SIS - Epic Storybook (No longer Accepting)

James Dakota (Jax)

Picking my bag back up from where I had only recently dropped it, I followed the others down the stairs. These guys seemed pretty serious, which was not a very good thing for me. They'd looked at the new girl as if she'd just smacked them in the face when she brought her weapons out. As I more or less jogged down the stairs, I turned to the girl.

"These are a happy bunch, ain't they?" I smiled.

"That was rather stupid of me though, wasn't it?" She was biting her lip.

"You think that was stupid?" I chuckled. "Trust me, I am bound to do more idiotic than that, babes."

Finally, a small grin appeared on the girls lips. She didn't seem to happy about me calling her babes though, I might have had to stop that. What could I say? Force of habit. It was a good thing I was a pretty guy, otherwise, she might have ripped my head off. She did have a very large collection of weapons, after all.

"What's your name?" The girl asked me.

"James, but you can call me Jax." I shrugged. "James is way to posh for my liking. You?"

"Erika," She replied.

Before I had the chance to respond, another voice interrupted me. I spun around to hear where it was coming from. It was the other new comer. The one who had threatened everyone with a gun. So far, she was my favourite. Violent people were entertaining. The newcomer smiled at me.

"James is hardly a posh name." She said. "I'm Ariana Rhodes, by the way. Call me Ria."

"Why hello there, Ria" I winked at her.

Laughing, she turned her attention back to the guy who was leading us down the stairs. Erika soon did the same. She was clearly slightly worried about making the wrong impression.

"So...?" I said cheerfully, turning to that Reet guy. "Where exactly are we headed, mate?"

First and Last Name: Isadaemys Abney

Nickname: Daemys

Age: 21

Appearance: Daemys is tall, but not gangly, with a mass of red curls and a bunch of freckles. He usually wears a trench coat, and always wears Converse and a fedora.

Personality: Daemys is determinedly cheerful, and is usually to be found smiling. It's kind of his way of dealing with the terrible things in this world. He's also fiercely protective, though, and not one to fight with.

Preferred Vehicle: A crappy looking Harley-Davidson that nevertheless works wonderfully.

Style: Gains trust swiftly and easily.

Skills/Weapons/Other: Can use a gun, is very good with swords, and always has a dagger up his sleeve, but usually smooth talks his way out of sticky situations.

Up for love: Yep.

History: He was orphaned at a young age (12), and grew up in a foster home. When the global situation began to deteriorate, he saw an opportunity to put his speaking skills to use. He enlisted in the British Armed Forces originally, but soon was taken into the SIS.

Code: 015

Inivitation accepted. I was already tempted but decided I'd joined too many and now I've undecided that XD

Just give me a min to read all this information and then I'm yours.

Okay, let's see...

First and Last Name: Naomi Lisa Grafton
Nickname: Raven
Age: 34
Appearance: Raven haired and with big, blue eyes, Naomi is average height with a curvy figure. She keeps her hair long but usually wears it tied back. Naomi never wears jeans or any clothes that restrict her movement too much. Her make-up tends to be light and subtle.
Image (optional):

Spoiler

http://www.hissandpop.com/celebrities/t/livtyler/photos/liv-tyler-015.jpg
Personality: Paranoid and quiet, Naomi doesn't make friends easily even amongst the SIS. She's always polite, cordial, some might even say warm but there's no personal level with Naomi. This is what makes her a poor candidate for seduction. She rarely does light conversation or dinner dates and when she does, it's because she's lost control for a moment and her emotions have got the better of her. Naomi tries very hard not to let that happen. However, if you're able to persuade her to have one drink with you, it might be possible to encourage a second and pretty soon she'll be wild, crazy and the most friendly, open person you could ever hope to meet.
Preferred Vehicle:

Spoiler

Style: For example: Assassination.
Skills/Weapons/Other: Naomi isn't attatched to any particular weapon, she takes whatever is needed for the job and uses her surroundings or hands when necessary. It's likely that she'll have a gun, her trusty flip knife, a cigarette lighter and a set of two hypodermic needles on her at all times. The hypodermic needles are secured in a small pouch normally used by disbetics (naturally she has a fake diabeties card also) which allows her to keep the drugs at a cool temperature. One would be filled with a knock-out drug and the other a lethal drug.
Up for love: Yes.
History: Her Mother and Father seperated when she was five years old and strangely, it was her father who took custody of her. Naomi's mother was an emotional wreck, started hooking up with any man who would have her, got pregnant within a year and died of complications during the birth. This had some affect on Naomi but her father was very good at steeling her against the pain. He was a police officer at first and taught his little girl how to defend herself. He sent her to martial arts classes. Being a police officer wasn't enough for her dad though so he took up vigilante crime fighting. Naomi grew and matured and at sixteen she was popular, friendly, more than ready to go to college and on track for a career in forensics. But before all of that could happen, one evening her father left and didn't come home. His body was found outside a warehouse which was later discovered as a headquarters for money laundering. It was a friend of her father's, a fellow police officer who broke the news to her and put her in contact with her new guardian, a member of the SIS, close friend of her father's who'd agreed a long time ago to be her god-father. Naomi hadn't even known she had one. After that, it was a hop skip and a jump before she started training as an assassin and joined the SIS herself.
Code: 0012

*Edit* I forgot to add that Naomi is the wild card. Despite not being the best at assuming an alterior identity, they sent her because she knows enough chinese and russian to get by.

Jackson Reet.

"Where exactly are we headed, mate?"

"We're going down to the bunker so you can drop off your weapons. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to point them around a little more?" Reet said. He felt his body tremble with a little suppressed laughter and could help letting out a small snort of mirth. "Those were some real smooth moves back there, guys. Seriously. You know, way to make a good impression on the new boss and the people you're working with. Pull out a gun. Jesus." He snorted again and shook his head.

The new arrivals had made things a little sticky there for a moment. If anyone had passed the bookshop at the time they would have seen the group of them, some holding weapons at each other. The police could have been called, and the whole operation gone to shit.

One of the girls seemed worried about what she'd done. The guy beside her, James, seemed less bothered, happy, if a little cocky and sure of himself. Reet wasn't sure what to make of the other girl, the one who had strode into the shop rather boldly with a gun in her hand.

Reet slowed for a second so that they caught up with him. "Okay, guys, I'm Reet." He grinned and held out his hand. "I guess you could say the resident smart-arse around here, but I'm hoping to change that."

C-4 | Clint Lawson

A last look at the door to ensure he had properly locked it and that Layton was in good hands, then he fell into step behind the trio of newcomers and Reet, suddenly wishing for another cigarette and almost missing the previous quiet. He snorted to himself, remembering his distracted wishes for some excitement. Looked like he was getting what he'd asked for.

He stayed silent on the way down, forcing himself to calm down. Not easy, since he'd been half-terrified the operation would get busted due to what seemed like pure shoddiness, but it was that or leave to vent by shooting or blowing stuff up, which was both horribly difficult to do here and not an option when Layton needed the whole team there for a first briefing.

He used that time by looking over the three he was following. Lily at least seemed to be realizing she'd overreacted, which was always a good first step, especially if it meant she wouldn't do it again. Dakota - he'd been due to arrive the previous week, and the lateness did nothing to endear him to Clint. Neither did the cockiness, but he'd reserve judgment. Ria Rhodes, he was definitely leery of. Trigger-happy was not a good thing when it came to undercover ops.

Not like he had a choice, he supposed. The team was made, he'd have to suck it up. He looked up when Reet spoke, smirked to himself. He was putting it in much nicer terms than Clint himself would have. He gave some time for the shaking of hands and common courtesies, then spoke up from the back, forcing his features into neutrality.

"I suggest we all forget the complete disaster that just happened upstairs and start over. No point in killing each other before we even start working. I'm Clint - you can call me C-4."

First and Last Name:
Samuel Cook

Nickname:
Erm...Sam, I suppose? It doesn't really matter.

Age:
24

Appearance (Description):
6'1", with short-cut light brown hair. He's of Native American descent, though you can't really tell.

Image (AKA me in ten years Sorry for the gushiness):

Spoiler

Channing-Tatum[1].jpg (24.68 KiB) Viewed 347 times

Personality:

Sam is very energetic and carefree, overly so at times. Outwardly, he doesn't pay too much attention to protocol or the need for seriousness; instead, he tries to be as relaxed as possible (which usually means being obnoxious) in the hopes that it will rub off on others when they need it most. He's extremely curious, and loves new things.

Preferred Vehicle:

He loves his Audi, but, due to the extreme congestion and impossible traffic of China, he rarely gets to drive it. He doesn't really care what it is he ends up using, as long as it isn't too old.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/airlambo23/3978662636/

Pretty much that, but less excessive.

Style: Seduction

This might sound weird, but Sam is most comfortable playing off of his looks in order to get what he wants. He's been known to woo women (usually the wives of his targets) in order to plant bugs, wiretaps, etc, in certain opportunistic places. He can take on any kind of demeanor in order to achieve this, be it the bookworm, the bad-ass, the good-guy..whatever. He tries to pretend it's all about the job, but he secretly enjoys it.

Skills/Weapons/Other:
Because of his style of work, Sam has the knowledge required to use a gun, but never carries one. He prefers to hide various knives about himself, usually small, weak-bladed stilettos that are intended for single use, to be snapped off at the hilt to cause maximum damage while maintaining silence.

Up for love:
Yes, if you're patient enough to catch up with him.

History:
As a teenager, Sam was just as reckless and carefree as he is now, but lacked direction. Growing up on his parents farm in Wyoming grated on his nerves, and the isolation from society eventually led him to join the Marines when he was 18. The difference in climates (metaphorically) enabled his exceptional learning capabilities in the Corps, and he graduated boot camp with flying colors to land a job with the CIA and eventually the SIS. However, he's considered somewhat of a newbie, and his superiors are taking a risk placing him in SIS, hoping it will teach him a thing or two about the business as a whole.

Code: 006

*sorry this post is so sucky...I'm having trouble remembering who's who, and I don't want to make a mistake, thus the suckishness. I get better, promise.*



Sam heard a veritable stampede of footsteps coming his way down into the bunker. He shoved one last bite of noodles--they were like the Ramen ones, only infinitely more Chinese-tasting--into his mouth before dropping the microwavable cup into the trash bin in the tiny kitchen. He made his way through the series of small, warm rooms to the staircase, only to be shoved back by Ty and a swarm of strangers.

He backpedaled nimbly, waiting for an opportunity to speak. Finding none, he gave up and sat on the couch, trying to decipher all of the new faces from the ones he already knew. His bare foot bounced curiously as he watched them all chattering about this or that: I'm so and so, who are you? You can call me this. Ah, so this is the something or other. I thought it would be something-er.

The conversation didn't really interest Sam. What he really wanted to know was who had the poison. He'd heard some mention of it through the vent (sound traveled!) and was aching to know what it looked like.

Before he could ponder any more about it, a man broke off from the rest of the group and walked over to him. Something about the man made Sam stand up, back straight, and wait for his somehow-superior to answer. He knew a senior officer when he saw one.

Suddenly he felt like he should be dressed more properly. Looking down quickly at his pair of gym pants, black A-shirt, and bare feet, he knew that this man wouldn't like it. He tried to make up for it as the man stopped in front of him and studied him for what must have been a few seconds, but felt like an eternity.

Ty Sirus

"Can do Mr. Boss Man," Ty lead George through the back of the store, down the stairs with the others, then farther back to a service elevator with a rusted "Out of Order" sign on it. "Just press the Button Three times, and hold it down on the forth to make it open. We couldn't totally fix it when we were setting up, so watch your step.

The two of them climbed into the elevator,which was a foot above floor, and went down to the surveillance room. "Now, we don't have a drastic much set up yet, but we have all the equipment ready. We had to ready the base, and wait for you to really do much." The doors opened and they were meet with a glowing room. Computer screens decorated just about every inch of the place, with control panels at the bottom. Most of the computers were set to static though, with nothing connected to them yet. There was a feint smell of bleach still, having it formally been a janitor closet.

"We have a total of thirteen cameras set up, as of now. Five of them are set on street lights that surround their head quarters. Another five are set up on the roofs over the buildings around them. The last three are out security cameras. The only bigs we have are set up at the fountain in front of the building, only place we could."

George nodded as he flicked a few of the switches, moving the cameras to get a full picture. "Good. Do we have any plans to increase out surveillance?"

"Yep Yep. We were waiting for you, Gerv'na, before we went in. We were able to secure some temp jobs tomorrow afternoon, janitors and assorted cleaners. Perfect for planting bugs. I'll be on window washing, giving you guys the equipment, won't make it past security."

"Looks like you have this all planned out. Good job. I just hope we can keep ourselves together during the mission. And by the way. its Guv'nor," George was obviously annoyed by his current team.

"Don't worry, man. They're professionals. Hand picked for it, they have to have it somewhat together."

"I guess so," George got up. "If you don't mind, I'll leave you here to get back to work. I''ll get acquainted with the others on my own."

"Can do Guv'nor, nice nickname," Ty returned back to his station, which he had only left for the nasty speckle upstairs.

Naomi

I was upstairs in a small, square room, sitting at a desk with my back to the wall and facing the only door in or out of the room. I'd sort of claimed the desk as mine or at least made it impossible for use by anyone else; there was a lot of paper covering its surface, an open laptop and a stack of books at one end, all mine. There hadn't actually been anything concrete for us to do over the last two weeks so I'd been occupying my time with a little light research, all case related of course. Mostly I was brushing up on my Chinese which I'd doubtlessly have to put into use tomorrow.

As the door opened, I looked up and tensed as an unfamiliar man entered. He looked young and suave, hands clasped behind his back as he stepped into the room like he owned it. And he looked down at me. I was sitting and he was standing so that was sort of natural but I got the impression that he always looked down on people.

"May I help you?" The question of course was everything it should be. It was open enough that if this was a customer who'd somehow stumbled upstairs, I could get him the hell out. But it was also open enough that I wouldn't be pissing off our expected boss. With the clothes he was wearing and the whole detective look he had going on, I felt safe in assuming this was probably the famous George.

"I'm George Leyton," he confirmed. Expected or not, it made me feel a little better to hear it said out loud. I gave him a cordial nod.

"Naomi Grafton," I said. Putting the book aside and closing the laptop, I stood up. "Have you met the others?" I inquired.

wow...look at the post...is this just interaction time...hope i'm not late....can anyone pull me in?


Maya

So this is the place? I noted as I looked up and down at the store before I looked at the other stores around us. Sigh, the could at least do something much better than this. This store looks more old than the other stores. I can easily get targeted. I looked at the windows...not much people. That is another clue that we can be targeted. It should be a shopping mall where people come and go. And then, there will be no suspicion. Few people leads to suspicion.
I shook my head.
Why did i even bother to go to this but the boss is the boss. There was nothing else I can do.
"Are you okay here, Miss?" the taxi cab said looking at me awkwardly.
"I'm okay," i forced a smile and he left off. Miss? I am not that too old! Bastard. Anyway, what am i standing here for? I am suppose to go inside. I loosen my shoulder. I knew that i should sleep in the plane rather than observing each person around.

As the others introduced themselves, Erika sat alone in the corner and began to unpack her things. There were a fair bit of people here now, which made Erika happy since they could count on each other and the work load per person would be less. Also, Erika figured that there would be safety in numbers. She wondered how long that they were going to be sitting and introducing themselves for, and when they would sit down to meet. She was especially excited for this part, since Keates had not given her much information. Until then, she got her book out and started to read. Erika figured that she could introduce herself to the others when they sat down and met about the mission. She wasn't in the mood for socializing as of yet.

Clare Stepples

I tapped my fingers on the window of the old pickup impatiently. It had been a long plane ride, and now this fat Chinese guy was driving slower then my grandma. I had hoped hitch-hiking would be faster, as well as cheaper, but this was retarded. I groaned and looked up at him.
"How much longer until we're there?" I smirked, just a playful little smirk, but for someone like him it wouldn't take much.
"It's right over there." He nodded up the road, not taking his eyes off me. That seriously irritate me, I didn't mind he was checking me out, but i wished he would keep his eyes on the road. He noticed my wary stare ahead of me, and pulled over. I knew this was the place. I whispered in his ear.
"Thanks." He smiled. I quickly opened the door and got out, slamming it behind me. My secret revenge for driving so slowly. It was bad enough my flight had been rescheduled. It was just a very long day all in all.

I walked up to the door. Pulling the piece of paper out of my shorts. Ya this was the place, my personal hell on earth, for the next lord knows how long. I tried to pull it open, but it just wouldn't budge. I looked at the sign, closed, figures. Today just wouldn't be my day. I banged my fist in the door. Some guy come over, he checked me out, but then shook his head and pointed at the sign. I groaned again.Yelling at him.
"I work here! I just don't have a key! Let me in now!" He unlocked the door and opened it a bit.
"Can i help you mam?" I sighed, crossing my arms and licking my lips.
"I work here now, let me in please." I batted my eyelashes awaiting his response.

*Could someone pull me in here please... i only left for a few hours yet it feels like days *

This is probably not going to be too good, but once I learn the characters better...I will get better, too.

Isadaemys Abney (Daemys),

My mind was still whirling after I got off the plane. China? The very heart of an enemy territory. Fun. I was going to have the time of my life, especially since I knew no Chinese, had never been there before, and had no idea what I was doing. Ah, well. They gave me an address, at least. Hopefully, I'd be able to locate it
After about an hour of wandering around the downtown area, trying to locate the supposed bookstore, I was getting frustrated. No way in hell could I read the names of the various shops, and apparently, no one felt the need to use numbers in their addresses, either. It was just as I was passing a small, shabby shop that I saw something: people with guns in a shop across the street. I grinned for a moment, not moving, and then leaned against the wall. It was evident that the people inside the shop were having an argument of some sort, and it was also obvious that they'd used guns before. And they were all Westerners. I grinned again. Yep. This would be it. We'd have to work harder on the whole "undercover" thing.
When it looked as if the emotional tension had sizzled down, I strolled across the street and peered into the shop window. Books. Yes, this was definitely the place. I couldn't see anyone in there anymore, but I figured that now was a good a time as any to enter, so I did.

"Anybody here," I said in a soft, sarcastic voice.

C-4 | Clint Lawson

Name given and the others settled down in the bunker, all that remained was to wait for Leyton to come down and meet the team. With that in mind Clint leaned back against the wall, sending an amused look at Sam's sudden realization that what he was wearing might not have been proper attire to welcome the boss.

Then sound carried from the vents, voices that were way louder than was warranted in bookstore. A closed bookstore. He swore again and moved for the doorway again. "We got company. Sit tight, I'm going to see what the hell's going on this time. Don't come up until things start blowing up or something, kay?" A significant glance at Ria, then he glanced at Reet and Sam. "Call Ty, tell him to be ready if anything iffy happens. Get Naomi too, I think she's still upstairs." Then he was gone, quietly going up the stairs and opening the door to peer at the room. There was someone at the door, trying to get in, no one on the main shop. Weird; he could've sworn he'd heard someone already in the building. There was a soft murmur of voices from upstairs, which he took to mean Ty was done with Leyton and the boss had stumbled on Naomi. He hesitated for a moment, but went for the door. He could trust the two of them to deal with any possible intruder; for now he had to deal with the loudmouth at the door.

Then of course yet another showed up, and it was hard to keep the annoyance out of his face. "Store's closed. What do you need?"

The door had, somehow, gotten unlocked. What the heck? He glared at it. He knew he'd locked it properly... He was going to have Words with the locksmith as soon as the whole mess smoothed down a bit.

He opened the door wider, looked at the woman as she insisted she worked there. Another? "I'm sorry, there's been some personnel confusion lately. May I have your name?" HQ had sent a list of names a while ago. With some luck he still remembered enough of it to be able to judge.

[[[could you guys actually try to keep to details? Door was locked, and even if it magically unlocked, the store can't be empty when there's already one to two character in it... It makes it hard to adjust.]]]

I is a be joinin' soonish! Saveth me a spotty!