[X] My Assistant

[crizh]

Entirely understandable. We all have operational protocols that we adhere to, I would never ask you to compromise yours.

Dust, I would be interested in attending the meet. I would also be happy to use whatever Tac and Sensor software you want to roll out to the team.

[Mickle5125]

"Erm... I think my nexus should have enough space... depends alot on how many drones I'm running at the time... oh! speaking of! How far are we going to be from supplies? b'cause I'm runnin' a little low on ammo after... well, last time." Lilith giggles self-consciously.

"As for the meeting... I'll be there. Just supremely out of sight. I'll let you know if I spot any hints that the employer's hiding anything, though. Sound good?"

[Muspellsheimr]

"Let me know the location & time of the meet. If I am able, I will join you."

Seraph looks over to the troll, a light smile on her lips as she idly traces a finger between her breasts.

[Dumori]

"Well guys I doubt this will be a short trip. So planing for a few months of operations would help. Though I'm doubting we'll be in action for long. Well find out more tomorrow. DC the gift is 100% legal I called some favors and my old rep did the rest."
Dust winks as he make this cryptic remark.

[JoelHalpern]

"I look forward to seeing you at the meeting. Always worth seeing the one who needs the work."

[DWC]

The troll cocks his head to one side and raises an eyebrow at Seraph's gesture.

"Gifts? This must be my lucky day."

The troll pulls up his shipping manifest and does a bit of quick mental math. After a few seconds, he assembles a second product list

"Much like Lilith, I will need to acquire additional ordnance prior to our departure. I only packed for a brief deployment, not more than two weeks of protracted combat operations. What will our resupply interval be?"

[Muspellsheimr]

Seraphs smile deepens.

DangerClose:

[ Spoiler ]

"I think you know what I want. I'm well worth it, I promise."

[Dumori]

Dust fiddles with his comlink and then stands up sharply.

"I've really got to set off. I'll see you tomorrow 9am people."

Some where in London. 6th January 2071 later that night.
"So farther do you have the goods I requested?"
The old priest looks up at Dust surprise on his eyes and mutters a small prayer.
"Farther I though you knew of my SURGE. I did not mean to surprise you like that my humble apologies."Dust bows his head in respect. "You have changed so much my son. Yes I was forwarded a case addressed to you what on earth is the catholic church sending you. "
[color=cyan]"That I can easily answer." Dust bends down and opens the three maglock holding the long case closed. "My that is beautiful. More than I asked for. My masters aren't ones to give gifts like this." Dust removes for the case a gilt scabbard holding a arming sword of extreme beauty. Entering his had in recolors its self to be a plan sword and then disappears from view. Up on drawing it lets out a low hum and reappears the blade glowing with inner light."A work of art. It really is. Farther was there any messages to go with this?"
"No my son only to keep you eyes and ears open. That's all I know. Child why is the church giving this you"
"That I can not tell Farther. Only trust I am doing the lords work."

[DWC]

His attention still fixed on the little human woman's lewd disply, DC raises his goblet of dessert wine.

"0900 is it. Will there be someone waiting to meet each of us, or should we wait for you in the atrium?"

Seraph:

[ Spoiler ]

"We'll see. Just don't expect me to keep you warm while we're down on the ice."

[Dumori]

"The atrium. Yes the atrium will do nicely"
Damn my vows. Damn them to hell. No I do not mean these thoughts forgive me lord.
Dust leaves the room mumbling what sounds like a prayer.

[Muspellsheimr]

Dust:

[ Spoiler ]

"Tomorrow, class or casual dress?"

[DWC]

After Dust departs, DangerClose gulps down the last of his wine, then produces a cigar case from inside his suit jacket and offers them around the table.

“Anyone care to join me for a smoke before we retire for the night?�

After placing a quick call to his hotel’s car service, he withdraws one of the cigars, smells it, and heads outside.

Seraph:

[ Spoiler ]

�Come and get it, little girl."

Outside, he strikes a match on the wrought iron fence and lights up, savoring the mix of smoke, night air, and the warmth of a good meal.

[Dumori]

Seraph:

[ Spoiler ]

"More formal I would say but what ever you feel like tbh."

[Muspellsheimr]

Dust:

[ Spoiler ]

"Would it be to our advantage to... distract the Johnson?"

"Good evening, everyone. I am sure I will see you at the meet tomorrow"
Seraph smirks at the pixy as she follows the troll out of the room.

Lilith:

[ Spoiler ]

"Your size is unfortunate - for you. Months at a time without company, & some of the team quite good looking. I may be able to help you with that, if you ask nicely.

[Mickle5125]

Around the time that Dusty leaves, Lilith finishes her meal and quietly leaves the table, activating her Concealment power as she does so. I'm afraid I don't know any of you well enough to really trust you yet. But I'll change that. And who better to start looking into than our sorta-kinda mysterious leader? Besides nobody interesting is in town, so I don't have much else to do...

Her course decided, Lilith follows Dusty from a safe distance, trying to get a feel for what makes him tick. She's slightly surprised to find that Dusty's path lead them towards a fairly out of the way church. Huh... you didn't strike me as the churchy-type, Dust...

She follows him in and listens to the conversation between the two before popping over to astral sight to see what the sword is about. Well, that's a pretty piece o' steel... and powerful, too. Why IS the catholic church giving you that, Dusty? I guess there's a lot I don't know about you...

<<The Morrigan>>
<< Morrigan, I need any and all information available on a merc by the name of Andrew aka Dusty. He's been merc for 10 years, and ran the london shadows for the seven prior. He has some connection with the Catholic Church. A big one. Additionally, information on a combat mage by the name of Abbadon/Jean, a giant troll by the name of DangerClose, a vamp by the name of Seraph who did 2 years in Desert Wars, and an Elf by the name of Tam. I want to know who I can trust, although the Vamp is the biggest interest after Dusty. What the hell does she do?>>

[Dumori]

Seraph:

[ Spoiler ]

"What ever you feel like. I guess you might not want to show too much skin, you know, being a vampire and all."

Danger Close:

[ Spoiler ]

"Oh FYI I think your date is a vampire have fun"
*wink*

[DWC]

The burning tip of the 58 ring cigar glows in the dark night air.

Seraph, and the warning about her arrive at the same time. He takes a moment to ponder whether she's actually a vampire, and more importantly, whether he cares. He looks down at her as she walks up next to him, and, conveniently, down the front of her dress.

The prospect of feeling threatened by someone so small and so frail is alien to him. But at the same time, she doesn't appear the least bit frightened of him either. There's something predatory about her, but that only comforts him. Predators don't hunt other predators. They know it's not worth the risk, especially when there are so many sweet, succulent, helpless prey just wandering around waiting for something to lope up and rip their throat out.

Dust:

[ Spoiler ]

"We have both spent enough time in the wilderness to know that even the most confident leopard does not try to eat lions. Just the same, if I miss the meeting, call the Special Air Service."

The ash falls from the tip of his cigar, sizzling in a puddle left by the afternoon's rain.

"Driven. Fearless. I like that. Death is too sudden and too arbitrary not to live for the moment."

[JoelHalpern]

Tam walks out, nodding to the Troll as he lights up. "See most of you in the morning I expect." He walks down the street, turns a corner or two, and grabs a cab to a walk in the park, followed by a cab to the Dojo. In the morning, get to the area of the meeting early, wearing business attire. Get a light breakfast near by, and walk in about 2 minutes before 9.

[DWC]

06-Jan-2071, 2251 GMT, Lindsay House, SoHo, London, United Kingdom

After Tam's departure, his last words roll around in DangerClose's horned skull.

"Most of us?

Pause.

"Right. Lilith is not planning on being seen at the meeting."

With a mental command, he sets his commlink to wake him at 0530, and looks up just in time to see a white Range Rover skid to a stop in front of Lindsay House. The driver hops out, decked out in the uniform of a bellhop at the Park Inn Hyde Park, walks around to the rear passenger door and pulls it open.

The troll begins the comical process of stuffing his frame into the rear of the vehicle without setting the interior ablaze with his still lit cigar, breaking a window or the sunroof with a horn, or flat out ripping a seat off its' mounting. After a few seconds of shifting, he finally looks comfortable. He pats the top of one thigh and smirks at Seraph.

"Come sit on daddy's lap and tell him what you want for your birthday."

The driver blushes.

07-Jan-2071, 0856 GMT, Ministry of Defense, Whitehall, London, United Kingdom

Heads turn as DangerClose exits the cab. The Ministry of Defense gets hundreds of visitors per day, and the people who work in this section of Whitehall are largely oblivious to the average visitor, in a suit, with an umbrella, getting out of a cab, rushing to make an appointment after being caught in traffic.

No one is used to them being trolls. The security station verifies his SIN and tags him as a visitor. Magnetic Anomaly Detectors concealed in the gate sweep his body for cybernetics and concealed weapons, amending the results to his visitor permit. Invasive cyberware, no weapons, no armor.

The gate guards shift slightly at his presence just the same. The troll looks like a problem. His SIN says he’s a problem. The cyberware scan indicates that he’s a problem. His demeanor says he does not wish to be a problem.

“Good morning. Donald Chutzi. I have an appointment at 0900, though I am meeting the rest of my party here. Would it be too much trouble to head into the atrium to look for them?�

The guards allow him entrance and the troll enters the building lobby like he owns the place, searching for familiar faces.

[crizh]

Abaddon makes his excuses early, he has much to do before tomorrows meet.

@Lilith

[ Spoiler ]

<<Jean Private Channel>> May I impose upon you for a favour cherie? If you have access to a mechanical shop I could get started on modding gear and drones for ze trip. I do not sleep as mortals do and eet is nice to have something to keep my 'ands occupied.

Abaddon flew to the warehouse in Milton Keynes that the drones were stashed in. Unpacking what he needed, he donned his Armour and got to work. Jean knew what to do if Lilith replied in the positive.

[ Spoiler ]

Summoning Force 12 Task Spirit


Summoning (4) + Magic (8) + Power Focus (12) + Aspect (2) = 26 Dice = 10 Hits.


Spirit Resists

Force (12) = 12 Dice = 3 Hits.


Drain 6p

Charisma (12) + Willpower (15) + Centering (12) + Aspect (2) = 41 Dice = 20 Hits


Binding Force 12 Task Spirit

Binding (4) + Magic (8) + Power Focus (12) = 24 Dice = 8 Hits

Force (12) x 2 = 24 Dice = 7 Hits

Drain 14P

Charisma (12) + Willpower (15) + Centering (12) = 39 Dice = 9 Hits

Damage 5P

First Aid


Logic (12) + First Aid (12) + Medkit (6) – Magician (2) = 28 Dice = 9 Hits

7 Services Owed

[Muspellsheimr]

06-Jan-2071, 2251 GMT, Lindsay House, SoHo, London, United Kingdom

Seraph moves gracefully to follow DC, moving to straddle him, silently thankful all her gowns have open sides; "this could have been complicated, otherwise".
"I'm not telling you anything. I take what I want."

Oblivious to the driver, she quickly frees her full breasts without obvious movement & begins playing at her companions arousal, releasing him from the confines of clothing minutes later.

"I hope you have some endurance, big boy. You aren't getting any sleep tonight."

"Don't expect this to be gentle" comes from her light & playful just as she digs her nails into the trolls sides hard enough to draw blood, forcing her hips down violently.

[Mickle5125]

@Jean

[ Spoiler ]

<<Umm... I haven't had a chance to unpack it, but it should be with the rest of our gear. Box marked " Lilith's tools o' doom". Don't touch any of my drones until I have a chance to deactivate the security systems I rigged up. It would be terrible to have to explain why we have a bloody smear on the wall instead of a team mate, no?>>

07-Jan-2071, 0600 GMT, Ministry of Defense, Whitehall, London, United Kingdom
Lilith yawns to herself as she waits for her target. She had arrived a couple minutes ago and settled onto a window ledge facing a side door to the Ministry. Too short... too skinny... too many... Perfect!

An hour after she arrived and started watching, a lone, half-awake looking troll approaches the door she had chosen and begins fiddling with his passkey. She quickly slips off the ledge and glides towards the troll, sending off a quick message as she does so.<<Morrigan, Go!>>

Lilith times her glide perfectly, reaching the door just as the troll opens it. She quickly glides right through the door and right through the sensor suite, trusting The Morrigan to loop the feed from it, preventing them from noticing her arrival. Not shedding any speed at all, Lilith darts through the halls above head height until she reaches the Atrium. Quickly flying high, she finds a convenient ledge out of the line of sight for most visitor and settles down to wait for everyone else to arrive.

[DWC]

06-Jan-2071, 2252 GMT, SoHo, London, United Kingdom

�It never is.�

Gone is the friendly troll who laughed with the pixie, enjoyed an ice wine after dinner, dabbed his steak’s juice from his lips with a napkin, and waved at school children in a museum. In its’ place is something primal, brutal, and very, very strong. A colossal hand closes savagely around Seraph’s neck, his lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl, and he stabs her roughly in the thigh with the smoldering cigar.

In the front seat, the driver says a silent prayer of thanks for his data filter.

[Muspellsheimr]

07-Jan-2071, 0900 GMT, Ministry of Defense, Whitehall, London, United Kingdom
Seraph approaches the Ministry in full-transparency Zoe Second Skin, nothing concealing any part of her. The suit gives her the appearance of standing in the glow of a furnace, beads of sweat slowly running down. Shadows of fire ghost across her, drawing the eye unconsciously away from her face.

Every movement sensual, precise, she moves towards the atrium. Her SIN is broadcasting; she expects no difficulties, & encounters none. Many stare as she passes; full nudity is not unheard of, but combined with her movements... many consider forcing her right there; none act upon it, instinctively knowing she is a predator if not consciously - violent & savage.

Seeing DangerClose, she moves towards him.
The taste of his blood, the pain of his attack, the feel of his thrusting inside her, stretching beyond her limits... exquisite. This one might be worth keeping. Probably to proud to get taken care of; men...
"Ask the mage to heal that", indicating where she had maimed his arm after breaking the grip on her neck.

Seraph had last seen the troll a few hours ago, when she left to prepare for the meeting. She had needed another set of clothing, to begin. The troll (at least, she thinks it was DC) had ripped it off her, and at her unresistance, gagged & tied her with it. She also had to feed; she had plans for the meet, & needed to increase her power above the normal limits.

Surprisingly, she had found a Dryad early on her hunt - quite a rare treat. The woman was weak, breaking quickly beneath the torture & magic, no longer capable of distinguishing the difference between pleasure & pain, addicted to the false euphoria of the soul being ripped from the mortal shell.

[ Spoiler ]

Essence Drain (11 = 4 Charisma + 7 Magic):
Threshold 4; 2 Minutes, 5 Hits
Threshold 5; 1 Minute, 5 Hits
Threshold 6; 1 Minute, 6 Hits
Threshold 7; 2 minutes, 10 Hits
- - +2 Magic (Focus / Persuasiveness; Multi-Tasking, Kinesics 3)

Torture (21 = 4 Charisma + 3 Tailored Pheromones + 6 Empathy + 2 Intimidation + 2 Specialization + 2 Obvious Weapon or Magic + 2 Caused(ing) Pain)
9 Hits

Orgasm, Cast as needed, Force 5 (13 = 5 Magic + 4 Spellcasting + 2 Mentor Spirit + 2 Specialization)
Variable Hits [3,1,4,4,5,5,4,5,3,5]
1 Drain (10 = 6 Intuition + 4 Willpower)
Variable Hits (Fully Resisted)

The woman had been allowed to live with only minor physical damage; not out of any sense of compassion - her flavor was intoxicating. This one would do anything told - wanting, needing, what Seraph could give. She would finish the woman later. Or, perhaps give her as a gift to the troll. Yes.
"Tell me - have you ever raped a woman?" Seraph asks with a small smile on her face. Anticipating a yes, she continues. "What about a Dryad? You should certainly try one. They are... addictive."

[DWC]

07-Jan-2071, 0858 GMT, Ministry of Defense, Whitehall, London, United Kingdom

Towering over the crowd, the large African troll spots the quiet elf fairly easily. He waves, collects a coffee from the stand in the lobby and trundles over.

DangerClose smiles broadly, his face and neck covered in fresh, small cuts and scratches. The cuts on his hands are fresh as well, and he smells faintly of antiseptic, though the aftershave lotion covers most of it.

“Good morning, Tam. I trust you had a good evening and the morning finds you well. Are you ready for a long, boring day of meetings, briefings, and bickering over contract details?�

Relaxed and cheerful, if a little groggy, he takes another sip of his soykaf, content to fill the time with small talk until the others arrive, and the work begins.

When Seraph walks up and opens the conversation by asking about his arm he shrugs shakes his head dismissively. Treating the dislocated elbow had been trivial, especially for someone with years of experience working on battlefield trauma. The swelling would be gone by mid morning, and the arm would be back to full strength by lunch.

When she changes the subject to the ecstasy of brutalizing dryads, he nods and answers in accented English. His tone is almost embarrassed.

�My youth was little more than a spree of every imaginable brutality against anyone misfortunate enough to live through one of my tribe’s attacks. Now, I find as much sport in outrunning a cripple as I would in forcing myself on a woman. The spoils are bitter in any conquest over the helpless.�

The friendly troll is back, and the act is extremely convincing. There’s no trace of the monster that beat her bound body with a pedestal lamp, a towel rack, a red hot fireplace poker on three separate occasions, an ironing board, his concrete hard fists, two pieces of patio furniture, a table leg, and threw her against the ceiling hard enough to knock her unconscious.

“Good morning, Seraph. You are looking quite invigorated today. Have either of you seen the others yet?�