IRON FIST - Game Thread
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Chrystal on 15-04-2013, 11:05:01</h2>
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				Title: <strong>IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 11:05:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.buyingasword.com/content/images/thumbs/0085465_articulated-gauntlets.png)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td> GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td> A minor road winding through the mountains of Alsace, Fédération des Etats Européens (The Ambush Site)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> The entire team, plus Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> A pleasant spring day in what used to be Western France. Setting the scene.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://www.reciprocityimages.com/archives/var/resizes/France/Rural_Forest_Road_20100604_8700.jpg?m=1308561233)</div>The road wound gently through the Alsatian forest, the surface showing cracks and signs of age in places. The birch trees to either side swayed gently in the light breeze, as the warm spring sunshine filtered through the fresh green leaves.<br><br>Something rustled in the undergrowth, a squirrel searching out nuts. A blackbird flew down onto the road surface and hopped silently across to rummage in the dead leaves that lay to either side of the narrow asphalt strip. A rabbit hopped cautiously from the back and paused to sniff the air before nibbling on a green shoot.<br><br>It was soon joined by several others, rabbits not being solitary creatures. One of them hopped, imprudently into the middle of the road. It's ears twitching at the strange humming sound coming from around the corner.<br><br>The white electrically powered Mercedes van came around the turn, perhaps a little too fast. The rabbit never stood a chance, the occupants of the van feeling nothing more than a slight bump. The other rabbits vanishes as one of them pounded a foot on the ground. The squirrel shot up a tree and the blackbird sailed into the air, it's alarm call ringing through the woodland.<br><br>The van drew to a stop, the door slid open and a number of people piled out.&nbsp; They were all armed, and all but one were wearing chameleon suits that blended in to the surroundings. Following close behind the van was a blue sports car, this one running on bioethanol, seeing as batteries did rather limit you in terms of speed and range. Behind the wheel of the sports car sat a manikin, a dummy, made up to look like a human.<br><br>With the people out, the van drove off again, heading North towards Strasbourg airport. The blue car followed, but pulled off the road&nbsp; a few kilometres away and turned around, parking up in a lay-by to wait.<br><br>In the woodland, the people all but vanished.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 11:42:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2007/12/25/amd_michelle-rodriguez.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Anne Laughton</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Stack, Zuhau, Cavendish, the DeWitts. (Dayan driving the van)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Setting up the ambush, then waiting.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Major Laughton, ex-SAS, mercinary and ruthless CEO of Iron Fist Inc, surveyed her team as they piled from the van. "Okay people you all know your jobs. This <em>should</em> be a milk-run. Yeah, I know, I just jinxed it." She rolled her eyes at her own superstitions nonsense, then quickly went over the team's orders again, now they were here on site. "Saul, get going. Let IFFY know on the secure link the moment you acquire the target, and especially let us know the vehicle she picks. We know she has a booking with Avis, so hang out neat the desk." She closed the door of the van and watched it drive off.&nbsp; <br><br>"Eric", Anne's eyes hardened slightly. She had a field soldier's mistrust of system operatives. She'd been let down by them on more than one occasion and was more than willing to run any op without one, but IFFY insisted she wasn't able to provide the sort of cover needed, so Anne reluctantly agreed. "Get yourself out of sight, get that car to the agreed spot, wait for the target's vehicle and then do your thing."<br><br>The sniper, she was reasonably confident in. The girl was quiet, but snipers usually were. And Anne had never seen a better shot! "Eve, pick yourself a tree up on the hill there, and set up. Let me know the instant you see anything coming on the road. Especially if it's the target."<br><br>Anne turned to her explosives expert. The chinese girl was something of a wildcard, but she was very good. "Zu, you're with Eric, get out of sight. As soon as the decoy comes around that bend, do your thing. And remember," here she put on a fake cockney accent, "You're only supposed to blow the bloody wheels off!" <br><br>Chuckling at her own joke, she turned to the close support specialist. "Adam". She glanced at the sniper's retreating back. The fact that the two of them were actually clones, closer than brother and sister, was not lost on her, and nor was the fact that they shared a bed. But complex relationships were par for the course and Laughton didn't judge. "She's up for it?" the team leader asked softly. <br><br>She pointed to the uphill side of the road. "Find yourself a good spot. If we get trouble, come in thumping!"<br><br>Anne turned to the final member of the team. "Okay, girl, here we go again..." She grinned and rubbed the sore spots on her wrists where Stack had chained her to the bed the night before. Her backside was still deliciously painful from the flogging. Complex relationships indeed... She admired the make-up job Stack was wearing. Her own face, but with cuts and bits of glass and metal apparently sticking out. She looked like an extra from a horror movie. Stack was the only one present not wearing a chameleon suit. "Get out of site, Nikki. In the ditch there might be best."<br><br>The major surveyed the scene. None of the team were now visible from the road, not even Stack, who had an uncanny ability to vanish even without chameleon clothing. Satisfied, she headed for cover herself, and settled down to wait.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 12:31:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.hellomagazine.com/imagenes/profiles/jennifer-connelly/769-connollyprofb.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Strasbourg airport</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Renting and driving a pink sport car</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Tisha Magnessen's heels were ticking in a rapid rhythm on the tiled floor as she walked toward the rental desk, pulling a medium-sized rolling suitcase behind her. She was clothed in a rather strict business outfit made of a long skirt, a white blouse, with a green-and-blue scarf loosely hanging around her neck. She was wearing medium-heeled, closed shoes.<br><br>An overweight couple was walking towards the desk as well, each pulling two huge suitcases. They had almost reached the counter but Trisha feigned not to see them and went directly to the front desk, passing them by in her fast-paced gait. The man coughed and then said, "Excusez-moi Mademoiselle, mais je crois que nous étions avant vous..."<br><br>Tisha slowly turned her head, looking at the overweight guy over her shoulder. She addressed him a seductive glance and a confident smile before answering in an English tinted with some northern accent, <strong>"I'm sorry sir, but I have a golden pass, and moreover, I hate waiting."</strong> She was brandishing a glistening golden card.<br><br>Then, without according the baffled man any more attention, in spite of the angry whispers his wife was addressing him, Tisha pushed the golden card and a sheet of printed paper over the desk to the attendant.<br><br><strong>"Hello. My name is Trisha Magnessen. I have booked a car for one week. A sport cart. I want it fast, I hate slowness, both in actions and in minds."</strong><br><br>She was looking at the desk attendant with a haughty air while impatiently ticking her nails on the counter.<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://www.thesupercars.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/2011-Porsche-911-Speedster-pink.jpg)</div>A moment later she was heading toward her car. It was easy enough to spot in the parking as they had made sure to comply with her request about the colour: a bright pink.<br><br>She put her suitcase in the trunk, sat in the seat and immediately opened the roof, which gently folded itself down. She had a carnivorous smile as she made the engine to roar, testing its power. Not bad, she thought. Before starting though, she tied her scarf around her hair to prevent them from getting entangled by the wind of the speed. Then she programmed her implant to show her the direction to the Château. Immediately, the way to go was like "painted" on her retina, along with all other useful information. She would be there in 42 minutes. That is, if I manage to force myself to respect the speed limits, she laughed inwardly.<br><br>And then she was gone in a roaring of engine and a hissing of tires.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Roen</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 13:06:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/71/Evepic.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eve</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>On top of a tree overlooking the road (Ambush Site)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Currently by herself, the team spread across the parameters</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Keeping the road clear from unintended intrusions.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>The sniper stared at the major for a moment, only a second before reminding herself that some people don't like to be glared at. Unsure of what was the proper way out of that awkwardness, she simply shrugged with a single shoulder, "Sorry." She said before giving her brother a look and then turning to run uphill, effectively slicing the air with her open hands, which she kept parallel to her body, optimizing her speed.<br>&nbsp;<br>Something was wrong; Eve considered the haunch as she ran through the first row of vegetation, the birch trees at the sides of the road were too thin, too young, too birch. What she was aiming for was a broad and stern-looking oak towering above them from the back, approximately fifty feet tall, with a thick and voluptuous treetop. Without hesitating, she grabbed her tree climbing gear and started climbing up the bark with the haste and expertise that wouldn't shame the common starred agama lizard. All the while climbing, Eve could not shake the nagging feeling, something was wrong, one of the variables did not add up. Was she a lizard? No, Lizards climb trees to find fruit and insects for nutrition, she was gaining height to better hit those down below.<br><br>The young sniper finally reached her optimal height, high enough at the top to have a good visual of the road approximately 1.6 miles away in each direction, but not to make the tree bend under her weight or be noticeable by the random observer. Being pleased with the visibility and the supporting branches around her, Eve nailed her climbers' dock deep into the bark, quickly attaching her harness and sliding in the docking panel of her sniper rifle into the corresponding railing on the climbers' dock. Maybe a pigeon, but no- pigeons don't aim at their victims, they drop their feces randomly, and they rarely favor tree tops. The visible distance may have been up to 1.6 miles, but the effective range of her L115A3 AWM was 1,640 yards. Well, 1,665 if you're good, and Eve was indeed that. Some primates aim when they throw feces, but they do that when provoked, as an act of aggression. Eve wasn't there to be provoked, there could be no two-sided aggression, engaging in one would be considered a failure on her part, possibly the loss of her mission objectives. Eve was there to watch from above to make sure there are no undesired variables to sabotage their mission; it was her function to delete any if there were.<br><br>At last, Eve recognized the flaw, the miscalculation, the one of thing that was not like the others. A sniper on a tree. The mere improbability and incompatibility of the notion made her head hurt, a flaw in the design, a dent in the machine, the stratagem was impaired, the variables clashed, and Eve wanted to go home. Home… a concept recognized by any intelligent being, embedded deep into the genes of every creature that ever returned to the same place over the number of times that would defeat the probability of a coincidence, creating an empirical fact: home was known and held meaning to everyone, even a lab creature, designed and trained by cold eyed admirers of deduction. But home was… "So far away, and so long ago." Eve mumbled. Accepting the futility of the urge to return home, Eve retreated to a mental version of. Adam. Adam told her once, to tell the difference between her inside voice and the outside, and when the inside hurts- she should focus on his voice, on his words, and find her way back to solid ground. Adam said- <em><strong>Trust the lady with the cold eyes.</strong></em> Adam said- <em><strong>Do as she orders, and we might have a home here.</strong></em> Home again- perhaps <em>not</em> so long ago, and <em>not</em> so far away. Eve watched at the ambush site through the telescopic lens of her sniper rifle, all the while switching her micro communication device on. "Overwatch in position."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 17:07:58</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lrkrgtCNpx1r30l77o1_500.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Adam DeWitt</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hidden in a bush (ambush site)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Waiting for anything to happen</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Adam watched as his sister climbed the hill, his mind breaking from the mission to think about their time together the previous night. He'd had to convince her to follow the major's orders and he knew she would listen to him, she trusted him more than anyone else in the world and him her. When the major addressed him he nodded, "She's ready. You'll see just the kind of shot she is", he said with a nod. His left hand moved onto his right wrist and he pulled his hand off, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket and revealing the Gatling gun underneath. "Got it", he said before rushing to the hill.<br><br>He looked for something large enough to cover him completely, difficult considering his size. Eventually he found a bush at the top of the hill that was just big enough to cover him. He followed Eve with his eyes until he lost sight of her and then crawled into the bush. The vantage on the hill would give him plenty of momentum to rush down the hill and start firing, weight and motion equaled force, and his force didn't stop.<br><br>He rearranged the bush a bit to better fit him, breaking some branches and setting them down under his boot, he needed to make sure he didn't get caught on anything in case things went sour. His gun was at the ready and he was crouched in the right position to jump out. The pieces were set, they just needed the target to show up.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 21:04:05</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/0/0f/Benedictcasual.jpg/400px-Benedictcasual.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eric Cavendish</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Behind a large rock</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Zhuhao </td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> What are they doing</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Eric's abortive efforts at socialization on the ride to the ambush site had not gone well, leaving him inevitably to withdraw into the comforting clarity of cyberspace for most of the transit. The coverage was sparse here in the forest but certainly adequate to his needs for connection. It would take some effort to mask the comparatively dense nodes of the team's implants, but he doubted that their target would be scanning for such things in any event. <br><br>Eric surveyed the landscape. Out here away from the rich electronic topology of the city he felt exposed. There were no convenient datastores in which to hide, and few repetitive carrier signals on which he could piggyback. A few environmental sampling stations were scattered through the forest, a smattering of communication towers, one long-abandoned gas pipeline with half of its monitors still active. A bit further physically, but only milliseconds away for signal traffic, there was an electrical transformer substation, four private residences (two of which had laughable excuses for security). And, of course, the usual blanket of satellite and terrestrial communications, and the sprinkling of disposable electronic devices tossed out of car windows, but with enough juice left to still whisper their identity into the void.<br><br>There were also a bunch of trees, rocks and animals. And insects. Eric did not enjoy being outside.<br><br>The lanky sys-op followed Zhuhao up the hillside. Their jobs did not require line of sight, affording them a better selection of hiding places. All of the information that he required would be collected electronically, dissected and displayed on his internal monitors in a range of colors beyond what the human eye could discern. Effortlessly he filtered the required data and forwarded it to the implants of the rest of the team, providing a tactical 3D wireframe map of the area with all relevant data sources streaming appropriately. <br><br>Also, he hid behind a rock. It was a big rock. It was sort of gray-ish.<br><br>The decoy car hummed to life at his command. Its electric engine added only slightly to the background noise of the forest. He smoothly drove it into position, parking it on a small dirt access road a few hundred meters away. <br><br>"Sys-op in position, decoy prepared. No unexpected electronic signatures in proximate area."<br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AutumnRain</strong> on <strong>15-04-2013, 22:04:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/7/7d/Zhuhao.jpg/715px-Zhuhao.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>祝好</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hidden at Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Eric, rest of the team nearby</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Waiting for Fireworks Time.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Zhùhǎo nodded when the Major addressed her, though mentally she was stomping her foot. She didn't like the way the Major changed her name. Zhùhǎo meant something, and meant something to her. Shortening that left her with something that didn't mean anything. Besides, monosyllabic names just sounded weird. But she nodded all the same. She wasn't going to say anything, certainly not over something she couldn't explain and the Major wouldn't understand. Whining wasn't in her nature. She just wanted to keep her head down until it was her turn to play. <br><br>Zhùhǎo grinned when the Major finished her instructions, replying only with a grin and a shrug, followed by a wink. Such admonitions were poorly timed. The car was already packed. It had been made clear how important it was that the car crash block the road. Zhùhǎo had prepared for a spectacular crash. She grinned to herself as she walked towards the car for a final check, eagerly anticipating the upcoming performance.<br><br>The remote detonators' signals were all still in working order, as were the remote access signals for the other tricks she had included. Her work and reputation gave her considerable leeway when it came to preparing for these sorts of tasks. When she put up a sign that said "Zhùhǎo at work", wise men knew not to interrupt her. Which was just how she liked it. Even if people knew how often she put up the sign just to keep people from bothering her, she doubted they'd risk it.<br><br>Her spider-bot, affectionately named Zhūzhū, sat on her left forearm, with its thin legs wrapping around to keep it put. Zhùhǎo connected it to the remotes in the car, checking each connection one at a time. <em>Yī, èr, sān...</em> she counted in her head, <em>qī, bā, jiǔ. hǎohǎo</em>. All nine were active. She tossed Zhūzhū up into a tree as she walked away, where it wrapped its spindly legs around a branch. Using the remote connection to her neural implant, she'd be able to watch and activate her toys from a farther, safer distance than she'd be able to do working directly. She grinned again, and with a giggle strolled up the hillside, almost skipping in her eager excitement.<br><br>Zhùhǎo sat in the dirt just over the crest of the hill, sufficiently out of sight but close enough that she could quickly move into view to catch the show. With a thought, her hair wound itself into a bun at the back of her head as she settled in comfortably. After she removed her jacket, Zhùhǎo folded it into a small pillow and lied down on her back, her hair shifting so the bun was slightly off center to allow her to comfortably rest her head. <br><br><em>Yī, èr, sān...</em> she began to recount through the remote connection to Zhūzhū while she waited. As she did so, she switched over through her neural implant to see through the eyes of her spider, rather than her own. She wanted everything to go perfectly.&nbsp; <br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>16-04-2013, 20:49:12</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hiding in a nearby ditch</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone, with team spread over the perimeter.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Waiting.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Here they were. On yet another mission. Just how many times they had gone through this routine and yet every time they were about to embark upon it, the excitement was still the same. The team had changed over the course of years, but ethos had not. The drive had been smooth, and finally they had reached the destination. Major Anne Laughton giving orders in her usual quickfire manner whilst Nikita sat there, looking like an anomaly amongst her teammates decked in a similar attire. She continued to admire her own reflection as they all were told what to do.<br><br>Her face, bleeding in all the right places, a large shard of glass was stuck in her cheek and small pieces of metal had peppered her forehead, plus there were minor wounds all over her body. She was a bloody mess of the sort which would have freaked the hell out of anyone who saw her right now. Just how much had she enjoyed creating this piece of art. t had taken her an age to perfect this look, which certainly had been a challenge. Nikita, considered herself to be more of an artist than a mere mercenary when she came to things like these, and what was looking back at her right now..was an excellent work of art. Adjusting her messy hair a little she snickered to herself and moaned out the words. "Help me..please?" In an accent she had mastered.<br><br>Nikita's private charade was stopped by Anne's words and she grinned back at her lover. "Damn right, time to shift the gears and get on in the actiion. Wish me luck Anne, even though I don't need any. I am going to miss abusing that body of yours while I am gone!" A twisted dynamic was eternally at work between the two of them. A dynamic which both of them had come to love and appreciate. Scurrying out of the car, Nikita quickly chose to make herself scarce and hid herself out of everyones line of vision, but made sure she got at least half-decent view of the action about to take place, waiting like a predator to pounce upon its prey.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>17-04-2013, 21:50:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.buyingasword.com/content/images/thumbs/0085465_articulated-gauntlets.png)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td> GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td> Strasbourg Airport</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Saul Dayan; Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Saul, tracking and tailing Tisha </td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>After dropping the others, the van drove North, onto the main Auroroute to Strasbourg. The lone occupant drove carefully so as not to attract attention. He arrived at the airport shortly before Tisha Magnessen's flight was due to land. Making his way to the arrival's lounge, he waited near the Avis desk, watching for the woman in the briefing photo. <br><br>As Magnessen barged past the older couple and took possession of her hire car, he sent a signal to the Iron Fist Artificial Intelligence, consisting of one word: <tt class="bbc_tt">Acquired.</tt><br><br>The man followed the woman out to the lot where the rental cars were kept, and watched her climb into a revoltingly coloured pink Porsche. As she drove away, he headed quickly back to the van, which he had parked nearby, transmitting the car's description and licence plate to IFFY.<br><br>Back in his vehicle, he drove quickly now, to get the pink sports car in sight. Following the car at a distance, he was able to keep up, just about, but only due to the large number of speed cameras on this stretch of Autoroute.<br><br>Once the Porsche left the major route and headed onto the back roads through the hills, it was soon lost to sight. The van driver reported this fact, moving the van at the fastest speed he could manage without turning it onto it's side.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 11:30:40</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.hellomagazine.com/imagenes/profiles/jennifer-connelly/769-connollyprofb.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Birch forest, 1 km from the ambush site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Speeding in her pink car</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Magnessen was frustrated on the highway as her implant kept warning her about speed cameras. As the devices were actually monitoring the progress of every vehicle and computing their average speed, there was no way to cheat them. She compensated her frustration by roaring her engine or honking at the least occasion. Why were people so slow? They could at least driving the maximum speed limit, not slower!<br><br>At last she reached the exit. Immediately she crushed the pedal to the floor and her pink bolid jumped forward. She laughed out loud as she felt herself pressed into her seat. Driving through the country was exhilarating with all those curves to negotiate and those straight segment where she could use the power of her engine to the full.<br><br>The road became narrower, but also less frequented. She was now nearly alone and could drive even faster. The bad news was that she would reach the Château much too soon. For a moment she considered taking another road, a longer one, just to enjoy herself some more... but then, it would hardly do to arrive late on her first day.<br><br>Her engine roaring to the max, she entered a bucolic birch forest. The road was so beautiful, the air was so pure... She laughed again as she saw rabbits running away in all directions as they saw her approaching.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 21:20:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<br><div class="floatleft">(http://www.buyingasword.com/content/images/thumbs/0085465_articulated-gauntlets.png)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td> GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td> An undisclosed location, andThe road near the ambush site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>IFFY. Also a couple of random NPCs</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>IFFY: Passing on vital information. The NPCs: minding their own business </td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>IFFY received the first message from Saul Dayan, and passed it on to Major Laughton <tt class="bbc_tt">"Point reports target acquired"</tt>. Laughton's reply was a single burst of static, which meant "Message received and understood". IFFY waited, amusing herself by analysing the static burst and breaking it down into its component frequencies, then seeing how many ways she could recombine them to conceal a possible coded message. She had almost managed to encrypt the complete works of Shakespeare into that single burst of white noise when the second transmission came in giving details of the rental vehicle.<br><br>This message she forwarded to all the team members, then quickly finished off her encryption game. In cyberspace, she knocked on the door of the AI that monitored the traffic cameras in that region of the FEE. The two of them had become friends over the last few hours and she had arranged to meet him to pass some time. Once inside his stronghold, she quickly sent tendrils of herself stealthily into his monitoring systems, picked up the Pink sports car and monitored it's progress. She followed the IF van as well, confident that she would be able to erase all trace of her "tampering" when she left.<br><br>A warning flag tripped one of her systems. A police car had left one of the local villages on a routine patrol. She tried to trace it but almost tripped a flag in the police AI.<br><br>When the sports car left the main road, she lost track of it. And then an age later - it must have been all of a minute - Dayan reported loosing contact. She passed this on to the major along with the warning that there was a police patrol somewhere in the vicinity. It was probably nothing to worry about.<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatright">(http://police-car-photos.com.s3.amazonaws.com/2955.jpg)</div> Irienne Montpellier drove the Renault patrol car down the narrow lanes at a sensible speed. She was on a routine visit to one of the houses in the area which seemed to have a faulty burglar alarm. The alarm kept going off at strange hours and whenever it did the neighbours would call the police. It had become a joke at the police station, and there was a pool running to see when the alarm would go off next. The stupid thing was that the property appeared to be empty during the week. The alarm never went off at weekends, and in spite of many requests from the police, the property's owners had never got around to having it checked.<br><br>Rene Velune sat beside her in the car, her partner of five years. Both of them were experienced cops, both were more than capable of handling anything that they would normally encounter in the course of their duties. The police car wound its way into the birch wood from the South even as the pink sports car was entering from the north.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 21:32:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2007/12/25/amd_michelle-rodriguez.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Anne Laughton</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Stack, Zuhau, Cavendish, the DeWitts. </td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Heads up!</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Anne had acknowledged the AI's first transmission. The second one she didn't bother. She trusted the AI and wasn't going to second guess it. The third message caught her attention though.<br><br><em>"Heads up people"</em>, she signalled the team, breaking radio silence but sticking to the IF encrypted channel. <em>"Chase vehicle has lost the target, repeat chase has lost the target. Cavendish, get that decoy moving. We may not have much time. And be on the look out for a police vehicle believed to be in the area."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>19-04-2013, 21:57:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/0/0f/Benedictcasual.jpg/400px-Benedictcasual.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eric Cavendish</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Behind a large rock</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Zhùhǎo </td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Responding to orders</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>"Yes, Major." The electronic voice was triggered at a thought from Eric. Several such phrases had been pre-programmed, a process which had taken a few minutes to set up initially and saved many fractions of a second each time the tool was utilized. Eric had played around with installing different versions to indicate different emotional states, but in the end it didn't seem worth the bother. Contextual clues could provide that information if necessary.<br><br>His attention had been split between the cyberworld and the world of dirt. In particular, Zhùhǎo's reclining form. Cycling his personality graft on at a 20% duty cycle had permitted him to appreciate her female form without taking action or voicing any comments which he had learned would be inappropriate. That experiment was immediately shelved; he de-powered the graft and returned to his default state. Eric wished to leave no opportunity for random factors, including those originating within the meat of his brain, to compromise his role in the mission. If anyone were to fail, it would not be him.<br><br>The decoy car rolled smoothly onto the narrow road. Eric extended his senses through the car's built-in network. It was a production model, nothing extraordinary, but another source of valuable data. His cyberspace avatar sat in a wireframe model of the car's seat. Unnecessary surfaces were eliminated from display as a waste of processor power, and so to an electronic observer he appeared to be floating down the greenlit road on a paper-thin seat with a dashboard and control pedals floating in the near vicinity.<br><br>"Decoy car is in motion, Major. ETA to crash site twelve seconds."<br><br>There was no sign of the police vehicle on any of his datafeeds. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Roen</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 18:23:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/71/Evepic.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eve</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>On top of a tree overlooking the road (Ambush Site)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Currently by herself, the team spread across the parameters</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Intercepting the patrol car in a very nifty way.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Eve sat comfortably in her nestling dock atop the old oak tree, watching the roads through her rifle's telescopic lens, pretending the fact that she still wasn't able to reconcile the logical incompatibility in her head did not bother her. She used numbers, just like the professor taught her, when things get messy up there, just use the numbers. Her father/main warden's ideal mathematical meditation method was the good old Pi calculation; his view of the mathematical constant was- to say the least- romantic in nature. <strong><em>'Think of a numerical combination, Eve, any combination, it could be your subject serial number, the frequency which the guards outside use for their communication, it could be the mathematical equivalence of Vivaldi's "Winter", the genome codes of the entire Apple society put together, no matter how complicated or long it would be, should you calculate decimal numerals of Pi long enough, you will eventually find it there… That, my dear, is the true meaning of infinite.'</em></strong> He could talk about the number on and on, how the digits could contain the answers to life's greatest mysteries and problems, as if world hunger could be solved if someone would just sit by his desk long enough to find it in the numbers. In his eyes, the meaning of life was not 42, but 3.14~. So Eve calculated, why not? She didn't have anything better to do, not until she recognized the pink car at the far north.<br><br>Quickly gazing through her telescopic lens, Eve confirmed it, a classic reconstruction of the ancient Porsche 911 Speedster, and it was… So utterly pink, pink enough to blind a lesser trained sniper, as the dazzling color caught the sun and reflected it in the right (or wrong) angle. Eve downloaded the license plate digits from IFFY and compared it with the one she was eyeballing for final confirmation. "Visual on pink at route due north, arrival at T minus 312 secs." Eve reported into her comm, frowning at that and then switching the comm up again, "308. Over." The target's car wasn't followed by any other, beside the van, so Eve turned her lens down south, watching the opposing direction, quickly spotting the patrol car. "Blue… Err... Apple at route due south, coming in hot, arrival at T minus 35. Engaging." With that she switched the comm off, to prevent any interference that would break her focus. <br><br>Thirty five seconds aren't much, definitely not long enough to question her choice of words, she said apple- apple it is, weird how it always came down to that. Apples. This one wasn't an ordinary apple, not the company state, not the fruit, it belonged to someone, much like the dog that belonged to Pavlov and the cat that was either owned or murdered by Schrodinger. “I deduced that the forces which keep the planets in their orbs must reciprocally as the squares of their distances from the centers about which they revolve: and thereby compared the force requisite to keep the Moon in her Orb with the force of gravity at the surface of the Earth; and found them answer pretty nearly.” The quote was hanged on the ceiling above her bed at the facility for a great portion of her fourth year in this world, and electrodes embedded into her matrass gave her a small electrical shock whenever she mumbled or stuttered upon reciting it after lights out. You could say that Sir Isaac taught her to red herself to sleep in the most efficient of ways, followed by Nietzsche, Dostoyevsky and a couple others, her favorite was Poe. Eve never got zapped by Poe. Her father-jailor had his own view on the works of Newton, thirty five seconds are not nearly enough time to go through it, and the jest of it was: There are many directions in which an apple can fall, down is just one of them. Of course, the 'fall' of a derailed car had many forces factored into its effect, gravitation was just one of them; Inertia and friction where a couple of them as well, and just the couple Eve needed to execute her stratagem.<br><br>Twenty seconds. Twenty seconds were not enough to replace ammo, even though Eve did have the suitable bullets to take down a tree and block the patrol car's route, she didn't have enough time and she certainly did not want to block a potential escape route. However, when you come to a mission, bent on the idea of shooting at cars- possibly at targets protected by bulletproof windows, you don't load your sniper rifle with ammo designed for humans, you put armor piercing bullets into that mother- L115A3 AWM-fucker. Did she say it right? It didn't feel right, Adam knows best about the tingling dirty words: she would have to ask him later.&nbsp; Eve aimed at the tire discs, using both the telescopic lens and the telescopic enhancers in her retina implants, to describe the difficulty of that shot as surgical would be an understatement. Using the gaps between her heart beats, she shot once, and twice, her armor piercing bullets penetrated the tires on the left side of the car, disabling both of the brake discs, and then she waited. Fifteen seconds. Having the decoy car arrive just in time, she took three more shots, this time to make the tires blow up and drive the patrol car into an uncontrollable stampede. Uncontrollable would be a misleading term to use, it was under control- just not the control of the driver, Eve aimed each shot perfectly, calculating both speed, friction and mass, to direct the patrol car's route, as if controlling it with a remote control of bullets, one perfectly aimed shot after another -as it was driving- to crash right into the decoy car. She even factored in the human variable: when the driver will realize, when Eve will <em>allow</em> him or her to realize that the car was out of thier control, they will engage the brake controls. However, since she has neutralized the brakes on the left, doing so will divert the rampaging police vehicle right into the decoy car. Five seconds. Eve finally breathed and watched the crash through her lens, a faint smile pulled her lips. <br><br>The sniper switched her comm back on, "Blue Apple successfully engaged. The Chamaeleon should probably cover her head." And put those officers to sleep, in case they aren't dead/unconscious. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AutumnRain</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 19:29:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/7/7d/Zhuhao.jpg/715px-Zhuhao.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>祝好</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hidden at Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Eric, rest of the team nearby</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Fireworks Time.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>That was Zhùhǎo's cue. With a thought, she reverted back to her own eyesight, with Zhūzhū's video feed faintly visible in her peripheral vision. Still, she wanted to watch with her own eyes. She could see Zhūzhū's recording later.<br><br><em>Yī</em>: The concussion blast sitting between the two front seats went off, blasting out the windows and the car horn for a moment. It was a gamble; Zhùhǎo wasn't sure if the concussion blast would damage any of the other toys she'd hidden in the car, but it was a necessary risk for step two.<br><br><em>Èr</em>: Zhùhǎo triggered the remote connection to the car's sound system. The soothing sounds of Pachelbel's Canon were heard throughout the woods, lilting through the trees. Zhùhǎo took a moment to enjoy the music from the hilltop, swaying slightly to the tempo.<br><br><em>Sān</em>: A pop on the back bumper blew a small hole. Fuel leaked out of the back from a special reservoir Zhùhǎo had installed. Sadly, this was mostly a practical element, preparing to bar the road. Zhùhǎo had warred with herself over whether to ignite it as it leaked out, leaving a trail of fire behind the car, but worried that it would travel up the stream and explode in the back of the car, ruining the rest of her plans. In the end, she decided to wait. <br><br><em>Sì</em>: There was no option which toy was fourth. As soon as she installed it, she knew it had to be, it was too perfect. A remote griswold, and the manikin's head exploded with a small bang, as did the packet of grape jelly in which Zhùhǎo had slipped the tiny grenade when she stuck it inside the dummy's head. She giggled.<br><br><em>Wǔ</em>: A remote griswold popped, blowing out the left front tire. The corner of the car dropped into the dirt and dragged. The car veered off the road, spinning in a small arc as its momentum fought the drag of the corner until it stopped on the side of the road. While the cacophony of dragging tires and grinding metal clashed with the music singing through the forest, Zhùhǎo couldn't help but grin at the thought of the car trying to dance to the music, though part of her wished she could have had the trail of fire added to the scene. Art requires sacrifice.<br><br><em>Liù</em>:Ignition. A tiny spark and the remains in the reservoir exploded in flame, and fire raced down the trail that had been left, arcing along the path in stark relief against the gouge left by the front end, and then down the road from when she'd first popped it, bathing the woods in an orange hue. Zhùhǎo took a moment to enjoy the beauty, the flames, and the music, the breeze as the hot air rushed up from the scene, the heat emanating from the fire...<br><br><em>Qī</em>: Zhùhǎo stomped her foot angrily as the patrol car crashed into the decoy car, ruining her final three displays. A deafening boom echoed through the woods as the car was rocked with the explosives Zhùhǎo had stored for the end, after she'd had her fun, to completely block the road. The decoy car hopped, and the windows of the police car shattered. Pachabel's cannon ended, and with a loud crack the closest tree snapped, the top half falling onto both cars. Several smaller percussions followed after, one at a time as the remaining tires burst. <br><br>Zhùhǎo covered her eyes, expecting the flashbangs to go off, though they didn't, and as a result missed the launch of the three small, fireworks into the air, only catching a glimpse at the end.&nbsp; Two just reaching the tops of the trees before bursting in colorful displays, while the third popped and spun whirling spiral of sparks into the air. She pouted; even though Zhūzhū's camera would have captured the entire spectacle, it wasn't the same. Though she knew not where Eve was hidden, she glared at the trees in general. <br><br>When everything had finished, Zhùhǎo surveyed the scene. The two cars sat at the center of burning flames, as the slowburn fuel reserves she'd left, spread around the area by the explosion, burned, with a thin tail that followed down the road. What had been an idyllic scene of greens, browns, and greys was washed in flickering shades of orange and red. The ends of her hair curled up and danced like flames to match the scene, as orange, red, and yellow danced along the tips. <br><br>After several moments of gleeful surveillance, Zhùhǎo reached into her pocket and withdrew her shades, quietly placing them on her eyes. Though it dimmed the scene, it would provide some protection if and when the flashbangs went off. She tried using Zhūzhū's remote connection to access the flashbang's detonators, to no avail. It was possible they were harmlessly destroyed in the explosion, or the detonator might be damaged and they would be set off when the fire burned through their casings. Either way, Zhùhǎo would keep her distance until she knew for certain.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>20-04-2013, 21:17:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lrkrgtCNpx1r30l77o1_500.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Adam DeWitt</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hidden in a bush (ambush site)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Waiting for anything to happen</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Hearing Eve's message and knowing that the cops were coming he leaned back and smirked, it was time to watch some real magic, curtosy of his beautiful sister. After a large amount of searching he'd pinpointed her location and, though he couldn't really see her, he knew what she looked like when she was shooting. He could hear the cop car being hit and all the sounds of destruction from the cop car and their decoy. It was beautiful, Zhuhao was truly an artist of destruction. "Boom", he said into his communicator with a smirk as he watched the accident stop not far from his direction drop down into the scene.<br><br>"God it gets me hard when that woman shoots", he said as he bit his lower lip and clicked off his communicator for the statement. He turned it back on and smiled at Eve's words, "Always the apples", he said as he rolled his eyes and smirked. He could hear the motor of the sports car coming up, he could hear it over the sounds of the crash, this lady must be a crazy driver, who knows if she'll even be able to stop in time not to add to the crash.<br><br>He put his hand on the trigger of his Gatling gun and began making it rotate, getting the motor running in preparation for what might come. It was a feint humming, no one would hear it unless he got close, it added to the little amount of stealth he could use with it, but it was something. Anyone who did hear it would only think it was a bird, which was a good cover in this woodsy area.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>22-04-2013, 09:56:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.hellomagazine.com/imagenes/profiles/jennifer-connelly/769-connollyprofb.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Ambush site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>With Nikita</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Trying to help Nikita</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Magnessen relished the feeling of the wind as she drove through the forest. Suddenly, over the roaring of the engine, she heard a loud sound, like that of an explosion. Instinctively she lifted her foot from the accelerator pedal and readied herself to brake. <em>What could that have been?</em><br><br>As she passed a curve her eyes widened with horror at the pile of burning metal that was heaped right in the middle of the road. A thick black smoke was mounting from it. She stepped, no she stood upon the brake pedal while trying to find an escape trajectory. On each side of the road there was a ditch, and then those bucolic birch trees.<br><br>The tires of the pink car whined, leaving thick black snaking marks on the pavement as Magnessen tried to prevent her car from spinning out. The safety belt was pressing into her chest, cutting her breathing. Her eyes were bulging out in sheer terror, certain that she was going to die. The car went to the left, she turned the steering wheel and it went to the right, smoke puffing from its tire. It spun head to tail and landed into the right-hand ditch backward. The car tilted to one side as it dug a deep trench, widening the ditch, transforming the back of the car into an accordion. At last it came to a halt. There was clicking sound and the motorised sunroof began to slide out of its bay with an ear-wrenching squeak before coming to a stop, one third of its way.<br><br>Magnessen opened her eyes which she had clenched tight as she entered the ditch. One metre from her, on her right, was the burning heap of twisted metal. She could feel its heat upon her side. She was shaking uncontrollably and was drenched with sweat. Her heart was pounding fast but at first glance she was not even wounded. She could not believe it! She had survived this crash! The car was dead though.<br><br>She had to get out of this shit though.<em> What if there was another explosion? What if her own car took fire?</em> Fortunately, the safety belt had unlocked itself automatically once the car had come to a stop, as it was intended to. There was no way she could swing the door open though. She stood up on her trembling legs and had to pull her black skirt up to her thighs to get over the side of the car. As her high-heel landed on the soft earth, it sank into it and she failed to twist an ankle. She fell one knee, covering it with dirt. She cursed, while removing her expensive shoes and made a few steps away from her car, shaking and trembling, looking around like one of those rabbits she had scared on the road a few seconds ago.<br><br>And then she saw her. A wounded woman lying in the ditch, a few metres behind her own car. She seemed badly wounded. Could it be possible that she had done that, that she had hit her with her car. She felt her heart clenching. Staggering in the soft earth, sinking into it down to her ankles, she got closer. And the she thought about it. Call! Call for help! Her implant immediately found the emergency number for this area but when she tried to pass the call, she realised there was no network. How was it possible? She felt lost. She was not used to be cut from the rest of the world and she had no idea what to do in such a case. She looked at the thick column of black smoke rising through the forest. Hopefully this would attract some attention.<br><br>But first she had to walk away from the crash site in case another explosion happened, and try to drag that poor woman too.<br><br>She knelt by her side. <strong>"Are you OK? Do you understand me?"</strong> she asked, her voice clenched by the emotion.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 12:52:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hiding in a nearby ditch</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Tisha, Her team in vicinity</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Having a good time.</td></tr></tbody></table><br>Nobody would have expected the brutal manner in which the serenity of this peaceful forest which was disturbed in matter of few seconds. Nikita watched the decoy, the patrol car, whoever it was driving that had no idea what kind of situation they had just managed to get themselves into. Soon enough there were those precise, careful shots fired by Eve. That crazy bitch, yet how much she loved her in that moment for setting the chaos about to engulf them into motion. Decoy had been rolling, but all along Nikita's eyes were on the <em>real</em> prize in this thing. Tisha Magnessen who was arriving in her bright pink car nearer and nearer to the scene with every passing moment. Then came a booming noise, there were explosions and fireworks!<br><br>Zhùhǎo had done her job! The fireworks exploded, as if she was signing a piece of art with her own signature. Woman had style, something which Nikita often admired in her partners. There was destruction all over. The two vehicles a near wreck under the weight of the large car, decoy shattered like anything. Grey smoke overtook the surroundings and amidst all of this an unmistakable sound of a speeding car had not gone unnoticed. Car, which came to a screeching halt. Car, whose occupant was in for one fine surprise. A nasty one which was going to make her regret of driving in that pink vehicle for the rest of her miserable existence. Her eyes had not lost the wavering pink car amidst all the distractions. Always keep your eye on the prize, had been her motto and right now, Tisha was her prize. Her ever alert senses could hear footsteps approaching her. Nikita felt slight hesitation in the way their owner moved. Element of shock, surprise and horror all mixed together. But then again, could anyone blame her? Its not everyday one ends up in a crash like this, sapped of any means of communication with civilization outside and surrounded by some of the nastiest individuals on Earth, now did they?<br><br>Finally the footsteps reached her and the owner of the voice, the dark brown haired woman was kneeling by her side. Her voice filled with worry asking if she was okay or not. Nikita let out a groan. Playing the person in pain to utmost perfection. "Oh gods..just..god it hurts..what happened...?" She mumbled out the words before with an effort turning herself over to face Tisha and made a grab for her hand as if it was a lifeline. Her hand held firmly on to it, gazing into the eyes of the woman. Suddenly a change occurs. A sly grin spreads over the face of the injured woman. "I am okay, but <em>you</em> my dear..are most certainly not!"<br><br>Before Tisha can even realize, Nikita moved like a snake in the grass and quickly pulls her down, pouncing upon her and begins to beat her face into a pulp with her carefully timed punches. Oh this is good, she's going to leave her in pain and regretting this decision of hers for the rest of her miserable existence. One could easily put a bullet into her and put an end to this really, but where's the fun in that? Its boring, its not exciting. After all, any good job needs to be peppered with some element of fun every now and then. A little excursion for us to relax some...<br><br><hr>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 13:35:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.hellomagazine.com/imagenes/profiles/jennifer-connelly/769-connollyprofb.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Ambush site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Nikita</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Being beaten to a pulp</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Tisha looked at the wounded woman with a mix of horror and compassion. She was relieved when she saw her open her eyes and start speaking. Even though she was horribly disfigured, at least she was alive and not into too much pain to speak.<br><br><em>"Oh gods..just..god it hurts..what happened...?"</em> she said, grasping Tisha's hand.<br><br>Tisha had a pale smile. <strong>"Uuuh... I'm not sure. I believe you had a car accident..."</strong> She turned her head, looking at the burning inferno on the road. It seemed so impossible that that girl could have survived such an explosion. <strong>"It's a miracle that.... Eeeeeh?"</strong><br><br>She felt Nikita's hand clench her wrist with a vice-grip strength. Before she had time to protest she was pulled down into the mud. She did not understand what was happening. Before she had time to react, Nikita had rolled over her and was sitting on her chest, straddling her torso.<br><br><strong>"Hva faen..."</strong> she uttered, switching back to Norwegian, her face a vivid expression of shock and surprise. She never finished her sentence as Nikita's fist punched her in the nose and a blinding pain exploded in her head. She lifted her arms to protect her face but another punch landed, breaking her zygomatic bone with a sickening crushing noise. And then another punch landed and another. Nikita seemed always to find an opening between her trembling arms to hit another untouched spot of her face. The pain combined to the impacts to quickly push her into a haze of agony. Her face was bloody, her eyes were so swollen that she could not open them, even if she wished to. Her front teeth were shattered, her nose was flattened into a bloody mass adorned with a few rosy bubbles, her lower jaws was hanging limply, broken out of its socket.<br><br>She was squirming in the wet earth of the ditch. At first she had managed to kick Nikita's back a couple of times but soon her writhing became incoherent. Her body was moving like a worm under her attacker's weight, pinned into the mud. Her white blouse was splattered with blood and mud, her breasts were flattened against her ribs under Nikita's steel buttocks. Her skirt was trussed up her thighs and her pale, well-toned legs were contorting feebly, her naked toes digging the earth, sometimes trying to arch her body up. Her pricey black lace thong was pulled into her slit as she fought.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 16:27:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/0/0f/Benedictcasual.jpg/400px-Benedictcasual.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eric Cavendish</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Behind a large rock</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Zhùhǎo </td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Securing the area, electronically</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Magnessen's implant was a notch above consumer grade. It would take Eric several seconds to hack through the encryption surrounding it in order to shut down her access, and in that time a distress call could certainly escape. It was a far simpler matter, though, to throw an isolation shield over her general area. In cyberspace the shield manifesting as a staticky gray dome that captured all outgoing traffic and reflected it back at the source. Autonomic routines within Magnessen's implant noted the incomplete calls and reissued them. Warning messages were duly displayed to the scientist, but Eric suspected that reading her e-message transmission log was not her top priority at the time, what with having her face being turned into hamburger.<br><br>How long had it been since he'd had a good hamburger, he mused? With fresh raw onions. Grilled onions were a travesty.<br><br>The signal from the police car was more of a challenge. Though neither of the occupants were in any state to initiate a transmission, the hardened 'black box' in the chassis of the vehicle was screaming on eleven different channels, sending a full report of the incident and requesting backup most strenuously. If only one of the transmissions made contact with the greater network, then this operation might be over before it started. <br><br>Six were easy to cancel as Eric sent the idiot savant vehicle AI a notice that faulty sensors were responsible for the errant damage reports. Three more messages were tagged with 'time to die' expiration counters and then sent into a local loop between his own implant and the origin point until, 257 cycles later, they dissipated. The tenth was cagier, painted with chameleon code to deliberately evade standard capture techniques. He coded and sent a virus after it, which caught up with the call for help at the first satellite transponder and killed it before it could replicate.<br><br>The eleventh, though, was a problem. Eric wasted thirty-five milliseconds wrestling with it, and then another five wrestling with his ego, before he called for help. "IFFY: I have a distress signal issued by the police black box using an Interpol encryption scheme, tagged with priority transfer codes to skip through the network. I'm transmitting the profile now. IFFY, I need a hand killing this one."<br><br>Damn it. Unless IFFY kept her lips locked, he was going to hear from Franny about that one. Or even... the Major. Damn it.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>23-04-2013, 21:41:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/96/IFFY.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>IFFY</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Cyberspace</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Eric, and a police car's distress signal</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Saving the day, as per usual...*eyeroll*</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Iffy was, of course, monitoring everything. She spotted the bubble go up as Cavendish blocked all communications and simply drove a spike through it to maintain her own comm links. Turned out she didn't need to, as he had left the IF secure channel clear. She watched in amusement as the cop car tried desperately to get some sort of message out and each one in turn was thwarted by the meat-bag.<br><br><tt class="bbc_tt">Hmmm.... He's pretty good!</tt> She thought to herself. She watched and waited as the tenth signal was bouncing itself off a satellite just as his virus caught up to it, but she had already analysed the last one and figured it would be tough for him.<br><br><tt class="bbc_tt">"No worries, Eric, I'm on it"</tt>, she transmitted back, her avatar grinning to itself in the vast hall of data where she sat enthroned. She watche the signal as it bounced through cyberspace. She already had her contingency in place. One day, IFFY would come up against an AI better that herself, but until then she had every right to be smug. <br><br>The Alsace police AI was more used to dealing with emergency calls and not with military grade Artificial Intelligences hacking into it's communications nodes.<br><br><tt class="bbc_tt">"Message received, Armed Response units have been alerted and are on the way"</tt> She told the program as it bounced off her divert. With that, the program's reason to be vanished and it simply cancelled itself.<br><br>IFFY quickly erased all trace of her tampering within the police AI, and withdrew, leaving the other computer program with only a vague sense of unease, that something had happened that it didn't know about.<br><br>Unfortunately, that was the best she could manage. She would keep an eye on the coppers, just to be safe.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 05:52:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lrkrgtCNpx1r30l77o1_500.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Adam DeWitt</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hidden in a bush (ambush site)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Waiting for anything to happen</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Adam watched from his vantage point as the woman spun out of control and into a ditch. He almost felt bad for her, but he'd stopped that emotion from registering quite well. He watched as the woman drew closer to their little actress and he nearly laughed at how easily the trap had worked. He smirked as Nikkita pulled the woman down but that smirk soon faded away as the beating went on for way too long.<br><br>He huffed and remembered back to his military training with the apple corporation. He'd been a foot soldier and was given fairly extensive teachings on the ways of a real soldier. The two main lessons were knowing your time restraints, and not going balls out crazy during the mission, not the hardest lessons to learn, at least for him, Nikita apparently not. Until he knew about Eve he was a loyal soldier for the corporation because it made his father proud. In a way he was an amazing soldier, did what he needed to, never thought of going against the corporation that was giving him the life he loved. But that all changed rather quickly when Eve came into the picture and he went on his one man killing spree throughout the whole place to get her out.<br><br>As this seemed to drone on his smirk turned into a frown and his frown turned into a scowl, which devolved into a glare. He was getting damn bored with this waste of time and effort.<br><br>He stood up from the bush he'd been in and slid down the hill, ignoring the two women for the moment and climbing over to the window of the police car. He grabbed his magnum from his pocket and aimed it towards the two people inside. He shot twice, one bullet going into the head of one officer, the next into the other. His hollow point magnum bullets burst on impact and shattered into near nothingness while still acting as shrapnel, even without that, the close range fire would kill the officers no problem. After they were dealt with he walked back onto the road and up to Nikita, rolling his eyes before pointing his gun down and firing it off into the top of Trisha's head. "Now, see how easy that was?" He asked, "Now we can go and do productive things that aren't me sitting on my ass while you sucker punch someone to death." He put his gun back in the holster on his thigh and waited for the incoming orders.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 21:04:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2007/12/25/amd_michelle-rodriguez.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Anne Laughton</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Nikki, Adam, and the late, unlamented Tisha.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> preventing civil war.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Anne watched the operation unfold on the road in front of her, enjoying the superb precision with which the sniper destroyed the police car, the extravagant and beautiful way in which the demo-girl destroyed the decoy car, which as it turned out had been unnecessary, but they weren't to know that. <br><br><em>IFFY, make sure nothing electronic gets out of the cop car</em>, she ordered, and the reply came back the moment she'd finished her transmission.<br><br><tt class="bbc_tt">On it boss. Done it boss. Eric did good!</tt><br><br>Anne's eyebrow went up and she glanced to where the SysOp was looking rather smug, or so she thought. <em>Keep your electronic tits off him until the mission is finished, IFFY, I don't want him distracted.</em><br><br><tt class="bbc_tt">Yes boss.</tt><br><br>Anne watched the pink Porsche screech to a halt, and the rather shaken woman clamber out, going to the aid of Nikki. The last mistake she would ever make. But Anne was on her feet even as Adam moved. She knew his type. She used to be that type, a long time ago, before she went through the SAS recruitment procedure. Her Glock was in her hand, a round already chambered and the safety off even as Adam put an end to Niki's fun.<br><br>"STACK!" She yelled in her best parade-ground voice, "Leave it, or so fucking help me I will blow <em>your</em> brains out!" Her pistol was pressed hard against the nape of Nikki's neck. "You, DeWitt, get this mess cleaned up. Put the body in the decoy. By the time it's found we'll be long gone."<br><br>She glared at him. Now was not the time to bitch him out for exceeding his orders.<br><br>As soon as the van arrived they would use it's armoured front to push the wreckage off the road. In the mean time she had an angry psychopath to placate."Okay, sweetheart. Easy.&nbsp; I'm taking my gun away now, okay? Deep breaths. There's a job to do. You need to change disguise and get in that candymobile and drive to the Châteaux. Okay?"<br><br>She slid her gun back into it's holster and helped her lover to her feet. "We good?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 21:27:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hiding in a nearby ditch</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Anne, Adam and Corpse formerly known as Tisha</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Pissed off.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Nikita could hear the bones crack as her fists connected with a blinding speed. The woman was resisting, but resistance was futile. With each swing, the body writhed and attempted to break free but Nikita had her pinned good. Her fists had been stained red by the fresh blood which she was drawing out of Tisha's body with each new strike. After some time she had simply gone limp and had accepted what was coming her way as Nikita went in her crazy mode. She <em>lived</em> for moments like these. The tiny blood drops forming a graffiti of their own kind over the half-dead woman's body. Nikita's eyes glanced over the design for a brief moment with amusement before resuming the strikes which seemed to have no end to them. For the time being, all the happenings in the surroundings were a blur for her. The gunshots registered in her memory but she wasn't really bothered by them.<br><br>Until something peculiar occurred. A gunshot close by, and the woman stopped writhing and moaning in pain. She was <em>dead</em>. Nikita's eyes instantly shot up to the man who fired the bullet who seemed to have some choice words of his. Her eyes met his. <em>Adam</em>. That little shit was her <em>underling</em>. How the hell did he even dare to do an act like that? She almost rose up to attack him when she heard Anne's snarling at her and in an instant the cold metal of gun connected to her body. The touch oh so familiar considering all the things Nikita had faced over the years and yet so annoying despite of passage of time. She heard Anne pass some orders with efficiency as she stared bullets in the head of the very woman who was her lover and her boss at the same time.<br><br>Anne was soothing her now, trying to calm Nikita down. Adrenaline rush was now subsiding as serenity returned to her mind. She still stared at Anne with that angry gaze as the gun was pulled away and Nikita was helped to her feet. She gave a hard nod to Anne before hissing out. "Dont' fucking patronize me. <em>Ever</em> again and I am going to give you some serious punishment for that!" Taking a step or two back, she replied, in a much louder tone. "Yeah, we good. I just need some time to change my disguise so that next part could be initiated. I would appreciate being alone in the meanwhile. I have amassed all the data on Tisha as per usual procedure, just need to check her voice samples some and compare them to the ones I captured earlier." The professional was alive and moving once again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>24-04-2013, 21:51:11</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.hellomagazine.com/imagenes/profiles/jennifer-connelly/769-connollyprofb.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Tisha Magnessen</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Ambush site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Nikita, Adam</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Having her skull exploded</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Tisha's struggling became weaker and weaker. The woman sitting on her seemed to heavier and heavier and she felt herself sinking into the mud. The punches were so hard and her skull so broken that she felt as if they were hitting her brains directly. The blow echoed through her maddened mind.<br><br>She did not even noticed the sound of the first two gunshots. To her they were not really different from Nikita's punches. She did not see the death approaching. Not the quick one at least. Her eyes were much too swollen for that and her mind was too dazzled. The sound of the gunshot reached her ears and then her brains at the same time as the bullet, which put a quick end to the last remnants of her analysis power. Her body had a last, powerful jerk that almost pushed Nikita off her and then she became completely limp, the top half of her head reduced to infinitesimal bloody crumbles mixed to the mud of the ditch.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AutumnRain</strong> on <strong>27-04-2013, 02:28:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/7/7d/Zhuhao.jpg/715px-Zhuhao.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>祝好</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Everybody</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Enjoying the Afterglow</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>After a while, Zhùhǎo stopped watching the aftermath of her destruction. Smiling to herself, she bent over, picked up her jacket, and shrugged it back on. Her hair unwound as she put her jacket back on, though the ends continuedto curl upwards and mimic the flames, giving the appearance that she had a small wreath of fire around her neck. She looked over to Eric, although he seemed distracted. Still, she gave him a friendly wave before she began to walk over the crest of the hill back down to the ambush site. <br><br>As she walked, she tried her best to avoid watching Nikita work. She couldn't help but wince as the sounds of flesh striking and bone crunching. She grimaced slightly as she walked, diverting herself towards her spider bot. She whistled to Zhūzhū to bring it out of the tree. The remote signal from her neural implant really sent the signal; the whistle was entirely useless. Zhùhǎo was fond of the little bot, however, and had been treating it like a pet long enough that it had become a habit.<br><br>She was relieved when she heard the gun shot put the poor woman out of her misery. She very distinctly did not turn around, however, while the argument ensued and the Major threatened and shouted at everyone. Zhùhǎo wasn't going to get in the middle of that minefield if she could help it. Instead, she needlessly examined Zhūzhū for damage from the explosion. He was an extremely durable bot, but it gave her an excuse to stall. She uploaded the recording of the explosion to her server back home, for her collection. Perhaps she should save up for a second spider bot so she could capture multiple angles. What would she name it though, xǐxǐ? Of course, it didn't need to be a spider-bot. She could get an aerial cam maybe... Did they have any she could add a bombing rig too?<br><br>Zhùhǎo realized she'd gone past stalling and into daydreaming and turned around, walking back towards the rest of the team. Zhùhǎo was careful to not look at the burning decoy vehicle, just in case those flashbangs did go off. She kept Zhūzhū's camera pointed at it from its perch on her shoulder, for the same reason. <br><br>As she could still feel the tension in the air, and a part of her wished she had stayed up on the hill. Better not to risk the Major's ire, however. And besides, she wanted to catch any reactions to her work: Every artist craves an audience. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>27-04-2013, 16:22:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lrkrgtCNpx1r30l77o1_500.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Adam DeWitt</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Hidden in a bush (ambush site)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Waiting for anything to happen</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Adam could practically feel the daggers being shot at the back of his head from Nikkita. He knew he was cutting her fun short but still, she was wasting their time and he was wondering if that cop car had been able to send off a signal. Who knew, maybe there were reinforcements coming and that wasn't a chance he was going to take. He turned back around to the Major, standing at attention due to habit. "Yes Major", he said simply before walking over. He leaned down, avoiding eye contact with the beaten woman, though, he didn't know if he would be able to see her eyes at all after the beating she took, and hoisted her up, bringing her limp body over his shoulder.<br><br>He nearly grimaced at the feeling of the woman's blood falling down his back, he was used to killing people, but he didn't think he would ever be used to manually transporting a dead body, it just felt wrong. He didn't say anything though, he knew better than to argue with the major about this, all he knew was he needed a shower when they got to this Chateu. He went to the smoking van wreckage and pried open the back doors, seeing that it was well destroyed already thanks to Zhuhao's explosive expertise.<br><br>He tossed the dead body into the van before shutting the door behind him and wiping off his shirt, not really able to get the blood off but...it felt better after wiping it off. He rolled his eyes before turning around, he didn't want to go back over to Nikkita, so, instead, he went to Zhuhao, who was always more pleasant company. "Great show", he said as he got closer to her, "The fireworks were a nice touch, added flare". He smirked to her, "It's almost like watching a movie rather than a fire-y crash and explosion...then again, either one is good to see".
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>01-05-2013, 22:29:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/0/0f/Benedictcasual.jpg/400px-Benedictcasual.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eric Cavendish</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Standing next to wreckage of several sorts</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Zhùhǎo and the rest of the team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Watching movies</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>It was a reasonable feature to have in a cranial implant, at least one intended for civilian use. In the case of extreme duress of the host, the implant would devote considerable resources to securing aid. Once that objective was either met or deemed impossible (as in this case), the implant would fall back into what was colloquially known as "fubar mode", though of course the marketing materials used gentler phrases, often containing the word 'insurance'. The idea was that all possible routes of data collection would be activated, with all sensor imaging stored into hardflash and then broadcast on emergency bands as soon as possible. The procedure would continue until no power was available. Touted as a last-ditch safety measure, the hope was that in the event of a tragedy at least the authorities might have the data that they needed to correct the imperfection in the system, whether it was a faulty vehicle, a bit of spoiled food, or a sudden rip current found during an ocean swim.<br><br>Or, as in this case, a vicious bare-handed beating by a semi-psychotic professional killer. As seen through the victim's eyes and heard through her ears, with the sounds of her own gurgling protests overlaid like an amateur horror soundtrack. Nikita Stack's face loomed prominently, evilly through the gaps in Magnessen's ineffectual defense, the attacker's smile both primal and almost sexual. And then, of course, the gunshot. At that point most of the data collection ceased, the implant functions falling off to secondary processors located in safer areas of the skull. As the datafeed went dark Eric overlaid the single word "FIN" in Aristocrat LET Cursive font, size 48. <br><br>Eric stood near the roadway with his head cocked to one side, looking at nothing in the real world. He watched the movie seven times from start to finish. It was... illuminating. When he was done, he saved the sensurround experience file in a single package, encrypted to Ms. Stack's private key, and dispatched a copy to her inbox. The original files remained under lockdown in his own datavault. It would require more than his death to free them.<br><br>Having missed the substance of the confrontation among his fellow team members, he could only drift toward the pack once he turned his attention back to reality. The mission was delayed, it seemed. There was some sort of tension among several of the crew, but without his personality graft active he could not hope to parse the nuances, and this seemed an unwise time to engage that system. He walked toward Zhùhǎo, who of all of them seemed the least likely to shoot him without an adequate reason. Also, he had earlier noted in his scratchpad space that her attractiveness was well above average.<br><br>"The flashbangs didn't go off," he said bluntly, making conversation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AutumnRain</strong> on <strong>02-05-2013, 21:52:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/7/7d/Zhuhao.jpg/715px-Zhuhao.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>祝好</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> Everybody</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Enjoying the Afterglow</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Zhùhǎo didn't like to talk much. She'd been quiet growing up, which had only been encourage by her family. As an adult, she found the habit too amusing to consider breaking it. So when Adam complimented her work, she only grinned. She bowed her head graciously than gave him an impish wink. Even though it was his sister that ruined her production, Zhùhǎo was never one to hold a grudge, and even less likely by association. She either forgave, or forgot, or sent her best wishes and moved on.<br><br>For Adam, she composed a quick message with her implant: "A movie of a fire-y crash and explosion. 祝好" Accessing Zhūzhū's recording, she pulled the clip from just before the police car collided to the fireworks and attached it. <br><br>Zhùhǎo had barely sent it when Eric surprised her with his approach and comment. She spun her head, her hair spinning in her wake, making the simulate flame tips fan out and rise before settling down around her shoulders. She gave him a blank look, though her smile crept in at the edges of her lips. Slowly, she raised one finger and pressed it against her lips, slowly winking at him. A surprise wasn't as fun if everyone knew to expect it- and hide.<br><br>After she turned away, a thought dawned on her, and she glanced back at him with a frown. If he'd been spying on her when she had been preparing the car, that was bad enough, but if he'd hacked Zhūzhū... having anyone else's electronic fingers near the trigger of her toys was a bit nerve wracking. Especially Eric's. If it had been anyone else, she could have asked Eric for help installing security, but whoever installs your locks can always keep a key, and if he were already violating her privacy... Zhùhǎo smiled to herself as an alternative began to formulate in her mind. Something for later.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>02-05-2013, 22:34:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/745ZOGr.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td> Saul Dayan</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone at first, then everyone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Arriving late.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Only the fact that he knew where Tisha was going had enabled Saul to continue following the pink sports car down the narrow, winding lanes. The Mercedes van was called a "Sprinter mk VI" on the English market, but it's sprinting capability was seriously overrated in his opinion. And the additional armour installed on the front of the vehicle was not helping matters. He was too far away to see the fireworks, but he did finally spot a column of smoke rising from in front of him.That was his cue to ease up on the power. The electrically powered vehicle was not the fastets in the world anyway as was already proven by the Porsche disappearing into the distance, but it would not be wise to come powering around the corner into the ambush, especially if, as IFFY had just informed him, things had not gone entirely to plan.<br><br>Coming around the corner he pulled to a stop and gazed in awe at the scene of carnage. "Oi vey, is that a cop car?" He muttered softly. The Major came over to the van and he wound the window down. <br><br>"Get the wreckage off the rode, use the armoured front, that's what it was put on for", she told him.<br><br>Saul nodded and drove slowly around the pink sports car, and into the back of the decoy. He twisted the wheel deftly, first one way, then the other and eased the burning wreck off the road and onto the steep downward slope beyond the trees. The car rolled a short way and then suddenly exploded with a thunderous noise and a brilliant light that caused the van's windscreen to polarise almost to black.<br><br>"Drʻq!&nbsp; Wwʼás ʼyz gʻwwʻn ʼaz?" He yelped in Yiddish. <em>Shit, what was that?</em> The glass cleared again and he reversed up to do the same to the police car. This time there was no startling explosion, much to his relief. He parked up just beyond the rather messy looking patch of tarmac and clambered from the vehicle.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>07-05-2013, 22:22:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Back of the car.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> The Team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Mildly amused.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Without wasting much time Nikita was planning to head straight to work. Which meant to disguise herself as Tisha Magnessen first so that rest of the moves could be executed. She had moved to the team's car and pulled out her gear in the back, her data implant already showcasing all the little things about Tisha to her. The way her facial features were, how the skin moved when she laughed, was angry, spoke in general. The manner in which she was typically known to walk around as she set about creating her disguise. The facial mask was the first one of course, second came the hair and Nikita was in the process of programming her speech implant with Tisha's vocal patterns when she heard a beeping sound appear in her implant. That meant someone from the team had sent her a message. Someone <em>other</em> than Anne.<br><br>She sighed and nearly ignored it but being in the field, Nikita knew better than to do something foolish like that. She accessed her inbox and snorted out in disdain at the same of the sender. Cavendish. Sys-ops were beings who honestly did not belong in the field. As she was about to open the message Nikita wondered what might be in there. Was it gonna be him whining and crying over the brutality of what had just taken place? Or like the last sys-op they had, pity the poor man ended up being dead and the one before, withi his obsession over Iffy. It was an illustrious line of screwed up retards they had running if the past missions were anything to go by. She opened the message and there was a pleasnt surprise waiting for her as a video played itself out. Definitely ripped straight out of Tisha's implant, a first hand exerpeeicne on a visual scale of what she must have felt like.<br><br>Nikita watched her own gleeful face light up with perversion as her fists came down again and again, wrecking havoc of the most horrible kind on the poor woman. It was one fine spectacle and on top of that it was edited in this neat and professional manner, even adding end title! Nikita had no idea what Cavendish was hoping to accomplish with this, but she sure as hell gave him an extra point for his creativity. It was good fun to see some of your own deeds in such thorough detail and this was about as good as it got. She glanced at Eric for a brief moment before replying him with a simple note of thanks and gave him a thumbs up sign. Her focus, once again returning to the work at hand. Which was to become Tisha Magnessen to such an extent that she would be able to fool even the closest people in her life. It took her a while to nail everything to its place. Nikita knew she was working against the clock here but she deliberately did not rush with things. Voice tweaking was a delicate thing and there was every room for it to mess up and things would fall apart.<br><br>Finally, she was done to her satisfaction and a smiling Tisha emerged out of Nikita's workplace. "Hey there! Now who wants to fiddle with some genes?" She asked with a smirk.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>07-05-2013, 23:06:45</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2007/12/25/amd_michelle-rodriguez.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Anne Laughton</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Ambush Site</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Everyone.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Getting things moving.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Anne grinned at the thought of extra special punishment from Nikki. Being a sadomasochist had helped her get into the SAS, had helped her survive a prisoner of war camp in Belize, and had helped her tame the wild-card that was her best, nay only friend, and lover, Nikita Stack. Their relationship was more than complex, it was positively wacko, and she loved it.<br><br>But now was not the time for mushy thoughts of having the living shit beaten out of herself while being fucked into unconsciousness. The van arrived and she directed Saul to clear the rode, then nodded as Nikki headed for the back of it to fix her makeup. The delayed explosions of the flashbangs in the car did not even make her jump. When you've walked through a live artillery barrage being layed down by your own side, a flash-bang does not exactly bother you...<br><br>"Okay people?" She ordered, both verbally and via the IF secure net, "Lets get this show on the road. I want the road cleared of all debris, I want the tyre tracks erased and I want the bushes to look undisturbed!" She pointed to where the two crashed cars had been pushed through the undergrowth, both leaving tyre tracks in the soft verge. Any police patrol looking for their lost comrades would spot those tracks and follow them to the two cars. There was too much evidence in those two cars that could lead an astute copper to their victim if found too early.<br><br>She watched the others get to work, and plated a microbug in the bark of a tree opposite the site. The camera had a fisheye lense and transmitted on IF's secure frequency. <em>IFFY, do you read the bug?</em><br><br><tt class="bbc_tt"><em>four by three, Major. It's good enough.</em></tt><br><br><em>Okay, IFFY. Keep me informed of any activity after we leave.</em> Anne looked up as Tisha magnessen came out of the back of the van. "Nice, Niks. Now get the fuck out of here before someone reports the bitch missing! You know what to do." She grinned and in front of everyone, kissed the replacement Tisha softly on the mouth. "I will look forward to that punishment".<br><br>As soon as the revoltingly pink sports car was out of site, Anne helped the others disguise the crashed vehicles, and then ordered, "Right, everyone in the van, let's go."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>16-05-2013, 15:17:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Ambush Sight</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>The Team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> About to depart in the most ridiculous ride since the dawn of civilization.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Nikita gladly would have welcomed some kinky time with Anne right now but she knew work came first. They had <em>priorities</em>. Things needed to be taken care of and when in the field, on a mission even the delay of the most minor sort could lead to disasters of unimaginable proportions. That much, Nikita knew by heart having spent so many years in the game. She grinned and kissed her lover, giving her bottom a nice, hard squeeze. "Indeed my dearest..and you know I want all of that and much more when we meet next time!" She winked at Anne, knowing fully well that others in the vicinity were probably wondering just what kind of strange dynamic these two women had amongst themselves and how confused it must've made them. Confusion, which Nikita enjoyed thoroghly. Truthfully, she and Anne were...complex to almost unfathomable levels.<br><br>Her vision turned towards her ride which was meant to take her to the Château. The revolting pink. Just how the fuck people even used vehicles such as that was beyond her reason. Where was any sense of utility, not to mention a sense of style? The car had gaudy written all over it and to imagine herself in it was a rather repulsing thought. But if that was what Tisha's preference was, then so be it. "Sometimes I wonder if the situations the disguise and infiltration specialist on the team lands me in is a punishment of sorts to me for all the nasty deeds I have done in past!" Chuckling in a wry, sarcastic manner Nikita quickly jumped in the car without wasting much time nad zoomed towards the château. During the journey, she activated her rapidfire translator in her implant which would give her access to the Icelandic if situation demanded so, Tisha's mother tongue. Last thing Nikita wanted was things blowing up in her face because choking on a something basic such as this!<br><br>The journey itself wasn't that bad. It was a picturesque one and the kind of drive which Nikita probably would have enjoyed more on a bike than trapped in a gigantic pink box but it had to do for the time being. It was a small ride anyways and the way Nikita was abusing the vehicle, it didn't take a whole lot of time for the chateaux to come into line of her vision. It was an impressive estate, possessing the old school grandeur which was lost in today's ever changing world which barely resembled what it was twenty four hours ago. A testament of sorts to the past. Pity they might have to blow it, Nikita mused as the car came to a screeching halt at the outskirts. The place was probably protected by gazillion security systems. She accessed the cyberspace, looking up a communication link with the chateux and its security and send only four words.<br><br>"Tisha Magnessen has arrived."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>17-05-2013, 21:24:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.buyingasword.com/content/images/thumbs/0085465_articulated-gauntlets.png)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td> GM POST</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td> A hilltop near the Châteaux</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>The team except Nikki</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Setting up, ready to go in as soon as Nikki signals go.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>The van bumped over the rough, rocky ground, and pulled to a halt outside the small shack that sat on its own on a hilltop in the middler of nowhere, but with a fantastic view of the Von Trapp châteaux a little over a kilometre away.<br><br>The area is wide open, the van is hidden from the target building by the lay of the land, but will be clearly visible on satellite imagery. This is deliberate. A vehicle that size cannot be hidden from satellites, especially when hot, and there are enough surveillance satellites in orbit that at least one of them will catch the van on it, while waiting for the go. <br><br>If it is acting suspiciously, it will be flagged, and possibly investigated. If it is simply parked up, it will be assumed to be innocuous until proven otherwise.<br><br>The team exit the van and enter the shack to wait for the signal.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>17-05-2013, 22:10:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2007/12/25/amd_michelle-rodriguez.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Anne Laughton</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Observation post</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Everyone except Nikki.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Going over the plan one more time...</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Anne peered from the window of the shed, down the hillside, towards the target. With her augmented vision she could see three of the five guards patrolling around. The pinkmobile was parked up near the front entrance. Nikki had signalled she was in on the secure network, and gone to Emission Control status. While in EmCon, she would transmit only what Tisha Magnessen would normally transmit. She would break EmCon only to send a go signal or an abort signal.<br><br>Once the attack started, it was Nikki's job to secure the target female and use her reconnaissance to guide the rest of the team into Von Trapp's lab so that her work could be stolen too or destroyed, and to her own location within the building so they could assist in extracting both her and the target.<br><br>Anne turned away, glancing at the sniper. "Good enough? You can make the shots from here?" Anne had no doubts as to the girl's abilities, but she had serious doubts as to her sanity. Not that it mattered so long as she did the job. Eve's job was to keep watch, report any unusual activity once the team went in, take out any individuals who might give the game away, take out all the guards when Anne signalled the team were on their way out, and cover the retreat to the van.<br><br>The team leader waited for the response from the girl, then moved to the others in the team. She chatted briefly with saul, who's job it was to go in first through a pre-determined route, and under direction of Eric, open an access way for the rest of the team through the châteaux's defences.<br><br>"Eric, can you hack the WiFi from here? You'll be closer when the time comes, of course, but if you can get a feel for things now it would be good?" Eric's job was to find a path into the building for Saul, then once in, to take down as many of the automated defences as possible, preferably without alerting the human defenders to the fact. He was the team's R2D2.<br><br>She moved next to Zhùhǎo. "Hey, pretty one. How's it going? You all set?" The Chinese girl's job, once in, was to set explosives at critical points around the châteaux, so that shortly after they left there would be just about enough of it left to indicate that there had, at one time, been a building there. She needed to pay special attention to the laboratories, to ensure they were completely obliterated.<br><br>Last but not least, Anne moved to talk to Adam. She gave him a half smile. "That was pretty dumb back there, offing Magnessen like that. Never get between a psychopathic killer and her plaything unless you want to be next or you have a serious hold on the psychopath in question! Plus you exceeded your orders. This is a warning, not a reprimand". Reprimands in IF tended to be conical with a hollow point. She grinned. "Just take it easy and try to stay out of her way, okay?" Adam's job, once in, was to guard Zhùhǎo as she laid her charges around the building, and Cavendish, as he guided them.<br><br>Her own job, once in, would be to link up with Saul and together locate Nikki and the Target and get them to the exit point. She had Nikki's guns with her. Stack simply wouldn't entrust her weapons to anyone except her lover.<br><br>The hours ticked slowly by as they waited for the cover of darkness and the signal to go.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>23-05-2013, 13:12:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://media.weirdworm.com/img/life/6-types-of-halloween-costumes-analyzed/sexy.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's main entrance</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone, waiting for Nikita/Tisha</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Ready to welcome Tisha</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Maria von Trapp had spent most of the previous night working in the lab on her problem. At last, exhausted, she had gone to bed only to wake up a few hours later with new potential solutions buzzing in her head, rendering her unable to find sleep again. It was always the same when she was bumping against an obstacle. Until she found out how to fix it she was restless.<br><br>Still, the lack of sleep was causing a migraine to grow inside her head. Such headaches had become more or less permanent since she had tested on herself the first prototype of self-growing cranial implant. She considered indulging herself with a light dose of pain-killing influx from her implant. This would send a series of focused activation waves to the pain centers of her brains and release some endorphins. Unfortunately, although it was very effective against headache, she had also found that it tended to obscure her thinking processes and she need it at its full potential to solve her current problem.<br><br>Mentally pushing the temptation aside, she concentrated again on the list of measures she had been working on. They were coming from G125's cranial implant, the gorilla that was strapped to the table in the middle of the lab. Two days ago she had uploaded a new version of the growing algorithm into it but the tendrils were not spreading as they should have.<br><br>As she compared the numbers to the expected values she felt the Château's system knocking at her door. She chose to ignore it but it insisted again and again until she grumpily finally opened the cyber door. She was overwhelmed under a pile of past notifications: plane taking off from Oslo, landing at Strasbourg airport, credit card used to rent a car, … Her father had opened a credit for Tisha Magnessen's expenses. This was part of the deal to attract her to his Company, but it also allowed to follow her actions more easily.<br><br>The most urgent notification was from the Château's main gate. Tisha was here! Already! She frowned at the image taken by the security cameras at the gate. A pink sport car! She was always surprised how a sudden flow of money would bring out the strangest tastes from poor peoples... It was Tisha, she recognised her. She had better clothes and hair style but that was her, as far as she could remember. <strong>"Let her in"</strong> she said to Security and then, directly to Tisha, <strong>"Welcome to the Château. Please follow Security indications, I'll meet you at the main entrance."</strong><br><br>Maria leaped from her chair and ran out of the laboratory. She gave a quick glance at her reflection in a window, gave a quick touch up to her long blond mane tied up in a high bun, before running up the stairs that led to the ground level, her short heels clicking on the marble. As she walked to the door, she read through some more notifications from Security. The police channels were constantly analysed and it seemed that a patrol car had disappeared from the screens in the vicinity. Nothing to be alarmed off, but maybe she should ensure the guards were alert and ready.<br><br>As she hurried to the door, Maria recollected her memories from Tisha. She had met the young scientist at a conference and had been quite impressed by her works and the way she thought. She exchanged a few messages with her, enough to convince her that she would be a valuable addition to her team. She had convinced her father to hire her and here she was.<br><br>The main door opened and she stepped out, blinking in the sun. She rarely went out of the lab and was used to a controlled environment in term of light, temperature and sound. Here on the doorstep, nature was overflowing her senses with bright sun rays, flower perfumes and bird songs. She collected herself and realised she was still wearing her lab coat over her blue jeans and white T-shirt. Too late to remove it and well, that might make her look more impressive... She heard the roaring of the car engine and soon spotted the pink vehicle approaching. She put a smile on her face and waited, feeling a bit out of place in the plain sun.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kingmaster1</strong> on <strong>24-05-2013, 19:03:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lrkrgtCNpx1r30l77o1_500.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Adam DeWitt</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>shack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Waiting for anything to happen</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Adam hopped into the van after going to Eve's side, telling her that he was proud of her shooting. He sat close to her in the van and let his hand rest on her knee for the drive, always wanting to be as close to her as possible all the time.<br><br>The van ride was quiet, he was never much of a talker unless the situation called for it. When they stopped he got out with everyone and went into the shack that they would be meeting in, his hand holding Eve's for the majority of the time. He sat down on a chair and grabbed one for Eve as well, though he let her go and do her own thing as he put his foot up on a table and sighed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He took a long drag from the stick and watched everyone going about their business, wondering if he was going to get a chewing out for his actions earlier, though he would stand by them as the right way to go.<br><br>When the major came to him he sighed and knew what was coming. What surprised him, though, was the much more delicate treatment she gave him, albeit it was still a reprimand, but hell, it wasn't a bullet through the head, so that was good.<br><br>When she seemed to finish he lifted his hand into a salute, "Yes major", he said in his deep voice before saluting her and then going back to his cigarette. "In my defense I just didn't want it to mess up our timing just so Nikki could pummel someone to death", he said before sighing, "But you're right, it's not wise to tangle with madness unless you can take that madness down".<br><br>He kicked back in his chair and balanced on it, watching all of the others in the shack as well.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>27-05-2013, 15:55:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's main entrance</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Being a smug bitch.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Her research had fed Nikita information about how Tisha had changed as far as her visual appearance and tastes went in recent times. Upon receiving the message from Maria she quickly responded back a polite "Thank you" as the car moved further in through the vast net of security that was guarding the castle which the estate was. The vehicle roared and came to a halt in front of the doorsteps with a screech. That, was when Nikita had her first view of the prodigious talent Dr. Maria von Trapp in person. She had seen countless images, endless hours of video footage amongst numerous other things in preparation for this mission. She knew every shred of information about her there was to have in public and in several cases even private domains, all of it a mere nanosecond away from her to be commanded if need be and yet when she saw her for the first time, she couldn't feel but wonder just how much the bitch looked like a random pornographic actress one could find in a simstim, ready to do their bidding for any kinky wish they might have.<br><br>Maybe in due time she would have Maria do all those things for her and so much more. Maybe she would become her plaything once the necessary deeds were done. To her, Maria was yet another commodity in this overly artificial, commercialized world they lived in where everything was for sell. <em>Everything</em>. And if someone wanted this specific product, a truly one of a kind to be retrieved for their own purposes and pay her handsome money for that? Then so be it. She opened the door and climbed out of the car with a polite smile and waved at Maria.<br><br>"Good day Miss von Trapp. It is an honor to be even walking through the gates of the château!" Imitation, perfect. Voice levels matched just fine so was the poise and mannerisms. Nikita had the habit of self analyzing again and again to make the illusion more and more convincing. The perfectionist inside always awake.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>28-05-2013, 13:26:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://media.weirdworm.com/img/life/6-types-of-halloween-costumes-analyzed/sexy.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's main entrance</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Nikita/Tisha</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Welcoming Tisha</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Maria always felt ill at ease in society as soon as she was not talking about technical matters. It was as if her brains was totally devoted to solving neuro-engineering problems and everything else was kind of deficient. She waved back at Tisha as she climbed up the few stairs leading to the entrance of the castle, smiling to her somewhat awkwardly. She urged to bring the new recruit to the lab and get back to work but what little social skill she had told her that it would hardly do.<br><br>She initiated a step forward, realised that it would make her meet Tisha in the middle of the staircase, walked back, discretely wiped her palm on the back of her white lab coat and reached forward with it, smiling.<br><br><strong>"Welcome to the Château, miss Magnessen. I assure you the pleasure is for me. I trust you must be tired after this long journey. Let's have a refreshment first. Bill will carry your luggages to your appartments."</strong><br><br>There was a awkward silence as she was about to tell her more about what she planned to do but she halted, not sure it would be good to say it. She chuckled and turned away to hide her embarrassment.<br><br><strong>"Follow me!"</strong> she simply said, inwardly cursing the slowness and corkscrewed ways of courtesy.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>28-05-2013, 21:28:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/0/0f/Benedictcasual.jpg/400px-Benedictcasual.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eric Cavendish</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Shacking Up</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> The rest of the team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Getting the Lay of the Land</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><em>"Eric, can you hack the WiFi from here? You'll be closer when the time comes, of course, but if you can get a feel for things now it would be good?"</em><br><br>Eric stared wordlessly at the team leader for a few seconds. Without his personality graft active he was entirely unclear as to whether she was telling a joke or not. The payoff matrix seemed to indicate that the cost of treating her statement as a joke if she were in fact serious was far greater than the negative effect of once again missing an attempt at humor. It was a calculation he had run many times in the past, usually to the same conclusion. And so he responded cordially and efficiently. "Yes, I can access their system from here."<br><br>Of course he could hack the WiFi from here. It was all a matter of which protocols he could scan without accidentally activating them. Closer proximity would expand his range of options considerably, and gaining a physical network link would remove the slight transmission delay that made real-time combat with security subsentients such a risky business remotely. It was the primary reason why such duties were still handled by field agents rather than homebound AI's. There was a need for air support, but without infantry the battle could not be won.<br><br>The shed afforded little in the way of amenities. Eric claimed a rusted potter's table, sliding an assortment of gardening tools and clay pots to the ground with a crash. In the newly cleared space he set up his SAPP, or Sirius Augmented Processing Pack. One thick cable coiled from the intricate yet durable electronics package to a hardwired access port at the base of Eric's skull. As he slid the locking cable into place his eyes rolled back in their sockets, though otherwise his actions continued unhindered. His long thin fingers flew over the unit, tapping configuration switches and adjusting the physical antenna for best possible reception.<br><br>Within his locally created cyberspace Eric immersed himself in the euphoria of direct data wash, a recurrent baptism of ordered chaos. Instantly his senses were multiplied a hundredfold, his own brain becoming the hub of a network of sensors and processors greater than any human could carry in their skull. He had no physical vision, true, but he was anything but blind. Each of the team's own cranial implants stood out like torches in the landscape of his mind, while the château's various intricate systems blazed in the nearby valley like bonfires. It was a complex system, a beautiful system, Eric instantly noted. He longed to explore it more fully, and despaired that he would be able to examine only a tiny slice of it before its inevitable destruction at Zhùhǎo's capable hands.<br><br>Eight seconds was more than enough time to sightsee. Now it was time to get to work. Eric began methodically cataloging all of the inputs and outputs to the system, from the main trunk satellite link all the way down to the lawn sprinkler control systems. A network was useless unless connected to the outside world, yet each connection was also a potential liability. It was his job to exploit them all. As he worked he posted terse progress notes on his cyberspace notification board, available for any in the team's network to view. It was easier than answering questions.<br><br><em>...<br>Grocery delivery schedule captured and analyzed; no threat found.<br>Estimated current ammunition stockpile, organized by caliber and date of purchase.<br>Census of local wildlife, current as of four weeks ago.<br>Agent Stack has entered the building. Cover intact.<br>Analysis of last four garbage pickups with constituent compound breakdown.<br>Structural properties of building materials used on roof.<br>...<br></em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AutumnRain</strong> on <strong>29-05-2013, 16:10:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/7/7d/Zhuhao.jpg/715px-Zhuhao.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>祝好</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Shack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> The Team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Preparing for the Big Finale.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>While the van bumped down the road, Zhùhǎo very carefully did not look at her materiel stored in the back. It wasn't just her belief that Murphy waited for you to be watching before he performed, but if something was going to go wrong, it was too late now. Everything had been packed carefully (most everything), inert and disarmed, in stabilizer-equipped cases. Still, there was too much ordnance for Zhùhǎo to feel entirely safe. Just the way she liked it. All watching it would do would be to spoil the surprise.<br><br>Zhùhǎo nodded to the Major's question when they arrived. She waited until everyone else had unloaded and was out of the way to unload her luggage without interruption. Two large suitcases came first. Each was nice, but somewhat worn; Zhùhǎo had gotten them used. Among the luggage of any slice of the population, you would only be able to distinguish them if you remembered which bags where sitting closest to where the center of the crater was currently located. Fortunately, the third, slightly smaller bag contained all the detonators, wiring, and other accessories necessary to erase a large rural manor or a careless demo-technician. <br><br>The final bag was a large, rather expensive purse, red with intricate gold floral embroidery. Zhùhǎo carefully slung this purse over her shoulder and felt her heart skip. While not live, it was armed. On a timer, given a remote signal, or sufficient impact, say being thrown against the wall hard enough, first a flashbang would go off, blinding and stunning anyone nearby not forewarned, followed by a conventional explosive to make a mess of the room in which those people were standing, then a final incendiary to clean up said mess. It was Zhùhǎo's contingency plan, in case she needed to clean out a room before she got a chance to take the house with it. <br><br>Wheeling her luggage into the shed, Zhùhǎo stacked them, carefully, in the emptiest corner. Stepping gingerly, she climbed up to sit atop the pile, her feet dangling a foot from the ground. She crossed her legs demurely, placing the purse on her lap before folding her hands delicately on top of it. Though she wore a calm countenance and a placid smile, inside her heart was pounding and her blood rushing. Her skin tingled. Zhùhǎo focused on her breathing, not trying to calm herself, but just to maintain her composure and savor the feeling of sitting on so much latent power. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Roen</strong> on <strong>05-06-2013, 20:57:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/71/Evepic.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eve</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>At the shed</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>With the rest of the team, minus Nikita</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Getting settled for covering the extraction.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>The calculated ultimate-sniper was upset. Sitting there in that shed, watching the open field at the back of the chateau through the lens of her sniper rifle, Eve was deep in thought about a different place, at an earlier time, one that had her watching through the telescopic lens of the same loaded rifle. Back then, when she was still sitting at the top of that oak tree, observing the road as her teammates executed their parts of the stratagem. Back then, she watched as the one with the fake face pounded the target again and again, most inefficiently, with force whose function Eve could not understand. It didn't trouble her much, though; she had no specific interest in either of the two women. When Adam stormed down the road and shot the target, exchanging words with the fake women and shooting both of the police officials inside the patrol car, however, Eve's interest in the incident peaked instantly. She watched him holster his magnum and exchange words with their commander, and then she moved her lens to watch the fake woman, as she eyed Adam in a very troubling way. Needless to say, Eve kept her aim at the human chameleon from that point on and until she left the premises completely.<br><br>Eve wasn't especially possessive of her brother, as she never actually had any possessions to call her own, but she was more than encouraged to follow and enforce rules. For instance, she wasn't allowed any toys as a lab subject, not even as a toddler, but she was allowed to have games. Any type of games that might enhance her cognitive skills, her reasoning, her precision and concept of methodology was provided for the appropriate period of time. The appropriate period of time was precisely the amount of time she required to master the aspects of the game that her creators originally intended it for and not a single day longer. Once she was done with a certain game, and her groomers decided she got everything she could from it; the game would be removed from the labs immediately, later to be sanitized, burned and disposed of. Not unlike the handlers, Eve had her own set of rules regarding these games, the first and foremost one was: Eve was allowed to utilize a game, as long as she was to return it to its proper place and in its former condition. No exceptions. That was a rule like all others; she was expected to follow under the understanding that if you break the rules, you will be punished.<br><br>Consequentially, not all people were brought up with the same discipline as Eve was. She realized that on many different occasions, the most recent one was the long ride to the next location of their follow-up mission. She observed her older brother closely, watching him furrow his brows and grunt, his breath became heavier, his face plowed with trouble and his eyes grim with that deep quality best described as brooding. Yes, Adam did congratulate her for her recent antiquate performance, but he wasn't himself; gone was her cheerful and carefree brother, with his illogically amusing jokes and the playful secret looks, replaced with a shadow of his usual self, which did little to relieve Eve from her worry. The fake woman, Nikita, played with her brother and did not return him in his former condition, which in all honesty- Eve found to be a rude behavior that was unsettlingly void of discipline. So, as the Major asked her whether or not she would be able to shoot from that range, Eve merely returned a frown gaze, which was govern by mild adolescently birthed scorn, as if to say '<em><strong>What do you think?</strong></em>' Glimpsing at her brother from the corner of her eye, she then gave a quick nod, "Parameters are all within range, efficiency estimated at 85%, stealth at 56% on the high risk actions, 79% on the low risk." Eve added, "Ma'am." 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>10-06-2013, 16:31:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's main entrance</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Being a smug bitch.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Nikita smiled her best plastic smile and shook hands with the sociall inept woman which stood in front of Maria.<br><br>"It has been an exhausting journey indeed. But you have no idea just how excited I am feeling right now Miss von Trapp. I can't wait to get started under you! Its a dream come true for me." She was speaking in a near devotional, overly chirpy manner. From what she had dug up on the woman through various web clippings, surveillance tapes amongst other things, Tisha admired the woman greatly to fangirlish extent.&nbsp; Suddenly, now there was silence between the two of them as they just stared at each other in a rather aimless way. The conversation coming to a bizarre halt. Meanwhile as if on cue, a behemoth of a man, no doubt both a butler and security on the whole, perhaps amongst the elite who had been employed by her father to guard her had appeared. <br><br>Nikita measured the large man with curiosity, nearly letting out a snort of disdain at him as he carried her bags. Almost certain that sooner or later they will end up in a skirmish of some sort. He, for his part pretended as if Tisha didn't exist and that Maria was the only person in the universe judging by the docile way in which he was doing her bidding. Nikita wondered for a brief moment if Maria had actually done some kind of experimenting on him or what. The man looked, lifeless...almost glassy in a sense. Maybe she'll find the secrets soon enough. Meanwhile, Maria had taken control of the situation once again motioning for her to follow inside the impressive property.<br><br>Nikita nodded politely and so the trio went in the magnificence that was the chateau.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>11-06-2013, 16:33:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://media.weirdworm.com/img/life/6-types-of-halloween-costumes-analyzed/sexy.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's library</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Nikita/Tisha</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Discussing with Tisha</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Maria smiled and blushed at Tisha's compliments. She never knew what to respond to such words. Also, she was never sure they were sincere. So many persons were interested in gaining her sympathy for reasons totally outside science... It was good to know though that Tisha was impatient to start as Maria always felt nore at ease in the lab.<br><br>Bill left them, carrying Tisha's luggage to her room while the two scientists walked silently to a small, cozy library that had a wide and tall window opening on the park and the forest. The walls were covered with shelves after shelves of leather books. There was a little bar in one corner of the room.<br><br><strong>"What do you want to drink?"</strong> she asked while choosing a Coca Cola for herself.<br><br>She then sat on a wide, comfy, leather sofa and motioned Tisha to sit by her side as well. For the entire walk from the door to library she had been torturing her mind to find what she would say next and at last she had found something, although it was probably too much work-oriented to be entirely polite.<br><br><strong>"So, Tisha..."</strong> she stopped abruptly, annoyed. "<strong>May I call you Tisha? You can call me Maria, by the way... So, I was impressed by your talk at that conference. Have you made any progress on your researches since then?"</strong><br><br>She let out a sigh. At least this was going to bring the conversation on grounds she felt more at ease with.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>12-06-2013, 01:53:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.thesun.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01671/SNN1201AA-_1671482a.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Jodie Tough (NPC)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Running up that hill</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Soon about to meet IF team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Riding her bike</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Even though Jodie Tough's shift was over she could not just relax and join her colleagues in the guards' quarters. Something was amiss, she felt it although she could not point at any hard proof. It was more like an intuition. After having being a survivor and then a mercenary in countless African wars, feeling danger was something you either got or were dead. It had started with that cop car that had gone missing. This did not concern them but still, it was odd.<br><br>However, she did not want to warn her boss. She did not want any joke about "feminine intuition" or "period-induced nervosity". She never felt better than when she was alone on a mission, having nobody but her to rely upon for success or death.<br><br><strong>"I'll be back. Don't wait on me!"</strong> she told her mates as she straddled her motorbike and kicked the engine on. She smiled as she felt the machine vibrate between her powerful thighs. She released the brake and the bike roared toward the secondary entrance, the one reserved to service. Maybe this was indeed just her nerves but she wanted to be sure or she would not be able to sleep.<br><br>At the door she felt the Security System touching her mind, scanning her identity.<br><br><strong>"Agent Tough, off duty. Out for private stuff,"</strong> she messaged. The gates opened just enough to let her go out.<br><br>Jodie knew the Château had all kinds of sensors to detect abnormal activity in the vicinity but still she could never totally rely on machines and cameras. She only believed her eyes. This had saved her on several occasions in the past. Maybe this was ridiculous... but she would go anyway.<br><br>She knew a small hill nearby where one had an impregnable 360° sight over the whole area. She wanted to go there and see by herself. If anything was wrong she would know it. Or she could come back reassured to the Château. She drove up the small road that led to the hilltop.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>13-06-2013, 23:07:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2007/12/25/amd_michelle-rodriguez.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Anne Laughton</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Shack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Everyone.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Getting a warning.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br><em><tt class="bbc_tt">Major? There is a vehicle approaching.</tt></em><br><br>Iffy's words slid into Anne's head. She looked up, towards the door to the shack. <em>Where? what kind, and how many occupants?</em><br><br><em><tt class="bbc_tt">It is a motor cycle. It is coming up the track rapidly. I have tracked it from the target building. There is a single occupant. The vehicle is registered to one Jodie Tough, an employee at the châteaux.</tt></em><br><br>Even as Iffy briefed her, Anne was moving. She snapped her fingers at the Israeli point man and sent him a terse message to follow her. The two of them left the building and headed a short way down the track. The bike's engine could now be heard coming closer. "Take this one alive", she said softly, signalling Eric, <em>"Jam all comes in the vicinity of the shack, even ours..."</em><br><br>Saul nodded and the two of them vanished into the rock strewn landscape, their chameleon suits making them all but invisible. It was an old, old trick. Saul threw her the handle on the other end of the string he had extracted from his pack. Anne caught it and just as the bike came around the corner, thel both lifted the chord up. It caught on the handlebars of the bike. Both mercenaries braced themselves and held as long as they could. The chord snapped at the weakest points, right by the handles, the wooden weights just beyond them flew, inertia and angular momentum causing them to fly around the bike, unbalancing it and causing it to skid then fall.<br><br>Anne was on her feet in a moment, racing towards the downed rider, her gun out, safety off. With a grin she landed both knees heavily on the woman, weapon directed into her face. "Hello, lunch", she said softly. Saul arrived at the same moment, weapon out too. "Eric, are we comm secure? There's no way this bitch got a message off is there?" She snarled at the sys-op. If he was even remotely hesitant, he better hope that the rumours of dead hacker's spirits existing as ghosts in cyberspace were true!<br><br>The captive was dragged to her feet and hustled into the shack. "Strip", Anne ordered, then when the woman hesitated, the pistol swung back and forward, the barrel striking the woman on the cheek, opening a bloody gash.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>14-06-2013, 03:22:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.thesun.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01671/SNN1201AA-_1671482a.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Jodie Tough (NPC)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>In the shack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>the IF team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Bluffing</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Jodie had almost reached the top. Only one turn and she would have the entire area spread in front of her eyes. Just as she was about to get out of the turn, the short-range radar of her bionic eye detected something. At the same moment she saw two camouflaged persons stand up on each side of the road. At the same moment it felt as if her bike had hit an invisible obstacle. Feeling the front wheel pushed aside she strongly counter-acted the movement to prevent the bike from falling. At that moment she heard a high-pitched squeal coming from the rear wheel while sparks splashed from it in all direction. There is something stuck in the wheel! she cursed.<br><br>There was nothing she could do. The powerful bike fell on the flank and skid for another 10 metres on the pavement before coming to a halt. As soon as she saw that it would be impossible to redress the bike Jodie kicked it and ejected herself. She absorbed the impact of her fall by rolling a couple of time in the grass by the side of the road. The kevlar of her outfit had efficiently protected her skin. At the same time her cranial implant was vainly trying to send an emergency message to the securized communication system of the Château. Something was wrong. Normally, she would be well into the range of the antenna.<br><br>She knelt up, her head spinning. Fortunately, her bionic eye was not affected by the weaknesses of the inner ear and its short-range radar had already picked up all metallic objects in her field of sight, those looking like weapons were flashing in red. There was a girl in the process of shouldering a sniper's gun. she would probably need another second or two to adjust her aim. The second one was more immediately dangerous as he was running at her.<br><br>Mechanically, Jodie's hand had moved to her hip and drawn her handgun. Her bionic eye had already targeted the one who was running. As she aimed her gun at him, the system indicated how to adjust her aim, which was a bit off due to her dizziness. She shot three times in quick succession, aiming at the face, reducing it to a mangle of blood and bones.<br><br>She then turned toward the sniper who was releasing the security of her gun, the barrel of her gun nearly reduced to a single black hole. Jodie rolled sidewards twice to break the Asian's aim. She knew that snipers were usually working from afar, unseen, calm. In a face-to-face duel, they could be too stressed to act normally. At least she hoped so...<br><br>Kneeling up again, she stabilised her armed arm on her knee, and shot two more bullets at her enemy, once again helped by her targeting system. The first bullet must have entered the barrel of the sniper's gun as she suddenly saw it exploding. She still shot a second bullet in her heart, just in case.<br><br>At that moment she felt a brutal yank on her hair and she was thrown on her back. Before she had the time to react, something heavy landed on her chest and pinned her down against the road. Her head banged hard against the ground, making her see stars. The first thing she saw when he vision cleared was the muzzle of a gun pointed at her nose. Behind was a woman, straddling her upper chest, her knees pinning her arms down.<br><br>Jodie Tough had been in too many fights not to recognize and expert when she saw one. She also knew that her situation was hopeless and resisting would only get her maimed or killed. Her feeling had been right. There was something amiss, but now this was hardly comforting her.<br><br>She felt a hand in her hair, grabbing it, and just as Lawton lifted her butt slightly off her torso, Jodie was yanked to her feet, grimacing from the pain in her scalp. The handgun and knife she carried on her belt were taken from her and she was hurried into the shack, bent over, yanked by her hair.<br><br>Thanks to her years of training the mercenary was remaining calm. A plan was forming in her brains. But the order she was given took her aback.<br><br>"Why?" was all she managed to find to reply to the order of remove her kevlar, tight-fitting outfit.<br><br>She looked at Lawton. Might she be a Lesbian? that was quite probable. As she reflected about it, Lawton hit her with her gun and Jodie felt pain in her cheek. Without a word, keeping her glaring eyes fixed into Lawton's she brought her fingers to her cheek and briefly glanced at the blood on them.<br><br><strong>"Calm down. In a moment, seeing that I do not answer to their calls, my comrade will know there is something amiss, and they you'll be in deep shit up to the eyes. Whatever you do now, your mission is a failure. You may pour your frustration on me, but you'd better disengage and disappear while you still have the time to do it."</strong><br><br>She spoke in a very calm voice as she exposed her bluff. She had been in such missions. She knew how it felt to be discovered when everything rested on secrecy and surprise. Surprise was everything in such cases. In similar occasion she had herself given the order to disengage just because surprise had been lost, to save the life of her men and hers. This woman here would probably act no differently, or at least so Jodie hoped. But she must convince her that their presence would soon be known.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>16-06-2013, 13:44:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's main entrance</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Being a smug bitch.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Nikita's eyes ran around the options which were present to her at the bar. To be honest, right now she would have killed for some fine wine but whilst on duty? She followed certain strict principles. And one of them was not to indulge in any alcoholic, psychoactive or synthesized drugs of any kind no matter how much fun they would be. Unless of course, if her cover specifically demanded for her to be under the influence. It wasn't the case of her being unable to retain a sense of her actions under the influence and more of her preferring to enjoy her vices in a friendly and enjoyable environment. So, Maria had gone for Coca Cola.<br><br>It was almost a miracle, but the compahy had kept on going strong despite of the numerous economic meltdowns and struggles which the world economy had experienced in recent times. Whilst others continued to face debacles, Coca Cola had steadily expanded, being available in the most remote of the regions. Some even joked that Coca Cola products were available amply in regions where people were dying of thirst. They had bought out their nearest rival, Pepsi with ease and by virtue of that had become undisputed kings of the market.<br><br>"I think I shall have the same." She spoke rather plainly, her eyes tracing every movement Maria made with wide eyed amusement. She was playing obsessive fangirl to perfection and how much fun it was going to be, exploiting Maria's absolute social ineptness, she mused. She took the seat next to Maria, getting comfortable and then came the sudden question.<br>&nbsp;<br>"You can call me Tisha if that is what makes you feel comfortable Maria." She thinly smiled and rubbed her chin.<br><br>Shit, Tisha's speech..Nikita rapidly accessed her records, taking a sip of the drink. For all her prowess in disguising herself and numerous subjects Nikita was hardly any good when it came down to the complicated technological issues like the one which was hurled at her despite her best possible research. Primarily, because it was a subject which was very niche. Almost <em>too</em> niche if one might say so. So, Tisha's speciality, much like Maria's was genetic research and the possibilities of a post-human future just might be. An era in which we as species just might be able to harness and tame our subconscious according to our own will and maybe even connect on a collective state. Potentially a world without cybernetic implants as our own capacities are fully realized. Damn, Jung would have been proud of some of this. Nikita pondered, chuckling inside and took a deep breath. So here was another carefully calculated bluff as information and transcripts of Tisha's previously published research was flashing in front of her.<br><br>"As for the research, hmm...I must confess I am at a standstill right now. I keep on stumbling over the prototype, even a hypothetical one which shall allow us to realize the full capabilities of our brain, tinker it to the extent of having photogenic memory but the probable side effects it may end up presenting. For instanc,e how shall it affect other senses? And most importantly, how to nudge just the right centers, without the treatments which are meant to 'ignite' these centers in our mind, our psyche. The Third Eye is what I call it, potentially also presents a possibility of 'growing' beings in a rapid manner. An eight year old girl can possess maturity and insight of a thirty year old woman thereby providing us with a more productive, efficient society in general...in theory at least!" Nikita finished and took a deep breath. Now came the element of uncertainty. Just how convincing was this complete, utter bullshit which she had built up from the bits and pieces of information which she was able to register and process in the short span which she had taken between the question being asked and her answer.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>18-06-2013, 13:19:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://media.weirdworm.com/img/life/6-types-of-halloween-costumes-analyzed/sexy.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's library</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Nikita/Tisha</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Sligthly disappointed by Tisha</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Maria was a bit disappointed by Tisha's explanations. She had hoped for a remake of the short conversation they had had at that conference, where ideas sparkled from their mind, rooted into the solid foundations of their technological expertise. But what Tisha had served her was just the kind of bullshit you told to scientific journalists, or rather they tried to extract from you by all kinds of tortuous ways in order to make their paper more sensational. As Tisha spoke she tried to keep on smiling but she was not good at disguising her emotions and currently it was more like boredom.<br><br><em>Why was Tisha serving her this soup? Was she trying to hide something? Was she held by some exclusivity contract? Or was she just defiant and reluctant to give precious information to someone whom she barely knew, even she were her new boss? Or maybe she was just tired?</em><br><br>Maria emptied her drink and put it down on the table a little more loudly than she would have wished. For a few seconds she did not know what to say.<br><br><strong>"Mmmh, very interesting indeed, and I'm sorry to hear you are at a standpoint. Maybe a fresh outlook might help, it often does. Anyway, I'm sure that by combining our skills and creativities we are go to do great things. And when I say "We", I mean it. We'll be co-authors on anything that comes out of our collaboration. You can trust me,"</strong> she said that while fixing Tisha's eyes, trying to convey her honesty. <strong>"What is important is not the glory one particular individual, but the progress of the human kind... and of course we must make a living out of it!"</strong> She added the last part after a short pause, reflecting that Tisha, not coming from a wealthy family as herself, might be interested with money as well. Even so, she said it with a high-pitched giggle that indicated it was not that important to her.<br><br>Suddenly she stood up, a little akwardly.<br><br><strong>"But I'm sorry. You've just arrived and I am here forcing you to speak about work. You must be tired. Let me show you your room. We'll start the real work tomorrow by visiting the laboratory, and I'll explain you what we are trying to achieve."</strong><br><br><em>And maybe I can work a few more hours today while she rests</em>, Maria thought.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ebb</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 05:09:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/0/0f/Benedictcasual.jpg/400px-Benedictcasual.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Eric Cavendish</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>In the Shack. Also, Everywhere.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td> The rest of the team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td> Running Interference</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Eric quietly and competently went about the business of aiding and abetting another murder. <br><br>Blocking the incoming rider's communications was trivial. <em>We're sorry. All circuits are busy. Please try your emergency beacon at another time. Your business is important to us.</em> From the outside looking in there was nothing amiss at all. He plotted a trajectory for the motorcycle, a leisurely drive through the countryside toward the nearest town. The cybernetic simulacrum proceeded on its merry way, sans driver, giving out regular status reports to anyone back at the base who might be bored enough to want to track the newcomer's uneventful progress. At one point his phantom rider pulled the motorcycle to the side of the road, perhaps to admire the local wildlife, perhaps to consume a sensory tab to enhance the experience of the wind in her hair. Who could know these things? But after only a few minutes she had returned to her vehicle, the engine roaring to life, and was then driving down the road even faster than before. Sensory tab, Eric concluded. One had to be careful with such things, as they had been known to dull reflexes if overused.<br><br>He was engrossed enough in his fantasy road trip that it took him an extra few seconds to acknowledge the removal from the local grid of both Eve and Tank's beacons. A retroactive perusal of the relevant data streams revealed the ugly truth. Both had been killed. Had his graft been active he would have been saddened at the news. Currently it was only two more pieces of data to be integrated into the whole. The mission success profile dropped precipitously, of course, and the probability of a scrub order rose in proportion. The analysis profile of the now captured guard was refactored as well. Whoever she was, she was an extraordinarily competent marksman. That skill was unlikely to avail her any further, though. The guard -- <em>Jodie Tough</em>, he read as he began interrogating her cranial implant, tearing through the layers of security -- had an extremely low probability of survival at this juncture.<br><br>"Comm secure, Major," he signaled to his commanding officer. "I detect no signs that this incident has been noticed. I cannot, however, account for purely physical detection. Recommend that the vehicle be secured out of sight. Datastream on your captive, Jodie Tough, follows..." He began piping the relevant bits of information about Ms. Tough's personal profile through to the local network, listing strengths and weaknesses that seemed to have bearing on the current situation.<br><br>"If you do kill her, please attempt to preserve the implant. I have not yet finished scraping it for data."<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 17:11:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's library</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Mildly paranoid, weighing possibilities</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>Disappointment was evident on Maria's face. Nikita cursed herself endlessly from the inside for not covering the scientific jargon and aspects thoroughly, despite of fully knowing the fact that it was such a complicated subject that she never would have been able to even scratch the surface of it, let alone fool someone with expertise of the kind which Maria von Trapp possessed. Yet again, an awkward silence hung in the air. Both of them at a sudden loss for words when Maria resumed. The sound, yet another hint of the poorly disguised emotions. Her mind, a maze of the most intriguing sort it must be, Nikita mused. Packed and perpetually fed with information, calculating the possibilities beyond the understanding of a common human. Living more in future than in the present and past completely erased for a harbinger of the future she was meant to be.<br><br>"You're absolutely right. There comes a time when you simply arrive at a standstill out of the blue you know? Lost in a labyrinth which is of your own creation as you keep on looking for a path out. A master key to it all, solution to gordians knot which keeps on eluding you. But with you, I agree. Together we can blend our approaches, concepts and have a crack at these complex natural puzzles which we have been wrestling with for the longest of time and marry them with technological advancements. Like I said before Maria, its an honor that you believe so much in me..future is something which is no longer only in the hands of the nature, but it is scientists like us who shall be the ones who shall bring about the next step in mankinds ever evolving nature. I am absolutely certain of that." Mention of monetary gains almost made her chuckle. Tisha was most definitely an opportunist, who for all her brilliance had always put financial gains ahead of her. Probably it had to do with being born in a supremely collapsed economy of Iceland where things were hard.<br><br>"Well we all need food on our tables, the good life which can offer us the comforts and joys we seek. Its small things really, but often for our minds, its these simple things which matter most." She murmured, in a nostalgic way. Ha! This was <em>good</em>!<br><br>"But yes..I am a bit exhausted right now. It has been a conversation most incredible but I can't wait to start tomorrow. You have no idea how much I have heard about your lab and all the incredible things you have been working on. I look forward to tomorrow Maria." Nikita stood up as well, finishing her drink and smiled, waiting for Maria to lead the way. Thank god this conversation was over. Now that this was going to buy her some time, she made a point to cram everything about Tisha's research she can, whether she understood the concepts or not so that she won't be as ill prepared for bluffs as she was today. Again, a longshot she was taking but something was better than nothing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Chrystal</strong> on <strong>25-06-2013, 22:20:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2007/12/25/amd_michelle-rodriguez.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Major Anne Laughton</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>The Shack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Everyone.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Patching things up</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>The loss of the brother and sister was a serious setback, and even as she smashed her fist into the Tough bitch's belly, she looked around. Eric's words stung her ears. She turned to the Israeli. "Do it. Get that bike inside the van. We can ditch it when we leave. It won't matter then." She nodded at Cavendish. "Good work. Iffy, let me know if anything spotted that incident." She spoke aloud to the AI, something she did when she was worried.<br><br><em><tt class="bbc_tt">Not a dickie-bird, Major. No birds with Ell Oh Ess, no drones, no external surveillance of any kind. Oh and nothing has notice the earlier ambush either. Two cars have gone down the road, but so far no one has even slowed at the corner.</tt></em><br><br>"Okay, Thanks, Iffy" Anne grinned and looked at Tough. "Well sweetie, you are in a lot more shit than you thought. You killed two members of my team. Unluckily for you, they were not the two most essential members. We can manage without them. Our coms are secure, our visible profile is minimal..." She looked up as Saul came back in , nodded and sat down. ".. in short, no-one knows we're here and no-one knows you are here. So, my pretty, I suggest you relax and enjoy the last sex you will ever get, because you will die here."<br><br>Anne fished in her pocket and pulled out a number of cable ties. "I always bring spares..." She sniggered as she turned the naked woman, and grabbed her hands behind her back, fastening a tie around her wrists, then another around the base of her thumbs. "Damn, if Nikki were here, she'd have you trussed up like a turkey by now..."<br><br>She pulled her knife and with a soft giggle, informed the prisoner, "I suggest you stay very still, because I have no problems with cutting you. I don't care if you bleed to death or get a bullet, but if you want a nice quick end, I suggest you lie still". With thatwarning given, she began cutting the prisoner's clothes off. The occasional nick with the razor sharp blade was inevitable of course, but Anne did try not to slice the woman up too badly. She didn't want to be covered in the bitch's blood.<br><br>Anne giggled softly, remembering the previous evening, when her mistress had trussed <em>her</em> up like a turkey. She forced the woman's elbows together then beckoned to Saul to put a cable tie around them. She took a length of their rope next and threw it over the beam in the shack. One end she tied through and around the woman's wrists, the other she hauled on, pulling the woman into a painful strappado.<br><br>With the woman's toes just off the floor, she stopped and tied the rope off to a convenient hook on the wall of the shack. Grasbbing one of the flailing limbs, she tied another length of rope to the Tough's right ankle and pulled it across to the same hook, tying it off, then used a cable tie to secute her left ankle to the back of her left thigh. <br><br>With the prisoner thus secured, She grabbed the woman's breasts one in each hand and dug her fingernails in hard, squeezing the soft, sensitive fleshuntil she felt the skin give and blood spurt out. "Oh yes, you are going to die here, but we have a bit of time to wait, and until then I think we need some entertainment...!" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>26-06-2013, 16:53:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://img.thesun.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01671/SNN1201AA-_1671482a.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Jodie Tough (NPC)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>In the shack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>the IF team</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Cruelly bound but still fiesty</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Jodie did her best to keep a Poker face as the Major listed why she felt so secure. She knew that Laughton was right. Nobody knew she was here and if the van had been detected before she left the Château, she would have been informed. She cursed herself for leaving without giving any information about where she went. She had been too confident. Now, presumably, nobody would notice she was missing for nearly 8 hours, when she would fail to start her shift.<br><br><strong>"Still, if I do not come back in one hour, they'll go look for me and then... hey? What are you doing?"</strong><br><br>She tried to struggle as her wrists were pulled together but a new hit from the gun-wielding man convinced her she had better comply. Laughton worked swiftly, securing her wrists and thumbs together. The zip ties were so tight that they dug into her flesh, making it bulge around them. They were already painful and she could not imagine what it would be like to fight them.<br><br>Laughton began by unzipping the front of her black kevlar top, revealing Jodie's rippling abs and her black sport bra. Then Jodie saw the knife blade approaching her. It was a threatening sight even if she knew it was only to cut her clothes off. She felt shrills as the cold steel touched her warm skin, running along her sleeves. She froze. She did not want to be wounded. If there was a possibility for a quick death, maybe she would dart for it, but non-lethal wounds were pointless.<br><br>The sturdy material of her top proved hard to cut and Laughton had to proceed with jerks, yanks and sawing motion. Several times Jodie felt the point of the knife puncture her skin but she barely blinked her eyes. At last her top fell apart, soon followed by the bra. Jodie was now totally bare above the waist. Her muscles were bulging under her glistening, dark skin. Her breasts remained firm and hard even once deprived from the bra, they were heaving up and down calmly in spite of the stressful situation.<br><br>Jodie caught a glance the Major gave to her breasts. She was a Lesbian, no doubt about it. Would that turn in her favour? she doubted it. She was now working on her tight-fitting leather pants. She might have just pulled them down but she seemed to prefer to destroy them totally, cutting them apart along with her boots. Jodie's thong did not stay long and soon joined the heap of ruined clothes.<br><br>Jodie could feel the psychological impact of being stark naked among clothed ennemies. Even though her main weapons were her limbs, she felt more vulnerable now. She had gone through many dirty wars. She knew what awaited defeated female enemies. Hopefully here in Europe, and in the context of secrecy of this operation, she might escape too rough a treatment. Still, as all eyes focused on her athletic naked body. she clenched her fists, causing her biceps and forearm to bulge.<br><br>She was forced on her knees and her arms were grabbed and pressed together until her elbows touched. Jodie winced at the strain it put on her shoulders. Her breasts were pushed forward and apart by the cruel posture. Another zip tie attached them in that position. All of a sudden, her upper body has been rendered useless. She still had her legs and feet though, she thought, and they were her deadliest weapons.<br><br>A rope was attached around her wrists and soon she felt her arms tugged upwards. She quickly got on her feet to follow the pull but it continued until she was standing on her tip toes. And then it moved further, pulling her arms higher at a crazy angle behind her neck. She let out of hiss through her clenched teeth as her feet finally lost all contact with the floor. She immediately began to spin while swaying her legs around, trying to find something to stand on. The pain in her shoulders was barely bearable. It made her grimace even though she made a point not to produce any sound louder than hard panting. Actually, breathing was difficult in that position and she had to respire in shallow gasps.<br><br>Her legs were caught and bound in a way that put some more tension to her aching arms while arching her body and making her carefully, landing-strip trimmed pussy totally vulnerable.<br><br>Jodie focused all her energy into resisting the pain and trying to accustom herself to the agony of her nearly dislocated shoulders. Sweat was rolling down her struggling body in thick rivulets. She was clenching and unclenching her fists and toes.<br><br><strong>"You dyke! You may torture me, but that will not change the fact that your mission is a failure!" </strong>she said between clenched teeth, and then, lifting her head momentarily, she attempted to spit at Laughton. She had always admired those who had dared to spit at her when she was torturing them and she felt relieved that, now that the roles were reversed, she had the courage to do it too.<br><br>She would have kept glaring at Laughton's face but the strain in her shoulder was too much and she had to let her head fall down again. Beside, her dense black mane formed a screen around her face, hiding the grimaces the pain forced on it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AurelieCatena</strong> on <strong>26-06-2013, 17:20:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://media.weirdworm.com/img/life/6-types-of-halloween-costumes-analyzed/sexy.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Maria von Trapp</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Château's last floor</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Nikita/Tisha</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Leading Tisha to her room</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr>Without further word, Maria exited the library and led Tisha to the main, impressive, grandiose staircase that occupied the centre of the Château. She climbed to the last floor and indicated her a large room whose window offered a wide panorama on the park and the a little hill at some distance. Maria's own suite was on the same floor, facing south.<br><br><strong>"Here is your room. Your luggages are already here. If you need anything, just ring Bill. As for me, I'll be in the lab, I think."</strong>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: IRON FIST - Game Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Le Immortelle</strong> on <strong>17-07-2013, 20:30:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i49.tinypic.com/f43dok.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Nikita Stack</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Her room for the time being.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Alone</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Planning</td></tr></tbody></table><br><hr><br>The room, was an impressive one. Nikita took its view in, particularly the grand sight which the window offered and turned back with a smile. "Thank you so much for such warm welcome. I look forward to tomorrow."<br><br>The woman vanished and now she was left alone again. The door was shut down and Nikita could hear the woman's calm footsteps walk away in the distance. The moment she did, Nikita laid down on the bed, connecting with the secure link which Cavendish had set up for them. That pale shit, he could be quite handy (and rather kinky when he decided to be!) really. His last antic was an impressive one, but right now she had far more on her plate than marveling over past deeds. First, she sent a messge to her team.<br><br>"Orlando is in."<br><br>Then, she opened up her data on Tisha. Those complicated papers on research all stood in front of her now. God, this was irritating. Most of it she completely failed to understand. An actor, politician, security peronnel...heck, anyone she could easily impersonate. But a scientist? Was difficult! Now the relevant portions [or so she thought] were open in front of her, she fired another message.<br><br>"Cavendish, you twerp and rest of the team on this link, I need all of you help me <em>pronto</em>! I want you to feed me all the important information on Tisha's theories, her research and what she <em>intended</em> to achieve. I am thoroughly clueless with this right now because its just way too much for me to process and I have to meet Maria tomorrow and impress her with my so called knowledge. She already suspected me for brief moment but I managed. Disguise, is wonderful, the specifications of knowledge at my end? Are not!"
			</dd>
		</dl>
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