Modern Day Alchemists
WHY AREN'T YOU SIGNED IN!$#%@? -sends Aurel after you-
Latest topics
» This is the end I fear
Fri Nov 15, 2013 3:07 pm by Reila Tsukino

» Pumpkin Spice
Wed Nov 06, 2013 4:13 pm by Rhea Stevenson

» BARBERSHOP BRUNCH, BRO'S.
Wed Nov 06, 2013 12:54 pm by Wolfgang Murinyo

» Training Private Daw (Open to Amestrian Militants Only)
Mon Nov 04, 2013 6:07 pm by Dawsic

» AKI'S NEW FORUM
Mon Oct 21, 2013 12:59 am by Silvac

» Baldursdóttir, Ymir [done]
Thu Oct 17, 2013 5:56 pm by Jay Furor

» Practice Makes PERFECTION
Mon Oct 14, 2013 11:19 am by Zayne O'Reilly

» Just a Checkup
Thu Oct 10, 2013 8:55 am by Crassus

» Arm And A leg away... (Open)
Thu Oct 10, 2013 2:07 am by Silvac

» Brunch Is Served
Tue Oct 08, 2013 3:11 pm by Dunstan Hue

Who is online?
In total there is 1 user online :: 0 Registered, 0 Hidden and 1 Guest

None

[ View the whole list ]


Most users ever online was 74 on Wed Sep 10, 2014 4:45 am
Join us on Facebook!
 

The Call of Duty

View previous topic View next topic Go down

The Call of Duty

Post by Guest on Tue Nov 27, 2012 12:28 am

Vivian stood before the full length mirror in her room with a very serious and focused expression upon those pretty features of hers, her hands clenched stiffly at her sides. Taking a deep breath, she turned a bit to the side, and then the other, examining how her uniform appeared on her body. After all, it had been so long since she had worn it and.... Soon she would have to wear it again. Biting her lower lip, she sighed heavily and scratched the back of her head, flopping down onto the stool beside her armoir to comb and put her hair up. This should be more exciting than it was. She was about to resume her duties that she had held so proudly before. But now... so much was different. It wasn't Dietrich. She had Apos now, though he was busy with getting things in order for him to stay here with her.

About twenty minutes later she was striding out the door with her heart pounding in her chest and phone switched to silent. She didn't want her siblings pestering her like she knew that they would. Her family was thrilled to have her home, or at least in the area since she had moved back into her apartment in London now. She double checked the time on her phone and took a single, deep, calming breath. She was about to meet her new CO, and she was a little bit nervous about it. She had heard very little about the woman that was taking over, recalling that her name was Rachel Ascot. She had called Vivian yesterday to schedule this meeting this morning. Sliding out of the cab, she paid the driver with a quiet thank you before closing the door, turning to stare up at the building that Miss Ascot lived in. The White House had been destroyed in the last war, which meant that the seat of power now resided somewhere else in their beloved capital. Fucking RIOTE.

How was this going to go? What in the world could she expect? No, no calm down and focus. She raised a hand.... and rang the doorbell twice.

Guest
Guest


Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Rachel Ascot on Tue Nov 27, 2012 5:52 pm

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING~

"Nyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" A hand fought its way out of the blanket that covered both it and its owner, smacking into the side-table and looking for the alarm clock. Eventually, the hand managed to wrap its fingers around the alarm clock and flung it across the room. Happy, the hand went back to its rest.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING~

"But I broke my alarm clock..." Rachel's head poked out of the blanket, confused and tired. She looked back to the table; all that was on it were empty cans of beer. Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Wait, that's the doorbell... but I can't think of anyone I'm meeting other than..."

A pause as she remembered calling Vivian yesterday.

Shit! Rachel yelped, almost throwing herself out of the bed. "I'M ON MY WAY! God-fucking-damn it, where's my... fuck..." She searched the floor frantically, looking for some clothes to wear that were a bit more decent than her pyjamas that were patterned with robots and love-hearts.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING~

"Oh, fuck it." Came an uncharacteristic bark as she threw a dressing gown around herself and rushed out of the door, charging down the stairs and to the front door of her penthouse. Pulling the door open, she was confronted with Vivian Duchamp; the delicate, civil and deliberate composure of the royal guard was a great contrast to Rachel, pulling her loose pants up with one hand while scratching her messy hair with the other. "Vivian, hey, sorry, I overslept, busy night last night. Come in, I'm just going to make myself a bit more presentable than I am right now." She stepped aside to let Vivian in. "Help yourself to tea, teabags are in the pot on the left." She explained, tightening her dressing gown around her waist. Quickly looking outside to make sure there was no one else she had invited over, she closed the door and walked into the kitchen.
avatar
Rachel Ascot
QUEEN OF CLUBS

Posts : 154
Points : 131

-Case File-
Level: 2
Rank: Rachel I, Soveriegn Queen of Creta
Writer: Sponge

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Elastor Ito on Thu Nov 29, 2012 3:21 pm

Salt, mud, and road stones clung tenaciously to snow's purity, slushing it into a disaster for vehicles on wheels. A white Porsche smeared now with grime, dripped cold substances onto the concrete of the parking garage. It ran down the slant, pooling at the bottom where a grate absorbed it back whilst it came. Inside that car, was a man with auburn hair, casting red lights in the direct morning sunlight that slanted through the east opening. His manual hummed to a stop, brakes silent as he settled with a parking spot far away from where he supposed others would leave their cars. He got out, adorned effortlessly in his country's ornate uniform. Cretan to the bitter end, the badges on his chest glittered in winter's light, causing him to squint and look the opposite way. The White House to which his medals pledged was destroyed...fairly. But right now, repairs were being proposed by the best construction alchemists in the country. All was not lost. Or so went the catchphrase that spurred people on. He knew that in just a few quick moments, all the physical damage caused by RIOTE could be remedied. So simple with science. Yet even Elastor understood some things took time to recover from.

Everything wouldn't be back to normal for quite a while. And after coming home with himself worse for wear as well as Lord Dietrich being comatose, it was already hard enough to return. Zen Howler, just where were you? So many MIA. Even the fruity inspector had vanished, fortifying a cold, dank inkling of remorse. Leaving Amestris he did not recall but fragments of haunted voices, pricks of needles, Howler's voice so strangely reassuring. "You first my love." Vanity. Intoxicating fumes that still filled his lungs with each intake of breath. He shouldn't be alive. A choice made. Dietrich would never wake up, caught in dreams...or caught in nightmares. Of which Ela lived everyday; he was that nightmare. Had they done things differently, he was sure Dietrich would be in the same position, already having lost the moment their meeting turned bloody. Was it really unexpected? Dietrich had been so sure of himself--so pristine in his resolve that he himself believed him, surveying the area for an indication of attack that instead, came from their King instead. He asked. "I trust you can handle things from here, Sir Ito?" His last order.

Elastor sighed, a finger smashing the elevator's L button, illuminating it. The doors groaned to a close, and he suddenly realized where he was. Thoughts having led him astray, he stood now in a tiny metal box descending instead taking the stairs. His heart caught in his throat, eyes wide with clarity no longer in the mind. This was a mistake--an error brought about by reminiscing--dwelling on the past. How so very unlike him. Quickly, he pushed all the buttons, hoping fervently that one would open on the next floor and quickly. He hated elevators. Hated. Not from experience, but simply from caution and expectation. Already unsafe as they were suspended in air, the near proximity they caused was also highly unnerving. People packed together like plastic wrapped lunch meat, they were corralled out and in by tiny numbers that controlled their fate. Despicable; highly unadvantageous.

The elevator shrieked to a halt on the next floor down, his heart hammering avidly in his chest, ready to tear out of there the moment there was enough space. Ding, a man shouldered his way in through the doors, immediately jamming the >|< button, thwarting the redhead's escape. A guttural growl racked Ela's throat, already burning from his well-guided suspicions. The man was standing beside him, rugged, masterful in the way he concealed a weapon. Ela, for once, was unarmed, yet to be reinstated with his own arsenal (as were the ways of a new rule). Rachel Ascot. Would he die for her? Was his loyalty put in question at the switch of command?

The man pulled his gun, firing off two shots. The first one missed, shaving off a few strands of poker straight hair. It would have killed him, had he not moved--he would have died had he not been already suspecting. The second, in such close distance, hit him. The familiar burn paralyzed his shoulder for just a moment. "We're coming after her," came the rueful drawl, heavily accented with country. "HAH, A club owner leading a country--it'll be the downfall of us all!!" Ela was squeezing his shoulder, warm blood oozing between his quivering pale fingers. A cold sheen of ice formed over his blue eyes, glowering in the throws of murderous intent. "Does it hurt, hm? Does it--AGH!!!"

"You talk too much." The man now prostrated with a shattered forearm, bayed from his place on the floor of the elevator. Taste defeat. The motion, however, was making him sick, forcing him to wobble to the side to try and hold the guy down and reach for the gun that had fallen in the scuffle. Cold fingers wound around the trigger, slamming it into the enemy's temple. "Who are you working for?!" Ding. An elderly couple en tourist route gaped in aghast horror. Ela froze in his pursuits, reaching with his foot to hold the door open, accompanied by a scowl. "Call the--" With a throaty cackle, the man slapped a panic button on his leg that Ela had failed to take notice of. He wasn't alone. A string of curses burst from his lips.

"A-are you okay? Call the police?" The elderly man stammered while his wife fingered her phone.

"No," Ela barked, removing his foot. "I am a Royal Guard." And for once, taking the elevator allowed for a preemptive capture of a member of the well-known opposition force against Rachel Ascot. She was in danger. The door shut on the couple, leaving the two men alone once more. Ela grunted, shifting his injured shoulder to both reach into his pocket and affix a ziptie tight around the rebel's wrists. Dragging him to his feet, the dopey weight was just a tad more than the pained redhead could handle. How many more floors were there...? The doors continued to open, luckily with none waiting to board. Eventually, they made it to the level sector, Ela dragging the silent rebel out and into the melting snow. Shoving him down the sidewalk, they took various turns until making it to the soon-to-be-Queen's penthouse. After making a relative survey of the area, he found no evidence of tampering just yet. What were they planning? It was imperative to search his person, but with only one hand it was impossible. Radio-less, there was A final button to push, Ela rang the doorbell.

.....................................................................................................................................


Fluent in | Cretan (crimson) | Amestrian (peru) | Xingese (rosybrown) | Drachman (wheat) | Everything has a British Cretan accent. Can read lips.
Csi: 8D Ela: B|
avatar
Elastor Ito
TIN MAN

Posts : 164
Points : 168
Location : on the job.

-Case File-
Level: 3
Rank: Royal Taskforce
Writer: Aki

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Guest on Fri Nov 30, 2012 3:32 pm

She rang the doorbell once, then twice, waiting between each one so as not to be obnoxious. After all, being obnoxious to your boss and person you were sworn to protect was not exactly the smartest thing to do especially when this was your first meeting with them. She checked her watch hidden on her wrist, having to pull the cuffs of her outer jacket to ensure that she was here on time. No... She was here exactly on the dot, so maybe she had gotten the wrong...."I'M ON MY WAY! Hm? Had she heard something? Her brows furrowed as her hand faltered while reaching to ring the doorbell one last time. She couldn't be sure if she had heard a voice, or even identify the voice since it was so faint and through a door. The thumping of feet pounding on stairs was definitely distinctive, standing up a little straighter as the door opened moments later.

She was greeted with a Queen who appeared as if she had just rolled out of bed, judging from her slightly disheveled hair, and clothes that she was wearing. Rocket ships and hearts hm? Well if that was what she enjoyed, who was she to judge? Vivian immediately saluted her Queen, bowing her head to her in greeting. "Vivian, hey, sorry, I overslept, busy night last night. Come in, I'm just going to make myself a bit more presentable than I am right now." She merely smiled modestly as she stepped into Rachel's home, glancing about before focusing upon the reason she was here; Rachel. "Help yourself to tea, teabags are in the pot on the left." "Thank you ma'am. It is no trouble, I realize I arrived a few minutes early. Take your time." She answered in a soft, lower voice, following the soon-to-be new leader of Creta into her kitchen. She almost felt a little awkward for having dressed so, perhaps casuals would have been better--

*RIIIIIIIIIING*

Pausing in the doorway, she turned back towards the front door, her brows furrowing as she couldn't help but start to pull off the white gloves that covered her tattooed hands. Who could this be? There was no sense in standing on ceremony now, this may as well have been her first day on the job. So Vivian walked up to the door, checked the peep hole, and straightened rather suddenly. A uniform much like her own was on the other side, his medals glinting much like his hair. She opened the door while still getting a feel for the water that was in the air, totally ready to engulf the mans head in water if he turned out to just be an impostor. The door swung open enough to reveal her, remaining mostly closed to the room to keep Rachel out of sight. She noticed the man that he dragged with him after all "Captain. Is there a problem?" She asked as she opened the door a little bit, glancing around the area as she gathered a ball of water in her palm.

Guest
Guest


Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Rachel Ascot on Sat Dec 01, 2012 12:57 am

Soon-to-be-queen Rachel didn't look much of a queen and knew it, but at the same time she wanted to be as approachable as possible. To play dress up now would only alienate her, distance her from the casual human. "Thank you ma'am. It is no trouble, I realize I arrived a few minutes early. Take your time." Vivian said, and Rachel nodded, leaving Vivian in the kitchen as she slipped into the living room to find some actual clothes. She was the kind of person who would leave clothes, pizza boxes and papers all over the floors of every room; her house was a pig sty.

"I won't be a minute; sorry about all this." She shouted to Vivian, but she was interrupted by the doorbell again. Vivian got it first, but as she greeted her fellow soldier who brought with him a prisoner, Rachel's own attention shifted to a much quieter but more ominous sound. A soft thud. Franklin and his girlfriend were spending the day in god knows where; the only people who were in the house were Rachel and Vivian...

... or should be in the house...

The moment she heard the soft thud, Rachel's eyes scanned the floor for a weapon. Pizza box? No. A big heavy book? No. An empty bottle? Now that was something she was familiar with. Rachel bent down, picking up the hefty wine bottle. Her muscles tensed, her senses heightened, her nerves went into full throttle. She could feel individual ripples in the clothes between her toes. She didn't look a threatening sight in her childish pyjamas holding a beer bottle in one hand, but Rachel was a nightclub owner; she knew that there was the odd patron who liked to get a little too friendly. And she knew that if they didn't take no for an answer, Franklin or one of the other bouncers would need to step in. And if they weren't around, she had to be able to fight on her own accord.

It was this experience that meant that even though her attacker had leapt out of seemingly nowhere and brandished a khukuri of all things, Rachel was more than prepared.

Rachel easily swung to the side of the first strike, then backed away from the second. A poorly trained hand; they were probably some poor sod in a group of crazy radical Ascot-haters who had probably bought the khukuri first thing yesterday. Rachel, on the other hand, was able to keep out of the khukuri's distance, before delivering an almighty blow on top the would-be assassin's head. He had made the stupid mistake of bending down, leaving the back of his head exposed, and he assumed glass shattered whenever it hit anything harder than paper, so he crumbled when he felt a hard object delivering by a strong arm onto the weakest part of his skull. Rachel stamped onto the blade he held before he could move, making sure he couldn't use it again.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Creta's last hope, you fucking bitch!" The man barked, then he very suddenly pulled upward and rugby tackled Rachel, forcing her backwards and smacking her through the door into the corridor that both Vivian and Elastor stood in. Rachel grunted in pain, slamming against the wall, before bringing her knee into the man's stomach. His entire body shuddered, but she wasn't done as she grabbed his head by the hair and pulled it upwards. He fell, his feet trailing against the ground, but his head didn't, still in an iron grip, before Rachel suddenly and violently began to repeatedly crash it against the world.

"THIS!" Thud! "IS!" Thud! "HOW!" Thud! "WE!" Thud! "DO!" Thud! "THINGS!" Thud! "IN!" Thud! "THE!" Thud! "CLUB!" With one last almighty thump against the wall, Rachel pulled the man back towards her; this time he looked a lot less angry. "Again, who are you?"

"You're going to bring nothing but disaster to Creta. Dietrich would never have left the throne in your..."

"Lovely to hear." Rachel said, dropping the man like a bad habit as she turned towards the Royal Guards. It was at this point she noticed an unusual draft. She looked down. One of the slashes with the khukuri had met its target, or at least in the sense that, though she was fine, her shirt had a nasty gash across it, from left breast to right hip, ruining it. Rachel gritted her teeth angrily, unletting a terrifying snarl, before delivering an almighty kick to the man's stomach. "You bastard, this was one of my favourite shirts! I'm going to make you pay for another one!" The man didn't answer, only groaning in both pain and embarrassment. Then Rachel saw that another guard stood in her doorway, and that it was a man, and it was her turn to feel embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed red as she covered her left breast with one arm as she extended the other for a handshake, grinning awkwardly. "If I remember faces right, you're Elastor Ito, right? Nice to meet you."
avatar
Rachel Ascot
QUEEN OF CLUBS

Posts : 154
Points : 131

-Case File-
Level: 2
Rank: Rachel I, Soveriegn Queen of Creta
Writer: Sponge

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Elastor Ito on Sun Dec 09, 2012 1:39 am

What was she going to do, throw a water balloon at him? Elastor Ito, immediately scoffed, looking sideways behind her and into the home of Rachel Ascot. Seeing nothing immediately out of line, he met the alchemist's inquiring eyes. "Captain. Is there a problem?" His expression soured further. Wasn't that obvious? Was she not a trained professional? Perhaps all her time gallivanting around with some Amestrian fool detained her skills to discern. His teeth grit together, gunned hand shoving the rebel forth at Vivian Duchamp. The man stumbled and fell into a panting pile of failure. Immediately, Ela shoved the blood-caked gun in his mouth and grasped the bullet wound tainting his shoulder. Pain was apparent as was what it leaked. The more pressure, the closer he came to stunting the bleeding; it was only a passing suffering. That was all. Uniform already stained beyond washing repair, Ela was past livid. Best of all, there were more.

"Search him," he demanded without an ounce of compromise. He lifted his eyes once more to survey the interior. "Where is the Queen?" He looked back at Vivian and stepped inside, kicking the door closed behind them with his boot. "Lock it. We aren't alone." Narrowed icy blue jotted back and forth, hand slowly releasing his shoulder and going for the gun. Someone was already inside. No... multiples. Rachel Ascot was in danger. Already. How absurd. Rebels really needed to learn manners. Whack! A door swung and slammed against the opposing wall. Ela was already at the end of the corridor, gun trained. He was about to duck around the corner when someone in their pajamas collided from the doorway and into the wall. His eyes widened in horror. R-robots and hearts!? Stunned momentarily, he witnessed as she kneed the knife-wielding rebel straight in the abdomen. He crumbled.

"THIS! IS! HOW! WE! DO! THINGS! IN! THE! CLUB!" Club? He raised an eyebrow, gun aimed at the ready right at the man's temple. "Again, who are you?" It was useless at this point. There was bound to be more flies buzzing around. His attention diverted quickly, losing a bit of the conversation in his assessment of the surroundings. Nothing amiss. The rebels appeared to be country juveniles, but in all actuality-- "...this was one of my favourite shirts! I'm going to make you pay for another one!" He blinked, turning just in time to get glimpse enough to know that he wasn't supposed to turn around. What. Just...what was going on here?! A heat rose into his cheeks, causing him to feel slightly feverish and unsteady. By chance was she Rachel Ascot? She...her face looked like the pictures he'd seen, but since he'd never met her... But pajamas? Flustered beyond a doubt, Ela shoved the gun back into his mouth and shrugged off his coat, blindly setting it about her shoulders to replace the defects of precision. Now maybe he could look at her.

Her face was also flushed, however a hand was extended to him. He looked at both of his: sticky with blood. "I uhh..."

"If I remember faces right, you're Elastor Ito, right? Nice to meet you."

"Yes. It is my honor." He bowed slightly, but grimaced at the jarring it caused his shoulder. He straightened himself with wary eyes. "Forgive me, but pleasantries will have to be postponed. You are under attack and I am under the impression that we are still not alone; they have a panic switch." He looked behind him at Vivian. "What did you find?" They could be anywhere by now. He ventured further beyond the corridor, trying to slink around the corner, stopping once a thought occurred. "Do you have anything of value that could be taken for compensation?"

.....................................................................................................................................


Fluent in | Cretan (crimson) | Amestrian (peru) | Xingese (rosybrown) | Drachman (wheat) | Everything has a British Cretan accent. Can read lips.
Csi: 8D Ela: B|
avatar
Elastor Ito
TIN MAN

Posts : 164
Points : 168
Location : on the job.

-Case File-
Level: 3
Rank: Royal Taskforce
Writer: Aki

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Guest on Sun Dec 09, 2012 5:23 pm

"I won't be a minute; sorry about all this." The words barely registered as her brows furrowed at the sudden switch in atmosphere. If this were the woods, the birds and animals would have just gone silent. And that never meant anything good. She was about to turn away from the door when Elastor scoffed at her and threw his prisoner at her feet. A great way to meet one of her fellow guards. She pulled the man inside and threw him against the wall, her globe of water dissipating into nothing just as Elastor spoke again, "Search him," Vivian was already bending over the man, sliding the hidden dagger into the back of her uniform, "Where is the Queen?" "Living room." The door slammed closed, "Lock it. We aren't alone." Her hands paused as she pulled out the few possessions the man had on him, forcing herself to ignore Elastors tone. She realized the situation at hand, and she could only imagine what he thought of her now considering her response.

The sound of a thud caused her to whirl around, already pulling a stream of water from the air as she found Rachel against the wall with an attacker holding her. The man she was searching tried to fidget which only got him a lovely whip crack across the face from her water, Vivian narrowing her eyes at him as her Queen began to smash the other attackers face into the floor. "THIS! IS! HOW! WE! DO! THINGS! IN! THE! CLUB!" Normally that would have brought a smirk to her lips, but not right now. She was fuming over her lack of response and earlier words. "Don't even think about it unless you want to drown here and now." She hissed at her own prisoner, pressing her knee into his chest as the water dispersed back into the water particles normally found in the air. "Again, who are you?" "You're going to bring nothing but disaster to Creta. Dietrich would never have left the throne in your..." "Lovely to hear." Great. Loyalists to her own past charge. She missed Dietrich as well, but attacking the soon-to-be queen was not going to solve anything. Unless they could get Dietrich out of his coma, their actions would accomplish nothing except getting them killed.

Returning to what she was doing before, she finished up searching the man, plucking a bluetooth from his ear and a cell phone from his pocket. His hands fidgeted again as he seemed to start doing something with his mouth. Her eyes widened as she jammed her hand in his mouth, the man gagging at the sudden motion. She felt the capsule he was going to swallow that felt like it had been in a fake tooth cap or something. "No you fucking don't!" She snapped as she elbowed him hard across the temple, effectively knocking him out. Sniffing at him, she let him slump over as Rachel and Elastor exchanged pleasantries, inwardly quite satisfied at his reaction to his Queen. Vivian had been so used to Dietrich's random antics that finding Rachel in her pajama's, or the exposed breast, and such hardly phased her in the least bit. After all, she had been on guard while Dietrich met with the Duchess of New York. Oh those had been very long, awkward nights.... She looked up just as Elastor turned to her, "What did you find?" She held up the bluetooth and phone, now removing her knee from the mans chest as she straightened up. "Probably a short range transmitter for his friends. She flicked open the phone for it seemed to be an older model, checking through it to see if there was anything useful. She grimaced, "Only three numbers in here. Might be disposable phones in case they got caught." "Do you have anything of value that could be taken for compensation?"

Vivian removed the outer coat of her uniform and held it out to Rachel as she pocketed the cellphone and bluetooth, offering her a gentle smile. "We should vacate the premises and get m'lady out of here." Removing her pistol from its holster, she strained her ears for the sound of anything out of place, letting Elastor examine the place as she remained by Rachel to ensure she was guarded.

Guest
Guest


Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Rachel Ascot on Mon Dec 17, 2012 3:00 pm

Eagerly grabbing the jacket that Vivian offered, Rachel did the first thing that came to mind; she grabbed her phone from the table next to her and tried to contact Franklin. The moment she saw the state of the phone, though, she saw that it wasn't happening right away; the mobile phone was destroyed, possibly when her attacker had broken in so she was cut off. It wouldn't be outlandish to think that the main landline was cut off too. She was pretty much alone, if not for the two guards.

"Do you have anything of value that could be taken for compensation?" Came Elastor's question, but he didn't receive a reply, Rachel distracted by her own thoughts, trying to work out a niggling trouble that was in the back of her mind.

"I don't, no, but something seems off." She finally answered, zipping up. "Why attack now? This morning, I mean. They obviously broke in last night, I was asleep all morning and my bodyguard's not here. Am I the only one who thinks that they're waiting for something?"

"We should vacate the premises and get m'lady out of here." Vivian said, her pistol at the ready, and Rachel nodded.

"Right. It needs to be somewhere off the map, though. I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this." She said, waiting for the two guards to suggest somewhere. She then grabbed her address book and threw it to Elastor. "And phone Franklin; he's the bouncer at the nightclub I own, and my driver. I suppose he's a bodyguard too, just get him."
avatar
Rachel Ascot
QUEEN OF CLUBS

Posts : 154
Points : 131

-Case File-
Level: 2
Rank: Rachel I, Soveriegn Queen of Creta
Writer: Sponge

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Elastor Ito on Mon Jan 07, 2013 1:00 am

"Probably a short range transmitter for his friends." He nodded, momentarily scanning the bluetooth and phone as he processed.

"He have poison capsules?" He judged by the man's slumped disposition, the previous gagging noises, and Vivian's expression that his suspicions were sound. He shifted gears again, taking the phone with a rather distressed look.

"I don't, no, but something seems off." He snapped back into focus, pupils shrinking into tiny pinpricks drowning in blue. Something seemed off? That much was obvious. Typically, rebels didn't fire a shot pointblank at a Cretan Militant in a parking garage elevator. Wait. Parking garage elevator--why there? Elastor completely stopped, the start of Rachel Ascot's cross-examination barely registering. "...broke in last night, I was asleep all morning and my bodyguard's not here. Am I the only one who thinks that they're waiting for something?"

"A bomb." Elastor broke into step. "We have to call a bomb squad here now. Start searching!"

"We should vacate the premises and get m'lady out of here," The female Royal Guard piped in, making the redhead cringe. It was like a terrible 90's movie his sister always made him watch when he was a kid. He couldn't remember the name, but it certainly alluded to his degrading state.

"Right. It needs to be somewhere off the map, though. I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this." Like perhaps the very clear sign of the planting of a bomb--multiple bombs? Ela shook his head, trying to keep his focus level and the disloyal rattle out. The soon-to-be-Queen ran her hands along a shelf, grabbing something and throwing it suddenly at him. Taken by surprise completely, he barely caught it with his good hand, immediately getting blood on it. From across the way, he gave her a it's-not-my-fault-there's-a-stain-on-this-now glare. "And phone Franklin; he's the bouncer at the nightclub I own, and my driver. I suppose he's a bodyguard too, just get him." Without hesitation he passed the address book onto Vivian with a light toss, wincing the instant it left his fingers.

With a grimaced look, he hissed, "I don't do unprioritized favors," and abruptly kicked the rebel countryman in the gut, grabbing a fistful of hair to yank his curled body back into place. "Get the Queen out of here; there's a car in the garage." He flipped the phone in his hand open, hitting send on the first number. "When--if they pick up, you will ask them what their position is in the least detrimental way. If you falter at all, give away a code of any sort, or if all three do not pick up, I will kill you here and now...slowly. So you better hope they do." Black and white, Ela reeked of seriousness. The man seemed to grasp that, shuddering in sputtering hysterics. "Prepare yourself; it's ringing."

On the third ring, a man with a deeper voice picked up. The countryman began blabbering how he got lost in the parking garage and was trying to meet up at their position to take down Rachel before the bomb went off, essentially covering their tracks in fire. On the fly, the man gave up his position as well as the other guy who was with him, albeit whispered it. On his own cellphone, Ela dialed for the bomb squad, reporting the scare as he would had he been a civilian. He hung up and was on his feet again, leaving the rebel there to be tended to by the authorities. He darted through the house until he found the location of the rebels lurking in the broom closet where they said they were. A bitter sweet smirk settled onto his dry lips as he disarmed them and left all three groaning on the floor, wrapped in zipties. A job well done, he turned to hear many feet stomping in.

Elastor was carefully escorted out by officials wearing white. (He refused the blanket). In his dwindling state, he practically turned the gun on them too. Closets. White. Lacking fire. Takatori. His parents screams seared into his mind, the smoke curling in his lungs. He met darkness in the middle of the lawn where he dropped. Bloodloss. Overexertion. The memories pounded down on him as the floodgates released. He murmured their names over and over again, but the man was already long dead.

[EXIT THREAD]

.....................................................................................................................................


Fluent in | Cretan (crimson) | Amestrian (peru) | Xingese (rosybrown) | Drachman (wheat) | Everything has a British Cretan accent. Can read lips.
Csi: 8D Ela: B|
avatar
Elastor Ito
TIN MAN

Posts : 164
Points : 168
Location : on the job.

-Case File-
Level: 3
Rank: Royal Taskforce
Writer: Aki

View user profile

Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Guest on Tue Jan 08, 2013 2:52 am

There was no other sound. And that worried Vivian even more. Front door was out of the question, they would be expecting that. Though that was the front door of the building, maybe the penthouse door would still be fine for now. After all, they would have assumed their men had been successful or at least in the process of completing their assigned task. "I don't, no, but something seems off. Why attack now? This morning, I mean. They obviously broke in last night, I was asleep all morning and my bodyguard's not here. Am I the only one who thinks that they're waiting for something?" "A bomb. We have to call a bomb squad here now. Start searching!" Which was the thought that was just crossing the young Captains mind as she looked now to her Queen with lips in a thin line, taking a small, calming breath. "Right. It needs to be somewhere off the map, though. I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this." Somewhere off the map.... While there were some safe houses that Dietrich had set up, that was not recommended considering who was chasing after them. "And phone Franklin; he's the bouncer at the nightclub I own, and my driver. I suppose he's a bodyguard too, just get him."

Ah. She knew just the place. "There's an old abandoned bunker saved for Crown Alchemists. It should be safe there. It only recognizes certain people, and I'm one of them." She responded, catching the address book easily as Elastor tossed it to her, ignoring his grimace as she touched a hand to Rachels back gently. He could take care of the rest. There was no trusting the garage, her car could very well be bombed. But what of the fire escape? Leading the Queen carefully over to the window, she peeked out it carefully, securing the area in quick succession before pulling up a window and climbing out onto the black iron before extending an arm to help Rachel out (not that she expected she'd really need it. Checking beneath them, it was oddly clear, her eyes prickling at any sign of a potential trigger for a trap or something. She led her down the stairs, making sure that Rachel stayed with her before a car screeched down the alley below, clearly in a rush. "One moment," And without another word she jumped over the railing down the two stories onto the roof of the car as it passed by, her timing perfect (luckily. Lets not imagine the other result hm?). She heard the shouts and grimaced, firing two shots into the driver, then passenger seat. She rolled off and remained ducked down as she felt for the water molecules in the air, streaming them into the car before surrounding the rebels heads in bubbles of water so that they effectively drowned.

They only tried to scream rather futily, gurgling and gulping down more water in the process, forgetting that they had guns in their hands. They were lucky, only the driver and passenger, but her bullets had been off by centimeters and had only struck them in the shoulders. She should train more, not that it would necessarily be easy to try to train for a situation like this. Once the two men were dead, she let the water dissipate back into the air, opened the car doors to pull the two bodies out of the way. Looking up to Rachel whom was still on the fire escape, she jumped up and pulled the ladder down so that she could come down the rest of the way, holstering her gun before offering holding her hands up to her. "We should be clear from here. We must hurry your majesty." She called, knowing that she didn't have to say it twice. Once the Queen was at her side, she climbed into the drivers seat and promptly drove back out onto the street, glad that their car looked mostly normal except for the two bullet holes in the roof (which were hard enough to notice from afar).

Once they were at least fifteen blocks away, she pulled over into a parking lot and led Rachel away, hurrying them through the streets while appearing as normal as humanly possible. Soon enough they arrived at a simple enough book store with used books for sale, Vivian nodding to the woman behind the counter with a small smile. "Do you have anything on Captain Cook?" She asked with a small tilt of her head, the woman appearing apologetic though her hand slid to the hidden button that would allow them in the back. "I'm afraid not on display. Maybe something on Omai." And with that Vivian headed down a hallway towards the back of the store before turning into a store room and gesturing for Rachel to go inside. Once the closed the door, the floor began to lower them into an office space area, doors leading off from the corridor that they found themselves in now. A man was walking by the elevators doors when he noticed Vivian and another exit it. His face perked up, "Captain Duchamp! A pleasure to see you again. Whose your friend?" He asked in a friendly voice, grinning at the both of them.

Vivian could only give him a strained smile as she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, much relieved to have gotten them both here with little incident. "Lady Rachel Ascott. We must keep her safe for a while David. Is Delta-Sigma-Gamma free?" She asked as she observed his smile fade away instantly. She hated to bring down his mood for David was always such a cheerful man, but he understood that if the soon-to-be Queen was here and needed to be kept safe then something serious was up. "Yeah, yeah. No ones requested that room. I'll help in whatever capacity." He then seemed to realize that he hadn't introduced himself, which caused him to attempt to both bow and salute Rachel at the same time. It was a rather comedic sight. "Ah! Uh, please excuse me. Crown Alchemist David Rothenburg at your service m'lady. Please follow us." Once they were at the large training room, did she finally relax, running a hand through the bangs that stubbornly rested on either side of her pale features. David got them a table, chairs, something to drink as well as some snacks before leaving them be. Vivian wasn't really sure if Elastor would be able to come into contact with them easily much less get in, but she was sure that things would blow over within a couple of hours at least.

[EXIT THREAD]

Guest
Guest


Back to top Go down

Re: The Call of Duty

Post by Sponsored content


Sponsored content


Back to top Go down

View previous topic View next topic Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum