Hmm, I'm sure I'm not the only one who needs to go retrieve gear before heading off. Hour going to be cutting it close, looks like we'll have to get all cosy on the flight there. Will we need to requisition gear before we leave or will we be able to requsition in flight so that will be ready on arrival?
What sort of time frame are we talking for clearance from KE if at all.
Do we have have an inkling of who we are dealing with at all, and I'm assuming no ransom demands or anything.
Beckett pauses at moment and then adds, Do we know who else may have interests in the area outside of whoever is playing with the rides.
Full Version: The Tragic Kingdom
"As I mentioned before," Greer continues,"Time is of the essence. We can delay the flight approximately 30 minutes more, giving you an hour and a half before you meet on tarmac, but no more. Any other equipment you need may be requested, although not always approved, in flight. For example, gentlemen, we will not be authorizing a Thor shot." His mouth twitches into a semblance of a smile before he speaks again. "Your gear will be ready for you within an hour of you arriving at the drop point in Orlando. There you will have time to prepare and coordinate your team before we move you into place. As for clearance from Knight Errant, that situation is in flux. Most likely, we will not have word from them until well after you're inside."
Greer sits back, smoothing out his suit jacket as he does so.
"There have been no ransom demands. This fact lends credence to our assumption that our personnel were not the targets of this attack. We believe they may simply be bystanders in all this. And as was previously discussed, we expect no direct opposition. The identity of the perpetrators behind this are as of yet unknown. None of our intel has been able to gather any information as to motive or goal. We are as in the dark as you, I'm afraid."
Greer sits back, smoothing out his suit jacket as he does so.
"There have been no ransom demands. This fact lends credence to our assumption that our personnel were not the targets of this attack. We believe they may simply be bystanders in all this. And as was previously discussed, we expect no direct opposition. The identity of the perpetrators behind this are as of yet unknown. None of our intel has been able to gather any information as to motive or goal. We are as in the dark as you, I'm afraid."
Very well that satisfies my questions, I'm ready unless others have any additional queries. I should not need much time, just need to pick up some items. Don't think you stock much troll sized armor that would fit.
Beckett looks over to the others.
Beckett looks over to the others.
While everyone else converses and understandings are made clear, Scratch downs the rest of his drink in one long, slow swig. Despite the best efforts of his medical implants, it's clear that he's still shaken with the prospect of whatever it was he saw in the AR clips.
"That about covers things for me. If I can think of anything else, I'll be sure to ask our liason on the flight. I just need to swing by Snohomish for a tick to pick up a few things, then I'll be good to go. Where can I pick up the credstick? And, speaking of our liason, who'll that be exactly?" By the time he's finished talking, he's already on his feet and readjusting his jacket. Then, while the meeting wraps up and he waits to be dismissed, Scratch begins preparing a text message for his Atomix and Voodoo at their fastfood joint. Once he can get a signal after leaving the office, he'll hit the Send button.
"Got a meet-and-greet with some serious bigwigs back at the office. Gonna need the usual Big Party platter, but super-sized. If you still got that Deluxe Meatball Sub on the menu, I'll take one of those, too, plus a side of Chili Long Fries and an Electric Blue Soyslushie to wash it down. I'm in a hurry, so I'll be tipping big if you can have it all ready in about half an hour. Sorry for the rush, guys. I'll owe you one. --Mr. Caterpillar"
"That about covers things for me. If I can think of anything else, I'll be sure to ask our liason on the flight. I just need to swing by Snohomish for a tick to pick up a few things, then I'll be good to go. Where can I pick up the credstick? And, speaking of our liason, who'll that be exactly?" By the time he's finished talking, he's already on his feet and readjusting his jacket. Then, while the meeting wraps up and he waits to be dismissed, Scratch begins preparing a text message for his Atomix and Voodoo at their fastfood joint. Once he can get a signal after leaving the office, he'll hit the Send button.
"Got a meet-and-greet with some serious bigwigs back at the office. Gonna need the usual Big Party platter, but super-sized. If you still got that Deluxe Meatball Sub on the menu, I'll take one of those, too, plus a side of Chili Long Fries and an Electric Blue Soyslushie to wash it down. I'm in a hurry, so I'll be tipping big if you can have it all ready in about half an hour. Sorry for the rush, guys. I'll owe you one. --Mr. Caterpillar"
[ Spoiler ]
[ Spoiler ]
Jack stands up out of his chair.
Well I'm ready to roll. Just need to drop by somewhere. Speak to a contact. Ill excuse myself if I can get the address to the airfeild Mr. Greer?
Well I'm ready to roll. Just need to drop by somewhere. Speak to a contact. Ill excuse myself if I can get the address to the airfeild Mr. Greer?
Two last questions sir; Do you have us slotted to go in on foot, and are we meeting directly on the 'tarmac' once we return with our personals. Time is 'of the essence' as you say, so the location or address of our rendezvous for our flight would be helpful.
Greer nods as Jack stands, "Of course, Mr. Salem. The address for the airfield, as well as the call sign for our Lear is included in the AR file you should have already received. Security personnel have already been informed of your arrival and will be expecting you. Simply approach from the west end of the field. You'll find directions included with the address. Your liaison for the flight will be a Mr. Daniel Dunne." Greer's eyes slide over to Morn.
"Once you arrive in Orlando, you will be picked up by members of the Horizon Orlando Security Division. They will bring you to the tactical center that has been established at the Disney World perimeter. Here you will receive any updated intel and gear we can supply you with." Greer sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, as if staving off a headache. "Best case, by then ARES has approved our request and we will be able to set up an air-drop into the park proper. If not, we will be sending you in with an HRT escort. They will divert at the entrance and you will continue in on foot."
Greer stands and slips three credsticks from his pocket, moving slowly so as not to startle. He once again eyes Mr. Morn. "For the three of you, half up front in certified cred. For you, Mr. Morn, Bridget will have your Bearer Bonds at the door. Is there anything else before we adjourn?
"Once you arrive in Orlando, you will be picked up by members of the Horizon Orlando Security Division. They will bring you to the tactical center that has been established at the Disney World perimeter. Here you will receive any updated intel and gear we can supply you with." Greer sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, as if staving off a headache. "Best case, by then ARES has approved our request and we will be able to set up an air-drop into the park proper. If not, we will be sending you in with an HRT escort. They will divert at the entrance and you will continue in on foot."
Greer stands and slips three credsticks from his pocket, moving slowly so as not to startle. He once again eyes Mr. Morn. "For the three of you, half up front in certified cred. For you, Mr. Morn, Bridget will have your Bearer Bonds at the door. Is there anything else before we adjourn?
Thank you. Thats all from me.
Beckett accepts the cred stick and once everyone is done follows the secretary out. He heads home to pick up his gear; packing it into, a large for a troll, bag. Still dressed in his suit and with everything secured away he returns to the airfield.
Beckett accepts the cred stick and once everyone is done follows the secretary out. He heads home to pick up his gear; packing it into, a large for a troll, bag. Still dressed in his suit and with everything secured away he returns to the airfield.
With every passing moment the satyr appears to settle down from his previously anxious state. Whatever it was that panicked him, he seems to be dealing with it slowly but surely even if his demeanor still seems to be a bit off. With a nod to Mr. Greer, he leans down and snags his credstick, packing it securely inside his jacket.
"We can run down what we need to run down once we're in the air. See you guys in an hour or so." He makes a kind of shooting gun gesture at the collected runners before turning to leave, though there doesn't seem to be much heart behind it.
"We can run down what we need to run down once we're in the air. See you guys in an hour or so." He makes a kind of shooting gun gesture at the collected runners before turning to leave, though there doesn't seem to be much heart behind it.
The elf considers the runners as they begin to split up, considering exchanging contant information.
Seems a bit against type ... for the "infiltrator" to share contact information. Still, and Heavy Response Team is usually a well organized team. We barely know each other's names. Maybe if it were just one or two, but seven people ... we'll need a full team.
The elf quickly runs scans for any public or private PANS on the runners, running his own ID in public, and shoots a text contact request to each.
<<<<<@ Team [MrMorn/Ambar] Contact Info - #(206) 635-1459. See you on the plane. >>>>
Morn moves out last, watching the Johnson's reaction. He refuses to think of him as anything less than that. If the Johnson has indeed shown his face, they're even more expendable. Especially with the price they've put on their heads.
Maybe I'm being paranoid.
Seems a bit against type ... for the "infiltrator" to share contact information. Still, and Heavy Response Team is usually a well organized team. We barely know each other's names. Maybe if it were just one or two, but seven people ... we'll need a full team.
The elf quickly runs scans for any public or private PANS on the runners, running his own ID in public, and shoots a text contact request to each.
<<<<<@ Team [MrMorn/Ambar] Contact Info - #(206) 635-1459. See you on the plane. >>>>
Morn moves out last, watching the Johnson's reaction. He refuses to think of him as anything less than that. If the Johnson has indeed shown his face, they're even more expendable. Especially with the price they've put on their heads.
Maybe I'm being paranoid.
Greer bows his head slightly and gestures towards the door. "Until then, gentlemen."
Outside the conference room, Bridget stands with an expensive looking Italian satchel. She nods to each of the team members in turn (perhaps smiling a little more then is appropriate at the satyr).
@Morn:
@Scratch:
Outside the conference room, Bridget stands with an expensive looking Italian satchel. She nods to each of the team members in turn (perhaps smiling a little more then is appropriate at the satyr).
@Morn:
[ Spoiler ]
@Scratch:
[ Spoiler ]
Why thank you Ms. Bridgette. Your professionalism is most appreciated. Have a good day.
With a slight bow of the head, the elf walks out, perhaps a bit slower than the others.
This drek is going in the circular file as soon as I'm out of here. Paranoia Pays.
With a slight bow of the head, the elf walks out, perhaps a bit slower than the others.
This drek is going in the circular file as soon as I'm out of here. Paranoia Pays.
With every step, Scratch's mood improves. By the time he makes it to the lobby and sees Bridget standing there, his trademark Smile™ can be found plastered across his face. When he passes by, he leans in and whispers a little something in her ear. He then proceeds to walk backwards towards the elevator, smiling like a fool the entire way while he admires every curve she has to offer. His ability to navigate while doing so is absolutely astonishing.
Once he arrives, he reluctantly turns around after giving her a bit of a wink and pushes the button. He looks to and fro for a moment to see if there's a No Smoking sign out here and, much to his chagrin, there is. However, unable to withstand not having something between his lips any longer, he reaches into his jacket, pulls out a matchbox, and slips one of the blue-tipped sticks between his teeth to chew on.
While waiting for his ride, Scratch notices the elf from earlier shimming up next to him. The satyr turns and gives him a casual look-over. "Hey man. Morn, right?" He holds out a friendly hand. "I gotta ask you. Why were you so insistent on those bond thingamabobs? Got yourself an investment banker or somethin'?"
Once he arrives, he reluctantly turns around after giving her a bit of a wink and pushes the button. He looks to and fro for a moment to see if there's a No Smoking sign out here and, much to his chagrin, there is. However, unable to withstand not having something between his lips any longer, he reaches into his jacket, pulls out a matchbox, and slips one of the blue-tipped sticks between his teeth to chew on.
While waiting for his ride, Scratch notices the elf from earlier shimming up next to him. The satyr turns and gives him a casual look-over. "Hey man. Morn, right?" He holds out a friendly hand. "I gotta ask you. Why were you so insistent on those bond thingamabobs? Got yourself an investment banker or somethin'?"
[ Spoiler ]
The elf turns to the satyr, amused for a moment about how "magical kingdom" it must seem to have an elf and a satyr in an elevator together. He shakes his hand with his own gloved mit.
Um... yes actually. He told me too look after my own interests.
He pauses for a moment, eventually realizing that either the satyr didn't get his joke, or did, and realized that he would only have made them both dumber for having laughed at it. - akward silence.
You know ... you and I ... we're probably the the kind of bad joke told at Humanis meetings. 'So a satyr and an elf get into an elevator at a Horizon Building...
Lame...
Um... yes actually. He told me too look after my own interests.
He pauses for a moment, eventually realizing that either the satyr didn't get his joke, or did, and realized that he would only have made them both dumber for having laughed at it. - akward silence.
You know ... you and I ... we're probably the the kind of bad joke told at Humanis meetings. 'So a satyr and an elf get into an elevator at a Horizon Building...
Lame...
Scratch just stares into Morn's eyes as he tells his first joke. During the pause, he performs sort of a sucking action on one of his back teeth before breaking the wonderfully awkward silence. "That was pretty bad." When he follows up with his next attempt, the satyr can't help but let a single laugh break free. "Okay, I stand corrected. That one was pretty bad."
Before he could continue, however, a gentle DING! interrupted the conversation as the elevator doors open.
Stepping inside the otherwise empty lift, Scratch punches the button for the parking garage once Morn joins him. If he spots anyone else approaching, he'll hold the door open for them, too.
"If nothing else, this'll be one hell of a job, neh? Nice t'meet you guys, by the way."
Before he could continue, however, a gentle DING! interrupted the conversation as the elevator doors open.
Stepping inside the otherwise empty lift, Scratch punches the button for the parking garage once Morn joins him. If he spots anyone else approaching, he'll hold the door open for them, too.
"If nothing else, this'll be one hell of a job, neh? Nice t'meet you guys, by the way."
Uh.... yeah. You too. This should be .... really something. I mean ... free tickets, right?*Grin*
Oh great.
Pan in Public Mode
Oh great.
Pan in Public Mode
[ Spoiler ]
)
After stepping into the lift, Cadbury -- Scratch's pocket secretary... err, "agent" -- materializes as a refined English butler in his AR display.
"Good evening, sir. You have been contacted twice now for acceptance into [Darian Morn aka Day-Morn yo!]'s p2.0 network. How shall I respond?"
"Uh, whatever. Accept. Quit asking me about that crap. You know how I feel about that social networking bullshit."
"Very good, sir."
In addition to accepting the invitation, Cadbury transmits one on his master's behalf as well. Unfortunately, the associated profile isn't quite up to snuff.
"Good evening, sir. You have been contacted twice now for acceptance into [Darian Morn aka Day-Morn yo!]'s p2.0 network. How shall I respond?"
"Uh, whatever. Accept. Quit asking me about that crap. You know how I feel about that social networking bullshit."
"Very good, sir."
In addition to accepting the invitation, Cadbury transmits one on his master's behalf as well. Unfortunately, the associated profile isn't quite up to snuff.
[ Spoiler ]
Jack watches the conversation between the men in silence. He seems to be quieter then in the meeting. With his arms folded he leans against the wall counting down the floors. When it reaches the lobby Jack steps out of the elevator and waves off his team.
Nice to meet you guys. See you on the plane.
Gotta drop in on Maddame Latvia. Get an idea of what to expect here. Hope she doesn't go on with that demon talk.
Jack heads out the door and down the street.
Nice to meet you guys. See you on the plane.
Gotta drop in on Maddame Latvia. Get an idea of what to expect here. Hope she doesn't go on with that demon talk.
Jack heads out the door and down the street.
The trip down to ground floor is uneventful, except for the inclusion of a well-dressed Pixie on the sixteenth floor who looks more then a little out of place. She quickly departs at the next available stop, looking over her shoulder and flying straight into a man carrying a tray of coffee. The elevator doors close just as the argument over spilt coffee begins.
Stepping out into the gray haze outside, an AR alert "dings". Metroplex Weather Watch Alert: Acidity of Rain Exceeds Maximum Safety Level. Older metahumans and children are recommended to stay inside. If you must go outside today, may we recommend ArmorAll Acid Rain Protectant™. ArmorAll™: Turning Bad Weather Into Good Fun! Legal Disclaimer: ArmorAll should not be used on leather, synthetic fabrics or children.
@Beckett:
@Jack:
@Scratch:
Stepping out into the gray haze outside, an AR alert "dings". Metroplex Weather Watch Alert: Acidity of Rain Exceeds Maximum Safety Level. Older metahumans and children are recommended to stay inside. If you must go outside today, may we recommend ArmorAll Acid Rain Protectant™. ArmorAll™: Turning Bad Weather Into Good Fun! Legal Disclaimer: ArmorAll should not be used on leather, synthetic fabrics or children.
@Beckett:
[ Spoiler ]
@Jack:
[ Spoiler ]
@Scratch:
[ Spoiler ]
Beckett slowly walked over to the hanger in question looking around the airfield. He looks to see if anyone comes forward otherwise he queries the nearest person.
Excuse me I'm looking for Mr Dunne, could you tell me where I could find him.
Excuse me I'm looking for Mr Dunne, could you tell me where I could find him.
[ Spoiler ]
Guess I'm goin into this blind.
With that Jack leaves her a message telling her that he stopped by and hopes everything is well, pinned to her sign, and leaves for home to gather his things. And then head to the air field.
With that Jack leaves her a message telling her that he stopped by and hopes everything is well, pinned to her sign, and leaves for home to gather his things. And then head to the air field.
[ Spoiler ]
Scratch doesn't seem to mind the rain as he makes his way to Black Betty -- his beloved off-road SUV. The acid seems to just slosh right off his clothing, hinting that he has already invested in a coat of ArmorAll™.
Once securely inside, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pack of Red Apples. He taps out a single cigarette and lights it up, taking a moment to just sit there and enjoy the sensation. With a long, slow exhale he asks Betty to take him to the fastfood cafe so he can pick up his order, then spins his seat around so he can access the shielded smuggling compartment in the back. He takes the opportunity to change his clothes while he packs up his weapons and other gear.
Half an hour later, he again finds himself in the rain, helping Atomix and Voodoo load up the truck. He plucks the credstick he picked up earlier from his pocket, uses the thumbwheel to scroll to a cool 70k¥, and slots it in their register. A couple of handshakes later, and he's back on the road with Betty driving him to the private airstrip at SeaTac.
The satyr sits comfortably, listening to DJ Tryste's pirate station as he enjoys another smoke. When she goes live, he takes the opportunity to call her, knowing full well that it's going to go to voicemail. He pulls out his commlink and uses it like a cellphone -- a habit he's yet to break despite the innovations of the last decade.
"Hey darlin'," he begins with a somber voice. "Know that job you set me up with today? Well, it's pretty big. Remember how we used to talk about that one time with the thing back when? Yeah, that kinda big. Anyway, I'm going to be out of the country for a while. Not sure how long, but probably a couple of weeks at least. You know you can crash at my doss as much as you want, and if you can make sure everything is running smoothly while I'm gone, that'd be great, too. I'll be leaving Betty parked at SeaTac, but... if anything happens to me... well, you know."
He pauses for a moment. It's clear that he's trying to find the right words to express what he needs to say.
"But, yeah. Okay, I know you hate this mushy drek, but I really need you to know that you mean the world to me and that I love you. So you'll just have to deal with that. I'll be out of touch until I get back, but I'll be thinking about you the entire time. Take care of yourself, ma cherie."
With another pause, he saves the message and hangs up. Only the music from the radio and the pounding of the rain interupts the silence for the rest of the journey.
Jack arrives at the airfeild and hunts down the plane he's supposed to get on. Upon arrival:
You Dunne?
You Dunne?
The drive from the Metroplex proper out to SeaTac West is relatively uneventful. There is one heart-stopping moment when a group of black racing bikes roar past you, the riders each carrying chains and bats... looking for all the world like some post-Apocalyptic Hells Angels. Thankfully, they pay no mind to you, tearing down the 5 until they disappear.
@Scratch:
The airfield itself is privately owned, a large sign designating it as part of "Bunyip Aviation & Aerospace". An electrified perimeter fence circles a good 6 mile radius, encircling a set of three large hangar bays. The center one is open, a sleek silver and white Gulfstream Luxe V half taxied out of the massive doors. At the entrance gate, a man dressed in the uniform of Wolverine Security steps out of his booth, an SMG hanging by its strap at his side.
After giving him the name of Mr. Dunne, he nods and waves you forward. Approaching the tarmac, you are directed into a small parking structure beside the hangar bays by another uniformed security agent. Once parked, you can see a well-dressed elven man emerging from the jet. He waits until all of you have assembled.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am Mr. Dunne." He steps forward shaking hands with the group, a smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you. Since we're all here - and I commend you all on your promptness - I suggest we get this show on the road... well, figuratively speaking of course. Another flash of smile as he gestures towards the plane. "I've taken the liberty of ordering lunch based on your individual personal profile selections. I hope everything is to your liking." Another smile.
@Beckett:
@Scratch:
[ Spoiler ]
The airfield itself is privately owned, a large sign designating it as part of "Bunyip Aviation & Aerospace". An electrified perimeter fence circles a good 6 mile radius, encircling a set of three large hangar bays. The center one is open, a sleek silver and white Gulfstream Luxe V half taxied out of the massive doors. At the entrance gate, a man dressed in the uniform of Wolverine Security steps out of his booth, an SMG hanging by its strap at his side.
After giving him the name of Mr. Dunne, he nods and waves you forward. Approaching the tarmac, you are directed into a small parking structure beside the hangar bays by another uniformed security agent. Once parked, you can see a well-dressed elven man emerging from the jet. He waits until all of you have assembled.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am Mr. Dunne." He steps forward shaking hands with the group, a smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you. Since we're all here - and I commend you all on your promptness - I suggest we get this show on the road... well, figuratively speaking of course. Another flash of smile as he gestures towards the plane. "I've taken the liberty of ordering lunch based on your individual personal profile selections. I hope everything is to your liking." Another smile.
@Beckett:
[ Spoiler ]
Jack walks to board the plane.
Great, I'm starving. I could use a nap too. Anyone else catch the Brawl last night? I heard Titan had an amazing match against the Troll Killers.
Great, I'm starving. I could use a nap too. Anyone else catch the Brawl last night? I heard Titan had an amazing match against the Troll Killers.
Beckett follows Jack onto the plane, finding the nearest chair he fits into, be it troll sized or couple seats next to each other big enough. He carefully places his large bag on the floor nearby.
No I did not. Not my thing to be honest.
Cucumber sandwiches, scones and tea, don't get more British than this.
Beckett digs into the food provided.
No I did not. Not my thing to be honest.
Cucumber sandwiches, scones and tea, don't get more British than this.
Beckett digs into the food provided.
Scratch makes it to the airfield with only about five mnutes left on the clock. When he emerges from his SUV, he's dressed in a simple black muscle shirt, a custom leather weapons harness, and a black dufflebag slung across his back. He's also carrying two more of those same bags, each loaded to the brim with God only knows what. Despite their obvious weight, his now obviously cybernetic arms are carrying them as if they were all but nonexistant.
As he approaches the jet, Scratch flashes a friendly smile at the waiting elf. Simultaneously, his SUV leaves the premises to find a shady area in the parking lot to await her owner's return.
"Dunne, I take it?" He shifts both bags to his left hand so he can shake. "Sorry I'm cutitng it so close, man. Had to pick some drek up first."
Without further ado, he spits out his smoke and stamps a hoof over it to extinguish it. Then, after a quick rebalancing of his load, the satyr dances up the stairs and lets a deep, low whistle escape his lips as he gets a good look at the interior. "Damn, these fraggers are bringing out all the stops."
He finds a seat with a table large enough to work on and plops his fuzzy ass down in it after stuffing his bags underneath. Seeing everyone else already onboard, he just smiles again. "S'up?"
As he approaches the jet, Scratch flashes a friendly smile at the waiting elf. Simultaneously, his SUV leaves the premises to find a shady area in the parking lot to await her owner's return.
"Dunne, I take it?" He shifts both bags to his left hand so he can shake. "Sorry I'm cutitng it so close, man. Had to pick some drek up first."
Without further ado, he spits out his smoke and stamps a hoof over it to extinguish it. Then, after a quick rebalancing of his load, the satyr dances up the stairs and lets a deep, low whistle escape his lips as he gets a good look at the interior. "Damn, these fraggers are bringing out all the stops."
He finds a seat with a table large enough to work on and plops his fuzzy ass down in it after stuffing his bags underneath. Seeing everyone else already onboard, he just smiles again. "S'up?"
Jack waves as he stuffs his mouth with the super deluxe double bacon with extra bacon extra cheese burger.
Ohmagud..Thif if amafing. Jack nearly chokes as he tries to speak. He's never been happier with a near death expeirience.
Ohmagud..Thif if amafing. Jack nearly chokes as he tries to speak. He's never been happier with a near death expeirience.
Scratch looks over at the loudmouthed braggart and just stares for a moment. "Okay, that does looks pretty damn good. They got another one around here?" The goat glances around, trying to find one to snag for himself.
Figuring the burger is big enough, Jack tears the un eaten portion in half and offers it to Scratch.
Taking a big swallow so he can speak.
I cant keep this bit of heaven to myself in good concience. Here, try it.
Taking a big swallow so he can speak.
I cant keep this bit of heaven to myself in good concience. Here, try it.
Sitting quietly near the back, likely unnnoticed by the others, the elf munches quietly on a grilled cheese sandwich.
This is surprisingly good for cheese and bread. This place though, this set up, reminds me far too much of a Last Supper before execution.
Deciding that he's being far to sterotypical, both for his profession, and metatype , Morn makes his way forward into the cabin, where he finds a strange bonding ritual between man and beast taking place as Jack hands the satyr part of his food.
Oh ... sorry .... didn't realize I was interrupting .... something.
This is surprisingly good for cheese and bread. This place though, this set up, reminds me far too much of a Last Supper before execution.
Deciding that he's being far to sterotypical, both for his profession, and metatype , Morn makes his way forward into the cabin, where he finds a strange bonding ritual between man and beast taking place as Jack hands the satyr part of his food.
Oh ... sorry .... didn't realize I was interrupting .... something.
Jack notices the elf and appears just as excited.
Oh hey! Its you. Here, try this. Phe-nominal.
Jack hands him the other part of the burger.
Oh hey! Its you. Here, try this. Phe-nominal.
Jack hands him the other part of the burger.
Onboard the jet, "efficient luxury" seems to be what the makers had in mind. The main cabin stretches back a good 60 feet, revealing double rows of white leather clad seats. Small walnut paneled tables separate the pairings, giving just enough elbow and leg room to be spacious. Towards the rear of the plane, one long, low couch offers a sumptuous seat for a troll or orc... or perhaps just a sprawling human/elf. The lighting is incandescent, casting everything in a rich glow. A walnut and pine paneled wall, inlaid with the Horizon logo, bisects the plane at the tail end. A narrow door in the wall, stands ajar, revealing a glimpse of white tile and chrome.
(For those who do better w/visuals: Exterior & Interior)
Inside, one of the tables is spread with a veritable buffet. Foodstuffs that look specifically chosen have been laid out side by side: the perfect English luncheon (complete with tea service), a double meat double bacon cheeseburger and fries from Ninja Burger, three grilled cheese sandwiches and a Diet Coke, and a platter of chicken-fried steak w/mashed potatoes and cornbread. Several bottles of water are chilling in a nearby cooler along with a fifth of Jack and a bottle of Jamison.
Dunne steps inside, the stairs rising up behind him. There's a momentary alarm as the group realizes that Mr. Morn isn't there yet. That is, until Morn takes a sip from his Diet Coke. His tweed beige suit blends in startlingly well with the cream leather behind him.
Dunne clears his throat, politely calling for attention. "Thank you all for being able to get here so quickly. Now, if you will all please take a seat and settle in... I will get us under way. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me using the AR Call Button located here." Dunne motions to a bright red button glowing faintly on the AR above each seat. He smiles and nods before disappearing behind the heavily fortified door at the front of the plane. A moment later, the engines purr to life.
Beneath them, the flooring rez's for a moment before seeming to disappear altogether. The sight is vertigo-inducing. Instead of the cream and tan carpeting that was there before, the group finds themselves watching the tarmac beneath them begin to crawl past as the plane taxies out onto the runway.
Dunne's voice comes over the intercom system, "Feel free to disengage the Scene-a-Scope. It's a feature on all Horizon jets... however, not for the faint of heart."
(For those who do better w/visuals: Exterior & Interior)
Inside, one of the tables is spread with a veritable buffet. Foodstuffs that look specifically chosen have been laid out side by side: the perfect English luncheon (complete with tea service), a double meat double bacon cheeseburger and fries from Ninja Burger, three grilled cheese sandwiches and a Diet Coke, and a platter of chicken-fried steak w/mashed potatoes and cornbread. Several bottles of water are chilling in a nearby cooler along with a fifth of Jack and a bottle of Jamison.
Dunne steps inside, the stairs rising up behind him. There's a momentary alarm as the group realizes that Mr. Morn isn't there yet. That is, until Morn takes a sip from his Diet Coke. His tweed beige suit blends in startlingly well with the cream leather behind him.
Dunne clears his throat, politely calling for attention. "Thank you all for being able to get here so quickly. Now, if you will all please take a seat and settle in... I will get us under way. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me using the AR Call Button located here." Dunne motions to a bright red button glowing faintly on the AR above each seat. He smiles and nods before disappearing behind the heavily fortified door at the front of the plane. A moment later, the engines purr to life.
Beneath them, the flooring rez's for a moment before seeming to disappear altogether. The sight is vertigo-inducing. Instead of the cream and tan carpeting that was there before, the group finds themselves watching the tarmac beneath them begin to crawl past as the plane taxies out onto the runway.
Dunne's voice comes over the intercom system, "Feel free to disengage the Scene-a-Scope. It's a feature on all Horizon jets... however, not for the faint of heart."
Morn takes the oppurtunity to stare at the floor rather than enjoy Jake's A.B.C. food, but without actually refusing.
With his mouth still full of Jack's burger, Scratch's augmented nose finally catches a whiff of cornbread. Following the aromatic trail while being overwhelmed by memories of his childhood, he comes across the platter of chicken-fried steak. "Well hello there." Plucking the entire platter up, he returns to his seat and digs in. After a few bites, the gotta-eat-it-all urge dissipates. Looking up at his new crew, he decides to break the ice and get down to some business.
"I guess now is as good a time as any to get to know one another and figure out what we're all bringing to the table." He washes down his last bite of cornbread with a shot of Jameson. "You probably caught it back at the meet, but in case you didn't, the name's Ol' Scratch. I'm pretty much a pro at getting my ass kicked and kicking some ass in return; basically doing whatever the frag I can to keep everyone else up and running while they take care of the real drek. How 'bout the rest of you?"
Sinking back into his chair, the 'beast' returns to filling his belly with comfort food while listening to everything the others have to say.
"I guess now is as good a time as any to get to know one another and figure out what we're all bringing to the table." He washes down his last bite of cornbread with a shot of Jameson. "You probably caught it back at the meet, but in case you didn't, the name's Ol' Scratch. I'm pretty much a pro at getting my ass kicked and kicking some ass in return; basically doing whatever the frag I can to keep everyone else up and running while they take care of the real drek. How 'bout the rest of you?"
Sinking back into his chair, the 'beast' returns to filling his belly with comfort food while listening to everything the others have to say.
He holds out the burger for a moment longer, shaking it a little to add to the splendor. When Morn doesnt accept, Jack just shrugs.
Suit yourself
Jack chews his food while he speaks.
Ol' Scratch? You mean like Satan?
Suit yourself
Jack chews his food while he speaks.
Ol' Scratch? You mean like Satan?
Scratch seems to lose his appetite when Jack speaks up, disposing of his platter of food on the nearby table.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Yeah, something like that."
Jack gives a half grin and slaps Scratch on the arm.
Well, might have more in common then we thought
He laughs and goes back to eating.
What about you two? Whats you're angle? And dont tell me?! Jack points to Morn while he squints and rubs his forehead. Finnally coming to a conclusion:
Motivational Speaker! Right?
Well, might have more in common then we thought
He laughs and goes back to eating.
What about you two? Whats you're angle? And dont tell me?! Jack points to Morn while he squints and rubs his forehead. Finnally coming to a conclusion:
Motivational Speaker! Right?
The elf nods. Slightly.
Yes. And since you seemed so motivated to speak. I must be doing well. Hoping to get a raise soon actually. the market's quite good.
But between speaking jobs, I do a little extra on the side. Moon lighting really. My co workers back at the "motivational Speakers" offices call it 'system intrusion specialist'. I don't have it on my wall yet or anything, but I do have a very nice desk placard.
Yes. And since you seemed so motivated to speak. I must be doing well. Hoping to get a raise soon actually. the market's quite good.
But between speaking jobs, I do a little extra on the side. Moon lighting really. My co workers back at the "motivational Speakers" offices call it 'system intrusion specialist'. I don't have it on my wall yet or anything, but I do have a very nice desk placard.
Aust half-grins and chuckles.
A sense of humor. Im glad. Guess I read you wrong Morn.
A sense of humor. Im glad. Guess I read you wrong Morn.
The elf winks and says is flat monotone That's the idea.
Eventually he sits, enjoying the easy luxury of the plane's accomodations. it won't belong until they're in some weird parody of hell on earth, so it seems like a good time to enjoy the finer things.
I suppose now would be an appropriate time to discuss how we mean to go in to this thing. I for one don't particularly care for the idea of going in with a corp Heavy Response Team. I think we might be better served by letting them make a probing thrust while we come around from a different angle.
Inside, he winces at his choice of words, dreading how Jack is going to twist them into something profane.
Eventually he sits, enjoying the easy luxury of the plane's accomodations. it won't belong until they're in some weird parody of hell on earth, so it seems like a good time to enjoy the finer things.
I suppose now would be an appropriate time to discuss how we mean to go in to this thing. I for one don't particularly care for the idea of going in with a corp Heavy Response Team. I think we might be better served by letting them make a probing thrust while we come around from a different angle.
Inside, he winces at his choice of words, dreading how Jack is going to twist them into something profane.
"Hey, glad you brought that up." Scratch interjects before Jack can get a word in edgewise. He reaches down and unclips his commlink -- a total custom job with a slick black casing that's clearly been modded out the ass -- and sets it on the table face up. He slides a panel open, and a moment later a fully detailed and 3D-enhanced version of the mapsofts everyone was given is suddenly displayed in front of him, courtesy of a holo projector and a top-of-the-line orientation system.
"I was looking this drek over on the ride here, and I think I found a relatively weak spot between Space Mountain and the Toon Town Fair." Using his hands -- Jesus, how old school is this guy? -- he highlights the area and zooms in, bringing the vulnerable area into focus.
"It's mostly forest with a creek running through here," he gestures, spinning in the map around and into a first-person view, "and if I'm not mistaking, the only thing that would be separating us from the park is this flimsy looking chain-link fence and some barbed wire. I'm sure there's a bunch of cameras and maybe a security drone or two, but those should be easy enough to sneak past, yeah?
"So anyway," he concludes as he 'lifts' up the image and plants it even more firmly in the middle of the group, "that seems like our best bet. Assuming, of course, that HTR team you mentioned hasn't secured some other point of entry.
"What do you cats think?"
"I was looking this drek over on the ride here, and I think I found a relatively weak spot between Space Mountain and the Toon Town Fair." Using his hands -- Jesus, how old school is this guy? -- he highlights the area and zooms in, bringing the vulnerable area into focus.
"It's mostly forest with a creek running through here," he gestures, spinning in the map around and into a first-person view, "and if I'm not mistaking, the only thing that would be separating us from the park is this flimsy looking chain-link fence and some barbed wire. I'm sure there's a bunch of cameras and maybe a security drone or two, but those should be easy enough to sneak past, yeah?
"So anyway," he concludes as he 'lifts' up the image and plants it even more firmly in the middle of the group, "that seems like our best bet. Assuming, of course, that HTR team you mentioned hasn't secured some other point of entry.
"What do you cats think?"
Jack chimes in, having been listening intently.
Absolutely, that sounds like a fantastic idea Scratch, especially when-.......
Jack turns slowly to Morn.
Im sorry, did I just hear you suggest we let them probe and thrust eachother while we get them from another angle?
He looks to Scratch then back to Morn.
What the hell kind of party do you think we signed up for Morning wood?
Absolutely, that sounds like a fantastic idea Scratch, especially when-.......
Jack turns slowly to Morn.
Im sorry, did I just hear you suggest we let them probe and thrust eachother while we get them from another angle?
He looks to Scratch then back to Morn.
What the hell kind of party do you think we signed up for Morning wood?
Scratch sighs but doesn't say a word, trying to stay focused on the conversation at hand.
The elf looks over the layout that Scratch has presented, looking not only at the possible angles of approach, but also coutners to their intrusion. For a few cycles he considers angles of attack and lines of fire, rate of movement, and possibilities for cover and concealment.
The water route could provide us some unique oppurtunities for entry, assuming that everyone is capable of moving submerged for a fair amount of time. My concern is whatever unique defenses "they" might have. Our employer made the obvious connection to the arcology "incident". There were a number of very innovative devices that came out of that, and a giant rampaging animatronic tyrannosaurus rex would certainly fall within that category.
I think the entry point would be good. It might be best however if we followed the path for the water ride and the river, but not actually get in unless we start taking fire. It would make for a good fall back point. Just ... hard to get back out of.
He looks sideways at Jack.
Sneaking in through the river will be like hacking. Go in the back door, hope you don't hit a log. Kind of like anal sex actually.
Completely straight faced.
The water route could provide us some unique oppurtunities for entry, assuming that everyone is capable of moving submerged for a fair amount of time. My concern is whatever unique defenses "they" might have. Our employer made the obvious connection to the arcology "incident". There were a number of very innovative devices that came out of that, and a giant rampaging animatronic tyrannosaurus rex would certainly fall within that category.
I think the entry point would be good. It might be best however if we followed the path for the water ride and the river, but not actually get in unless we start taking fire. It would make for a good fall back point. Just ... hard to get back out of.
He looks sideways at Jack.
Sneaking in through the river will be like hacking. Go in the back door, hope you don't hit a log. Kind of like anal sex actually.
Completely straight faced.
Jack looks suprised for a moment.
Morning Wood? Can we focus on the tast at hand? Not that analogies arent magical. But we're trying to plan our entrance, and while we're at it guys, how bout an escape if shit goes south.
Jack pauses for a second then leans in to Morn.
Not the kind of south your thinking. But I like where your head is at...errr.. Your mind, I mean.
Morning Wood? Can we focus on the tast at hand? Not that analogies arent magical. But we're trying to plan our entrance, and while we're at it guys, how bout an escape if shit goes south.
Jack pauses for a second then leans in to Morn.
Not the kind of south your thinking. But I like where your head is at...errr.. Your mind, I mean.
Scratch ignores the side conversation for now.
"I agree for the most part. But if we take Greer at his word, this amalgamation includes very recent satellite imagery of the region since the shutdown occurred. Of all the areas I had a look at, this one seemed to change the least. Even Deus..." his voice cracks for a moment when he mentions the fel entity "...wasn't able to fully secure the arcology. Considering that the amusement park is an order of magnitude larger, and assuming a similar situation is taking place, it stands to reason that there'd be at least a few chinks in the armor."
Scratch pauses long enough to take another swig of Jamison.
"Otherwise, yeah, that sounds pretty good to me. 'Course, we should have a listen of any plans the Horizon clowns have put together. They prol'ly have more up to date recon than we do."
"I agree for the most part. But if we take Greer at his word, this amalgamation includes very recent satellite imagery of the region since the shutdown occurred. Of all the areas I had a look at, this one seemed to change the least. Even Deus..." his voice cracks for a moment when he mentions the fel entity "...wasn't able to fully secure the arcology. Considering that the amusement park is an order of magnitude larger, and assuming a similar situation is taking place, it stands to reason that there'd be at least a few chinks in the armor."
Scratch pauses long enough to take another swig of Jamison.
"Otherwise, yeah, that sounds pretty good to me. 'Course, we should have a listen of any plans the Horizon clowns have put together. They prol'ly have more up to date recon than we do."
Looking at Jack still, he almost chuckles. "Taste" at hand, Jack? Who's mind is where now?
You're right, I believe, Scratch. Time is on our side here, but it's also a perishable commodity. There has to be some sort of reason guiding this. If it was a random system glitch or soemthing, there's no way the Death Dinos could have coordinated that attack so well. Not to mention the sniper shots that took the body guards. They will have to rush to cover up the holes in their security as quickly as possible. We can sneak in through those holes.
As for getting out .... I suggest we steal the bumper cars and hook up car batteries to them, lace them with explosives, and a remote control rig.
The park will certainly have vehicles available. Taking one should be a high priority. We should also see what they have for perimeter security at the gates. If they have hardened security gates or pop up bollards, we could have a problem. We could also look at taking the monorail, but then we run the risk of being attacked by flying monkeys.
Morn prays that he can manage it all with a straight face. He's not quite sure if he's taking it seriously.
You're right, I believe, Scratch. Time is on our side here, but it's also a perishable commodity. There has to be some sort of reason guiding this. If it was a random system glitch or soemthing, there's no way the Death Dinos could have coordinated that attack so well. Not to mention the sniper shots that took the body guards. They will have to rush to cover up the holes in their security as quickly as possible. We can sneak in through those holes.
As for getting out .... I suggest we steal the bumper cars and hook up car batteries to them, lace them with explosives, and a remote control rig.
The park will certainly have vehicles available. Taking one should be a high priority. We should also see what they have for perimeter security at the gates. If they have hardened security gates or pop up bollards, we could have a problem. We could also look at taking the monorail, but then we run the risk of being attacked by flying monkeys.
Morn prays that he can manage it all with a straight face. He's not quite sure if he's taking it seriously.
Beckett looks up from his lunch.
Ah down to business already I see
He seats himself down on the floor near the table seeing as there are no chairs large enough nearby.
I don't see getting in as the issue, between the HRT and any magical and spirit cover I can provide, with Mr Morn's skills I'm fairly certain getting in is the least of our troubles. It's what is inside that's going to hurt. Almost everything inside there is probably going to be hostile or an innocent civilian, if any are left. We're going to have to be carefull if there are civilians, if they see us they are going to want to tag along and try escape with us. This could bring in more trouble. I'll say now I'm not up for slaughtering innocents.
The tunnels provide the easiest form of access throughout the park, so an entry either into the tunnels directly or as nearby to one of the secret entertances could be good. Of course what's good for us in this case is also good for whoever else is in there. I think a good starting point would be to identify all the obvious hiding places, starting around the resturant where they were last seen, and then try plot a route between them.
Beckett stops himself before starting the next sentence.
Sorry I get onto a thought track and tend to just rattle it off as I go.
Ah down to business already I see
He seats himself down on the floor near the table seeing as there are no chairs large enough nearby.
I don't see getting in as the issue, between the HRT and any magical and spirit cover I can provide, with Mr Morn's skills I'm fairly certain getting in is the least of our troubles. It's what is inside that's going to hurt. Almost everything inside there is probably going to be hostile or an innocent civilian, if any are left. We're going to have to be carefull if there are civilians, if they see us they are going to want to tag along and try escape with us. This could bring in more trouble. I'll say now I'm not up for slaughtering innocents.
The tunnels provide the easiest form of access throughout the park, so an entry either into the tunnels directly or as nearby to one of the secret entertances could be good. Of course what's good for us in this case is also good for whoever else is in there. I think a good starting point would be to identify all the obvious hiding places, starting around the resturant where they were last seen, and then try plot a route between them.
Beckett stops himself before starting the next sentence.
Sorry I get onto a thought track and tend to just rattle it off as I go.
"Sounds good to me, and I got the 'splosives covered. And yeah, no way any of us are taking out civilians. Need to double check all our targets no matter what, and do whatever we can to help them get out alive." His voice grows suddenly grave after Beckett mentions that. "But, yeah, there's no way I'm getting in anything that's got a rigger thingamajigger in it. Any of you guys know how to check for one, or strip one out if the need arises? Still trying to get a handle on just what kind of a skillset we have available."
"Muscle," he thumbs at himself, then points at Morn, "Techie, and finally Beckett, "Mage." He turns and looks at the one guy he's been trying to ignore for the last few minutes. "Whatcha got under the hood?"
"Muscle," he thumbs at himself, then points at Morn, "Techie, and finally Beckett, "Mage." He turns and looks at the one guy he's been trying to ignore for the last few minutes. "Whatcha got under the hood?"
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