NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC:

This is set shortly after the passing of NARMO - see http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=384761 - a law which allows the government of Urukku to monitor the goings-on in Churches, mosques, synagogues, and other centers of worship. While Urukku has long been a Christian nation, this is part of a recent trend of oppressing opposing ideologies. Taxes are levied on nonbelievers - recently, the display of "Counternationalist Propaganda" has been forbidden, with a description vague enough to give Sfalat (state secret police) the power to censor anything it likes.

Feel free to join in and RP as a person living in Waverston - the city where it all began. Be a member of Sfalat, the regional defense militia, or just the general populace. No gun-totin', Jesus-hatin', n00k-wieldin', turkey-bastin' one-man-armies. TG me if you've got questions, comments, or ideas.

Also: UNLC = Urukkian Nationalist Lutheran Church

IC:
"NARMO Passes" read the headline. He had been expecting it. If you had read between the lines of the National Summary, it was already pretty obvious that the Councils were pretty much at a consensus on this. NARMO was passing - like it or not, because it was good for the UNLC, and the UNLC was good for the government.

Red Waterson, was thirty-nine, an Easter and Christmas Catholic who tossed in the occasional Sunday Service for good measure. He was a Catholic, because now there were no longer Catholics in Urukku - now he had become a Lutheran by Imperial Mandate.

Meh... not like I went to church anyway... what's the difference in a name?No reason to break out the signs and bullhorns. Signs and bullhorns - he knew if he clicked that red button on the remote control, that's what the TV would show. Endless protests in almost every city. Hell, the local one was just a few blocks over.

He heard the front door squeal and creak open, his wife walked through, red faced and distraught, with a frightened young Ken in tow.

"What happened?" asked Red, leaning against a doorframe.

"Father Bryant... they took him... there was a riot..." The far-off noise of shouting had grown louder, interspersed with snaps and pops.

"Why?"

"Because he won't... Incorporate? is that the word? He won't so they took him, and now they're destroying everything. I practically had to—" Her voice was drowned in the beating of helicopter blades.

There was a harsh, buzzing voice filled with steel that suddenly permeated the air: Attention. Your Attention please. Disperse to your homes immediately - that is an Imperial order - disperse to your homes immediately - failure to comply is treason - disperse to your homes immediately- the penalty for treason is death...

His wife looked hopelessly up at the sky, where five helicopters hung and menaced the Earth beneath them with bristling machine-guns eager to free a storm of metal death on the shrieking multitudes. The hellish chorus of chaos not far enough away grew louder, and the voice insisted Treason is Death! Treason is Death! Treason is Death! Then the guns of the floating craft fired - and the screams were hellish indeed.

Chris Rasmusen hit the ground. Bullets whizzed everywhere, people screamed. A bloody protest sign fell to the pavement before him, and Chris groaned. He was an idealistic youth of seventeen, and had come out with his girlfriend and classmates to protest the new law.

He rather thought that it was a bad idea, in retrospect. Chris started to crawl, calling out for his girlfriend.
'Jill?' He couldn't see anything, and he was too panicked to stand up. 'Jill, where are you?' More screams. 'Randy? Tom? Emily? Oh, God... where are you?' His mind was in turmoil. Chris set his teeth. He wouldn't find a damn thing down here, just shoes, blood and spent shells. He stood. A helecopter gunship was strafing the crowd, muzzles flashing. Blood seemed to mist in the air.

There. There was Jill, running in front of it. Guns flashed, and the horrible tat-tat of machine guns filled the air. A gunner took aim...

Chris stared, standing still. It was too far away... he couldn't do a thing. Not a damn thing. The gunner fired. Jill screamed, blood blossoming red on her chest. She fell. Blood pooled. She had a lot of blood. Chris screamed, not with terror, or pain, but with an anger that he did not know he posessed that welled up in him. He seemed rooted to the spot, staring at her body.

The gunship landed. Out came a debonair looking captain, stepping over the bodies. His boots stayed clean.
'People of Waverston,' he said, his voice carrying over the suddenly silent crowd. 'I am deeply sorry that these measures had to be taken, but the peace and prosperity of the Empire is, of course, foremost in the minds of all servicemen here today. You will immediately return home, and remain there until the situation is stable. Again, on behalf of the Empire, my apologies at the measures taken today.'
Chris just stared.

"WHAT?" Colonel Gabin cast his eyes earthward. The Phalanx-Marshal fumed, nearly shooting steam from his ears, "Who authorized lethal force?"

"You said to use whatever force was necessary."

"At what point, Colonel, does a demonstration by unarmed civilians necessitate lethal force." Gabin had no answer. "This is bad. Bad... We need to keep this off the news. I want all of Waverston quarantined. No one gets out, no one gets in without our permission until we figure out a more permanent solution.

OOC: sorry for the punitive post. I gotta go soon though.

*Secret Location of the Urukku Self Liberation Movment (USLM)*
"Sir, It seems our most belevonent dictator, opened fire on an "armed" millitia movment, what do you say?"
"Most likely some punk kids protesting with, "dangerious" signs, if the only good thing to come out of this is more support for our cause, let it be so."
"Sir, should we send out recruiters, and look for any kid who disires to make vengence his own?"
"You know the millitary will be up in arms over this, so you know the answer."
"So, it's a go, right?"
"Of course, what did you think I meant?"
"Uh, nothing really. Hey Tasha, what you doin this weekend?"
Tasha:"Non of your damn buisness, Cage! If I wanted to spend my weekends with you I'd shoot myself"
Cage:"Uh, uh, huh, come on Tasha you know you ain't got nothing to do, com on it ain't gonna kill you or nothin like that."
Tasha:"I'd rather get raped."
"Tasha, don't be tacky, Cage is only trying to get to know you."
Tasha:"But sir..."
"Tasha!"
Tasha:"Uh, yes sir Colonel Fritigern."
Colonel Fritigern:"Cage do what you do best."
Cage:"Hehe, cyber hacker Cage is on the job, hehe!"
Colonel Fritigern:"Tasha, get out on the streets and get as much info as you and you men can, got that?"
Tasha:"Yes Sir!, Corporal Lanya is at you becon call, Sir!"
Colonel Fritigern:"Tasha, just because I'm making you play nice doesn't mean you get to sas me, now go."
Tasha:"Yes Sir! Come on Cathy, boss wants his girls out on the street, again, lets go!"
Cathra:"Umm, sir... ma'm, it's Cathra, not Cathy."
Tasha:"Don't care, lets go"
Colonel Fritigern:"Uhh, why did I promise her father I'd look after her, damn a soldiers code, to Hell!"

Chris winced as he dabbed bactine on the numerous scrapes and cuts that he'd accumulated during the protest and subsequent massacre. His throat felt raw from sobbing. It wasn't just losing his girlfriend and most of his friends. Oh, that was certainly part of it, but more it was that his whole universe had come crashing down that made him so distraught.

Chris had always believed that the Empire had the best interests of the people at heart, but his illusion had been shattered with the bodies a few hours ago. He didn't trust the government anymore. The traffic cams were enemies, the police were out to get him. Once, it would have sounded crazy, but now, he wasn't so sure.

That night, he went for a walk in the bad part of town. Perhaps he had wanted to get beat up, or drunk, or laid. Chris didn't know. He stumbled past the Lusty Lady strip club, a beer and a joint in his hand. He was drunk, he knew it. He didn't care. A hooker posed on a streetcorner.
"Hey, big boy," she purred. "Want to play?" He shook his head, and the world spun. He staggered a bit further, then sank to the ground. There were two more women standing about, occasionally accosting passers by. He assumed that they were more streetwalkers, until he heard one refer to the other as Corporal. Either weird hookers, or military recruiters. Chris couldn't tell. He could ask. That seemed reasonable. He stood. The world rebelled against his sense of balance, and he clutched at the wall of a nearby building. Stumbling up to the two of them, he slurred.
"You hookers or jarheads?" They stared. That went well, Chris decided.

Beep-Beep-Beep - We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is not available. Please hang up and try again. Beep-Beep-Beep - We're sorry...

Kelly Waterson frowned. Her parents had lived in the same house in South Havenbrek for years with the same phone number. This was the third call, with the same automated response. Weird.

The news stations had stopped reporting protests, stopped reporting anything really, because all that filled the screens now were gray emblems reading Please Stand By accompanied by a tone in the same frequency range as nails on chalkboard. Outside, cadres of Urukkian soldiers roamed the streets, asking questions constantly - Do you have ID? Where are you going? Why?

Her family had taken to acute agoraphobia, reading, peering furtively through the blinds. Her husband couldn't go to work anymore, something he had learned at a roadblock three days ago, so he tinkered in the basement, experimenting in carpentry, or stared blankly at the computer screen at whatever the Imperial Web Service would allow him to view.

She turned on the TV for the umpteenth time. The constant wail had ceased. A face, incomprehensible through a mask of oversized pixels, had replaced the Please Stand By, and a voice, deep and ringing and probably distorted. "These are the things your government does not want you to see," it kept saying, and the screen flashed to seens of spilt blood and splattered brains, of protestors torn to lifeless, bloody flesh by machine gun fire. Thousands of pictures, a chorus of violence rising, moving faster and faster, then... Please Stand By

--------------------------------------

Phalanx West-Two Headquarters - Trevayne, Urukku

"OK, Gabin, I have your ass off the hook for now. I told the Phalanx Council and his majesty that we're conducting some heavy-duty counterinsurgency here, so they'll buy that quarantine. Now, I have to wonder how you plan to convince the people in Waverston that what happened... y'know... didn't."

Gabin sipped his coffee, an ancient brew vile with soured milk and lukewarm temperature. "I don't have anything yet. I stepped up the propaganda a little, but... we need something more serious."

The Phalanx-Marshal nodded. "What do you have in mind?"

"I..." he coughed on a drop of coffee, "I have a few friends in Sfalat, who could help maybe." The Empire's secret police under the Board of Corporate and Religious Inquiry were known as adepts at information extraction and psychological control. "After that?" He shrugged.

"Let's hope there is no 'After That,' shall we?"

"I'll drink to that."

Samantha's voice rose in her prayer to the goddess Diana, as did the voices of the rest of the coven. The eight women were dressed in pure white robes, and were partaking in a ritual to commune with the Goddess and find out how they should react to this news. Their religion was likely to be outlawed. Should they hide themselves, as they often had done in the past, or should they protest this injustice?
The eight women gathered around the pentagram and prayed to their godess. The doorbell rang.
Jennifer, a tanned young woman, went to the door. She opened it a little to see who it was, when it was slammed open. Jennifer was pushed onto the ground at gunpoint. As men in body armor with automatic weapons flooded into her home, Lianna, the High Priestess, backed up a step, raising her hands in surprise. But the men with the guns descided to take the ceremonial Dacra Knife in her hands as a threat. She gasped as three shots tore through her chest, staining her white robes.
The rest of the women were forced to the ground and handcuffed. The circle was erased. Their pentacles were confiscated. Jennifer and Samantha were crying. Then they were stood up in a line and a man walked in front of them.
He stopped in front of Samantha. "Where do you have the human sacrifice?" He demanded.
"There... We don't sacrifice people... There is no-" She was cut off by the but of a rifle hitting her in the stomach. She fell backwards. The man went to each of them, and as they each gave the same reply, he gave the same treatment to each. Then finally they were led out to a large truck, patted down humiliatingly, and shoved inside. The doors were locked.
Samantha didn't know what to do. Lianne was dead. She could hardly believe it. She tried to calm herself by picturing her high priestess and close friend happy in the summerlands, but all she could see was her body, her blood, all over.
They were taken to a building and very humiliatingly strip searched. After this they were given prison jumpsuits and led to cells. Samantha was told that her trial would likely be in a few days. "I hope they put you up in front of the squad too." The guard said. And then she was left alone.

(ooc these orders were given by the person directly in charge of these particular soldiers. Whether their actions are punished or rewarded, and what now happens to the girls, is up to the country)

Jamie Stephens, member of the Sfalat, thought about the conversation he had just had with his superior. Obviously, things were getting rough in the city, as usual when the rabble failed to understand the necessity of the actions taken by the government. Bah. His instructions so far was simply to await further orders, staying away from possible trouble in the meantime.

He rose to his feet, looking around in his small apartment. It was orderly, quiet. The way he liked it. As he paced back and forth through the room, he stopped for a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror. A man in his late forties, his short hair beginning to go grey. Dressed in a somewhat informal suit, he looked quite respectable, important. A patriot at heart, it pained him to see such violence tearing the city apart.

He reached inside his suit, felt the cold reasssuring wheight of his handgun in his chest pocket. Soon, he would get to take action. And the scum would know the error of their ways... Or so he hoped.

bump

ooc: Someone else bumped one of my threads? I feel so honored. :D

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IC:

Colonel Gabin shook hands with another new arrival. She wore a crisp black and red uniform, with a lapel-pin to indicate that she was a captain in Sfalat, and the commanding officer of the secret police forces that had been flown in by his special request.

“Aimee, good to see you.” The Colonel gestured to a seat.

She drew a cigarette from her breast pocket. “D’y’mind?”

“Go ahead.”

She lit up, took a thick drag, and said: “So, what’s up. Counterinsurgency?”

“Worse.”

“Worse?”

The Colonel gave a nervous giggle, “Heh, we… overreacted…”

“How?”

“The protests were getting violent, so we authorized lethal force to disperse them. Fifty people bought it.”

Aimee Prithers listened with her eyes closed, her cigarette glowing orange with each breath she took. “So what do you want?”

“I don’t know… something that will make people forget… a story they’ll believe.”

“Well, I don’t see how, you’ve got hundreds of eyewitnesses, right? Short of total depopulation I don’t think you can keep this bottled up forever.”

“Don’t say that, the option’s becoming more and more attractive every minute.”

There came a tapping at the door, and the warden poked his head in: “New arrivals sir.” Gabin beckoned the warden over to him.

"Any problems?"

"We had to kill one of them during the capture, but otherwise they're pretty submissive."

"What'd they do?"

"She had a weird-lookin' knife she was flailin' in the air. Looked pretty dangerous, so we took her down."

“What is it?” asked Aimee.

“Religious dissidents. They’re coming out of the woodwork. What were they?”

The warden looked at the sheet, “Witches, sir.”

“I’d like to speak to them,” said Aimee.

The Colonel turned to her, his jaw slack with surprise. “Why?”

“To get some information on something, Colonel. We need a starting point – if you want to clean up this little mess here, we’ve got to figure out what’s going on right now. I’m going to put ten of my officers on interview detail, and I want them to interview at least four different people a day, until everyone you have detained is questioned. Then they will be questioned again. We’re going to start with these witches.”

He held his hands up, “OK, whatever you want, we’ll go down now.”

“Good.” The warden led them down to the cells, and amongst that sea of sullen faces – “Her.”

Her: Samantha.

Samantha looked up. She had been huddled in the corner, crying. It wasn't supposed to be like this... This type of thing just isn't supposed to happen...
She looked with fear at the people outside of her cell, but also with a determination that she wouldn't break down. She didn't think there was anything she could do to get them to let her go, but she wasn't going to break down in front of them. She pulled herself onto the cot and looked, waiting for one of them to start.

They lead Samantha to another room, more comfortable than the cell, better lit than the interrogation rooms shown on police melodramas. Hell, if you put a few papers and books on the desk, it might look like a run-of-the-mill office.

Aimee gestured for her to sit in a leather chair that reeked of dust. Samantha carefully lowered herself, looking like she half-expected the chair to bite her. The two brutes who had escorted her to the room at gunpoint left at a gesture from Aimee.

"Well... Samantha, is it? I am Captain Aimee Prithers, from the Board of Corporate and Religious Inquiry. I have some questions for you..." She looked down at the outline she had drawn for herself:

Ascertain:
-Cause of arrest.
-Involvement in anti-NARMO protests
-Practices as a Witch

Remember - Be cheery, but don't let her evade.

Note to Self - whole sheet of paper probably wasn't necessary.


The interview began...

OOC:

Cyrian - I'm going to leave it up to you to RP the interview, here, just follow some guidelines for Aimee. She's mostly asking questions, she's interrogating, not conversing, but she's also trying to be friendly. She could throw in a few "icebreaker" questions before she starts trying to find out her main points. Make sure to cover what I listed under "Ascertain," but feel free to let the questioning allow more revelation about Samantha and the coven.

Walking down an alley way to the site of the protest

Tasha:"Hey Cathra, you still a virgin?"
Cathra:*shocked*"Uh, ump, uh, eh... I... don't think that has anything to do with our assignment, now does it?"
Tasha:"Ah, I see, so you are, what you waiting for, your death bed? In this line of work you have to live life to it's fullest."
Cathra:"Shut up, shut the hell up, you have no right to talk to me that way!"

Tasha backs Cathra to the wall, and puts her hands on the wall on both sides of Cathra's head

Tasha:"What way, this way, I bet you that no man wants you, all they see is a frightened little girl, is that right? Or..."
Cathra:"SHut the Hell UP!" Tries to push her way out of Tasha's embrace, but fails, Tasha leans in close and puts her lips to Cathra's ear
Tasha:"I bet that your wet from all this talk aren't you?"
Cathra:"... ... ..."

Tasha backs away from Cathra and takes point

Tasha:"Hurry up... Cathra, don't want to keep the raw recruits waiting."

With that said Cathra gets of the wall and walks behind Tasha

Cathra:"Why did you say those things to me?"
Tasha:"No reason, just an impulse, like I said, live life to the fullest."

Tasha and Cathra exited the alleyway into a fenced in clearing with a group of people, mostly young kids who saw or even worse were part of the masacare

Tasha:"Hey Jerole, see your as charming as ever."
Jerole:"Hey well if it ain't the queen bitch herself, how the world been treatin you?"
Tasha:"Not bad, oh, Jerole, this is Cathra, Cathra this is Jerole Friti's main man on the street."
Cathra:"Nice to meet you."
Jerole:"The pleasure is all mine." *bows*
Tasha:"So this is the new meat you spoke of, are they 'trustable'?"
Jerole:"Yes, all in the last week have had conflict with autority other then the massacare, if that's what you mean."
Tasha:"Well now, that we are past formalitie's I think I'll adress the troops."
Tasha:"I see that many of you here were involved with what the S FAT are pawning of as a "rebel attack" *low laughter*, before you leave here tonight you will be given information on where to meet for your training."
Jerole:"You will learn all you need to fight this regime, and DESTROY IT!" *cheers*

Tasha:"Jerole if this is all there is to do I think I'll leave the rest to you and Cathra."
Cathra:"What? What are you talking about?"
Tasha:"Why do you think Frit sent you out here? He sent you so you could train them in Explosives, after all that is your speciality, right?"
Cathra:"Yeah but I learned to disarm bombs not make them."
Tasha:"What's the difference?"
Cathra:"Well alot to begin..."
Tasha:"I was being retorical, there is no difference, you've seen enough bomb plans to know how they work and how to make them, so this is where I leave you in the most capable of hands."
Cathra:"But..."
Tasha:"Not Butts, got it now I'm leaving, be back in four weeks, see you Jerole."

Tasha walks away waving behind her

Jerole:"Well it seem it just you, me, and the recuits best get started, kay?"
Cathra:"Yeah, if you think so."

Aimee descided to break the silence. "Samantha, I know this has been a horrible day for you. You were arrested and someone you knew was killed. Now I want to make things easier for you, but to do that I need you to talk to me. Do you think you can do that?"
Samantha nodded, and then said "Yes."
"good. Things will go much more smoothly for you and your friends if you cooperate with us." Aimee said
Samantha nodded.
"So, tell me what it is you were doing last night."
Samantha choked back tears. "We... we were doing a ritual to find... The intent of the Goddess."
Aimee nodded. "And this Goddess of yours?"
Samantha began talking about being a wiccan, about the beliefs her Coven had, about the placid Goddess Diana, About the wiccan rede (Harm none, but do what ye will) and several other subjects. The interrogation eventually led back to the dead Priestess, Lianna.
"So how well did you know the woman who was killed." Aimee asked.
"I've known her for years. She was like a third parent to me. I... I can't believe that she's dead." At this point, Samantha came very close to doing what she had sworn she wouldn't do. She just wanted to curl up in the fetal position and cry.
"So why was she trying to attack the armed soldiers with a knife?" Aimee asked.
Samantha was a bit taken aback by this question. "Attack... She didn't attack anybody! The Athame is a ceremonial blade, it can never be used to cut, especially not as a weapon!"
Aimee nodded, taking note. "So tell me, why do you think you were arrested?"
"for practising witchcraft I guess. I don't know. The men just showed up at the front door with guns."
Aimee went further into what she wanted to know. "Did you, or any members of your coven, participate in or have involvement in any of the protests which we have seen recently?"
Samantha shook her head. "No. That's actually what we were asking the Goddess, whether we should participate or not."
Aimee nodded. "Alright, is there anything else I need to know?"
Samantha thought, then nodded. "There's one thing. After... after they came in and captured all of us, and... Shot Lianna, they lined us up and someone asked us where we were keeping the human sacrifice. But there wasn't a human sacrifice, we never do that. We dont sacrifice anything in Wicca. When we told him that, he hit us with the butt of his rifle."
Aimee nodded. "well, that will be all, I suppose." She signalled the guards to escort Samantha back to her cell, and thought about what she had learned.

(As the rally came to an end, Jerole was giving them the drections)
Jerole:"So everyone got the directions? Anyone have any questions?"
"Yeah I have one, when is the first meeting!"
Jerole:"Whats you name?"
"Achilles, french not greek, why you ask?"
Jerole:"Got to know the name of the bitch I'm gonna ride, for the rest of you these "meetings" are like boot camp, you show up you don't leave, and don't worry the camp ain't at the multiple meeting places, so no fear of being ratted on, also if you try to leave before trainin be through, well... lets just say don't try, it ain't pretty."
Achilles:"So the only choice we have to fight the Government is you? Am I rihgt?"
Jerole:"You got that one right, don't let it go to your head. Now that the questionaire portion of this meeting is over get lost till tommorow, and stay our of trouble. Got that?"
Group:"Yes Sir"

(When the recruits left, Jerole approached Cathra)

Jerole:"Hey Cathra you OK?"
Cathra:"Yeah but where do I go? I can't go back to the base can I?"
Jerole:"Tasha didn't tell you?"
Cathra:"What? Tell me what?"
Jerole:"You be stayin with me till we get to the camp, that's all."
Cathra:*shocked*"What? I'm staying with you? Uh, no offence but I don't even know you."
Jerole:"Yeah and I don't know you, but you got to stay some where, and you can't go back to base, so there be no other option, so you come with me, and we go back to my house till tomorrow."
Cathra:"Um, well, OK, if it's my only choice."
Jerole:"You be soundin like that Achilles boy, hah, now that is funny, No?"
Jerole:"Anyway we got to go, no tellin when S FAT be through here, specially on a night like this. Come now lets go."

(Jerole and Cathra left together for Jeroles apartment)

(After a short trip Cathra and Jerole reach his appartment)
Cathra:"So this is your room is it?"
Jerole:"Yep, what you think bout it?"
Cathra:"It's... a... clean."
Jerole:"What you expect, me room be messy like a bachalore pad?"
Cathra:"Well yeah, you aren't married, right?"
Jerole:"Nope, not no more, not since she die and I join, must ave picked up some traits from er."
Cathra:"I'd say."
Cathra:"Was she..."
Jerole:"Buetifull to make da angels weep, smart to make men ponder, kind too, a great careing soul."
Cathra:"I'm sorry, I... didn't know."
Jerole:"No, well... can't be mad at ya now can I? So you want da bed or couch?"
Cathra:"Huh, what do you mean?"
Jerole:"I mean were you wanna sleep tonight, in da bed or on da couch?"
Cathra:"I don't want to kick you out of your bed."
Jerole:"You be needin some good rest, I take da couch, you take da bed, you like eggs?"
Cathra:"Huh, Yes, I do like eggs, why do you ask?"
Jerole:"Breakfast what else, now we get some sleep, shower over der if you use it, towels inside. Bed in da back good night, Cathy."
(Jerole falls on the couch, takes off his shoes, and falls asleep)
Cathra:"Good night, Jerole."
Cathra:I think I'll get cleaned first. (Cathra steeps into the shower and lets the water run down her back) Why did Tasha do that
*flaskback*
(Walking down an alley way to the site of the protest)
Tasha:"Hey Cathra, you still a virgin?"
Cathra:*shocked*"Uh, ump, uh, eh... I... don't think that has anything to do with our assignment, now does it?"
Tasha:"Ah, I see, so you are, what you waiting for, your death bed? In this line of work you have to live life to it's fullest."
Cathra:"Shut up, shut the hell up, you have no right to talk to me that way!"
(Tasha backs Cathra to the wall, and puts her hands on the wall on both sides of Cathra's head)
Tasha:"What way, this way, I bet you that no man wants you, all they see is a frightened little girl, is that right? Or..."
Cathra:"SHut the Hell UP!" (Tries to push her way out of Tasha's embrace, but fails, Tasha leans in close and puts her lips to Cathra's ear)
Tasha:"I bet that your wet from all this talk, aren't you?"
Cathra:"... ... ..."
(Tasha backs away from Cathra and takes point)
Tasha:"Hurry up... Cathra, don't want to keep the raw recruits waiting."
(With that said Cathra gets off the wall and walks behind Tasha)
Cathra:"Why did you say those things to me?"
Tasha:"No reason, just an impulse, like I said, live life to the fullest."
**************************************************
Cathra:"Why did you say those things Tasha, why?"
(Cathra dries herself off before setteling into the bed)
Cathra:"Why, Tasha, why? Why did you do those things and say those things, why?"
(Cathra then falls asleep pondering Tasha's actions)

One woman, the older of the two, suddenly pushed the younger against the wall of the building. Chris stared, confused. He had been ignored before, but not this completely.

"What way, this way, I bet you that no man wants you, all they see is a frightened little girl, is that right?" The older woman crooned. The younger shouted, pushing back. Chris stepped away unsteadily. Drunk as he was, he didn't want to get involved in a lesbian rape scene. As he drew back, so did the older woman, and the two walked along. They met another, a man this time, and Chris was able to overhear. Talk of bombs and recruits. He sunk to the ground, the concrete cold against his rear. He played the drunk, listening well. The recruits spoken of marched up, and the man gave them what appeared to be marching orders. If this was a pimp and his herd, it was certainly a weird one. As the kids marched off behind the older woman, the man took the younger one by the hand and walked off. Chris rose, his legs steadier than before.

He had a feeling. This looked like an organized movement. And a seditious one. He felt quite seditious, and decided to follow. He started off behind the troops, but realized that they'd probably shoot a strange man following them. So instead he turned, following the man.

(Jerole woke a little later, in time to see Cathra move to the bedroom, but something else caught his attention, foot steps outside the door. Jerole lazily got up and walked his way to the door, and listened for the foot steps.
When Jerole heard the foot steps stop in front of his door he grabed his knife and the door knob. In one fell swoop he opened the door in time to catch someone at his door, a young punk kid, not knowing who he was, Jerole grabed the kid by the collar pulled him inside and closed the door behind him.
Jerole then pressed him to the door and flashed his knife to the kid.)

Jerole:"Who are you? Answer punk or I'll cut you ear ta ear! Got it? I said do you unda stand me, boy?"
"Chris, my name's Chris."
Jerole:"What you doin here?"

OOC: Hey Gurguvungunit take it from "What you doin here?", and make it a long and complicated answer, then I'll get back to it. Ok?

OOC:Cool

IC:

Chris' eyes widened in fear. Sure, this was better than being shot, but not all that much.

"Look, man. I don't want any trouble," Chris tried not to stammer. "I-I'm... sort of looking for the rebellion. My girlfriend and all of my friends were killed by the government, and," his voice cracked. Chris flushed red, then continued in a more measured tone. "And so I came down here. I saw you and the two... women. I gathered that you were rebels. So, I followed you, seeing as you're less likely to kill me on sight than the recruits... so here I am."

Jerole:"How old are you? 15, kid don't waste my time, I can smell da liquir on ya, you're drunk and you're makin a choice out of fear and hate, to tell ya da truth I probably should cut ya, but cause I'm in such a good mood I'll let ya sober up for ya talk again, allright? Allright!?
Chris:"Yes!"
Jerole gave the kid something called a "space oyster" which is an egg mixed with chilli powder, olive oil, and other ingredients.
Jerole:"Drink it, it"ll sober you up." The kid drank it. "Or screw you up, one or the other."
"Now that you're sick or sober, tell me, do ya want to join up or do you want to go home?"
"Cause if ya join then there ain't no turnin back see? Now make da choice ta give ya life up and fight the S FAT, or ya walk through that door and never return, got it? So, what will it be? Vengence, or a life, ya can't have both, only one... or da other?"

Chris gagged at the taste of the man's odd concoction, and tried to listen over the rebellion of his GI tract.

"Look, mister. My entire life was wiped out in about ten minutes by the Empire. I think that I'm entitled to a little alcohol. And as for your question," Chris faltered for an instant. "I... I'd rather be here than anywhere else. My parents are too scared to do anything, they're converting right now. I'd like to stay Jewish, thank you, and I'm willing to fight for my freedom of worship." Chris winced, knowing well how idealistic he sounded. Surprisingly, he didn't care at all. "I can fire a gun, I'm even a pretty good shot hunting. Some might call me sniper material, but I couldn't say."

Jerole:"Well if ya feel that stongly, then no man on earth or heaven can deter you, chukling right?" "Kid if ya in, then stay here da night, and in the morning I'll take you to da training grounds, and as for 'sniper material' well... will let skill be the judge of that. We're not some two bit rebelion kid, we're professional, through an through. Now if you've made up ya mind to join you get the other couch, chuckling."

After saying what he said Jerole went to the couch and fell on it with a thud, he then covered his eyes with his hat, and prepared to sleep.

Jerole:"Well what's da hold up?"

Light streamed in through the blinds, dragging Chris into a world of pain. His head hurt in ways that it hadn't ever hurt before. His eyes felt like some small animal was behind them, trying to get out. His mouth felt like someone had filled it with cotton and broken his jaw, then reset it, and broken it again. He hated hangovers.

Chris rolled on his side, expecting to see his familiar room, with its familiar clutter and familiar piles of homework. Instead he saw a compulsively neat bachelor pad.

Memories came crashing back. He nearly cried. He didn't, and instead fell off the couch. Pain. Hangovers suck. He could hear, through the pounding in his head, someone puttering around what he guessed was the kitchen. He stood up with an effort, and shuffled into the kitchen.

Chris pushed the door open, expecting to see the man who had first threatened him, then nearly poisoned him, then given him a couch to sit on. Instead, he saw a confused looking young woman, frying an egg.
"Hi there," he said as clearly as he could. "I'm Chris Rasmusen. I guess I didn't meet you when I... came in last night. Who're you?"

Cathra was busy making breakfast when she noticed the young man waking up.
Cathra:"Um, hello there, uh I don't remember you walking in with Jerole and myself, so who are you? And how did you get in here?"
Just then Jerole steped out of the rest room fully clothed.
Jerole:"Cathra don't bother da kid, he got a hang over." "So, Chris ya head hurt yet? Just think of how bad it would be if ya didn't drink dat egg, laughter, ya can freshen up in da bathroom, and when ya get out ya sit down an have some eggs with us, kay? Good, oh and I forgot to introduce you two, Cathra dis here is Chris, Chris dis is Cathra, don't let her looks fool ya she's ex-special forces, laughter."
Cathra:"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT JEROLE!"
Jerole:"Calm down, I mean nothin by it, just a joke, dat all, hehe."
Cathra:"Huh, you don't desserve any eggs Jerole."
Jerole:"Hey those eggs are mine ta begin with, and secondly..."
Cathra:"Ok, ok, I get the point Jerole, you don't have to tell me twice, geehs." "Hey Chris, don't stay too long in there, we'll be leaving soon, got that?"

Chris nodded unsteadily. He studied the two people with whom his life had intersected. Both, he guessed, were freedom fighters, but only the man... Jerole, looked the part. Cathra seemed as vulnurable as he, with dark smudges under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and a slightly troubled twist to her lips.

"I'll try to be quick." Chris' own voice sounded strange, like everything around him. He made his way to the bathroom, and turned on the cold water. He splashed his face, getting water all over the formica countertop. He cursed and grabbed for a length of toilet paper to sop up the mess. The sudden movement unbalanced him, and he nearly went over. Realizing that he would have to cure the hangover somehow, he opened the medicine cabinet and borrowed some Advil. He drank it down with some water and sopped up that which had spilled on the counter.

Toweling off, he pushed open the door to find Jerole and Cathra ready to go. He cast about for his coat, but to no avail. About to give up, he looked down. It was still on. He'd never taken it off.

"So, where are we going?"

When Chris walks out of the bathroom Cathra is waiting by the door and Jerole has a grim look on his face.Cathra:"Hmm, took long enough, come on, no breakfast for you!"
Jerole:"Chuckling, that'll teach ya ta take a shower when a lady is waiting." Jerole pulls a muffin out of his coat pocket and tosses it to chris. "Er, ya go, best eat up, no tellin how long it take ta get to the base."
Cathra
After Chris catches the muffin Cathra leads the way to the rendezvous.
Cathra:"So Jerole, were are we meeting the troops to be?"
Jerole:"At da camp."
Cathra:"Uh, don't we have to lead them there?"
Jerole:"It is your fitst time out on da street eh? Any way if the S FAT saw a large group of people walkin inta da forrest, I think they'd suspect somethin, no they all got their own boy scout see, they all arrive in small groups then we set um up un train em in da art of urban warfare, guerrilla warfare, and non-conventional tactics."
Cathra:"Oh, I was wondering how we were going ot get a large group into the camp unseen, hmm."
Jerole:"Eh Chris, don't fall behind, or ya get lost and no one find ya, laughter."

OOC: Where the hell is everyone else? Like.. Urukku et. al?

IC:
Chris quickened his pace a bit, catching up with Jerole and Cathra. He munched on his muffin, still slightly fuzzy from Jerole's pocket fluff. Since it was the first thing he'd eaten in days, though, he didn't care.

***************
Urukku Imperial Aerodrome, Urukku
0900 Hours
International Flights Concourse
Seraph Kane passed through the security check without a beep. Her change was passed to her in a small container, and she slipped it into her pants pocket. Currently, she was dressed inconspicuously, wearing semi-tight low cut jeans, a tee shirt and a jacket with some brand name splashed on the back. She felt like a walking advertisment.

In truth, Seraph was a bounty hunter, recently hired by someone within the Empire of Urukku to capture religious deviants. Why, she couldn't fathom. The secret police were rumored to be among the most effective and deadly in the world, but Seraph viewed it as easy money, so why not?

She made her way out of the concourse, picking up her luggage on the way. One thing that was nice about totalitarian regimes, they could give her special dispensation to carry loaded guns, so long as she checked them. Same went for her impressive array of knives and swords, which occupied a second case. Thus burdened, she made her way out onto the airport drive.

A distinguished looking man in his sixties held a sign that read 'Kane', signalling her ride. He ushered her towards a large towncar and helped her load her two cases. The man opened to door for her, and she seated herself.

*click*

A small, metallic pressure made itself known at the back of her head.
"Don't move, Ms Kane, I'd hate to kill you."

As the small group reched the edge of the forrest Jerole warned them not to sepperate. After a few hour hiking through back country they reached a camoflauged opening. They then approached a large center tent, and as they enterd they meet one of the instructors, Ex Major Kevin Kilige.

Jerole:"Good mornin Major, how ya doin?"
Major:"Boy, didn't your mama teach you to talk right? Where you been the cadets started arriving ten minutes ago. Who's this?
Jerole:"Keepin out a sight, and this boy here is Chris, he is here ta fight, he may look weak but he a strong back, Major, but don't break him."
Major:"I don't break em' the course does, so whats your speciality, boy?"
Cathra:"Sir, I'm your new explosives instructor, I was transffered by the Commander himself." Salutes
Major:"Nice to meet you little lady, I'll give you the tour of the grounds in a minute." "Jerole put him to work, and train him."
Jerole:"Yes, sir, Major, Chris you with me, come now."

Chris and Jerole then left the tent.

Chris offered a haphazard salute to 'Major' Kilige, then hurried after Jerole. Suddenly, his safe, ordered world had come apart, and far from studying for the upcoming Science exam, he was soon to be training with rifles. His reverie was interrupted by Jerole, who tapped him on the shoulder.
"Anyone alive in that head?" He continued before Chris could answer. "Here's where you get off. It's the training ground. Report to Sergeant Franken in the tent on the left." Chris smiled weakly. He turned to go.
"And, Chris?" It was Jerole. "Good luck."

Sergeant Franken was not who he had expected. Not a towering, thundering, crew cut man with biceps the size of Rhode Island, but a five foot four young woman with pale skin and shoulder length purple-black hair. Chris shuffled up to her.
"Sergeant Franken?" She focussed her eyes on him, and his insides turned to jelly.
"Yes," she replied. "What can I do for you?"
"I-I'm here to report for training. I'm one of the recruits." Her eyes turned to steel.
"You're late, cadet."
"Sorry, ma'am. I came with Jerole, behind the rest of the party." Franken's eyes accused him silently.
"Join the group. They're over there."

As soon as chris meet up with the formation, they were doing streches and drills, he settled into the formation between two young men his age.

"Hey whats your name?" the guy to his left asked, "Mine's, Hikerio, nice to meet you."

"Skipping huh, Hi, the names Derek." the guy to his right said.

"So why you late?" inquired Derek, "You arrive late or just slow?"

"Don't mind them, they're just jelious that you didn't get your guts ripped out by the sergeant." said a voice from behind him.

When Chris looked over his shoulder he saw a beautiful young girl with strawbery blonde hair and one hazel and one blue eye. When he looked at her she winked, turning his all ready jelly insides to water.

"My names Darla, these two are my freinds, I beleive they already introduced themselves."

Chris tried to speak but could muster a squek, which caused him to blush an unsightly shade of pink.

As the drills and stretches wore on the sergeant began walking through the ranks of recruits inpecking them thoroughly.

"Sergeant, I need to talk to you." shouted Jerole from the edge of the formation.

"Continue your drills, grunts, I'll be back soon enough."

Then the Sergeant and Jerole walked into the closest tent and were out of sight.

"So you gonna answer our questions." asked Derek.

Chris tried to rally his voice, and managed to get out the words
"Ahg... My name's Chris Rasmusen. Cadet Rasmusen now, I guess," he trailed off again, his eyes betraying him and taking a quick peek at Darla. Yep, still gorgeous. "I came with Jerole and the explosives girl, Cathra. So, yeah, I came late."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sergeant Franken returning from her conversation with Jerole. He went back to stretching his hamstring. The other two fell silent as well, and Sergeant Franken resumed her place at the head of the group. Her voice rang out, still cold as ice.
"Corporal Hendrix, please issue weapons," she barked to a young man with a crew cut and several crates. Franken returned her attention to the Cadets.
"Platoon, attention! I am now going to issue you your weapon. Each one of you will recieve an AK-47 Assault Rifle, a bayonet and a sheath. You will attach the sheath to your uniform belt, and hold the rifle like so." She unslung her own gun and held it with her right hand on the handle and her left supporting the barrel. "Once you have recieved your weapon, go to the firing range." Corporal Hendrix began handing out rifles, and each cadet readily assumed the required stance, then headed out to the range.

OOC: Where the hell is Urukku?

OOC: On vacation I think, have you TG'd em?
IC
As the troop made their way to the fireing range Darla, Derek, and Hikerio fell in with Chris for the hike to come. As Darla fell to the right of Chris, he felt a lump in his throut build until it was so bad he couldn't swallow, then to his left Hikerio asked him a question. "So Chris, did you join for revenge, or rebelion? If you don't feel like answering I will understand."

From beind him Dereks hand fell on his back dislodgeing the lump, "Hey man you gotta lossen up, you'll live longer, till you're in combat I mean." laughing.

"Derek, don't be so crude, I think Chris could make a great soldier." was Darla's response to Derek's comment."

As the group continued down the path they came up on a well wooded area, perfect for hiding beneath. And at the end of a long line of trees was a group of targets, what must be the target range.

The world slowly swam into view out of the surrounding greyness. Annelle groaned and tried to sit up, despite a fiery pain in her right arm. The world in this case appeared to consist of an abandoned garage. She slumped back down again.

She had only gone to the protest for moral reasons - she'd never thought anything would come of it. But she was always so explosive about it in her newspaper column... she couldn't not go without being a hypocrite. Besides, she'd been fired. For no reason. That meant the government was stepping up it's persecution. And yet... firing upon an unarmed protest...

She managed a weak grin. She was now un-armed in more ways than one. Turning over carefully, she examined her arm. Through the caked blood she made out a long cut all the way down her fore-arm - it was a miracle she hadn't bled to death. She also appeared to be missing a finger.

The movement had started the bleeding afresh, and she awkwardly tore a strip of cloth off her shirt to bind it with, using her left hand. Crawling over to a bench, she found some dust-covered duct tape and managed a make-shift sling. Systematically feeling herself over for more injuries, she found a huge bruisee covering the left side of her forehead, swelling her eye slightly but not enough to impede vision. Her legs were covered with a myriad of shrapnel-scratches. Nothing life-threatening was apparant. She pulled herself up to look around.

The scenery swirled around her, and she clutched the wall for stability. When the dizziness passed, she felt around her dry mouth with her tongue and wondered how long she'd been out. How had she got here, anyway? She remembered running, and bullets flying past her, and a sharp pain in her arm, and then... a fence. She'd fallen over a fence, unable to see where she was going through the blood and tears. and staggered through a long-abandoned garden to some kind of building, where she'd collapsed.

She staggered towards the door and peeped outside...



ooc: Urukku's responsible for whatever may or may not be outside.

(OOC: Best tie your up with some ones else quick or else you'll be lost in the world)

ooc: Good point. Although there's something to be said for variety.

Annelle stood in front of the door for a while, blinking in the sunlight. When her eyes became attuned to the light, she started walking through the tangled weeds around to the back of the abandoned house, wondering where to go from here. Any kind of hospital would want to know how she was injured - no matter what she told them, they'd figure out what happened eventually, and then the government would find out, and they wouldn't be happy with a witness popping out of the woodwork, now would they?

She stopped short. There was a gate. She sighed, and started working on the rusty latch lefthandedly. It finally gave way and she was in the back yard, which was if possible more overgrown than the front. Her foot hit something in the long grass - she bent down and picked it up, despite the bolt of pain that shot through her head. It was a reasonably rust-free pitch fork. Annelle thought for a moment, and then decided to take it with her - just in case. After a bit of experimental hedge-beating she found she could wield it left handed with some force. Besides, she could lean on it. Yeah.

Out the back gate into an alley. Through some more alleys, hiding once behind a rubbish bin as a couple of guys ducked past in search of privacy, then out onto... more vegetation.

After what seemed like hours of trudging through it, but wiping the crusted blood off her watch confirmed was only about 45 minutes, she walked over a hill into a bunch of trees. She sighed and leaned against a tree. Was there any point to this? Where was she going, anyway? Away from the city, that's where. Less police, less chance of dying...

Suddenly she stood upright. A noise. That was... a voice. This wood wasn't quite as uninhabited as she'd thought. She crept through the trees and peered out from behind one. Then she immediately ducked back. Guns!

"Shit!" she muttered, her voice cracking after a few days of disuse. That reminded her of her thirst. Damn damn damn. What were the odds of these people being official?

She took another look and noted the ragged look - these were new recruits. But for who? Then she saw Chris. He'd been at the rally, hadn't he? Yes, she was sure of it! He was what's'ernames boyfriend, the girl who... was behind her. The one who died.

She made a decision and stepped out of the trees, pitchfork in hand.

At the fireing range everone was being lectured on the proper way to hold an AK47 and how best to use bayonnets. While others were already practicing bayonnet charges and fireing both side arms and main weapons.
When out of no where a girl holding a pitchfork enterd the range, at first everyone including the sergeant thought that their rebellion had ended before it ever got the chance to star. But upon furthur inspection, she appeared to be wounded and was caked in blood, it wasn't long before she collapesed in sight. As the sergeant and recruits rushed forwards not sure what to expect, Chris and his new freinds were worried about the girl a ran past the crowd to get a veiw.

Who are you, how did you find this place, what happened to you, these were the questions that were shouted franticly by the sergeant and her staff. But to no avail the girl didn't seem to have the strength to move let alone speak.

"Corporal go back to the camp and grab the doc and Jerole, got that?" commanded Sergeant Carla Franken. As the corporal rushed off the sergeant did her best until the doc got there. When he arrived he checked her and decided that besides dehydration and the loss of her right middle finger she was ok, and ordered Hikerio and two others to trace her steps and find the missing limb.

As she was carted off all she coul hear was "It alright you're safe now, don't worry we won't let you die." before she passed out from a combination of pain, blood loss, and dehydration.
_________________________________________________________________

When the girl woke up she found herself in a tent that was obviouly use as a medical room, as she moved he hands before her eyes she noticed that she had gotten a prosthetic finger instead of her old one, but felt a little thirsty still. When through the door walked the doctor and on of his aids.

"Oh I see that you are alive, and intact. If you get the chance you might want to offer your thanks to Hikerio, after all he was the one that made that prosthetic. Aid get her some water she looks parched." "Yes doctor, on my way." "So now that your awake, do you have anything to say?" the doctor inquired.

OOC: Dude. TOTAL bunnying about the finger. She lost it like two days ago during the rally, before she found the abandoned garage. It would've been cleaned up and thrown out, and even if it wasn't it'd be unrecognisable and too far gone to put back.

IC: The world was fuzzy. Someone was saying something. Her mouth felt like it'd been slept in, but on the bright side her arm and head hurt less. She tuned in to the conversation "-what do you have to say?"

She tried to sit up, accepting the offered drink. "Um." She croaked. W"ho are you people? I thought I saw... someone I recognised, from the rally... the rally!" Suddenly she sat up straight, everything coming back to her. "They'll be looking for me! This isn't a public hospital, is it?!" She cried, trying to get out of bed before being restrained.

When she calmed down and realised she was in a tent, she slumped back onto the bed. "I need some aspirin." She mumbled. "The world's gone crazy."

(OOC: Wow totally dude, two days, I thought it was only one, and it depends dude, ps don't say dude it makes you sound imiture, dude)
"Sorry all we carry is morphen, and I think that's a little too strong for you, but I'll see what I can find, and who was it your reconized? A freind, family member, boyfreind, girlfreind? If you can remeber their name maybe I can see to it that they are brought here."

(Fill in here)

The doctor then left on his serch for some asprin leaving her alone in the tent with a glass of water by the bed.

ooc: Really? Sorry, my timing was off. But either way, could you please edit and pretend the finger bit never happened? Because they aren't going to "retrace her steps" all the way to the rally area AND still find the finger just conveniently lying on the ground, maybe with a sign that says "Annelle's finger". They'd think she might have lost it recently, yes, and go back to check, but they wouldn't find anything in the woods or the nearest alleys and I really think they'd give up. She can live without a finger. PS: Dude. (:P sorry couldn't resist. I'm just using it till they make a really good eyebrow-raised emoticon.)

ic: "Um, no morphine, thanks. No, it was just a guy. Who I saw at the rally. I kind of knew his girlfriend - well I'd met her somewhere, I don't remember where. I said hello to her before the shooting started. She's... she's dead. I didn't know Chris at all, really."

Upon being left alone, she drank some water and then lay down. What the hell was going on? She didn't even know who these people were. They could be with the government, Chris or no Chris! Although they had patched up her wounds, it seemed. Her make-shift sling was gone, replaced by proper bandages, and there wasn't as much dried blood on her. She also appeared to have a rubber finger. She blinked, and wiggled her hand, wincing slightly. Well, at least it *looked* normal. She'd probably be able to write again, too - as for typing... She sighed, and decided to stay a while, see what was happening. Then maybe she'd get out of the country, like she was always telling herself she would.

(OOC: made it a prosthetic instead)

ooc: Done. Good enough.

A moment later the doc came in with Chris and some midol. "Sorry no one had any asprin all I could find was some midol, and you requested chris didn't you? Well here he is, I'll be back in a while."

(OOC: If you want to speak to chris you'll have to talk to gurg)

OOC: Someone totally new! Sorry I was gone... real life took over.

I'll finnish after dinner.

Annelle rolled her eyes. "I didn't ask for chris, I told you he was why I stepped out into the open, because I recognised him. I hope you're not in charge of interrogating people. Although a familiar face is welcome."

She turned to Chris. "I'm... sorry about Jill." She said awkwardly.

"I don't care who you did or did not ask for, I'm the doctor here, and I say a familiar face will help in your recovery, so don't make me strap you down, understand?" was what the doctor had to say to Annelle.

Annelle glanced at the doctor and raised an eyebrow at Chris. "Er... they have a lot of power freaks round here?"

The doctor said rythemicaly from the adjassiant room, "I can still hear you, and I have medical authority, the highest authority in this camp."

OOC: Apologies. It turned out that I had a load of homework, so I couldn't get online last night... anyway, I'm here now.
IC:
"Hi, Annelle," Chris said gently. "How are you feeling?" It came out sounding pretty stupid, of course she was feeling bad. In response to her question, he swiftly added to his earlier question. "Well, I think it's called natural authority. You should meet the Sergeant. She's the one that dragged you in here."
***********
Government Car
Registered: Urukku SFALAT Militia
Highway 30
Seraph frowned. She hated this sort of thing. Her guns and knives were in the back seat, and her only weapons were herself and the two glass knives in her boots which would more likely break than be terribly useful.
"Please put down the gun," Seraph said. Her voice was calm. It took more than the threat of death to rattle Seraph Kane. Though she did not dare turn around, the bounty huntress got the feeling that her captor was smiling.
"If you understand, Ms. Kane, I'd rather not. After all, we know very little, and you are a person of reknowned skill at killing people." Seraph didn't bother to point out that the two statements were contradictory, she simply waited until the car rolled into SFALAT headquarters.

The door opened, and she stepped out. She was greeted by the noses of a large number of automatic weapons. Seraph had never thought that she was quite this respected. From behind her, a darkly dressed man spoke, his voice was hypnotic.
"Take a good look, Seraph Kane, this will be your home for the next few weeks."

Seated in the briefing room with a pistol in her thigh holster and a dart gun in her forearm holster, she felt much better. The man who had brought her from the airport sat down across the table from her, his expensive suit contrasting with the poorly painted and furnished room. Yellow walls, steel table. Interrogation room.
"Ms. Kane, you were hired by the Holy Empire of Urukku to track down religious dissidents who have taken up arms against the Empire. You will be paid the agreed sum upon completion of the mission, plus 5,000 in United States Dollars in advance." Seraph nodded. "The money will be wired to your overseas accounts pending your acceptance of the mission. To brief you, I'll call in one of our people who is heavily involved in this matter."

He pressed a button on his side of the desk, and a moment later, the door opened. Out stepped a woman in her mid thirties, wearing a black and red uniform.
"Hello, Ms. Kane, I'm Captain Prithers. I will be briefing you on your mission, as well as being your controller here at SFALAT." Seraph smiled.
"Charmed." The bounty huntress' platitude went ignored.
"There is currently a rebellion in Urukku, which has seen a groundswell of support in the population after the passage of NARMO, with which I assume you to be familiar. Our spies have intercepted several reports of large numbers of young people gathering, then all dissipating into forests outside of Waverston. We suspect a rebel outpost is in the forests, but the USLM isn't stupid, nor does it have poor soldiers. The forests are guarded, and we lost a full platoon of soldiers in them last week alone." Seraph absorbed all of this silently. The captain continued stolidly. "You are to sneak into the woods, find the base and report back here. No radio signals, the USLM likely have the woods bugged to some extent. Find that base, Seraph Kane, and you get your cash. Do you accept"
Seraph smiled.
"Of course, Captain Prithers."

OOC: I won't be here for the next few days. Go on without me. Feel free to RP Chris as well, whoever's interacting with him at the moment. Please make sure that he's only in one place at once.
Bump

Anelle rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. And I'm grateful for the fix-up and all. But some people really do take their jobs too seriously." She bit her tongue and looked at Chris searchingly. "So... what are you doing here?"

Chris looked away. "I... you know Elaine's dead. I have to... I have to d something. I have to get back at the people who did this, and the people who allowed it to happen, and the people who are making a mess out of my country!"

Anelle shrugged. "Fair enough. Someone's gotta do it. I personally intend to get out of the country the first opportunity I get. Go somewhere my religion is a faith, not an excuse to persecute people. Sometimes I think God would be better off without churches."

Chris found he had nothing to say to that, so instead he said: "Well, you'll have to speak to the people in charge about getting out of the country. They'll probably want to give you an assignment or something." He glanced out the door to the adjacent room where the doctor was still busy with something. "Anyway, whatever it is will have to wait till your arm is better."

Annelle nodded and winced. "Not to mention my head," She said, putting a hand to it.

Jerole walked in on the two at the end of their conversation, "Chris, return to training, I need some time alone with our guest."

Chris the saluted and answered, "Yes, sir, as you say, sir." Chris then rushed out looking over his shoulder at Anelle.

"So, your doing better? Have you tried the prosthisis yet? ... Let's cut the chatter, I hear that your a spy, that you're a poor lost hiker, all I hear is gossip from those boy's and girls who would be troops, now tell me, who are you? How did you find this place? And above all, Why did you come here?" Jerole had one of the most serious looks on his face, a face that showed the urgencey of her answer.

Annelle snorted. "Poor lost hiker indeed - well, lost has something to be said for. And who, pray tell, do the rumours have me spying for?" Her mouth twitched in amusement. "Nevermind. I was in the rally, the one that got the 'lethal force' bit. Thanks for fixing me up - the prosthetic is fine, looks alright from a distance, and I'll probably be able to write again - although typing everything is sounding more and more attractive. Where am I, by the way? No-one's actually told me. Or is your location a secret? I it is, you really need some better sentries round the perimiter, I never bumped into one till I got to the firing range."

Annelle snorted. "Poor lost hiker indeed - well, lost has something to be said for. And who, pray tell, do the rumours have me spying for?" Her mouth twitched in amusement. "Nevermind. I was in the rally, the one that got the 'lethal force' bit. Thanks for fixing me up - the prosthetic is fine, looks alright from a distance, and I'll probably be able to write again - although typing everything is sounding more and more attractive. Where am I, by the way? No-one's actually told me. Or is your location a secret? I it is, you really need some better sentries round the perimiter, I never bumped into one till I got to the firing range."
"Who else, da millitary, don't thank me, thank Heriko, he's good wit dat stuff. Yes, da exact location of dis camp is a secret, but your in a trainin ground for da NLF, National Liberation Front. Da only group brave enough ta resist governmental tyranny. You didn't run inta sentries because there are none. We prefer patrols, and even den few of dem, after all da millitary is superstisious about dese hills. Now that I've answered your questions you answer mine, deal?" Jerole then took a seat near her bed, "First, what's your name? Second, what were you before da shootin? and Third, you single?" Jerole then chuckled to himself, "Don't mind my humor, I'm a bad commedian."

"Annelle Moran, journalist, you may have heard of my column - 'Who's Stupid This Week'. And you're right, you're not funny. Why are the military supestitious abou these hills?"

ooc: and where did the accent come from? argh my head.

"Wow, gotta watch dis one, she a bitter, hahaha, Yeah Ive read da colum, why you get fired, it was one of my favorites. Jerole then took a short pause before explaning the superstision, "Well, in one of da most qraphic war to hit da region, the millitary lost many men in did woods, to guerilla attacks, but dat's not da only reason, you see when the guerilla's attacked a patrol, first dey'd kill everybody, den dey'd skin em, and hang deir corpses to dry, it was a horrofying sight, a sight da millitary is not likely to repeat." He then looked away at a few recruits walking bye.

"Why does anyone get fired round here? The church felt threatened by it. Um... so do *you* guys do that whole, uh, skinning thing?"

"No ... not dat it hasn't come ta mind many a time, we're just too civilized." Jerole then gave her the darest look ever seen before, "But den again da enemy don't know dat, do dey? No I bet not, but den agian maybe we do, just on occasion." Jerole then shot her another look like before. "I was ex millitary, da sight I saw, was da most horrorfying scene imaginable, but I got over it, but da millitary didn't, dey still afraid of dese woods." Jerole then gave the wall a thousand yard stare, then returned his attention to her. "We're too civilized, huh, never thought dat would be da problem ... never." Jerloe then gave her a questioning look, "What you mean 'fired round here'?"

"This country!" Annelle exclaimed. "Come on, why are you here if you haven't noticed? The church is WAY outa line. Anyone they don't like - BOOM, gone. Anyone who speaks against them isn't allowed a position from which to speak. We should have gone for more separation of church and state - at this point the church basically IS the state, and there's a REASON why religion and politics souldn't mix. I'm getting out of here first chance I get, go somewhere church is about god, not self important pricks in robes."

She snorted and flopped back onto the bed. "Sorry if i'm ranting, if you read my column you'll be familiar with it. But, that brings me to my next point. Can your people get me out of the country?"

Jerole thought long and hard, "Yes, but why should they risk deir lives for you?"

Chris aimed his Kalashnikov at the target, a good several hundred yards away. He was laying prone on the grass, the dew of the morning soaking through his uniform. It was his third day of training, and his marksmanship was improving rapidly. He sighted, bumped the nose of his gun up a bit, then squeezed the trigger.

The gun sounded like a firecracker on steroids.

A hole appeared in the centre ring on his target.

He fired again.

Another hole, only an inch away from the first.

Chris began tightening down on the trigger for a third shot when he saw a shadow fall over him. He released the trigger and looked up, into the cold eyes of Sergeant Franken.

"Cadet Rasmusen, follow me." He stood, aprehensive. Two other cadets had been taken like this, he'd never seen them again. Franken started off towards a walled off area, with Chris in tow. As they passed through the gates, a large and well muscled guard barred his way. Franken gave the man a look promising horrifying retribution, and the guard moved to the side. She gestured for him to continue following her, and stalked off towards a locked case. She slipped a key into the lock, and swung the door of the case open. Inside were four scratched and dirty sniper rifles.

"Cadet, do you know what these are?" Franken's voice wasn't threatening, for almost the first time that he had met her.

"Yes'm. They're SV-98 sniper rifles, the type used by the SAFLAT." He sensed silent approval in the sergeant's eyes.

"Good to know that you can identify one, because it's being issued to you in place of your AK, cadet. You're to be trained to fire this weapon because of your high marksmanship counts." Chris couldn't help it. He smiled. It was a mistake.
"Honestly, cadet, you aren't nearly as good as to rate a sniper in an average army, but this is a rebel movement. We don't have any snipers, so you're going to be trained to use one of these. Try not to fuck it up." Chris winced.

OOC: In case none of you guessed from the above post, I'm-a back! Where's Urukku?

As Chris returned to the firing range with his newly issued SV-98 sniper rifle he was greeted by his freinds Darla, Derek, and Hikerio.

"Wow, dude, where'd you get that?" Was the first question out of Derek's mouth.

Hikerio answered instead, "Obiviously he has been issued it because of his high marks. Am I correct in my assumption?"

"Boys, does it matter who's gun is bigger then who's, all that matter is that our boy Chris here is a sniper, or sniper trainee. Guess what Chris, we've been given our bunking assignments, and guess who your sharing your tent with?" Darla began to playfully circle her index finger infront of Chris' chest.

"You get to bunk with us, isn't that fabulious? But boys I have a few reals, no peeping while I change, got that?" Darla couldn't help herself she just had to annex them on.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me somethin new for a change, like when we get put into our sqauds, then I'll be excited." was what Derek said.

"Well we have a sniper, a grunt, a demo expert, and an assassin, I say we do have an intreging group, no?" "So what's you take on this? was Hikerio's response.

"Yeah man, what you think?" said Derek impatiently.

Jerole thought long and hard, "Yes, but why should they risk deir lives for you?"

"Lives? Don't be ridiculous. A rebel organisation is bound to have fake identities to spare, and I don't even need a good quality one - just good enough to get me across the border. If, of course, we manage it before they decide to monitor travel even more than they probably do already. Look, who are you in this organisation? You can refer me to your boss, at least, and leave the decision to him."

Jerple closed his eyes, "When it comes to matters like dese, da commander tends to leave dese dings under my control, and as for fake ID's, won't do you no good. Do you know how tight dey got dose borders? Tighter den a well diggers crack, dats how tight. If you dink you can go drough dem, you wrong. Dey check DNA, eretna scans, every ding. So I can't risk it, you understand." "If you get caught, dey make you talk, you talk bout dis camp, den da rebelion over, go it? So I can't let you go." Jerole said without opening his eyes, till the very end.

Chris grinned, adjusting his rifle.

"I can think of worse bunking assignments. If the top bunk isn't taken, I'll go there. And speaking of snipers, yours has been issued a captured gun, and it's been through hell. It needs oil. Anyone got some?" Hikiero produced some from a pocket.

"Thanks." Chris sat on a log, pulled his handkercheif out of his hip pocket and started oiling the bolt.

"Seems odd, having women and men bunk together in a base. I can understand it in field conditions, but, here?"

Darla gave Chris one of the most peculiar looks, "What are you stupid? These are 'battle feild' conditions, there ain't no bunks, just sleeping bags for us grunts, and the cold hard ground to rest our heads on." Darla then began to rub up next to Chris, "What do you expect two soldiers to do? Sleep?" Darla then began to laugh uncontrolabley as she steped away from Chris. "After all all we get to keep ourselves warm, is our thin sleeping bag, how else do you expect a man and a woman to keep warm." Darla then winked at Chris and began walking off into the distance. She then departed saying, "Chow, darlings." then laughed aloud to herself again.

"She's a strange one, ain't she?" asked Derek. "But she's right, all we get are sleeping bags for now, I hear that when you distenguish yourself, you get a hammock." Derek then slapped Chris on the back and walked in the opposite direction as Darla. "Good, luck, Snipe."

"You know, he realy likes her, but he's afraid to ask her." stated Hikiero. "After all they grew up in the same town until they both came here for school. Before they found out, ... I probably should hold my tounge, no?"

Jerple closed his eyes, "When it comes to matters like dese, da commander tends to leave dese dings under my control, and as for fake ID's, won't do you no good. Do you know how tight dey got dose borders? Tighter den a well diggers crack, dats how tight. If you dink you can go drough dem, you wrong. Dey check DNA, eretna scans, every ding. So I can't risk it, you understand." "If you get caught, dey make you talk, you talk bout dis camp, den da rebelion over, go it? So I can't let you go." Jerole said without opening his eyes, till the very end.

Annelle snorted. Suddenly she was right in his face and glaring like... like a thing which glares very, very fiercely. "Don't bullshit me. You expect me to believe you people are confined solely to our borders? You haven't got a foreign nation helping you out because they don't like the government we have now? Who's supplying all these fancy weapons and equipment, huh? You've got a link to the outside somewhere, and I don't care if I have to smuggle things across the border for you but i'm GETTING across the border, dammit!"


ooc: I can arrange for Resquide to be the country secretly providing you with weapons, and Annelle can be, oh, a liaison or something, or just join a convoy or something in order to introduce other characters and then apply for refugee status in Resquide, or whatever. and dammit, next time can she talk to someone without that accent? I have a headache and it isn't helping.

(OOC: OK you supply, and no you will suffer.)

Jerole looked her dead in the eye and answered, "Yes, we are totally confined widin da borders. But if I told you dat It'd be a lie, trud be told, I don't know who our funder is, trud is I don't care, all I know is dat if I smuggle you out, I run da risk of cutting da supply lines, now eider you got to be word da risk, or have a clever plan to smuggle yourself out. Now what possably could you offer me dat is word da risk, huh, I'm waiting?" Jerole took a defensive posture and waited.

Annelle gave him a contemptuous look. "My boss les me handle dis stuff," she mimicke, exaggerating his accent. "Look at me, I'm imporden. I don't know shit about what's goin down, bud I can damn well smarm at someone who's got no choice in da madda." She jabbed a finger in his face. "You have an outside funder, you have to meet them to get funding. QED. You find me someone who knows what he's doing. You've gotta at least have some of their people here or some of your people there, or both, to facilitate discussion. I can join them, I have perspective to offer." She leaned back again, leaving the next move to him.

Jerole shruged, "I don't dink you'd want to meet de sargent, so ... you show me yours and I'll show you mine, huh?"

Chris smiled, his first genuine one since his girlfriend had died at the riot.

"He'll get around to it, if he's serious enough. I hope he has the good luck." Chris checked his watch, one of the few posessions that he had kept after joining the rebellion. It was getting late. "Hey, Hikiero? Wanna get dinner at the mess tent? It's getting pretty late."

Hikiero shrugged and answered, "Sure, you think they're still serving this late? If not we can allways raid the pantry." Hikiero then followed Chris to the mess tent.

Jerole shruged, "I don't dink you'd want to meet de sargent, so ... you show me yours and I'll show you mine, huh?"

"Why don't I want to meet the seargent? You're stalling," she said suspiciously, "What's the matter? And," she glanced at her watch, "when can I eat. I'm perfectly capable of walking by now, i reckon."

"Huh, personally she a bitch, as for lunch, sure if you don't mind an escort, for security reasons, mind you and me." Jerole then offered his arm to Annelle. "Do you mind old stale millitary rations? It's a joke, beleive or not we eat pretty good."

Annelle glared at him. "You ARE stalling. What the hell is going on here? Take me to the sargeant immediately!"

"Ok, if you think dats best?" Jerole then led her to the weight room, and in the middle of the room was a young woman using the bench, "Der she is, I ain't gonna stop you, but ... don't dink you gonna get no where." Jerole then walked off, but before he was out of sight he shouted, "Offer still open?"

Annelle walked up to the woman on the bench. "Hi, I'm Annelle." She said. "You probably know the circumstances surrounding my stay here, Jerole tells me you're his boss. Are you busy right now?"

(ooc: I wonder if Urukku is ever coming back, so someone can save my poor pagans. If he doesn't show up soon, I might be tempted to just continue playing them... Ach, tomorrow I'll post something.)

The Sargent took one look at her and scoffed, "Jerole can deal with his own crap, and I ain't his supperior, he's mine, Major Jerole's his name, got that ... little girl? I ain't got time to waste on a case like you." Fraken then walked over to the weights and began doing arm curls.

Annelle looked taken aback. "What?! He told me you were his superior officer! That's... ah, sorry." With that she turned and ran back after Jerole, trying not to jar the arm in the sling.

"Listen, you self-important jackass," she hissed, grabbing his shoulder with her left hand. "What do you think you are doing? I want straight answers or I'll get out of here and take my own chances with the border! For all i know I haven't even been marked as being at the rally!"

"First, never did I say Sargent Franken was my superior, second, if you try to escape, we kill you. My superior, is back at de main base, at a secret location. I'm incharge here, no one else. So how bout some grub?" Jerole began to walk off towards the mess tent, "Also, if you were der, dey know, dey allways know, den if dey find you ... you better off dead." Jerole the walked into the tent.

OOC: Schwaa? Where's my last post? Fine, then. I'll type it again.

Chris and Hikiero's dinner was mediocre, and indeed fairly good for battlefield conditions like those at the base. The high-protein stew they ate was full of unrecognizable but otherwise edible lumps, and the mashed potatoes were only slightly too creamy. The two squadmates talked of their reasons for joining up, and the sun finally fell below the horizon. As Chris, the slower eater, spooned the last meaty lump into his mouth, the two stood and cleaned out their tin messkits in the dish cleaning tub.

Hikiero, the one more familiar with the camp, led the way to the place designated for their squad to sleep. It was under a large spruce tree, and as the two neared they saw Darla and Derek, both already having set up their sleeping equipment.

"Hi there," Chris said, unrolling his bedroll. Darla was right, he thought, the material was thin. The bedroll unrolled, he bundled up his jacket and placed it at the open end, hoping that it would serve as a pillow. He looked at Derek and Darla, and noticed that they had several small piles of cards in front of them. Darla had a decent sized pile of cash, too, while Derek's was a good deal smaller. "Trying to gamble Derek out of cash there, Darla?"

Darla answered, "Yep, and his pants too." Darla then let out a chuckle, "So 'Snipe' you wanna join us?" Darla then looked at Hikiero, "How bout you, Hiki?"

Hikiero answered bluntly, "Ive learned my lesson, and besides it's not like you haven't seen my 'equipment' before. I plan to fall asleep and stay that way, till dawn." Hikiero then rolled onver on his side and began to snore.

"So Chris, you wan't in or what?" Darla said with a wink.

OOC: Where the fuck is Urukku?
"Strip poker? Sure, why not." Chris had always been a good player, with a keen sense for when he was being bluffed. He sat down, watched Darla take another hand, then waited to be dealt in. The cards appeared a moment later, courtesy of Derek, now down to a T-Shirt and pants.

***
Forest,
2100 Hours
Seraph Kane crept along the ground, night vision goggles over her eyes. She was dressed in a matte green/brown/black catsuit made from a material that dissipated heat rather nicely. she carried a small silenced pistol, with the rest of her gear in the pack she wore on her back.

She'd been travelling for hours, following a group of people that she assumed to be recruits. They had long passed out of visual range, but they were leaving tracks. Perhaps not good ones, but they would do for her. Seraph continued her nearly silent passage through the foliage.

The trees began to thin, giving way to shrubs and thick, twiggy vegetation. Seraph couldn't see the camp yet, but she knew from the tracks and the thinning vegetation that it should be close. She knelt and unslung a silenced rifle, replacing her pistol in the pack. She continued on, hearing what she thought were voices, the muffled laughter of troops at ease.

Derek said with dismay, "It's not strip poker, but the way I've been losing it might as well be." "Ok, ace's high, 2's are wild, and hold em'." Derek than shuffled the cards and dealt them. "Ok, thow in you bets and lets begin.

Derek had a nive two pair, but Darla had a royal flush, and the only thing that could win the game was the ever elusive full house.

"Come on boys, why don't we make this a little more interesting, how bout the next person to lose, puts everything into the pot, money, possesions, clothes. Huh? so what do you two boys say?" Darla said with a dirty smirk on her face as she chewed on an old cigar.

"First, never did I say Sargent Franken was my superior, second, if you try to escape, we kill you. My superior, is back at de main base, at a secret location. I'm incharge here, no one else. So how bout some grub?" Jerole began to walk off towards the mess tent, "Also, if you were der, dey know, dey allways know, den if dey find you ... you better off dead." Jerole the walked into the tent.

Annelle gaped at him for a while, and thought of quoting his words, but realised that from his behaviour so far, he was unlikely to be helpful. Best to just go along? She forcibly calmed down and followed him into the mess tent. As they sat down she looked directly at him and said: "Alright. I'm seeing some inconsistencies here. Can you please tell me why you are being so obtuse? I'm a prisoner, I guess I've gathered that. Sure hope you've got a strategy that ends up with someone in charge other than the people who get rid of the opressors, cus as far as I can see this rebellion's headed the same way as every other one I've ever heard of, whether it succeeds or not. I offered to help you. You changed the subject. I asked for help, you did the same. What is it you want from me?"


ooc: Look, mate, if you're going to block me I'll bloody well RP elsewhere. If you have a particular goal for this section of RP you've got to let the other people KNOW about it, instead of just manifesting it through a character that won't let it go any other way. Tell me what you're heading for so I can actually work with you on it instead of just getting tugged along like Annelle.

As Jerole sat down and began to eat he answered her qeustions. "Because if you had to watch your family die at de hands of dose monsters, if you ever had to see the eyes of your daughter and wife, whell up wid fear, panic, and pain as dey were raped, tortured, and killed, for de sick amusement of dose bastards, you'd be obtuse too! Not to mention de perverted dings dey did with deir bodies after dey were dead ... Jerole then stoped abruptly, and looked like he was about to cry, when his voice became soft, "De movement needs your journalist skills, dat's all. And you're only a prisioner if you try to leave widout our permission." "We need you to film every dirty little ding de government does, and give it to us, we den give it to our funders, and dey show it on de news, dus bringing in more support from de outside, and inside." Jerole then resumed eating.

Annelle was silent for a full minute, mentally going over Jerole's speech and compartmentalising it the way she was used to doing while listening to politicians. A bunch of personal information unrelated to the topic and obviously inserted for emotional sway, a pointless catch-phrase or two, and not an adequate explanation, but at least he'd old her precisely what they needed from her. Now she had something to maneouvre with.

"Alright," she said finally. "I'll give you a month - wait, no. I'll do my own expose, something I'd have wanted to do anyway, but I never had the resources. Give me what you've got so far, get me to a few key locations with a camera and a tape recorder, plant a few bugs in the appropriate places - I'll put it all together into something the world CAN'T ignore."

She leaned back and grinned at him. "And then you will put me in the group that gets this stuff out of the country. Tha's the deal I'm offering you. If you like I'll also do the talk show run so people don't forget this - I know how to spin words well enough for that. I'm sure people will wat to ask me questions, and since I actually belong to the religion that's doing all the damage I'll be able to show what they've done to the christian faith for the sake of power - well, pretty much what they did to your family. I'm sorry about that, by the way, but I'd think some-one like you would've learned by now not to let their emotions influence their work."

Jerole was glad to hear her response, "Never knew it'd be dis easy to get your help. You got what we have, and also for support, I give you Darla's crew, If you're done eatin I'll take you to der tents, and get one of dem to get you a bag." But Jerole's eyes still betrayed the hurt he felt from telling his story. "After all, you work wid dem, you live wid dem."

Jerole chuckled, "You drive a hard bargain, but de ones who smuggle stuff in will be de same ones who smuggle out. But once your, 'Exposay' is done wid, I see no problem in smuggling you out too, through dem, of course."

Jerole's eyes went cold again, "It's all I got left."

Chris nearly died from laughter. He had it. A Royal Flush. Nothing could get him now. So hard, oh so hard, to keep the same dirty smirk Darla wore off his own face.

"Yeah, why not. I'm in."

**********

Seraph crept, catlike through the long grass. The foliage was far behind now, with only tall, thick grass between her and the bullets of the rebels. She reflected, for a moment, that most people would be terrified right now. A whole regiment's worth of firepower, staring down her back if she made too loud a noise.

She crouched, unscrewing the sight from her rifle and putting it to her eye. The camp was big, and well organized. Take on a nation? Probably not. But they looked like they could put up enough of a fight to stir up international interest.

Seraph dialed up the magnification of her sight. The weapons that she could see looked well cared for, if not top of the line. Most troops carried the reliable AK-47, but several other weapons were in evidence. M-4 Carbines, M-16A2 Assault Rifles and HK-MP5 SDs were popular among what appeared to be the elite corps.

Troops sat around, talking, laughing or sleeping. At least two were making love behind some bushes, while another group of three were playing a raucous game of cards. Morale was high, and it seemed clear that these ragtag rebels represented a clear and present danger to Urukku. Seraph slipped back into the bushes, checking her goggle mounted GPS for latitude and longitude readings. She crept through the forest, mentally organizing the report that she would make to Captain Prithers once this was all over.

Annelle raised an eyebrow - this was ridiculous. Perhaps he was letting go on purpose to get an emotional response from her? Oh well, she thought, at least I know why he was giving me the run around - he didn't think I'd agree.

They finished eating and walked to the tent, from which sounds were emerging like people having... fun.

Annelle looked at Jerole with a smirk. "You normally let your teams party on the job?"

"OK, your in, how bout you Derek?"

"I'm out, you've already seen me naked, so there ain't nothing to prove." Derek than walked over to the tents and got into his sleeping bag.

"OK, Snipe, it seems we're the only two left, no put em in, hehe." Darla and Chris revealed their hands to show that they both had royal flushes, but that Darla, had the lower one. "Uh, No fucking way, how'd you pull that off?" Darla was more than shocked to see his hand, she was terrified, after three years of playing the game she was outdone ... and by a guy, who would have figured.

"Oh, well there goes my perfect record, sigh." Darla began removing her clothes until she was done to her panties and her bra. "You, know, you're the first guy to see me naked, hmm, you feel proud of yourself? Or something?" She finally removed the rest of her clothes and remarked, "So now that you got me naked what you going to do 'big boy'?" She said leaning over the cash on all fours, and only inches from his face.
__

"Yeah, it keeps dem in high spirits, and after all we're all only human." As Jerole walked over the hill he saw Darla in a compromising position before Chris, and had to laugh.

Chris leaned back, a little surprised. Then, over Darla's shoulder, he saw Jerole and the other woman coming over the hill.

Oh, shit. He thought, turning a deep shade of red.

"Not much, I'm afraid," Chris said sheepishly. "And on that note, you might want to grab your clothes." Darla raised her eyebrows at this somewhat passive response, then noticed that Chris wasn't staring at her, but at something behind her.

Chris flushed under Jerole's mocking look, and transferred his gaze to Annelle. This proved an interesting experience too, as the young woman was gaping like a fish. She looked as though she was partially outraged, a bit amused and very surprised.

"Ag. Hi." Was all that Sniper Cadet Chris Rasmusen could manage.

"So Darla, finally lost a bet I take it? I told you one of dese day's a young upstart would put you in your place. Didn't I?"

Darla merely turned around revealing all her female features as if it was the most natural thing on earth, "Yep, lost fair and square, and I'm kind of disappointed that Chris here doesn't want to take advantage of me. I think you two scared him."

"Yeah, well got news for you, your team is now our battlefield journalist squad. Your job is to guide and protect dis young lady in combat as she gains material to increase international interest in our movement." "And you might want to get dressed, I dink dat your freakin her out."

"Oh, sorry, hehe, huh, where are my clothes now?" Darla began putting her clothes on in a hurry and when she was dressed she turned to listen to Jerole.

"Hey, Chris, you do know you shouldn't make a beautiful young woman like Darla beg, you do know dats just wrong. I see dat de oders are asleep, so Chris you go get a sleeping bag, and coat for Miss Annelle. Dats an order and ... lesson."

Annelle sniggered, picking up a shirt that was hanging on a tent-pole near her. "This yours?" She said, holding it out to Darla. "From what I've just heard it sounds like you've been wanting someone to beat you for a long time," she grinned, turning to Jerole. "...okay, no more jokes. When do we get on the field, boss man?"

"Tommorw morning, It's too late right now, and you'll need time to get affiliated with your team. Also half your team's asleep so they must be tired, once Chris gets back with the bag and coat, trust me you'll need bod. You will camp with dem. And in de morning I'll give you an assignment, or night, which ever offers de best possobility." Jerole than walked off wishing them all the best of luck.

Annelle nodded assent and entered the tent she'd been shown too. Well, at least she was being a journalist again, and without compromising her ideals, either. She sighed and sat down with her head in her hands, wincing as her various aches and pains made themselves known again. It had been a long few days.

As Darla steped into the tent she began to talk to Annelle, "So you going to tell me why you got assigned my sqaud?"

"You? No idea. I got shot, rescued and patched up and then offered a job - you guys just come with the package. Of course there's no way I can go round digging up incriminating evidence without protection."

ooc: oooh, deleted posts. I haven't been round for a while - did someone narrowly avert a flame war? :P

Darla looked Annelle over and thought to herself, 'Damn, she's pretty damn hot.' Darla than looked at the guys, 'They're going to want an explanation.' She than turned back to Annelle, "You're not telling me something, about this little arrangement or ours, are you?"

(OOC: No, just a DP, not sure about Res though.)

"Arrangement? What arrangement?"


ooc: WTF? That entire post was incomprehensible. (if you're trying for some 'hot lesbian action', get stuffed)

(OCC: OK, ' ' were thought posts, and no, Darla's not a lesbian, nor does she want to fuck Anne, she just has random thoughts from time to time, it's a charachter fault.)

IC:
Darla wanted to hit Anne in the head but thought it wiser not to, "The arrangement you made with Jerole, of course, so you going to tell me? Or do you have to watch your own back?" Darla than leaned to one side than the other, "Because I don't trust those who keep secrets."

"Oh, right. I don't really think of it as an arrangement. We're working towards common goals - he felt like jerking me around a bit before letting me know that, that's his problem. I'm doig an expose on our corrupt government system. Then I'll smuggle it out to this as-yet un-named sponsor country you have, and stay there."

Darla couldn't help but laugh, "So did you like him jerking you off?" she began to laugh with her joke, as she caught her breathe, she spoke, "Sorry for the crude joke it's just how you said it, that's all." She listened and answered, "Hmm, does make strategic sense, we could uses profesional help, I beleive."

Darla then looked away as she heared a sound off in the distance. "Did you hear that?"

I think that I'll skip out on the rest of this RP, seeing as it's going nowhere. I don't really just want to keep gravedigging a dead thread to increase my postcount, and I frankly have better things to do.

You can RP my characters, (those being Chris and Seraph) if you want to, but keep Seraph alive. She's a recurring character that I might need again.

Cheers,
Gurguvungunit

Darla couldn't help but laugh, "So did you like him jerking you off?" she began to laugh with her joke, as she caught her breathe, she spoke, "Sorry for the crude joke it's just how you said it, that's all." She listened and answered, "Hmm, does make strategic sense, we could uses profesional help, I beleive."

Darla then looked away as she heared a sound off in the distance. "Did you hear that?"

Annelle frowned and tried to listen. "What?" She said after a while. "I can't hear anything..."


ooc: sorry I've been away for a bit. I've been doing an undercover expose on the Australian medical system :P

I said, "So did you like him jerking you off?" she continued, "Sorry for the crude joke it's just how you said it, that's all." she continued, "Hmm, does make strategic sense, we could uses profesional help, I beleive."

And I said, "Did you hear that?"

... ... ...

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Look, alright! "I can't hear anything" was in reply to "Did you hear that?", alright? Does that make any kind of SENSE around here?

Argh! *bashes head against wall*

Darla then looked away as she heared a sound off in the distance. "Did you hear that?"
"Wait, yeah, there was a noise... what was it?" Annelle asked, frowning.


ooc: uh, yeah, sorry bout the whole making fun of errors thing :P it was just... so damn funny. Sorry. Anyway. Continue.

As Darla stared off at the source, she noded, "I don't know, it ain't Chris, or the other two so ... I don't know." Darla continue to stare off at it unsure and uneasy about the situation.

Annelle frowned and stepped out of the tent, trying to figure out what the noise had sounded like...


ooc: Dunno where you're heading with this, but I got *another* instance of something like this so is it okay to assume Annelle got out with the video even though we haven't RPed it yet? Cos stuff will take a while to set up, and we can finish RPing this meanwhile.

The thing I'm referring to is here: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=398850

(Seraph, and nice thread)

Darla steped out with her side arm and asked, "Do you think we should investigate?" Darla then stepped foward and leveled her fire arm and waited for another sound, or Annelle's response.

"Uh..." said Annelle worriedly, "Don't you think that's a it... drastic? I mean, it's not like we're in the middle of enemy territory here or something - we don't even know what it was."

ooc: what's Seraph mean?

(The mercanary, Seraph, hired to find us.)

Darla looked at and reached between her thighs and drew a smaller hidden hand gun, she then tossed it to Annelle who caught it clumsily, "Never know, they might have mercs lookin for us, after all they don't have the fear of these forests like they do."

ooc: oooh, right, sorry. Um... wait, so they're... already on the mission? When did that happen? :P Anyway, is it okay to go ahead with that other thread on the assumption that Annelle got out with the video? Because I'm guessing you want that to happen anyway, and the intervening RP could take a while, with my erratic online-times.

ic: Annelle examined the pistol - it didn't look particularly complex, so she cocked it and looked around the clearing. "Yeah, that's a good point." Then it occurred to her that by talking she'd mask the sounds of anyone, say, lurking in the bushes, so she shut up and waited to see what Darla would do next.

(The mission you report happens after we catch her)

As Darla slowly and silently made her way into the underbrush she stalked the shadows, and shadowed the trunks of trees. As she made her way she heard the voices of those in camp and the breathing of the guys back in the tent, she so wished she was asleep with them.

She slowly drew her knife in her free hand and crept silently through the creek bed, there she signaled Annelle to stop moving and to hide the weapon. As she made her way around the bend and past a fallen tree she began to hear the mechanized equipment of a professional.

She moved as close as she could without startling them, him, her. She saw her, a young woman, older then herself and weighed down with equipment but, well hidden. She readied her weapons and crept further behind the target, then she acted.

Seizing the innitiative she ran up behind the mark and placed the blade to her throat, and the hand gun to the small of her back. She then ordered her, "Drop the rifle and stand up."

(just answer the damn question, I'm keeping someone waiting)

Annelle crept after Darla, wondering why they hadn't just gone to the people guarding the camp. But hey, she wasn't a soldier, she'd just go along and see what happened. Trying to keep as quiet as possible, she concentrated on keeping a safe distance behind Darla, and as such didn't notice the woman until Darla jumped her. At this Annelle quickly ducked back behind a tree, hoping she hadn't revealed herself. If things went wrong, she'd be the trump card...

(No, chrologically speaking the mission happens a couple days after this, but given that's quite some time, we skip it, so we do this then a mission chronologiaclly after that one. You play Seraph)

"Answer me, who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?" In the short time Darla found Seraph she had her tied up and inncompasitated. "Answer my questions, now!" Darla kicked her hard in her right kidney. "So you don't want to talk is that it? Answer me!"

(Argh. LISTEN. Lol, sorry, I must have not explained this properly: that other thrread I linked to. In order to go ahead with it, I need to assume that Annelle has ALREADY left your country with the video. I need your permission to do this. We can still RP the thing, because, well, screw chronological order :P but I need to have the video NOW. Is this okay?)


Seraph gasped stiffened, trying to remember her training and ignore the pain. "You won't get anything out of me. And if you kill me - they'll know something's up here and come looking in force."

(Sure)

"Then it seems we get to play, now stand up, and walk. You were sent to see the base, so the base you shall see!"

Darla then hauled Seraph to her feet and shoved her angerly toward camp, when she noticed Annelle was in the bushes, she called out to her, "Annelle, get out of the bushes and get over here."

Annelle hesitated to come out of the bushes... surely if an assasin, or a spy at least, had gotten this close to the base, she wouldn't give up without a fight?

Just as she decided Darla knew best and began to step out, Seraph took the miniscule chance offered by her captors distraction. She twisted, managing to get partly out of Darla's grip, and went for one of her numerous weapons.

At this point, any number of things could have happened. Darla could have recaptured her, Annelle could have remembered that she was holding a weapon and fired, or Seraph could have seriously injured Darla and escaped to return with her information.

Unfortunately for Seraph, in concentrating on finding an opening to escape, she had neglected to properly observe her environment, which at this moment involved, in the following sequence: Annelle's foot, a tree, pain, blackness.

Annelle stood there in puzzlement. "Uh..." she said. "I'm... almost entirely certain that was an accident. Oh well." She shrugged at Darla. "The girl was right, you know. You can't kill her or they'll know there is something here worth killing for. I assume you have an adequate supply of drugs? Amnesia will do the trick. She hasn't a mark on her at the moment - if we seethat it stays that way, they'll think she simply walked into a tree - which she did. Either way, we'd better get going pretty soon if they're already suspicious enough to send mercs after us. Here, I'll help you tie her up."

Darla smiled, and put her boot into Seraph's back, "Tie up tight. And I was just about to congradulate you, on a precise placement of your foot. Oh well, once you got her tied up we'll take her to camp and deal with her there."

When Anelle suggested that they let the merc live, and even give her meds, she gave her a look like she was stupid or something, "What, waist good drugs on a milliatary dog, when a sufficent blow to the head will do the trick. You don't understand, in all the raids I've seen, never have we had the possobility, to both send a message, and punish the dogs of our enemy. There's little chance anyone will let her off the hook, with a few little bumps. No, they'll want blood, and so do I! I don't expect you to understand my anger and hatred, but let me tell you this, if you stand in the way of my payback, then it'll be you who feels the pain, got it?"

Darla then bent down, with her boot still in the middle of Seraphs back and helped tighten the ropes, "Now that we got her finished off, lets go. And you can give me the gun back now. Hate to tell you, but it wasn't even loaded, sorry. He he."

Annelle kept a straight face and tied the knots. She'd been taught by a boy-scout boyfriend in her adolescence, so she judged they'd be good enough to get back to camp. She offered to help carry the spy, but Darla seemed to derive a savage pleasure from seeing her head bounce on tree roots.

As they walked back to the camp, Annelle started to wonder what she'd gotten herself into. She had rational, political reasons for what she was doing - well mostly, anyway. Whereas the only member of her own team she had so far met appeared to be operating mostly on emotion, and apparantly had the political sense of a rottweiler. She sighed, and kept walking.

When they got back to camp with the prisoner she turned to Darla and said: "So whose pot do we deliver this chicken to?"

"Jerole, who else? Chances are he'll want to have a meeting of the higher ups, on what to do. So I foresee her getting what she deserves. But that'll take a while, for sure. So we should hurry up."

A Darla made sure she went over ever last root, she speed up to reach the base quickly.

Annelle sighed in relief and sped up to keep pace with Darla. Jerole, at least, had to have some kind of knowledge of tactics, being a leader and all. She'd have to talk to him about her mission, too.

Pretty soon they were in the camp. Annelle tried hard not to snigger at the sleepy sentries who jerked upright and then dropped their jaws at the sight. She thought to herself that these people were definitely not used to rebellion. She'd never paid much attention to Urukku's history, but she was sure they hadn't had a revolution recently enough for people to have experience.

Darla was merciful enough to leave the captive, who by now was unconscious, with the sentries at the door. When Darla walked in unannounched Jerole knew something was up.

Jerole had had a mound of paper work when they walked in but just as quickly as they had entered it had vanished. And Jerole sitting behind is desk made gesture for the ladies to sit down. "So I take it dis ain't a social call, were you beg me to take de bod of you? Any who, what's up, from what I hear from de grapvine I hear you captured a spy. Is that true?"

(ooc: the only thing faster than light is the grapevine o_O :P)

Annelle sighed. "Yes, and before Darla says anything I'd just like to say that I've got some issues with the treatment of the prisoner. For one thing, it's unprofessional to take out your anger on a mercenary who's probably only doing her job - save it for the government. Also, the people who sent her will NOTICE if she doesn't come back - right now they're only suspicious of this area by default, because it's unknown. If a spy disappears here they'll KNOW something's up. As far as I can see your only option is to find a drug that causes amnesia, give it to her and dump her at the bottom of the cliff so it looks like she fell."

...Uh? Hello? Why did this thread die?

(Sorry I've been out)

(ooc: the only thing faster than light is the grapevine o_O :P)

Annelle sighed. "Yes, and before Darla says anything I'd just like to say that I've got some issues with the treatment of the prisoner. For one thing, it's unprofessional to take out your anger on a mercenary who's probably only doing her job - save it for the government. Also, the people who sent her will NOTICE if she doesn't come back - right now they're only suspicious of this area by default, because it's unknown. If a spy disappears here they'll KNOW something's up. As far as I can see your only option is to find a drug that causes amnesia, give it to her and dump her at the bottom of the cliff so it looks like she fell."

"Yes, but then the government tests her blood and finds someone drugged her then the send a divsion of assault troops through here. Or worse, she recovers her memory and tells the location of the camp, then they nuke us." Darla looked back at Annelle, "You see we have to keep her captive, because it they don't have her they can't question her, therefore they have to waste their time looking through parts of the forest where we aren't, giving us ... time to relocate and hide our presence."

Annelle shrugged. "You're the boss. You don't have to consider new ideas if you don't want to. But theres one thing you haven't told me - and that's who the boss will be on my mission." She jabbed a thumb at her chest. "I'm the one who's getting the info - your troops are for my protection. I don't want to be ordered around."

"You're in charge of the mission, but we're in charge of your saftey, we get the last word. If the shot is to dangerous, then we drag you back kicking and screaming." Darla walked throught the tent flap.

Annelle pursed her lips. "Fine. But I expect a detailed account of what exactly is considered too dangerous - and I'd quite like to be able to discuss dangers with my team instead of just going ahead and then getting pulled back. Aside froim that I've got no problems. When do we start?"

"At sun up, we don't have to worry about the prisoner any more she's in relitively safe hands now." Darla walked outside and towards their small camp, "As for now," Darla said yawning, "We sleep, and get to know each other ... intimately," Darla said with a chuckle.

Annelles eyebrow twitched for a moment. Then she grinned humorously. "Now now, what did I say about the Hott lesbian action? Or rather lack thereof. Come along, lets go exchange life stories." She snorted with laughter and started back to the tent, not waiting to see if Darla was following.

Darla smiled adn pushed Annelle, "Get you mind out of the gutter. I wasn't refering to that, I was refering to the fact that we will be sharing a room, with our comrades. So you better learn that one of them snores and the other kicks in his sleep."

"Yeah, i know, i was joking," Annelle said, starting to walk towards the tent. "Note the remark about life stories. Are these others the ones you were playing strip poker with when i first got there?"

Darla answered her question with a laugh, "Yep, the same ones indeed. I don't know their childhoods but their teen years are only behind them. But I doubt you want to know about our pathetic lives."

Annelle shrugged. "I became a journalist because of my curiosity. It hasn't gone away. But anyway, nevermind," she glanced at her watch, "if we're setting out tomorrow we should get a good nights sleep."

"Agreed." Darla took off her boots and slipped her pants off as she settled into her sleeping bag, where she began to snuggle with Chris, who was allready fast asleep.

Annelle raised an eyebrow and rolled out her own sleping bag. "Damn vigilantes. We need a military force to beat the government." She muttered, before falling asleep.

The next morning, she awoke groggily, avoided looking at the tangled mess of limbs that was Chris and Annelle and went outside to splash some water on her face.

Darla woke up next stretching out like a young lioness she raised her hands above her head and slowly brought her hands to her torso and slid them down herself in some sensual fashion to revive her sleeping brain. With one last yawn and the final inch of her hands journey across the nude landscape that was her body she got on all fours and crawled out of the tent like a tigress ready for a days hunt, she then stood and walk over beside a tree and releived her self as she stooped below it's dark green canopy. "Do you wake up this early all the time? Or is today just special?" Darla asked Anelle as she finished up.

((ooc: *wince* good god that's awful. Are you satirising cheap pornographic novels or something? Or are you practicing to write your own? Nevermind. Can we just get on with this? I want to get Annelle out of the country so I can use her in something productive.))

Annelle looked up at the sky. "Hey, it is pretty early. Oh well. I guess I'm just, raring to go!" She sniggered. "Have a good night?"

(You do know that you don't have to finish one thread to go to the next, right? And besides it's good have discriptive imaging.)

"Yes, but you kept kicking me for some reason, were you having a bad dream or were you just letting out some of your repressed anger?" Darla said with a snicker.

"Better get dressed before the boys wake up, never know how they react around ladies like us, and I do use that saying sparingly on myself." Darla said reaching into her bag and pulling out a fresh set of close. Slowly she began to dress all the way from her panties finallay putting on her olive drab sleaveless top.

It was about that time the boys started to wake up at first Michael then Tanaka (Can't remember his name, oh well), and finally when it came to waking Chris Darla crawled back into the tent and hung above his whispering in his ear, "Time to wake up sun shine, and fight the good fight, now up and Adam before I wake up your little soilder, then you" She said playfully messing with him.

((... ... ...owwww. Okay, dude - descriptive imagery does not mean putting two references to two different feline species in one paragraph, and the words "nude landscape that was her body" kill brain much. I don't have to finish this thread, that's true, but it'll mean a gap in her backstory that I won't be able to fill by making things up as long as this is running. I don't really care about that though, I don't really need her yet. I'm just wondering why no guy on Nationstates can bloody well RP a realistic woman who isn't a cheap JBS.))

When everyone is up and ready, they set off, Annelle keeping back and arranging her notebooks and video camera. "How far away are we from where we need to go, anyway? How are we getting there?"

(Sumimasan oh great and powerfull master, Darla's not a cheap JBS, what's a JBS? And I can and do, I just wanted Darla to be like that because of her background.)

Michael spoke up to answer her, "I'll take your last question first and your first question last. To begin with, our little trek begins with a nice march, followed by another nice march, then finished up with a vehicle droping us off at a safe location, to march back to camp. And as for your first question, about five miles to say the least." Michael said with a smartallik tone leading the way.

While Tanaka in the rear called out, "It's four and three quarters of a mile, not five, but that is still a long march for some one not prepared." Tanaka added keeping to the van.

Darla then looked over at Anelle, and asked, "Are your tired allready, it's barly been a mile. So come on lighten up and don't think about it, the miles will slip by as we march." Darla said sticking her toungue out in a humorous fashion.

(You play Chris for a while, ok?)

((...background. Right. That's okay then, I suppose there are *some* actual real people like that *somewhere* but... it's just the whole references to tigresses and all that... it really does make her sound like a cheap James Bond Slut, to answer your question. Frankly, I've shown it to some people, and they all agree that you'd see better in Playhouse, whatever that is. If there's quite a lot of marching ahead of them, can we skip straight to 'getting there'? Because there wouldn't be much dialogue on a long march, and we've wasted enough time already.))

Annelle grinned at Darla and said "Remember my little 'nobody tells me anything around here' exposition? I like to be informed. I'm perfectly capable of keeping up."

They began marching. Annelle found herself behind Darla and next to Chris, who nodded to her. She grinned at him. "Had some fun last night?" Chris just shrugged and kept walking.

(Agreed)

Darla winked and said, "You better beleive it." For the rest of the march the group made dialouge about the mission ahead and their histories. As they neared the location they began to move more tactfully and then with in a hundred yards of their target they began to look like real scouts moving into postion to spy on the enemy encampment.

(What do you want the enemy camp to be like? How bout you make a discription about the place then we'll continue, k?)

(Ah, crap. This is where we need Urukku, who has of course disappeared a long, long time ago. Do you want to TG him or shall I? In any case it isn't an "Enemy camp" - Annelle is gathering evidence about THE CORRUPT GOVERNMENT to smuggle out of the country. Soo... we'd be going to a city where riot are happening, or something.)

(I know, I made an analogy about their professionalism. So whats the riot like and no I'll Rp the freedom fighters, I'll leave you Anelle and Urukku's part.)

((Argh, no, I don't feel comfortable with Urukku's part, I don't know enough about the country and it feels too Moddy - I'm not really mod material and it sucks when a mod plays a character too in any case. I'd really rather let this RP die if Urukku isn't available, and assume my character is back in Resquide, yadda yadda.))

(Sure, as long as we damn Urukku for his cowardice.)