Seamus
Sexual Position
Posts: 82
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Post by Seamus on Jan 2, 2012 0:30:57 GMT -5
D'espion realized that this could be his only chance to join up. To join the TSC was his mission directive, and he always followed orders. Granted, it was his own, personal mission, but the rule still held. D'espion knew how to manipulate people, especially humans. Assuming, of course, that the good Captain was merely human. Just in case, D'espion would add his own special touch to the persuasion; he probed with the ethereal fingers of magic into James' mind. He implanted this message: "I like this fellow. He's a man I want by my side, a man of wit and power." The process took a mere two seconds, but that would be long enough to be awkward, so he covered it with mindless babble.
"Captain! I thought I recognized you. I have, of course, seen your picture before. You've quite a reputation, although, to be honest, I didn't believe the tales until I saw you in person. You are every bit as strong as they say." He wanted to flatter, but not to the point of obvious toadying. He needed trust, but he needed blind trust, not informed trust. "As you may know, I'm out for a job. To be perfectly honest, I'd like to join the TSC. But I have a special... shall we say, condition. Can we discuss this somewhere more private?"
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Post by thatfallout3guy on Jan 2, 2012 13:52:06 GMT -5
The arrow shot off from the bow of the young student, heading directly for... the side of a bandit. It hit the bandits side, causing him to cry out in pain as he fell over. This alerted a few others, and soon the entire camp was under panic.
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Rook rolled his eyes, closing the briefcase and standing to his feet, "If you'll excuse me, I must leave before I catch Syphilis from the stench of this place. Good luck, Sparrow," Rook finished, nodding before turning and making his way out of the bar.
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"About five clicks north-west of here, ma'am. We figured we could take a shortcut through the woods, and... well..." the young man didn't finish. He sighed, hanging his head in shame before looking back up at Jaimie, "Ma'am, them bandits didn't fight like normal. They were tenacious, like they were protecting something. I think we need to tell Major Brown."
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James couldn't help but feel something trying to enter his mind as he stood there, 'Is he... trying to implant something?' He thought to himself. His mental defenses were much greater than that of most, thanks to special training from his dad.
'Might as well see what he wants... "I like this fellow. He's a man I want by my side, a man of wit and power." He wants me to let him in, eh? Either desperate, or up to something... either way, he's way to strong for me to not hear him out.'
"Sure, we can go somewhere private," James said, a slight smile on his face, "but we need to make it quick, I've got some friends coming to pick me up soon. We'll talk over drinks," he said, turning back and heading toward the town,
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Post by guycoolspore2 on Jan 2, 2012 19:06:04 GMT -5
LagorĂșthon grinned as he said, "This is why I took you along, Murtagh. Make sure you shoot the rest in the back of the leg with the technique I showed you, alright? Alright."
With that, LagorĂșthon jumped out of the tower, and before he hit the ground, he muttered, "Kalina lanta," and landed graciously as he sought to find more places the prisoners could be.
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Seamus
Sexual Position
Posts: 82
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Post by Seamus on Jan 3, 2012 0:22:00 GMT -5
D'espion sighed in relief, feeling glad that he hadn't been detected and grateful that the man wasn't afraid to be out of view of the public. He followed James back to the bar, and sat at the same table he had once occupied. The men in the bar stared at them with awe. He wanted to stand and take a bow, but decided against it. While he thought the Captain would support it, he was unsure. "Captain, as I said, I have a proposal. But first, alcohol. Oi, barman! Scotch and a whiskey. And give my mate whatever he wants, on me. He's earned his share." Turning back to James, he took a deep breath and put up his best "scared shitless but eager and determined" face.
"I'd like to act as a lord militant of sorts- ah, right, this is the TSC. Sorry, I'd forgotten myself. An advisor, if you will, a man of no rank but substantial power. You've seen what I can do; as you noticed earlier, I'm a bit of a tactitian. I'd retain the power to go into battle, of course, but in times of peace I could conjure you a goddamed army. Of mud, flames, ice, even lightning, I could set up and control entire battalions of golems, even if just for show." D'espion had one more card to pull, if the Captain was hesitant; the TSC needed demonstrations of power. Peace was something the people had grown unnacustomed to; it was something the TSC needed to keep. The simple fact that a strong mage was part of the army could help maintain the peace.
Balance and chaos. Those words bounced around in his head. Now, politically, there was chaotic balance. In the war, there would be balanced chaos. These concepts were hard to grasp, but sometimes, only through chaos could balace be gained. Just as it is said that there can be no darkness without a light, there can be no war without first there being peace. This was peace. D'espion knew full well that a man of his power could make war, if necessary.
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Post by Rygand on Jan 3, 2012 23:34:56 GMT -5
Sebastian watched Rook depart and leave the bar, chuckling to himself. He had known the man for many a year, and his generally stuck-up attitude had always given him a giggle or two. Undoubtedly, this was why he had chosen the bar as the location for their meeting.
The assassin picked up his glass of cognac, and downed it. Placing the glass neatly on the table, he also dropped a few credits in it. A gentleman always tips. He set his hat and got up with the suitcase, and set off to leave the bar. He noticed that the medical team had already came for the working man, and they were carrying him out. A glorious bond of manhood had been forged, and the two shared a look, and gave each other a manly thumbs up.
Outside the bar, Sebastian took a moment to enjoy the gentle breeze that blew through the busy night streets. He set off on foot towards the southern edge of the town, into his base of operations on this planet. It was located in a nonchalant little baker's called Rumsfield. The owner was an old friend, so he let Sebastian borrow the back room.
Standing in front of Rumsfield, he smirked. Such a quaint little shop, this was. Out of place in this futuristic world, it seemed almost like an ancient relic. Stepping in, a bell gave it's cheerful clink, and the owner, one Frank Barney, turned his attention to the noise, cheerfully. He was quite a short and old man, bald and of white hair. He did have a very might moustache, however.
"Welcome, welco-... Ahh, it's just you, Sparrow. You had this old man hoping for customers! It's been a slow day!" Frank tutted, placing a freshly baked baguette on the counter. "Have some lunch, lad. You're overworking yourself."
Sebastian grabbed the baguette, winking as he slipped into the back room, past all the baking equipment.
"I didn't say it was free, Sparrow!"
The room was small, and only held a cabinet, a work desk and some shelves filled with notes -- surely detailing the fine twists and turns of running a bakery, nothing Sebastian could possibly understand. Or so Frank had at least said. He had gathered his equipment around the desk, in quite a messy fashion -- he wasn't very organized with these things when he was at a... temporary base, such as this. Just a quirk of personality.
The assassin pretended not to hear the old man, munching on the baguette as he gathered his equipment. Some throwing knives, dual silenced pistols, back up hidden pistols, a large roll of diamond string, some surveillance equipment, smoke bombs... Should be fine, he thought. If push comes to shove, he's always got a few tricks up his sleeve. Finally, he took a decorated wooden box from the desk, opening it. Dual daggers, made of the finest metals, fashioned to be as deadly as possible, with fine carvings on it's shining surface. One of the carvings was of the Davenport family insignia -- a sparrow standing on a wine bottle.
He chuckled to himself, placing this all in a utility belt of sorts -- filled with small custom pouches for all his equipment. He was ready to set off, and so he did. For the compound specified in the documents -- a large mansion at the edge of the city. Well guarded, of course, but he'd have no trouble sneaking past a few guards. Finishing off the baguette, he wiped his mouth of the breadcrumbs, and left the shop, leaving only the bell to ring in his wake.
"Damn it, Sparrow! You're going to pay your tab before you leave, you hear me?!"
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Post by thatfallout3guy on Jan 3, 2012 23:56:31 GMT -5
James chuckled a bit, leaning forward, "Most people I'd just laugh off if they said that, tell them to start out small, maybe join the marines or something, but you..." James paused, leaning back as he smirked, "you're different. I've seen EXACTLY what you could do, and my old man would probably kick my ass if I didn't at least offer you a job."
James paused, looking as the waitress finally brought their drinks. He quickly took a sip, letting out a satisfied sigh before turning his attention back to D'espion, "Have you ever heard of the Spectres?"
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The guards were on somewhat of an alert, but it was nothing that Sparrow hadn't dealt with in the past. He had found a structural weakness in the mansion, a series of air ducts that would lead almost directly to the man he was sent to kill.
Looking down, Sparrow could see two guards standing in front of a large, heavily decorated door. Behind that door was his next victim, who would soon meet his demise.
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Seamus
Sexual Position
Posts: 82
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Post by Seamus on Jan 4, 2012 0:16:54 GMT -5
D'espion laughed manically inside. He knew full well what the Spectres were- his mission objective. Of course, he hadn't expected to achieve it so easily- perhaps James was less ingenious than he had, originally, believed. But his motto was, "never think less of your enemy than you do of yourself", so he repressed that thought. "Er, your 'old man'- this would be lord militant- damn it to hell. This would be Supreme Commander Fallout, correct? And the Spectres... I can't say I've heard of them, no. Of course, I can only imagine, with a title like that..." And his eyes glinted with real envy here, to be mistaken, he hoped, for anticipation.
He hadn't meant to fumble with lord militant again. One of the Church's highest rankings, he respected them, although he felt that he could perform their jobs a mite better. He understood how difficult it could be to be in charge- although he hoped he could accept the responsibility his job afforded. To start something on this scale would be amazing- difficult, nigh impossible, even, but he would do it. He would begin something amazing, and, hopefully, be there to end it.
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Post by Rygand on Jan 4, 2012 0:20:49 GMT -5
Sebastian looked down at the guards, clicking his tongue. He set his hat, a motion that had become a reflex by now -- he was nearly never seen out of this outfit of his, less in disguise. He considered it his trademark. And damn, did it look good.
He scanned the two guard with his gaze, in thought. He nodded to himself, and then started quietly unscrewing the ventilation grid. He slid it aside, and without making a sound, descended -exactly- in the blindspot of the two guards, somewhat behind the two. His quiet steps and the camouflaging of his presence were the result of a lifetime of training, and he made it all look effortless.
"Well, lads. It's nothing personal, but I can't have you two hear what goes on behind these doors.", the man shrugged, a cheeky smile on his face.
The two guards turned, having been given one hell of a scare. The man had appeared as if out of nowhere. Before the two got even the slightest sound out of their mouths, Sebastian had grabbed their foreheads, and the two fell to the ground limply. He shook his hands, smirking. This had been the work of the man's Poison Power Sphere -- he had injected them with an incredibly fast acting neurotoxin.
"Take five, guys. A job well done."
Then, using an impressive show of acrobatics, he had hidden the two bodies in the ventilation shaft he had come out of, one after the other. Luckily they were quite sturdy, so Sebastian did not have to fear the two breaking the shaft and falling out.
Checking his surroundings quickly, he nodded to himself. He went to try the doors, and was surprised to find them unlocked. He narrowed his eyes, his guard now up. He slid into the room, once again nearly without sound. As he opened and closed the door, he also did something as... insurance. No one would come through this door after him, without facing a slow and painful death. His powers allowed him to make objects poisonous, and this was no exception. For this job, he picked a deadly poison he had constructed within his body, a mixture of some of the deadliest poisons known to man, which he had named Sparrow's Blood. Anyone who came through this door from now on would be infected with this, and be reduced to a twitching husk of a human on the ground, within seconds.
He turned to examine the room, hoping to see his target, and hoping that his target had not indeed seen him.
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Post by thatfallout3guy on Jan 4, 2012 0:45:22 GMT -5
"Spectres were an idea my old man came up with. It's damn near impossible to try and keep an entire galaxy under watch without some form of help, so why not make a group that does just that? Spectres roam around where they want, helping out here and there, and occasionally doing a job for the Council. They have little to no paperwork to deal with, and they're usually left alone to do their own thing. The only downside is it's not the safest job in the world..." he said, pausing to take a quick sip from his drink, "most Spectres don't live to be thirty, although I heard about this one guy who's in his sixties or seventies. Had a weird foot and always wore a mask, but I'm getting off topic. If you wanna be one, it's not as easy as me explaining what they do, and who they are. You're gonna need to prove your loyalty to the TSC, as well as a fuckload of other things. Think you're up for it?" James asked, a small smirk forming on his face.
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The room was very... quiet. All Sebastian could see was a chair in front of a fireplace near the other end of the large room. As he looked, he saw an arm come from behind the chair, a cigar in the hand. The arm belonged to a man it seemed, and he flicked the ashes off before drawing it back towards him.
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Post by Rygand on Jan 4, 2012 0:53:24 GMT -5
Sebastian dusted himself, looking at the arm, the hand and the cigar. Something seemed off here. He sighed quietly, rubbing at his chin in thought. Why did things always have to get complicated? Oh well, it would be fine, he figured.
He dropped his shroud of silence, and took casual steps forward, a calm smile on his face. He walked up to the desk in front of the chair, and the man sitting in it, and just stood there. He placed his hands in his pockets, and waited for the man to turn around. He would have surely heard his footsteps by now.
"A beautiful evening, isn't it?" Sebastian asked, his voice almost soothingly calm.
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Seamus
Sexual Position
Posts: 82
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Post by Seamus on Jan 4, 2012 1:05:17 GMT -5
Was that cocky twatbag challenging him? D'espion had enough power to crush this man in an instant, and that bastard had the audacity to challenge his power. D'espion stopped, blinked, and wondered why he had exploded inside. The headaches were getting worse; he supposed he could've blamed it on that. The vision blur was getting more frequent; he could blame it on that. He was beginning to fear for his life; he blamed it on that. But he couldn't think of that now; now was time for the mission.
"Ahah... I see. Well, I suppose I'd like to help with that. Lots of travel, sounds like. I like travel." He allowed his gaze to wander into the distace before snapping back to James. All part of his character building, of course; D'espion didn't mind travel, but he didn't particularly enjoy it. He had grown accustomed to the closed walls of the monastery, and didn't like being able to see the horizon. "Anyway, prove my allegiance? Understandable. Hell, for all you know, I could still be a loyal fucking Child of Eldrwroth. I could be a fanatic."
Ballsy. Necessary. To prove he wasn't a sleeper agent, he'd have to mention that he could be one, but then shoot that idea out of the water. "Of course, I'm not. But, that's a long story. Let's just say that if I went back to the Church, I'd be tied down and murdered for blaspheming. For 'thinking', if you will. Alas, I digress. Prove myself? How would I do that?"
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Post by thatfallout3guy on Jan 4, 2012 9:58:40 GMT -5
The man jerked the the side, looking at Sebastian with a bit of shock. He was an older, somewhat pudgy man that was dressed in a silk lounging robe, "You da new guy? Where's ya papers?"
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"It's not really simple..." James said, taking a sip of his drink, "you'll have to start out as a trainee, like everyone else. You'll be going with whoever my old man assigns you with, helping them with their missions and whatnot, and once they think you're ready, they take you to the Council for your last test. But once all that crap's out of the way? You're in," he said, finishing off his drink before standing up, "right now though, we need to get you to meet the old man. Ready?"
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Post by Rygand on Jan 4, 2012 10:13:08 GMT -5
Sebastian blinked in surprise, somewhat baffled. Was this really the man he was supposed to assassinate? The infamous and high ranking Lieutenant for the Syndicate, Oswald Kinston? The man known for his ruthlessness and political advancing as of late?
The assassin reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture of his target. Yeah, it definitely -looked- like him... Shrugging to himself, Sebastian chuckled.
"The new guy? I'm afraid I must disappoint you, dear Oswald. Allow me to introduce myself." Sebastian took off his hat and pressed it against his chest, then taking a somewhat exaggerated, but elegant bow, while keeping eye contact with his target, he grinned widely. "I am the Trick Sparrow. It is a pleasure to meet you, for the first and last time."
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Post by thatfallout3guy on Jan 4, 2012 10:15:16 GMT -5
Oswald glared at him for a moment, "TRICK SPARROW?! FUCK!" He exclaimed, jumping from his chair, grabbing a cane as he did. He began backing up, shaking a bit, "HOW MUCH?! I'LL DOUBLE IT, I SWEAR!" He exclaimed, backing closer and closer into a corner.
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Post by Rygand on Jan 4, 2012 10:58:57 GMT -5
Sighing somewhat, looking quite disappointed, Sebastian shook his head. He had figured he'd get at least some joy out of this excursion. Oh well, business was business. He approached Oswald calmly, his hands still in his pockets. His steps echoed in the large room.
"I'm afraid it does not work that way, dear Oswald. You see, this is a business. It would be a stain upon my reputation, were I to turn on my contractor in such a way. You understand, surely?" Sebastian smiled sweetly, still approaching Oswald, slowly.
"Admittedly, I will not take much enjoyment in this. It's a shame. I was honestly expecting some form of challenge, you see? A clever trap, perhaps some hidden guards. Maybe some highly advanced robotic guards?" The assassin tutted, shaking his head.
"I suppose we all gotta live with the disappointments we face, though, no?" He was now standing right next to Oswald, looking into his eyes, the grin on his face widening.
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