Post by The Silent Fourteen on Aug 14, 2012 1:03:48 GMT -5
The assassin leaned back in his chair and placed his feet on his desk. The lacerations on his back, chest, and legs, still stung from the disinfectants.
"Damn kangaroos," He growled. A few months back, the vermin had swarmed his campground and beaten him into a coma. He returned to find the Order in disarray once more. "I swear, I'm the only person who can run this dump." He pulled out a few files from his safe. "Expired, expired, expired... So much money lost..." A Reaper's work is never done. The contracts from the past year were all long past the completion dates. His command structure had fallen apart and his entire base of clientele left for a more competent ancient order of assassins.
"Well, I guess that we'll just have to start over again." He leaned up to the intercom and signaled the secretary. "Tell the Ghosts to travel around and spread the word. The Order of the Silver Star is back in business."
He smiled and ran his knife over a whetstone. "I think that there might be some fun in store..."
Kent in the times since his shore leave returned to the mundane task of keeping his own personal house in tip-top shape. He failed to provide any other help to the residential areas or town in general; he operated under the assumption that unwarranted help would result in painful discovery, finding information, weapons, or secrets that were never meant to reach his eyes.
For the time being, the human found himself staring at lines of characters, neatly arranged into words, phrases and sentences. These in turn formed paragraphs, which took up 200 sheets of compressed paper. It contained lies, contrasting the few lines of truth hidden in between, emphasizing their points. He felt like stared a painting. This paper of pure white became pure truth, unknowable and infathomable. It was only through the blocking of certain colors, the painting that formed in his mind, that allowed him to make sense of the truths recorded therein. He found the same case to be in the words his sight reached, and in the story he sought to explore. Silence permeated all else, except for the occasional creak made when he shifted on his matress to a more comfortable position.
Last Edit: Aug 15, 2012 0:10:32 GMT -5 by Darkrider
Post by The Silent Fourteen on Aug 15, 2012 0:38:40 GMT -5
Jericho rolled up his sleeve and ran the knife over the hair on his arm. The blade shaved the skin clean. "Perfect." He slid the knife into his boot and slammed his feet on the ground. The thud shook the desk and knocked over a few curios. He spoke into the intercom once more. "Tell Kent to report in... Actually, belay that." His face shifted and changed to that of Sturm, the infamous Iceman. Jericho donned an old, tan colored trenchcoat and slipped out through the window. "I think I'll stop by his place today."
His body flickered for a second and then vanished from sight. He silently ran from rooftop to rooftop until stopping just outside the Phantoms' mansions. "What kind of security traps do you have today?" Lighter deactivated his PEHD and jumped to the ground. He landed with a loud thud that shook the plants outside. "Shit." With a little bit more grace, he pulled out a set of lock picks and quickly passed through a locked basement window. "Piece of cake." The dusty basement appeared to be empty. "Nice touch, Kent." Laser security systems could easily be bypassed by simply being invisibile, but the kicked up dust would trip the alarm.
Instead, he crawled along the ceiling, grasping at cracks with his hands. He jumped down at the other end of the room, past the dust and laser grid. With ease he by passed the cameras and heat sensors. Down one hall, he heard the whine of servos from an auto-aiming laser cannon. "Easy." He turned visible and switched his face to that of Kent's. As he walked by, he switched the cannon to "OFF."
His countenance changed to that of the Iceman's once more, and with a smile, he pounded on the door to Kent's room. "Ask not for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee."
Kent remained silent for some time before uttering a reply loud enough to respond. He had, by this time, the paranoia to suspect who it really was. Jericho loved to screw with him all the time.
"You should have made a quieter noise, amongst the plants. The other things were to merely let your gaurd down. Now come in, I have no mood to fight today. What is it that you need? The Order needs to busy itself again. Things have fallen quiet for too long in these months."
With that, he eased hismelf off his bed and made his way to the door, opening it with anything but formality.
Post by The Silent Fourteen on Aug 15, 2012 0:58:57 GMT -5
"Dammit Kent, you know me too well. That, or I'm rusty. Have I told you about those goddamned kangaroos? I was running that job down south, and I'd been tailing my target for two weeks when suddenly... it's of no consequence." He switched his face back to normal. "Mind if we retire to a more fitting location? The dining room perhaps? Last I checked, there was some food in your pantry." With that, Jericho walked down the stairs and flipped off a security camera. "So, we have some work to do. First things first, any new gadgets for us?"
Kent made a wry smile. "I'd like to think it's a bit of both."
Morgan remained partially incredulous to Jericho's story, especially in light of abilities, but then again, the man was still human.
An important thought to keep in mind. Kent thought briefly, before promptly being struck distracted by Jericho's nonchalant action to raise his middle finger gloriously and uncermoniously at one of the spy cameras his own company set up. Kent released a quiet sigh.
"Don't eat everything I have, I bought it myself. If you do, I'll start calling in favors." The Phantom remarked at the mention of Jericho's hunger. "As for gadgets..."
The pair rounded a corner and chanced upon the open air of a solid wood table sitting comfortably underneath a glass chandelier, the look more traditional, like those of industrious ages...perhaps even a century or two before. "I've cooked up a few things while you were gone. We all have penchants for cloaks and daggers, but what I've come up with is a combination of both, in a way; a flash activated laser blade, attached to any gauntlet of your choice. The blade is activated for only a second, but can flash cook flesh and cauterize blood instantly, a good heart stopper for the precise assassin. With as close range as you'll deal with for this kind of weapon, nobody will see it coming, a kill in passing. I've got some prototypes stored at our armory if you want to check them out later."
Morgan said this while rummanging through the cabinets for a glass, before his hands bore open the fridge and rummaged through the contents inside.
Post by The Silent Fourteen on Aug 15, 2012 1:40:44 GMT -5
"Hm, interesting," muttered Lighter through a mouthful of apple. "This could be fun new toy. How's it powered?."
He placed his polished leather boots on the table and looked over at his host. "You doubt the kangaroo story? Want to see the scars? Even the best of us have to sleep for an hour a day." He snorted and took a massive bite from the apple. He reached inside his pocket and found his smooth silver coin. I'm glad that's still here... His host fumbled with the food in the fridge.
"Also, I'm fairly certain that I pay you to keep me happy. Right now, food keeps me happy. Weren't you supposed to make sure that contracts went through in my absence? Eh well. I suppose I never officially made you the Reaper, and you didn't have the codes to the safes. Which shouldn't stop you, but still. At least you kept your nose out of my business. Remember what happened to the last Phantom who tried a coup?" The Master Assassin ran his index finger past his neck slowly. "Nice place you've got here. Is this oak?" The assassin flicked on his PEHD and looked through a few digital files. "Ooh, a contract. Want it?"
Lighter sent the file to Kent's account. "It's yours. Also, you could always grab a lower ranked assassin to do this bitch work for you." Something approached the door from the street. Jericho felt the man's presence and focused.
He has a magic weapon. Lots of people do, but why is somebody coming to bother a Phantom while armed? "Kent, I think that we have company." Jericho flinched and disappeared.
"Miniaturized power cells." Kent replied. "The flash activation and power-down is a necessity to maintain efficiency. It'll last for awhile."
Morgan grimaced at Jericho's griping. "How else did you think I funded the development for your new toys? And how I keep myself well-fed and stocked?" He thumbed accusingly at the direction to the rest of the town with a clear sign of irriation. "The other guys, on the other hand..." He waved the floating idea soon after. "But I digress. The table is made out of maple, by the way."
Morgan took a sip from his cup, setting it down, his posture more rigid and traditional on his chair. It indicated a sense of no-nonsense, conventional and unassuming. It indicated a passive sense of subtlety, and reservation he projected equally when on the job. "I'll look into-"
At Jericho's interruption, the Phantom's features solidified into an unreadable mask, and he continued to sit still, his attire hiding a pistol nestled securely under a shoulder holster. "I'll draw him in...we'll catch him by surprise."
Post by The Silent Fourteen on Aug 15, 2012 2:22:43 GMT -5
Lighter spoke no reply, but rapped his knuckles once on the maple dinner table to indicate understanding. Lighter drew his Darkness Pistol and walked silently to cover. He controlled his footsteps, moving heel to toe and keeping his feet inline. The visitor knocked on the door. Lighter looked around and checked his surroundings. The mansions were designed to defend against hundreds of armed attackers, but one skilled agent could easily infiltrate even the best strongholds... Shit! The basement window!
The Reaper raced off to the basement area and peered into the darkness. I spy with my little eye... a little Stamarian spy. He pressed a button on the PEHD the spy fell to the ground. "Shock blasts work so well." The agent squirmed. "And we'll have some fun with you." Lighter bound the spy and dragged him upstairs. "My buddy should be finishing up with yours about now..."
Here, Kent remained serene, apparently oblivious to the other agent who treaded in stealth and silence, raising his gun with perfect practice at him. The silence was one to which Morgan spoke through action; he did not wait for his aggressor idly.
In an instant, the electricity powering the chandelier found it's current rerouted, blasting through the air and finding itself a new home in the pistol pointed at Kent, and the nervous system of the person that held it, enough to incapacitate the assassin quickly enough for Kent to whirl around from his seat and plant a punch firmly on the Stamarian Agent's head, who fell to the ground with a loud thump. A pistol pointed at the same head shortly thereafter.
"You think that because I don't act like anything's wrong that you are not detected? Did you not stop to consider that this residence may have involved much wood for more than just aesthetic reason? Sometimes, my friend, the best subterfuge is in the soul and intention."
With a flick of his fingers, Kent administered another electric shock from his fingertips that left the other agent unconcious.
Post by The Silent Fourteen on Aug 31, 2012 2:58:47 GMT -5
Lighter felt another presence appear in the house. Shit! "You," he said to the Stamarian, "I'm sorry, but I have more pressing matters right now." He smacked the agents head against the wall, knocking the spy into a trauma-induced coma. The spy twitched and went limp.
Now, who is sneaking about in my city... With finesse, he moved back upstairs. With his Desert Sense, he followed the target from shadow to shadow. Black? No, he'd have killed us by now. Well, a good Silver Star agent is a prepared agent. He pulled a flashbang from his pocket and tossed it into the room.
"FLASH OUT! KENT, GET OUT OF HERE." A brilliant light filled the room and was followed by a deafening boom. Lighter messaged a nearby TOSS Spectre with his PEHD: Intruder in Kent's Mansion. Initiate Black Protocol- bring flashbangs, floodlights, napalm, and some body armor for me. Get every available agent ready to rock and roll.
"Hey there, hotshot," Lighter yelled into the darkness. "I'll bet you think you're a badass. Let me correct you on that. You do not come into my town and expect to get away with shit like this. You do not attack my commanders and expect to live. We've prepped for people with your skills who are a lot scarier than you. So. You have exactly ten fucking seconds before this becomes a war you cannot win."
The assassin smiled and checked his watch. "Go ahead. Make my day." And with that, he sprinted to the end of the hallway and leapt through a window. Once outside, he turned and faced the house. "I WILL BURN THIS TO THE GROUND."
Meanwhile, The Order of the Silver Star emerged from its slumber and mobilized for a full on assault. Assassins loaded their silenced pistols while soldiers took aim with machine guns. Snipers surrounded the house, and sappers started to place flood lights around the permitter. The mansion became engulfed in light. There could be no stealthy escape.
Kent had bolted the moment he heard Jericho's first two words, turning his back to the direction he heard the voice and plugged his ears and shut his eyes. The moment the blast passed, Morgan yanked his pistol out and dove out another window, moving quickly to regroup with the other agents. Inwardly, he worried if the massive redirection of all of Razortooth's forces allowed other parts of the town to be vulernable.