Transitions

Shane-

He shook his head in disgust before moving to one of the cots and gently laying Sarah down on it. The other kids were calming down, but rather then go back to their own beds they clustered around Sarah's.

Frustrated Shane paced around the room, as he thought aloud. The need to act coursing through his veins, he loathed being strung along by others. It was why he rarely took commissions. Preferring to steal goods and sell them on the black market. "So, if we're all just being used by someone. Who is it? And what's the point? All these unconnected assassinations scream master plan. Personally, I could care less. You know I think all the major factions are crazies led by idiots with thumbs up their butts." Belatedly he remembered Tobias was in one of those factions and cast him a wry glance. "No offense man."

Tobias, who knew well Shane's issues with the factions, just grinned and said. "None taken. All that's beside the point that the Seraphs would just love to take your head, given half a chance. It's been, what, two years since you made Dusk. And they're still pissed over it."

At that, Shane glanced at his partner and and grinned unrepentantly. "Personal issues aside. This is major problem."

Christie

The moon was out, and the stars shone to their brightest. Great..Just what I need. Light. thought Christie. She was dashing across the city as fast as possible. She knew how many people wanted to kill her. But, strangely, it seemed as if the city was empty, but of course, that was impossible.

She reached the end of the city, which now stretched out to what had been a desert before the war, but now it was one big black expanse. She ran out in an easterly direction and saw the dead oak. She pressed a specific piece of bark, and a hole opened.

Under the tree was an underground fortress. It had plenty of rooms for all 500 of soldiers. Plus a huge mess hall. Christie raced down the entrance tunnel and looked around the mess hall. Nobody.

That's odd.. I thought i posted some guards here. She walked over the mess hall and went through a door that went directly into her quarters. She gasped.

It was ransacked. Everything was turned over and onto the floor and it looked like no stone was left unturned. Her mattress was flipped over and slashed to pieces. Even her rug was ripped.

Now desperate, Christie ran toward the bunks, shouting and screaming for someone to come, for anyone to come. No one came.

They were gone. Her entire army had vanished. Were they dead? Or were they just kidnapped? And who could kidnap 500 people?

She let out a scream of rage filled with hatred and sorrow. She screamed so loud, that it could be heard all over the city. She had nowhere to go now. She was now a loner. But she had to find her family. She just had to. But she couldn't do it alone. She needed Shane and Tobias's help. They knew the city better than she did.

Duncan

He raised his head at the sound of the scream, reloading his rifle quickly. He didn't even bother trying to hide the four GoD soldiers he'd just killed, instead making his way immediately towards the sound of the cry.

It took him almost half an hour, but he found himself standing in front of a tree. Initially, he was somewhat confused, but then he decided that whoever had screamed had to be around here somewhere. He wanted to find out who they were. He climbed the tree and checked his rifle, lighting a cigarette while he waited for whoever it had been to show up.

Gabriel

The lead assassin collapsed to the floor, clutching at his head and muttering incessantly under his breath. His nose was bleeding. Gabriel rubbed his temples a little - he'd wracked the fool's brain for almost an hour now, he knew almost everything there was to know about him. But he still couldn't discern the name of the assassin's employer. "Brother Gibson. Find me some painkillers." He gave the gibbering wreck on the floor of his cathedral a disgusted look, "And someone deal with this mess."

Gibson handed him a packet of tablets, watching his priest pop two out and dry swallow them. He cleared his throat, "Father, could you find the name?"

Gabriel let out a growl, "No. He doesn't know it. He's Triste, though. Perhaps one of the heretics will have a name for us. Gather as many Seraphs as you can find, Brother. We must find the name of whoever was wealthy enough to not only hire these men, but equip them with this kind of hardware."

Christie

She took one last look throughout the place she had been raised. Christie had already been through her room and saw that all of her precious belongings have been taken. Her hollow steps rang out through the silent corridors and passageways.

Her eyes, hard and cold, had no room left for tears. There was only an empty numbness, reminding her that with each step, it would grow more and more intense. Unanswered questions rang out through her head.

Christie felt unprotected. She had left her knife next to the wall in Tobias's yard, and all her other weapons had been stolen. She climbed up the steps that led to the entrance, brushing her red hair away from her face. Once she reached the top, she began to race across the desert. Feeling the wind against her face was a welcome comfort.

Something heavy knocked into her, knocking the breath out of her. She rolled over to find a man standing above her, his eyes livid.

He struck down once with the back of a gun, and all went black.

Tobias

"You know what I owe the Triste Shane, I have to tell them about what we think is going on."
"Yes I know. You might think about going underground for a while, if you've been as neck-deep in this whole mess as you say you are... You actually sold rocket launchers for a hit on the Seraphs?" Shane's tone was incredulous, the idea bordered on suicide.

"I don't make rocket launchers," Tobias replied, "I merely repaired some weaponry they brought with them. Trust mercenaries to go on a high end assassination with anti-tank weaponry."
"Why on earth would you stick your neck out like that, was the pay...?" Shane began.
"The pay was moderate, nothing more than I'd have asked for, I may have..." said Tobia, before himself being interrupted.

Megan shambled over from Sarah's cot, using a staff as support for her out-of-proportion frame. "They played to his pride, asking whether he wouldn't or whether he couldn't."

"An old man deserves his pride," sniffed Tobias, before turning away towards one of the barred windows. "But you're right Tobias, we should move to a more secure compound, closer to the heart of Triste turf, neither your kids nor Megan will be safe here after tonight."

"And how about you Shane?" Megan asked quietly, with a deep tone that implied greater significance into the question than might otherwise have been apparent, "what do you need to do?"

"What do you?" Shane asked, being cut off again, by Tobias; who was still looking out the window, at the dark, dangerous streets.

"She wants to know if you still feel the compulsion. Stupid of us to let that Christie go without making sure she got rid of the thing.

Shane-

"It's still there. But it's distant, like something half remembered." Standing Shane paced over to Dusk, lying down he leaned against the griffin, eyes closed in exhaustion. "If I'm going to help you move I need some sleep. Wake me when the sun comes up."

**Billy, I can't post anything until you post**

Duncan

It was a while before the girl woke up, and Duncan contented himself in the time between with several cups of coffee to keep him awake. He didn't want her waking up on him and making the assumption that he was going to kill her, especially if she had the Gift. The very same reason he'd knocked her out in the first place, he'd be better off if she couldn't access the full range of her abilities. After all, if she was who he thought she was, he had good reason not to want her at peak functionality.

She stirred across the room from him. It was bleak, bare concrete walls, a single dirty window, a webs of cracks originating in one corner its only feature. The Wolf Pack's leader looked up at him, eyes bloodshot and teary. Duncan knew how much her head must have been hurting.

"Who're you?" She asked, "What do you want?"

Duncan took a long drag on his cigarette before looking back up at her, "Information. Why the assassinations?"

She barked a laugh, then went to hold her head, only to find her hands tied behind the chair she was seated on, "I'm not telling anything until you tell me who you are."

"I'm no one important." He said, voice cracked from either too much smoking or too much dust in his lungs, "Now, talk."

Christie

"I won't talk," Christie murmured.

She directed all of her energy at the mans mind, trying to force him to her will, but it was no use. He had hit her on the head so hard, that it was too painful to do anything like that for a long time.

"Well, that's too bad, seeing as you don't have any choice," the man smirked."I'll be right back. I need to get something."

The man left the room, and Christie hurriedly began cutting her bonds, for a few years back, she had one of her nails sharpened and fitted with a metal plate for this exact occasion. It had come in handy multiple times.

Once she was free, she reached into her pocket and took out a cell phone. While in Tobias's house, Christie had made sure to get their number in case of emergency. She dialed the number. She swore when she got the answering machine.

"Guys, its Christie, some lunatic trapped me in one of the old abandoned buildings. Please.. You may be in danger, please. I need you to come an-"

The door opened and the man was there with a gun.

"Drop the phone."

Duncan

The woman looked up to him, suddenly terrified, before slowly putting the phone on the floor.

"I'm not one for talking much, hurts my throat to do so. But this needs saying. I'm not going to kill you, I'm not going to go after your friends, and the only reason I knocked you out and tied you up and everything is because I know who you are and I need to know what's going on. I'm just a mercenary, and no one's paying me anything to kill you, so there's nothing in it for me." He started coughing, holding his throat for a long moment while he caught his breath and then straightened up, "Now, I'm going to need to know everything you know, as well as who you're talking to, and how I can keep myself safe from everything that's going on at the moment."

Christie


She smirked. This old man couldn't hurt her, or her friends. He completely incapable.

"Give me a good reason to tell you. I'm faster and stronger than you. I can get out of that door faster than you can say 'Tristie'. You captured me merely out of luck. I was in no condition to fight when you caught me." Christie suddenly remembered why she had gone to the desert. Eyes swimming with tears, she struggled to contain herself. "Anyways, why don't you just open up that door and let me out now, to save yourself the trouble."

*Either Rubic or sylverdawn or Billy have to post before me*

I made a DT heres the link:
topic40572.html

Name: Alexander David Wallace

Age: 27

Gender: male

Outfit: mercenary (currently independent, would be willing to join a mercenary band later)

Profession: Covert Assassin

Gift Level: 3

Appearance: Pale skin, greying black hair, brown eyes, stubbly facial hair. Looks generally very plain. Wears a suit and shades.

Personality: Alex is very introvert, and when he expresses himself he tends to do so in a manner which reveals as little else about him as possible. As such, he can appear very cold hearted to others, and will rarely explain his actions if prompted to do so. Even so, anyone who gets to know Alex well enough will realise that his lack of expression is actually just his method of coping with stress-he bottles up his emotions. And with such a stressful life, it is only a matter of time before Alex either crumbles under the weight of his emotional baggage, or goes insane and projects his negative feelings onto others in the form of aggression.

Other: Alex came to New York with his family shortly before the war from his birthplace in England. Nobody knows why he did this, as it is known that he was living a very luxurious life in England. When the war ended, Alex did his best to protect his family, and became a killer in the process, but they were soon killed when Alex had his back turned. Alex vowed to find out who killed them and to get revenge. He has advertised his services as a mercenary ever since, often turning away generous offers of money in favour of information. He hasn't been hired for a month, and is running low on money to buy food, so he is looking around for a job.
Alex's preferred weapon is his pistol, but he is currently low on bullets and his usual dealer died of the gift. As such, he is keeping his pistol to one side for use under the most dire circumstances, resorting to using his knife instead.

Duncan

He shook his head, his scarf hiding a pained smile, "You just don't get it, do you Christie? I know who you are, I think everyone in this city does, and I know you're probably a better fighter than me, and you're Gifted, on top of that. But right now, if the condition I found you in is anything to go by, you've got less than I do." He looked about himself, as if seeing the room for the first time, "And that's saying a lot."

"You still haven't-"

"I wasn't finished." He said, cutting her short, "You should help me, because I can help you. I know the city better than most, and I'm no slouch at combat. Given the current state of your faction, you're going to need as much help as you can get."