beyond any dispute. 46 years old, with sprouts of grey in his dark hair, Bishop was eleven years over the maximum limit that Avarice soldiers were allowed to be before they were removed from frontline service, yet there he stood, the most competent and deadly soldier known to the colony, ready to exchange hatred with another enemy.

However, none of this comforted the decorated warrior. This wasn't a usual case of a terrorist occupation, or an escaped convict, which was what he found himself doing more and more those days - infact, he wasn't sure what he was dealing with. Alpha Team were elite soldiers in their own, and to hear them scream for mercy amidst their own panicked gunfire had shocked Bishop to the core. Just what was he dealing with? He would ask himself this question many times that evening.

'Sir, I request permission to scout the Center's central Lobby.' Asked one of his squad members. A young and eager addition to Avarice's Emergency Forces.

'Denied. It's too dangerous.' Replied Bishop sternly. 'You know your post.'

The soldier sighed and walked off, disapointed that he could not prove his bravery.

Then, Bishop's personal radio link with AEF (Avarice Emergency Force) flashed up inside his visor. The technology in his combat helmet read his neurological request to activate the link, and static hissed into his ears.

'This is Bishop, I'm picking up distortion.' He said, pressing his mouth piece closer to his lips.

A muffled voice responed. 'Someone or something is interfering with the radio frequancy.'

'Do you think its the target?'

'Possibly. Reinforcemnts are enroute, ETA 30 minutes.'

'30 minutes?' Snapped Bishop. 'You heard what happened to Alpha, if that thing comes out here, we might not be able to contain it.'

'I understand. What are your advisements, Bishop?'

'First of all, I need to know what the heck this thing is.'

'I told you, that's classified.'

'Damnit colonel, do we have a chance?'

'What are your advisements?'

Bishop sighed. The colonel knew exactly what his team was dealing with, but the immoral workings of the AEF's chain of command was comparable to a cloak and dagger complex. The grunts were merely pointed in one direction and told to do their best. Twenty years ago, that sort of behaviour would have Top Brass engulfed in a flame of public outrage.

'Air strike. If we fail to contain the target before reinforcements arrive, the center and the surrounding area needs to be obliterated. Its the only way.'

'Understood.'

'You were going to do that anyway, though, weren't you colonel?'

'Affirmitive.'

Bishop terminated the transmission, and cursed to himself. His team members cast glimpses back at him as they eagerly scanned the Center for signs of movement. They knew something was wrong, Bishop never acted like that unless he had something to be pissed off about.

Walking over to the nearest APC, that was parked parralel across the top end of the Center's elaborate courtyard, Bishop looked up at the gunner.

'If you see something move, blitz the fuck out of it. Use the side-winders as well if we have to, I want the front of that building lowered to the ground. Understood?' He said coldly.

The gunner nodded.

Meanwhile, the rest of Beta Team were getting more tense. Some moved closer to the front, taking cover behind trees and thick hedges to get a closer look. They were eager to avenge the fall of Alpha Team, but they also knew Bishop would never permit a frontal assault. They would need to sit there, and await whatever it was to attempt to make its escape.

 



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Old 07-13-2008
 
#68
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Jocelyn sighed a sigh of relief and decided it was time to take a look around. She could hear her stomach growl, and decided she would start in the kitchen. Although there were plenty of canned goods, there was absolutely nothing in the fridge. So, she grabbed a can of raviolis and opened them, placing the contents in a bowl and putting them both in the microwave.

As the food heated up, she walked back through the rest of the house, looking in drawers and closets for anything of use. There was nothing but a few extra sheets, and some cobwebs. She then remembered there was a garage attached to the house. Opening the door, she was surprised to see a Yamaha R1, with the keys in it.

"Perfect!" She said aloud, as she walked back into the house, to grab her food.
 
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Old 07-16-2008
 
#69
United States Reservoir
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The shower spread thin, erratic veins of water across Vince's body, it's more-than-warm temperature soothing the muscles closest to his skin.

After working with the shower gel and shampoo for ten minutes, Vince's mind began to drift, his body enjoying the relaxing spray as his mind returned to a more...worse time.

He remembered how she - Naomi - had taken care of them after the Cadence crashed. Before Belgur's men had found them and transported them. Before...

...he remembered her tanned skin, so beautiful in the brazen sun. She was definitely of Asian descent; but there was no mistaking the Russian and Greek heritage in her, either. Sometimes, he thought that she cared for him too...but he never did find out. When Belgur's men came, they decided she was a "liability", and stole her off separate from Vince and Ahab. Vince had wanted to die, but Belgur had other plans...plans that now meant nothing.

All he could see was her face, twisted in agony as two burly cyborgs dragged her away, into the underbelly of their own ship. She did not cry out, nor did she cry at all: but there was something deeper, something that she tried to direct to the then barely-conscious Vince with all her heart.

He could barely remember that face...

He took a moment to regain his composure. His mental clock told him he had been in the shower fifteen minutes: long enough. Turning the knobs to the closed position, Vince stepped out and grabbed two towels; one for his head, the other for his body. It didn't take him long to dry himself off, since he didn't have as much concentrated hair as Katie/Whoever-she-was. Nevertheless, he had forgotten one major thing that, for the moment, prevented him from leaving the bathroom.

He creaked the door open, popping his head through. Although he could see her, he could smell food: didn't smell half bad. "Hey, I hope you're not eating...'cause I kinda left my bag beside the couch. Just let me know if you don't mind me going Roman and wearing a towel as I run over and get it, or if you want to get it for me." He leaned his head towards where he thought the kitchen was. "Or, if you want, you can just close your eyes. I won't hate you if you take a peek, though - we're adults, after all," he said, a light, playful smirk on his face.

 
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Old 07-16-2008
 
#70
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Jocelyn popped her head out of the kitchen, laughing.

"I'll get it for you. Are you hungry?" she asked, walking towards the living room to grab his bag. "Here ya go," she said, handing the bag to him.

"So, food?" She asked, as she turned back towards the kitchen.

(ooc: sorry so short. Didn't really know what else to do. lol.)
 
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Old 07-18-2008
 
#71
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Vince took the bag, and quietly left the door very thinly cracked. "What kinda food are we talking about? Hey, no - scratch that. Fix me whatever it is, I'm fucking hungry." Tossing the towel over its little bar, Vince leaned over and unzipped the bag. From within he pulled out a sleek black button-up t-shirt, with gold and blue vertical stripes. He also pulled out blue boxers, tan carpenter pants, plain white socks, and jet-black military boots. "Niiiiiice," he uttered out loud.

After a couple minutes of fiddling around, he finally made his way out of the bathroom, hair still damp. He sniffed the air gently, in one big swoop. Even though the 'bad guys' were getting closer and closer, Vince could see himself living in a place like this, a place so homely and warm. It reminded him of a simple life...something far more simple than nowadays.

He turned his head towards the kitchen - the source of the smell. "So, what's cookin', miss?" he asked, hoping she could hear him. "I'd like to know because...well...we probably wont be able to stay for too long. God knows whose following us - and how close they are." He sighed, and shook his head. "So, um, what are we eating before we leave, eh?"

 
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Old 07-18-2008
 
#72
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"Ravioli's good?" She asked, handing him a bowl with fork. "I hope so, cause it's pretty much all they had." She added, taking a bite from her own bowl.

"By the way, I looked in the garage. There is a motorcycle, with the keys in it. We could probably use that to get to your ship." She sat down on the couch, and quickly finished her bowl of the canned pasta. She knew he was right. They couldn't stay there long.

It wasn't five minutes after that, that the distinct sound of a car pulling up could be heard.

"Did you hear that?" She asked, looking at Vince, who had also stopped chewing due to the sound. His head perked up towards the front driveway.
 
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