A pair of solid boots crashed their footsteps into mud and puddles outside in the storm, and it echoed through the door before those steps became frantic against the cobblestone road and up the wooden steps to the tavern. The door would slam open by the force of a shoulder crashing into it before a figure would turn around and throw the door to a close with a pair of gloved hands. Those same hands worked quickly to throw down the large wooden latch to lock it shut before taking a few moments to breath, heavy and fast.
Rubbing the back of his hand across his brow before turning around and leaning against the door, the elf took a few moments to take a breath as his eyes closed by large, circular and colored glasses. His ears lowered a little in pause and respite, almost following up and down rhythmically with his breathing. A small wave from the hand, gloved yet a few fingers as blue as his skin could be seen not covered in the material. Sweat and rain mixed themselves slowly dripping across his face under a featherless and folded wide-brimmed hat. His clothes simply frayed at the edges and well-worn, put through much use to be seen at anyone's first glace.
"Hola," the drow stranger spoke, accent as natural and strange as his way of speaking. His blue eyes scanned the room, flickering onto and past the patrons near the corner of the room, before falling upon the owner of the tavern. A brief pause before standing up straight and fixing the lapels of his coat. The drow coughed into his fist once before standing in a more presentable manner.
"Senorita Stench, you wouldn't happen to have a bottle to go? I could use a-."
Wood splintered and cracked in the blink of an eye before shrapnel of wood flew into the tavern as a large grey fist punched it's way through the side of the door, grasping and grabbing at air before slamming its hand down to grab at someone before reaching for something. The latch. The drow could only turn his head around and yell in surprise at the large fist being where his head use to be at before immediately running towards the counter of the bar.
Large hands the size of a head wrapped around the large crude lock. The latch lifted suddenly to the point of nearly breaking before the door kicked open, splintering the door and cracking it down the middle while one of the hinges snapped loose. The drow leapt and slid across the counter before falling behind it, hiding and pressed up against the side of the counter.
Bending its frame under the doorway before resuming it's full height, far larger and more imposing than Miss Stench or most of the miner ilk, a large, sandy-grey ogre stepped through before sniffing the air around the tavern. As the door swung haphazardly to a whining close, the brute slowly walked around the tavern, casting eyes everywhere.
Footstep after footstep it stalked about the tavern.
The drow kept his breathing quiet. Not moving an inch. Before a choke gasped from his throat. Large fingers wrapped around his throat and head in its entirety before lifting him up from behind the counter. Dangling his legs from the air, the elf desperately clawing at the grip on his neck with one hand as the ogre leaned in and pulled the elf closer.
"Nowhere to run now."
Steam from its very breath buffeting the drow's face, forcing the stranger to close his eyes to the onslaught and nearly blowing his hat off.
The drow grimaced before lifting up a nicked bottle in one hand and smashing it right across the brute's face, straight for the eye. The glass and its contents shattered, searing into the eye with both shards and liquid fire, typically an ogre favorite. Only the sudden whiplash of the air as the ogre lifted him up before swinging and letting go. The drow's body forced to contort midair. All of his limbs flailing.
And heading straight for the pair over in the corner. His body upended midair and his back rapidly flew. He could not see but certainly felt the impact. Several. The brush of shoulder and limb before slamming into a small table as it crumpled under the force and weight before mangling himself in a few feathers. His body almost bounced off the small table before slamming sideways into a wall.
Before falling completely onto his chest, splayed out and groaning in pain as his ears heard the faint ring of metal and wood sliding against one another. His eyes peered up before spotting a small silver bracelet with an emerald jewel fastened on it, markings on its side and, as the fire glowed upon it, it too seemed to glow almost ethereally. He leaned to the side, gritting his teeth and straining before flickering a glance at his satchel. One of the latches for the buckles were undone.
Perfect. Just . . . perfect.
His eyes looked up once more before seeing shards of . . . glass and cards in a mess before him. A confused look followed before his senses fully returned to him. Devoid of his glasses and hat and the fathers above only knew where his scarf was or how it wrapped around his neck now, his limbs and chest ached trying to slowly shift himself in a position to at least try to get up. His hands could still feet his sword and knife strapped to his side, so he was not completely on his ass then.
The drow elf could only look up before a flash of pain followed, bringing his eyes to a near close. The two patrons. Did he-? Peering past them, his eyes widened at a different sight than their fates. The ogre wiped a hand across it's eyes before staring straight down at the three before it's bloodied red eye fell upon the small piece of jewelry. A mix between a smile and a look of irritation followed before it started walking its way over. The ogre growled,
"Anyone touches that, and I'll kill you," the ogre gestured forward, pointing with his hand, "But I will be killing that little elf."
The drow could only groan in response, "Oh, come on. I'm a . . . drow. Eurgh . . . "
One limb stretched out before dragging it back. It only brought him an inch closer to his target.
"I'm too tired for this."
His eyes looked ahead of himself before his forehead fell to the warm floor by the fire and sat there. He just needed a minute to gather his strength. He's had worse landings, right?
. . . right. His head turned to the side before looking towards the other patrons. Maybe his flying stunt bludgeoned them all. He hoped not. He did not need more fights nor the competition. Not today, not ever. A hand tried to lift himself off the ground before another just reached and grasped for something, anything. A wall, a hand, a limb. A dead carcass for all it mattered.
Just something to get himself up and closer to the fireplace.
Last Edit: Apr 30, 2023 23:14:03 GMT by Paperbag Fill
Post by Paperbag Fill on Apr 30, 2023 23:12:16 GMT
Lorem.
"Lorem."
Lorem.
[googlefont=Exo 2]
Perhaps Seven would have chimed in with another remark. Maybe even put his thoughts on the subject at hand. The new guy who spoke in the back, whose gruff voice carried through all others, might even have been liked by Seven for the spoken challenge about the merits of the debate itself. Seven could have even offered a hand to the janitor and used him as an excuse to leave.
But none of that would happen. None of it could happen.
Because two anomalies were about to take a crash course.
"Stop."
The word was alone. It was not together with anything. It did not belong together with anything. It was a singular point, not connected to anything else.
It was very unbecoming.
Stop. Definition: (of an event, action, or process) come to an end; cease to happen. A singular point in this room. Not connected. But it found Seven unbecoming. And unbecame Seven would be. But his luck would not have it. It would not cease to exist. Not now, not yet. If Seven could not be near the point.
Then he will unbecome from that point. Seven paused before completely stopping, frozen. For an instant. Then, for a moment, fading. Before a brief shimmer.
And Seven was no more.A brief flash. Connected routes. A circle of worlds. Colors and sights and sounds rapidly flashing across his body and senses, assaulting every aspect of him. His eyes widened. Where was he-?
A flash of color crossed his vision, slower than the sudden crash of a fully-grown adult body slamming into his torso before the pair began spiraling away from each over. Nursing his stomach, all Seven could do was.
Scream.
"AAAAAAAAAA-! OOMPHF! fu-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
The law of equal and opposite reaction. When something is moved or pushed out of its normal situation, consequences tend to follow. As Seven watched people and sidewalks open before him.
And landing straight in the middle of a bustling metropolis he did not recognize. Eyes widening as he looked up. How--did he get here?
A question that soon followed as a body fell into a dark, closeted space on the other side of the L-14 facility. Cleaners and brooms fell atop the figure as he felt a wetness emanating from his pants. No, he did not pee. He had to remind himself of that. That was the liquid in the bucket he was sitting in. Which may have been equally gross.
Current Status: Alive; Active (Under Disciplinary Review)
General Background
On April 13, 1970, oxygen tank No. 2 blows up on Apollo 13, the third manned lunar landing mission. The normal supply of oxygen, electricity, light, and water had been disrupted, and the landing mission was aborted. The astronauts and controllers on Earth scrambled to come up with emergency procedures to ensure the pilots returned home safely.
That's the cover up story.
The true reason behind the Apollo's failure to reach the moon was not because of a mechanical failure but small space debris rapidly heading its course towards the spacecraft. When the damage on the vessel had been inspected, it had been determined that something else remained hidden along with the debris. The Foundation became notified when preliminary tests on the meteoroid indicated a moving and living mass intent on escaping the fragment of asteroid rock.
Containment measures were put in place and further testing required to ascertain the nature and potential threat this lifeform posed. The entire existence of U-626 became nothing more than a missing page in the records and logs.
However, ACF-626 soon earned his moniker after the Breach incident.
ACF-626. Codename: Vax.
Anomaly Information
stem cellnoun (BIOLOGY) [plural noun: stem cells]
an undifferentiated cell of a multicellular organism which is capable of giving rise to indefinitely more cells of the same type, and from which certain other kinds of cell arise by differentiation.
Last Edit: Jun 12, 2023 2:34:10 GMT by Paperbag Fill
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aenean et tincidunt elit. Nullam blandit rutrum elit, ut ornare augue sollicitudin non. Phasellus sit amet tellus congue, commodo risus sed, elementum libero. Aliquam vitae porttitor quam. Maecenas quis pretium nibh. Maecenas lobortis enim vel efficitur aliquet. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Nunc mattis ligula ligula, ac gravida quam faucibus in. Ut vitae nulla vel nibh dapibus accumsan nec at tortor. Fusce accumsan nibh id sapien pretium convallis. Nunc ligula nulla, accumsan nec auctor sit amet, rhoncus quis sapien. Praesent nec nisi orci. Nunc sed bibendum odio.
"Lorem ipsum. Vestibulum cursus mattis."
Vestibulum cursus tortor non est mattis, nec hendrerit lacus accumsan. Donec sit amet purus a velit pharetra luctus vehicula ac nisl. Curabitur fermentum urna eu ante molestie aliquam. Aliquam rhoncus nisl vitae laoreet laoreet. Donec id arcu tincidunt, consectetur nunc id, dignissim urna. Nunc sodales, risus non auctor volutpat, odio ipsum accumsan dolor, dapibus luctus erat mauris a enim. Donec varius magna lacus. Duis id vestibulum libero, et cursus eros. Cras orci orci, mollis non orci sed, posuere facilisis lectus. Ut faucibus ipsum tortor, quis pharetra mauris lacinia sit amet. Phasellus diam metus, convallis sed lectus quis, finibus dignissim ipsum. Proin cursus a ante commodo viverra. Morbi posuere mauris sapien, ac congue quam feugiat ac. Pellentesque velit magna, porttitor eget efficitur nec, iaculis eget lorem. Proin dictum tincidunt laoreet. Proin quam metus, consequat quis interdum at, porta et tellus.Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aenean et tincidunt elit. Nullam blandit rutrum elit, ut ornare augue sollicitudin non. Phasellus sit amet tellus congue, commodo risus sed, elementum libero. Aliquam vitae porttitor quam. Maecenas quis pretium nibh. Maecenas lobortis enim vel efficitur aliquet. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Nunc mattis ligula ligula, ac gravida quam faucibus in. Ut vitae nulla vel nibh dapibus accumsan nec at tortor. Fusce accumsan nibh id sapien pretium convallis. Nunc ligula nulla, accumsan nec auctor sit amet, rhoncus quis sapien. Praesent nec nisi orci. Nunc sed bibendum odio.
"Lorem ipsum. Vestibulum cursus mattis."
Vestibulum cursus tortor non est mattis, nec hendrerit lacus accumsan. Donec sit amet purus a velit pharetra luctus vehicula ac nisl. Curabitur fermentum urna eu ante molestie aliquam. Aliquam rhoncus nisl vitae laoreet laoreet. Donec id arcu tincidunt, consectetur nunc id, dignissim urna. Nunc sodales, risus non auctor volutpat, odio ipsum accumsan dolor, dapibus luctus erat mauris a enim. Donec varius magna lacus. Duis id vestibulum libero, et cursus eros. Cras orci orci, mollis non orci sed, posuere facilisis lectus. Ut faucibus ipsum tortor, quis pharetra mauris lacinia sit amet. Phasellus diam metus, convallis sed lectus quis, finibus dignissim ipsum. Proin cursus a ante commodo viverra. Morbi posuere mauris sapien, ac congue quam feugiat ac. Pellentesque velit magna, porttitor eget efficitur nec, iaculis eget lorem. Proin dictum tincidunt laoreet. Proin quam metus, consequat quis interdum at, porta et tellus.
Last Edit: Jun 12, 2023 2:12:20 GMT by Paperbag Fill
Current Status: Alive; Active (Under Disciplinary Review)
General Background
During the [REDACTED] incident, the ACF foundation members stormed and ran an assault against a facility building operated and owned by an outside organization that proved to have opposing goals to that of the ACF organization. Upon further investigation into the facility after it was secured, a child had been discovered to be housed in this facility along with anomalous items and entities.
Carrying a metal baseball bat, the nine year old child had been standing over the corpse of [REDACTED] when found. Due to the child not making any aggressive movements or actions against ACF personnel, the child was taken into the custody of the ACF for further examination and investigation, namely to find the potential parents and history behind the child.
After discovering [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] . . . ACF higher ups and, furthermore, the council turned it upon the organization to induct the child and discover any other potential anomalous properties the child may have.
Fast forward several years later, and the best use of the child had been to put him on security personnel duty. Since his status as an anomaly is [REDACTED], the child has been henceforward codenamed ACF-007 but allowed certain privileges due to his more human nature and the specifics of his anomalous abilities.
However, ACF-007 soon earned his moniker after the Breach incident. Seven.
After the breach broke out in 2018, higher-up approval was given for Seven to engage with hostile entities. ACF-007 managed to save several entire divisions at select locations from losing one single personnel individual thanks to his anomalous abilities and intervention.
However, his tendency to dodge foundation supervision as well as visit either restricted or public locations against direct orders and without any authorization has put him at odds with certain staff. Psychological evaluations have also been dodged by him or ACF-007 has proven uncooperative or disinterested in such conversations. Currently his rank has been reduced until further discussion and subsequent investigation can be had about his recent behaviors.
Final consideration will determine if Seven is fit for field work and accompanying privileges and responsibilities.
Current assessment: Tired. (Is this within normal parameters of tired?)
I'm doing just dandy.
Anomaly Information
Lucky Seven. A number considered to bring good luck as opposed to the number 13, which is a sign of bad luck. However, different cultures may switch these meanings around or simply not care for the potential supernatural or superstitious importance of these numbers.
Seven's abilities and anomalous properties are strange, to say the least. His entire biology seems normal and akin to that of a human yet is able to perform physical and mental maneuvers and tasks several times better than any individual. When brought to a tangible number, his physical and mental acuity is seven times greater than a human individual. Despite this, his body displays none of the necessary evolutionary enhancements or drawbacks. Even in spite of an increased metabolic rate, Seven only eats meals slightly more caloric heavy than the average individual but still within normal parameters for his age and size.
A stranger ability is his anomalous aura he projects. A side effect of his first ability ACF-007-A "Seven's Luck". Anyone within a general vicinity of him (measurements of this ability have been consistently a 7 foot radius but have, at times, the effects of the aura been measured up to 700 feet at one time) will experience good luck or good fortune. However, this ability seems to also have a prioritizing effect as it will often assist the individual with the worst set of circumstances or worst luck before the effect "moves on" or affects a larger, less worse-off group at large.
However, this ability comes with an important drawback. Seven will undergo an event or series of events of bad luck. This may range from simple inconveniences to events that may lead to serious bodily harm upon Seven. Even when unconscious, this effects persist and it appears Seven has very limited, if any, control over this aura, whether it be good or bad.
Finally, ACF-007-B "Seven's Gambit" is an anomalous tool, more so classified as a weapon, Seven is allowed to keep on his person at all times. Especially after incident [REDACTED]. Seven's Gambit or ACF-007-B is capable of harming and damaging anomalous, supernatural, or enhanced entities, even so far as to weaken or render inert their abilities, if Seven is unable to harm them in a conventional manner due to those abilities.
It has proven to be only able to render its effects of negating anomalous properties or properties of individuals or objects that are not natural. Therefore, if any individual or item is in its natural state and proves to have abilities stronger than Seven or Seven's Gambit, his ability to negate or fend off an individual or item will be severely limited. Seven has been observed to change the weapon between a metal baseball bat appearance and as a bladed weapon, depending on his pre-determined approach to a conflict. It seems it is one of the few abilities he holds control over.
Seven's Gambit also seems to return to the user through unknown means (possibly via a form of teleportation or summoning?) after seven minutes if Seven is separated from his weapon by a distance of more than 700 feet.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aenean et tincidunt elit. Nullam blandit rutrum elit, ut ornare augue sollicitudin non. Phasellus sit amet tellus congue, commodo risus sed, elementum libero. Aliquam vitae porttitor quam. Maecenas quis pretium nibh. Maecenas lobortis enim vel efficitur aliquet. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Nunc mattis ligula ligula, ac gravida quam faucibus in. Ut vitae nulla vel nibh dapibus accumsan nec at tortor. Fusce accumsan nibh id sapien pretium convallis. Nunc ligula nulla, accumsan nec auctor sit amet, rhoncus quis sapien. Praesent nec nisi orci. Nunc sed bibendum odio.
"Lorem ipsum. Vestibulum cursus mattis."
Vestibulum cursus tortor non est mattis, nec hendrerit lacus accumsan. Donec sit amet purus a velit pharetra luctus vehicula ac nisl. Curabitur fermentum urna eu ante molestie aliquam. Aliquam rhoncus nisl vitae laoreet laoreet. Donec id arcu tincidunt, consectetur nunc id, dignissim urna. Nunc sodales, risus non auctor volutpat, odio ipsum accumsan dolor, dapibus luctus erat mauris a enim. Donec varius magna lacus. Duis id vestibulum libero, et cursus eros. Cras orci orci, mollis non orci sed, posuere facilisis lectus. Ut faucibus ipsum tortor, quis pharetra mauris lacinia sit amet. Phasellus diam metus, convallis sed lectus quis, finibus dignissim ipsum. Proin cursus a ante commodo viverra. Morbi posuere mauris sapien, ac congue quam feugiat ac. Pellentesque velit magna, porttitor eget efficitur nec, iaculis eget lorem. Proin dictum tincidunt laoreet. Proin quam metus, consequat quis interdum at, porta et tellus.Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aenean et tincidunt elit. Nullam blandit rutrum elit, ut ornare augue sollicitudin non. Phasellus sit amet tellus congue, commodo risus sed, elementum libero. Aliquam vitae porttitor quam. Maecenas quis pretium nibh. Maecenas lobortis enim vel efficitur aliquet. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Nunc mattis ligula ligula, ac gravida quam faucibus in. Ut vitae nulla vel nibh dapibus accumsan nec at tortor. Fusce accumsan nibh id sapien pretium convallis. Nunc ligula nulla, accumsan nec auctor sit amet, rhoncus quis sapien. Praesent nec nisi orci. Nunc sed bibendum odio.
"Lorem ipsum. Vestibulum cursus mattis."
Vestibulum cursus tortor non est mattis, nec hendrerit lacus accumsan. Donec sit amet purus a velit pharetra luctus vehicula ac nisl. Curabitur fermentum urna eu ante molestie aliquam. Aliquam rhoncus nisl vitae laoreet laoreet. Donec id arcu tincidunt, consectetur nunc id, dignissim urna. Nunc sodales, risus non auctor volutpat, odio ipsum accumsan dolor, dapibus luctus erat mauris a enim. Donec varius magna lacus. Duis id vestibulum libero, et cursus eros. Cras orci orci, mollis non orci sed, posuere facilisis lectus. Ut faucibus ipsum tortor, quis pharetra mauris lacinia sit amet. Phasellus diam metus, convallis sed lectus quis, finibus dignissim ipsum. Proin cursus a ante commodo viverra. Morbi posuere mauris sapien, ac congue quam feugiat ac. Pellentesque velit magna, porttitor eget efficitur nec, iaculis eget lorem. Proin dictum tincidunt laoreet. Proin quam metus, consequat quis interdum at, porta et tellus.
Discipline requires focus, to turn emotion and memory into power and duty. A soldier hailing from a more distant and foreign land far overseas, Reinhard served his fair share of duty for years under the courts when the lands before no longer held their fair shares of wars. On battlefields and in cities, Reinhard continued his work either fighting the enemy in front of him or helping the shadows kill the enemies of the court. If the blood was not on his hand directly, then it came from the secondhand spattering of aiding those that slit throats in the dead of night.
After fighting for so long, one wonders when such conflict will end. When killing through one's life, one wonders if his soul forsaken for the beating, blackened cancer of a monster. How living through each battle--surviving--without end forces one to wonder when his death would approach him, not how it would be done for there was no need of concern there. But like the previous wars across different seas, Reinhard "Beno" Klaus saw this one comes to its end. Every large or small province falling to the courts. All he could do was make the smart choice and leave it all behind.
He had seen others leave the employ before it was too late, and soon the old and Klaus sought not to become a dog with a chain so tight around his throat it choked the vestiges of life he still held, the scraps of peace and freedom left to be his. Wandering and aimless, a chance happenstance brought him to an old acquaintance and, furthermore, gave him a direction.
Merchant ships made their passing through certain towns and villages before heading to rendezvous with the larger cities and towns. Beno hopped from ship to ship, working as either protection or deckhand or any of the work. None of it bothered him as long as it kept him moving, kept his head low, until eventually he settled on a particular merchant vessel to spend his time. Peaceful work.
There was even a quaint little town the vessel visited from time to time. One indulgence Beno allowed himself. During the time spent to rest and recuperate after delivering goods and supplies, Beno found himself spending time with a young girl along with her guardians. A goblin old man and his spouse who owned a farm while looking after the little one. Last Klaus left the small family, it had been on good terms and well-wishes. A small bag full of silvers left for the tiny family.
He thought it would be enough to help them. Perhaps, when he returned, he would settle and work there for a while. The few chores he had done as service to them had been relaxing. Chopping wood had been easy and honest work.
But nothing ever works nicely like that. If death did not take him, it took those close to him, whether it be in the vicinity of his person or his soul. He returned from his merchant trips with much more silver than before his last visit. As weary eyes grew heavier looking upon a devasted town and people, a colder and steeled look fell upon the bodies. The old goblin and child laid there as their bodies desecrated and done with without care. Every mark and wound Beno recognized. Every war had its monsters and each left their unique mark.
He had seen many men marked and few lived to speak of their scars. It was foolish to think he would not see such carnage again. Much may change, but the slaughter would remain a constant. The fight for one's own breath.
A proper burial was held for both child and old. Beno could not console the wife but only offer an arm for the tears to be wept upon for his own misfortune compared not to hers. There was nothing left here for either of them, and he had nothing to give of any real value. Offering the slimmest comfort he could, the silver coins were left to her as well as his word, a singular vow. He left her to continue mourning for he had work to do. No time for him to hesitate or be held back by trifling emotions. Only a cold regret and even colder heart trudged its way back to the merchant ship before opening an old case. Time had changed his trajectory for a while and forced him to be more discreet.
His belongings of steel and blood had no longer been needed. Until now.
The Klaus gathered his arms, his garments, and all that he knew, all he had so far witnessed. Reinhardt Klaus would bring a solace and peace few manage to achieve, one of his own making by his hands. What he did was not out of fear or hatred but out of resolution. Mercenaries never made matters personal. This was a necessary path like any other he had undergone.
No matter how much coin he would need to kill for. No matter what deeds must be done to find the next step of his path. No matter the consequences of his actions. This would be seen to the end. One last silent war of retribution and once more unto the fray. No matter how long it took or what more it might take from him, one last vow shall be done.
Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.
Last Edit: Jul 14, 2023 6:22:18 GMT by Paperbag Fill