The Intrusion

[Skyburn]

((Forgive me if I make a few mistakes; I don't quite know the definitions of the roleplaying rules; bunnying, for example. However, I do follow a different, much more lengthy set of rules (Called the "Anti-Munch Project", www.gaiaonline.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=12151073&page=1 ) in the forum I'm common to, so I'm sure that some of those overlap, just with different names.))

- Hail rolled under the last fence. He sheathed the cutters in a pocket in his jeans, and turned back towards the fence. The seventeen year old boy lifted once more, pulling a bundle through. Inside the parcel, a trenchcoat, really, were the things he had brought with him. Since it was now the last fence, he opened it up. The first thing for him to don with the trenchcoat itself. Second, a small backpack, containing preserved foods; jerky, crackers, and water, along with several dozen clips of ammunition for his pistol. That came next. His father's nickel-plated pistol, which had been a home-defense weapon once his father had been honorable discharged from the Corps. "United States Marine Corps" stenciled on the side, Hail pocketed the Colt M2109 .45 caseless pistol. Next came the other gift from his father, passed down in his death. A saber, also Marine Corps Dress Uniform issue, with the same words stenciled, and intricate designs along the forte and feeble. An improvised leather sheath already hung at his waist, attached to his belt. As a fencer, he knew the importance of blade-care, which was why he had a bottle of WD-40 in his backpack, which sat next to an already worn bible. Except for the pack, actually a military rucksack, also from his father, everything was concealed under the coat.

- The teen stood, still facing the fence. His hand went to a cloth, white in color. He wondered if some poor soul had gotten snagged, but then noticed that it was tied in place. Perhaps this was a signature of one of the "tribes" the news had talked about. "Lord, I'm in your hands." Hail wasn't one of those ultra-religious nuts holovangelists one saw; those gave a bad rap to his faith. However, Hail still believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and had faith in God. He mouthed a silent prayer for a minute as he walked, looking for any sign of life. Hail Briggs strode steadily amoungst the rubble, down the streets. He knew that it probably wasn't wise seeking these tribes, but he desired human companionship. In the world, that had been lost, so he came here, with those he could connect with.

[Skyburn]

- Hail sat down on a bench on the sidewalk. He slung his rucksack off of his shoulder, opening the flap at the top. Taking out a strip of beef jerky, he chewed on the dry meat, pondering what he was supposed to be doing. Looking for food? Finding others? Making shelter? He knew how to make jerky... Hail wondered what rat-jerky tasted like. He'd seen a few so far, and one could make a trap easily with what you could find in the city. For all he knew, he could find a rat trap in one of the stores. Hail wasn't so fond of getting a dog just yet - the rat idea was still taboo for someone so new to New Pork- , but logic told him that would change in a month. After polishing off the jerky, he washed it down with a couple of crackers, which he followed with a swig of water from one of the water bottles.

- Once finished with his small meal, he pressed on futher into what once appeared to be a ghetto. It made no difference, the whole city looked like a ghetto now. Hail Briggs looked about for life. None right now. He didn't want to meet the wrong person in a dark alley. Perhaps he could be that person. Hail clung to the shadows as he walked, staying close to the buildings.

[Seraphim]

Reason liked to walk, partly because it cleared her mind and partly because if she got tired enough, it tore her mind away from other things. But after several months in New Pork, having to walk or run anywhere, it took a very long walk to tire her out, and thoughts of Seraphim and the Vampires were still circling in her mind. Of course, she had one hand on her airgun in its holster, but that was just habit now – she hardly expected any non-Cigarettes to come past the border. Perhaps Swart or Casanova, one of the mercenaries, but they weren’t a threat unless you underpaid them – and even then, she was sure she would see them coming.

Reason kicked a broken bottle off the road, her skirts coming just short of the dirty street. Her broad-rimmed hat pulled over her face and her crimson-tinted greatcoat sweeping behind her, you could hardly mistake her for anyone other than who she was. As Serenity had been recognizable for her white, Reason was known for her red. It didn’t help camouflage, but she hardly ever left the safety of the Ghetto, these days.

The bottle rolled to a halt in the shadows of a somewhat collapsed building and Reason continued, thoughts of Seraphim churning in her head. So, the Vampires had him. Of course, Reason knew there must be half a dozen plans to get him back among the Cigarettes and that was why she wasn’t organizing one herself, but it still made her jumpy to think of Seraphim and any Vampire in close quarters. That would be blood, and a lot of it.

[Skyburn]

- Hail spun as he heard the hollow sound of a rolling bottle. At the present moment, he was walking between two buildings, a task made harder by the fact that concrete scattered the alleyway from the collapsed one, which, when it had fell, damaged the other, creating a gapping hole. He was still not two feet into the alley when he had heard that bottle. It made a "chink" sound when it had hit a small pebble, right near his foot. Bottles didn't just roll on their own. It hadn't yet become instinct for his hand to go to the sheathed sword, but through a process of logic, his right hand crossed his body to his left hip, gripping the Marine Corps issue saber, with his father's name engraved on the hilt. He peeked out of the alley. He didn't see anyone yet. "Who's there?" Hail yelled. Seconds later, he realized that could have been a fatal mistake, but he wasn't used to these circumstances, and as he drew his head back, he hoped he'd get mercy or a lucky break this time. Hail looked out once more, leaning his body so he could move his head out further. A girl, teenager, garbed in faded red that still retained some brilliance, stood several dozen yards or so away. His hand was still on the golden and black saber hilt. People had to earn his trust. Only a sliver of the golden hilt would be able to be seen, the rest, sheath included under his trenchcoat."Hello?"

[Seraphim]

Talking about blood, eh?

Reason’s airgun was in her hands, pointed sideways at the alleyway. Her breathing picked up and she startled. She didn’t recognize the voice, which meant someone not of the Cigarettes. Which, in the most primitive way, meant enemy. Reason swore under her breath, her grip on the gun handle becoming white-knuckled. She fingered the trigger, knowing that at this range and with no idea what she was aiming for, she could do little damage with her pellets. Maybe she could scare them off with a few rounds. She flicked the hammer and swallowed.

“Reason,” she replied. Anyone of the tribes would recognize that name, anyone not would wonder who in hell’s name called their kid ‘Reason’. Reason wondered that herself sometimes, too. “This is Cigarettes Territory – who are you and what do you want?”

[Skyburn]

((EDIT: Sorry if I accidently make the text gigantic. In the forum I'm used to, size 11 is about this size right here, instead of gigantic.))

Hail immediately drew back into the shadows on the sight of the airgun. He couldn't quite tell that it was besides a firearm. His right hand shifted from one him to the other, switching to his Colt .45 M2109, a Caseless pistol, modeled after the M1911 by the same company and caliber. Currently, shown by it's nickel plating and scribing, it was a favorite of the Marines. However, sense it was caseless, it had roughly the power of an Israeli .50 caliber Desert Eagle, but not quite the recoil. However, he didn't draw it yet. 'Reason?' he wondered. 'Who the hell names..'. then he realized the irony. 'Hail' wasn't exactly the norm either. "Hail Briggs. New guy in town."[/color] Though, he wasn't sure what he wanted... he wasn't even sure why he was here. He'd play it safe and avoid the subject for now, though, he'd have to answer up soon or else that wouldn't be playing it safe. "Cigarettes, that one of the ga-... tribes around here?" he corrected himself. Calling them a gang could get him killed, nor was it technically true. He flattened himself against the wall in case this turned into a shootout. [/size]

[Seraphim]

[I’m afraid I know nothing of guns. O.o]

Reason lowered the gun, putting it back in its holster. Her dull red hair fall into her face as she turned, looking for the source of the voice. She wasn’t worried, not now she was fairly sure this was a newbie she was dealing with. Anyone else would have known who the Cigarettes were. Now it was time for the most fun of fun pastimes – convert this newbie to the Cigarettes. Seraphim had threatened, Serenity had talked, and Reason didn’t have the slightest how she was supposed to approach the subject.

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, pulling the rim of her hat up. “That’s us. You gonna come out?”

[Skyburn]

((Normal guns eject a shell casing when firing, because they needed that shell to hold the gunpowder to launch the bullet. Instead of gunpowder, Caseless weapons use propellant; a gas of some kind. Thus, they need no shell. Basically, to restock ammunition, I only need a mold and lead, really hot fire, and some sort of explosive gas. Obviously, not all at the same time.
Because it needs to eject no shell when it fires, a caseless weapon can concentrate all of it's energy on firing the bullet, thus making it more deadly.))

- The gloved hand on the grip of the gun dropped to Hail's side. "Just as long as you don't shoot me." He spoke as he peeked his head out a second to make sure that she didn't have her gun pointed to him, and stepped out, his dark gray trenchcoat wrapped around his body, only showing part of his centerline; a black t-shirt and military forest-fatigue pants. Practically everything he had was a gift from his father or was his father's at some point. Hail walked towards the girl, who appeared to be younger than himself by a year or so. "So, you're... Reason? Is that a nickname or your real name?" He wasn't sure if they had nicknames around here or they went by legal, birth names.

- His eyes glanced over her, not lustfully, rather, sizing her up, trying to see if she had any weapons, scars, et cetera. His eyes stopped on her face. She had several triangles upon it, which appeared to be some sort of tribal markings, possibly rank, but he wasn't sure. Hail was right - this definitely wasn't a gang, it was a tribe just like the media had said. For once, the media was right about something. The girl before him appeared to be no immediate threat, but he'd heard the media talk about some sort of "mutations." Maybe they were right about that to. He'd heard something about empaths. He didn't have a clear definition on that, but he wasn't so sure if he should worry about containing his thoughts.

- A thought struck him. She was out here alone. Why? "Were you looking for something? Or thinking? Or what? Running, hiding, chasing?[/color] It also struck him that he probably shouldn't be asking questions, but maybe she didn't get that.[/size]

[Seraphim]

[*Falls over*]

Reason shrugged. Damn kid was bigger than she was; saber at his belt and not looking like a push-over either. She adjusted her holster without realizing what she was doing, pausing before she spoke. She needed that pause to think – what does one say to a kid who could probably have you on the floor dead in no time flat, while trying to convert him to your cause?

“Thinking, mostly,” she said eventually. “And Reason’s my real name – yeah, I know, which parent calls their kid Reason? Figure dad must’ve been drunk or something,” oh, crud. She was prattling. She felt like stuffing a fist into her mouth to stop herself from blabbering. Why was she prattling? She’d been around some hardcore guys while they were in their destructive moods – Rattlesnake, for one; Seraphim for another. Why was this guy different? Maybe it was the fact that, unlike most of the newbies Reason had seen, he didn’t look like he was all that scared of her for her ‘Feral child’ status.

[Skyburn]

Hail felt safe around her, so he relaxed a little and smiled at her ramblings. Whether that was confidence in his skill or arrogance, he didn't know, though he called it confidence, as he often didn't realize when he was being arrogant. "'Hail' isn't that much better either. Sounds like I was named by some weather-loving hippie on crack. At least you have the drunk dad."[/color] He let his coat drape back over his sheathed sword. As a fencer, rather ex-fencer, he still had that sense of honor practically needed with the sport, which - in his mind -came along with the long dead concept of chivalry.

-With that aside, he wasn't sure what to address. Make friends, or get down to business of survival. The teen decided upon the small-talk. Perhaps, if he joined their tribe, it'd be best to have someone who favored him to make sure he wasn't picked on or anything, or straight out rejected within a day or two. "Care to tell a stranger what you were thinking about?" His deep-blue eyes looked her over once more. They told him she had been here a while with her condition. She looked lean and suprisingly fit, from what he could tell, but hungry as well. Well, he could fix that. Perhaps that was why he had come; as a subconscious need to help, he wondered. Pushing that aside, once more he unslung his olive-green pack. This, he did slowly to seem in-hostile, lest she draw out her weapon again. With two fingers he unfastened the flap, flipping it open. As a sign of kindness, he pulled out a bottle of water and two crackers, offering them to her. He took out one already opened bottle for himself and took a slight drink. Hail wasn't sure how much food she had gotten in the past weeks or months, and so kept his left hand, hidden from sight by the bag itself, clenched tightly to his pack, lest she try to snatch it from him, as most of his food was visible from the top. That bag was his lifeline for the time being. Two lighters plus several stocks of fuel, food, ammunition, and things to satisfy his needs. And one important thing to him, to satisfy his spiritual needs, which few actually recognized as a need - a bible, it's papers and cover barely visible from next to the water and crackers, which shielded the book from the smell of the jerky. Hell, the guy had been a Boy-scout for years, quitting at age twelve, feeling he was too old for it anymore, and still kept to their motto; "Be prepared."[/size]

[Rose Nightwood]

{Seraphim sent me here, lol}

A sixteen year old girl walked solemnly along the cracked road that was part of the ghetto. But a newbie she was, and had chosen this tribe because it was the only one with a decent sense of honor and respect. All the others had seemed so bloodthirsty and brutal, and that was not Rose. No, not at all. The only thing that death and killing did to her was make her sick. She also didn't like physical fighting, so her weapons were very limited, although she did possess them. If you could count a short dagger and her sharp tongue as weapons, then yes, she did carry items of defense with her. Only for defense.

At the moment, the girl wore a flowy, knee length brown skirt and a faded pink tank top. She carried several items in a medium sized backpack, which was also a dark shade of brown. It contained a warm - but not stifling - light pink sweater, an old pair of faded jeans, a few bags of various junk foods, a bottle of water, and a select few personal items that don't need mentioning. There was absolutely nothing within to remind her of her past. No photos, no lockets, no weapons with engravings, nothing. She didn't want to be reminded of it, in fact.

She had loved her mother and father at one point in her life, a deep bond that many other children didn't or don't have. However, it had only lasted as long as she had needed their support. At about age 14, they had split, and the divorce hit her hard, so hard that she finally decided to run away a year ago. She had been out on her own ever since, and had eventually been forced to this place, and joined the Cigarettes.

As she trudged along the road, the run-down buildings seeming to crumble before her very eyes, she noticed two others about thirty feet away. They both appeared to be about her age, from this distance. She decided that they must be friendly, seeing as this was Cigarette turf, and so they must be Cigarettes. Of course, they could have been trespassers... but it was unlikely that both of them were, unless they were in something together...

Rose felt like hitting herself. She was hesitating again. She hated when she did that. It had been inherited from her mother. She had never taken any chances, and so Rose had grown up that way as well. But as she came of age, her rebellious side had surfaced and she was usually not so hesitant anymore, though it did happen sometimes. Such as this situation was.

She walked a bit closer and even though they probably couldn't see, a faint smile formed across her lips. "Hello," she said, her soft British accent lilting as the words passed her lips. A simple but effective greeting. She prayed that these two were friendly.

[Seraphim]

Reason almost laughed at him, although the thought of her father being drunk dampened her thoughts somewhat. But you became very good at reading people, living in New Pork, and the way ‘Hail’ held onto the bag amused her. Of course, food was food was food was worth killing for these days, but she wasn’t about to grab it out of his hands and run screaming like the feral child the media labeled the inhabitants of New York as. Although, she sometimes thought everyone in New York was crazy, if not feral. She waved away his offer of food, having just eaten.

She was trying to put two and two together, but the answer kept coming up on five. He wasn’t like some of the kids here; running unprepared and unready for the tough life, but at the same time, he wasn’t like most of the Vampires – coming to New pork because of the stories they heard. No, then she’d probably be find out just how authentic that sword was, the painful way.

“Well. I suppose you’d have found out soon enough – Seraphim – that’s the Cigarette’s leader – is currently held by another tribe. I’ve been wondering how many of us have already got plans to get him back,” she said, then startled herself silly when Rose spoke. Damnit, what was it that was making her so clumsy today?

Reason knew everyone in the tribe; Rose was new, but she seemed sensible enough. She wouldn’t freak if she saw Hail had no clan markings, would she? Reason hadn’t, and she had cause to be worried. Rose had none; Reason was already here and that had to mean it was safe – right?

[Skyburn]

Hail returned the food to the pouch, closing it again with his own water inside, then pulled it back onto his shoulders. He shrugged a little, and turned to the newcomer. "Hello." Then, back to Reason. "What if I were included in your plans. I mean, it's a long shot, but I could bust them out. I just pretend to be a newcomer to this other tribe and find a way to get them out. You and this girl are the only one who knows that I even exist here right now. Besides, If I'm lucky, I'll be able to fight my way out. I'm agile as hell and can use this sword better than most people can imagine to."[/color] Maybe his ego was showing, but it was true to the fullest. He'd been fencing since the age of 8, so he had nine years of experience behind him and that blade. The gun helped his confidence.[/size]

[Seraphim]

Reason seriously considered it. Her hazel-green eyes ran over him again, and the ticking of the cogs in her brain was almost audible. She hissed, breath whispering through a gap in her teeth as she breathed out. It wouldn’t work. Not against the Vampires, not for someone they wanted to hold onto as badly as they did Seraphim. He’d have to get to the tower, get through the initiation (whatever that was for the Vampires) then get down the lift shafts to the cells and back up again, this time with a probably injured Seraphim.

She shook her head. “The Vampires would shred you. I don’t know how good you are with that thing,” she motioned at the saber, “but the Vampires live in a tower without lifts. They climb through the shafts. They are the most hardcore twats you have ever had to meet, besides that, and I have no idea how long it would take them to trust you.”

“But I know the tribe. Axel or Suzie will probably already be organizing a rescue attempt; drop a few hints around them and they might get you to tag along.”

She didn't even have to ask and he was already as good as offering to join them. Reason wanted to dance a jig.

[Skyburn]

((Ha, I can't tell you how many times I've had to go through elevator shafts in other RPs. Granted, that was with a 6 man NPC Paramilitary team. I always had them destroy the lift in case it was booby-trapped, then repel down the rope.))

"A good thing to remember is that elevator shafts always have emergency ladders. That would make it easier."[/color] His problem solving side was always at work. It combined both parts of his brain into one, despite what health classes told you about boys having their brain connections severed at birth by that testosterone bath. Creativity and logic always worked as a good mix for him. It was something schooling had never brought out, as it didn't stress either, which was a problem with the education system. That was another thing Hail longed for. Fixing problems, whether they be his or someone else's, as long as they were enough of a challenge that he could do it, and not enough of a challenge that he could succeed. Once he knew the layout of the building, he considered himself smart enough to easily think of a raid plan. All that he need to was who he was working with, what resources he had, et cetera. A helicopter would come in handy. "Good luck getting that." However, he wondered how many people had firearms. That would make it go smoother, and with luck, he could pull this off easily. Bombs would be nice, especially if they had some sort of adhesive. Hell, tape could do that. "If you let me help you, could I possibly join the Cigarettes? I'm sure I have a lot to offer." Another thing came to mind that would make his job a lot easier. Something to allow him to fulfill something he always liked the idea of doing: being more of an assassin type. For that he'd need some metal piping of differing size and steel wool. One of those would have to be no smaller than 11 centimeters across, and not much larger than 13 centimeters. Oh, he'd need some fire, too. But that was another story, and once again, his creativity side melding with some practicality and analysis. "By the way, you don't want to know how good I am with this sword."[/size]

[Seraphim]

[haha. You try telling Mina there’s emergency ladders. We’d best wait on Rose.]

“If you were a one-eyed cripple with an IQ of two we’d want you in the tribe,” Reason laughed. “And quite frankly, if you’re as good with the saber as you give the impression, we’d love to have you.” Okay, so that sounded so like brown-nosing that Reason almost blushed – but not quite. She’d been working on keeping her emotions – well, some of them – concealed. Embarrassment was not one of those she wanted on the surface, and she hid it by pulling her hat down over her eyes once more and giving Rose a look.

[Skyburn]

((Mind if I send you my plan via PMs? If I confuse you, I'm sorry. I'm very military-oriented. I'm afraid that, if this plan is used, I'll end up inadvertantly turning the Cigarettes into a Paramilitary team. XD
Don't let that happen.))

Hail couldn't help but give his own laugh. Not a loud one, though, and rather short, followed by a smile. "Thank you. Is there any sort of hazing I need to know about?"[/color] He couldn't quite make out embarassment in her face, but he could tell she was hiding something. Hail didn't mind openness. Often, he spoke his mind. No sense in having a relationship with anyone, whether it be one of hatred or friendship, if it wasn't genuine. Frankly, he was often open enough that he could often offend people and not realize what he had done wrong. "I won't let you down."[/color] He extended his black-gloved right hand, which he had done to allow him a better grip on his weapons and to keep them from getting rubbed raw on his crawl over, out for a handshake.[/size]

[Rose Nightwood]

{Sorry. You two are fast}

Rose watched the two speak of plans and situations in which she had no idea about. She pretended to listen intently, and it truly looked as if she understood every word. Of course, she had not the slightest clue as to what was being said, only that she didn't like all the talk of weapons and conflict. She gave a small sigh, barely audible. Why make yourself known when you're not particularly wanted? She had run away from her troublesome parents to find peace from her life, but now the world was turning out to be much more complicated and much less peaceful than she had thought.

She decided to let them speak to her first, because she wanted to know she could trust them. And anyway, she didn't really like to give the impression that she was outgoing, even though she really was inside. That side of herself was reserved for close friends only. Rose didn't particularly like the way these two sounded so far, but you could never know. Her eyes flashed from the guy to the other girl, waiting to see what they would do next. THey could think whatever they wanted of her; at least she knew that it wasn't the real Rose they knew, but the mask she hid behind. And that was just fine with her.

[Seraphim]

[Plans are good. Feel free.

Uh. Hazing? ]

[Skyburn]

((Initiation. Usually used in terms of fraternities, gangs, et cetera.
Hazing is usually embarassing or painful. For instance, if you have to kill someone to get into a group, it could be considered hazing. Running through a school campus naked, or stealing something, setting your hair on fire, cutting your hand, et cetera. Anything special you must do to enter a group, though usually only used in terms of something you wouldn't normally do, something you don't want to do, to prove that you really want to be in and will be devoted to the group. ))