S.L.I.C.E. {Game Thread/ Closed, Started}

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John felt some weird events transpiring in the rooms around him, and became anxious. He pulled a lead ball bearing out of his pocket and tossed it in the air. It began falling but stopped, and began to orbit John's head. This was a focusing exercise he had been taught by a CIA consultant that was feeding his cell information. John got up and began to pull basic effects out of his dufflebag, a poster (ranger motivational), a calendar, some books, an alarm clock, a cd player, an mp5, etc...

He set his room up as best as he could, had a smoke, and went to sleep.

"Why not. I don't get why you'd ask me, but okay. I'll be your champion."

"You act as though it's just you. No, you were merely stop two on my recruitment list. Good to hear however, I'll be sure to get Zeke to send you some Iscariot garb. And, a general tip for tomorrow, watch out for the black cross." And with that, he left, the world had it's color returned almost instantaneously. Jarring, but nothing he could do about it.
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There was little else to do, for the rest of the day, as the higher ups were silent. Some slept, some socialized, others did other things. Regardless of actions, all heard a voice over the PA system in what most would assume was 5 in the morning. It was the Irishman from their introduction.

"Good morning, kiddos, today you get to head out for your first mission! Please report to your divisions' headquarters, which is the corresponding floor. As a reminder, every fifth door in the barracks hallway is an elevator." He turned off the PA system, wondering how many would survive...
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D2

This floor seemed to be mostly done, though there were a few workers in the background, with eyes glazed over and slack jawed, it was clear there was mind control at work here. The whole floor was designed to look like a cross from an overhead view, a very wide misshapen cross, wide down the middle with a few rooms jutting out around the middle.

"Men." the division leader started, a young hispanic man wearing a suit, who looked about as average as humanly possible, "We have received a message from the Templars, apparently there is demon activity near our location, a rally if you can believe it. As such, we will be sure to eradicate them there. Be warned, although these are standard demons, they are still VERY difficult to kill." the rest of his speech were logistics, armory location, etc. It was time to prepare for these men. Their last order was to meet at the ground floor.
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D3

The atmosphere for D3 was different, less military, though the floor was shaped the same way. The floor seemed to actually be done, and had furnishing. Not much, but it had some. Their speaker, the head of the division, was a middle aged pudgy man, who seemed to be wearing a suit of knights armor. Oddly enough, there were no Templar symbols, or anything else identifying him as more than a weirdo with a suit.

"The grunts have a mission, and luckily, so do we. Ours involves a warehouse, weapons dealers, and Abaddon. We plan to take out their commander TODAY, weakening them significantly. Git your shit from the armory if you aren't packing already, it's around the corner. You know where the elevators are, report to ground floor when ready."
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D5

This floor was smokier, less completed than the second one, and looked like it might collapse at any second. It was a safe assumption to those there that perhaps the budget had run out. The speakers chain smoking certainly wasn't helping. The scrawny elf didn't seem like he could fight well, but perhaps looks could be deceiving? He seemed to be wearing fatigues, so who were they to judge?

"Ladies and gentlemen, our mission today will require stealth and cunning. Luckily, if you're here, you have at least one of the two. Division 3 and our division will be working together today, as we are to take the place of arms dealers, who are trying to make a quick buck. This will require assassination and very good acting. Be sure to stop by the armory, we have guns and magicians on hand to lend very convincing illusion spells to our mission. Report to ground floor when ready."
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D6

This floor was completely done, well furnished, and seemed to radiate pure arcane energy. The speaker was a man who covered his features with a dark purple hoodie, and his accentless voice could be heard in all corners of the room.

"Brothers, sisters, we have our mission for the day. Our resident Division 2 will be attacking a demon rally. We will lend as much aid as able, our spells are more than a match for those filthy demons after all. Prepare your spells, runes, etc, as we will head out as soon as they are ready. Report to Ground floor when ready."

"The grunts have a mission, and luckily, so do we. Ours involves a warehouse, weapons dealers, and Abaddon. We plan to take out their commander TODAY, weakening them significantly. Git your shit from the armory if you aren't packing already, it's around the corner. You know where the elevators are, report to ground floor when ready."

Lyra grumbled as she stumbled down the hallway, still half-asleep and more than a little irate. Granted, she probably should have seen this all coming, but still. Five in the morning? Jeez, and on day two! Apparently the big names in SLICE wanted to get things started as soon as possible.

But in any case, she was up and about now. There wasn't much sense in complaining about the early hour anyhow, not when there was a mission to be prepping for.

Fiddling with the last few buttons on her duster, Lyra marched down the corridor, shaking the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes. The familiar weight of a holster around her hip, not to mention the vest and grenades tucked beneath her coat, served as very real reminders that things were about to get serious. From here on out, she'd have to treat things with the gravity and severity they deserved; anything else could wait until after the mission was completed.

Nodding to the attendant manning the armory, the woman made her way inside, her eyes sweeping the shelves and racks of military hardware before her. Mmmm... The loudspeaker hadn't exactly given much information about today's task; odds were she'd have to use her own intuition to select additional armaments. Warehouse, arms dealers, and Abaddon... Yeah, she'd be needing a bigger gun.

A Barrett M95, complete with three extra magazines, ought to do it.

In addition to the rifle, Lyra selected a pair of binoculars and some rappelling gear, stowing both of them in her backpack. Something in her gut told her that the tools would come in handy during the mission, and it was always better to be safe than sorry.

Though she was satisfied with her current set-up, the solider decided to linger a bit longer. It couldn't hurt to browse for a few more minutes.

The screaming, the damned screaming, the voices so alien, the images so wrong, so unnatural, the chanting, the thoughts, the blood...
GODHELPUSWHYWONTITSTOP?
John's alarm clock went off and a minute later the Irishman started talking over the PA.

"Good morning, kiddos, today you get to head out for your first mission! Please report to your divisions' headquarters, which is the corresponding floor. As a reminder, every fifth door in the barracks hallway is an elevator." It stopped.

John dressed, checked his rucksack and pulled it on, it had his AK strapped to the side of it, he was never one to leave his weapons unattended. Then he looked under his mattress and pulled a black bag from under it, the bag had a few objects in it. He pulled a holster with his revolver from it. He checked that it was loaded and attached the holster to his belt. He slipped the bag back under the mattress.

John opened his door and looked outside his room for a moment, a few people were dazingly walking to their divisions. He walked into the hallway and locked his door behind himself. He took a second to remember which door led to the elevator for Division 3. He remembered and opened the door, the elevator took a minute to get there.

Division Three was different then he was used to it was somehow less serious. The floor appeared to be complete at least, some furnishing too. The head there, was a middle aged man, he was wearing a suit of knights armor, unmarked. He looked like he had been out of the field for awhile though.

After a few other people had shown up, he talked "The grunts have a mission, and luckily, so do we. Ours involves a warehouse, weapons dealers, and Abaddon. We plan to take out their commander TODAY, weakening them significantly. Git your shit from the armory if you aren't packing already, it's around the corner. You know where the elevators are, report to ground floor when ready." Ok, time to get to work.

John was luckily already carrying most of his kit on him. Though there was the armour, the stims, and the rest of the kit. He walked to the armoury and into a locker room attached to the armoury. He opened a locker with his name on it, he stripped down to his underwear and pulled his CBRNE on. He placed his clothes in his locker and began to fit his body armour over it. It was a quick job, something he had been doing for years. He checked for any tears and found none. He pulled his rucksack onto his back, attached his pistol holster to a piece of kit fitted to the armour, and attached his machete's sheath to another, with the machete already in it.. He pulled the hood of the suit up and grabbed his gas mask.

John walked back into the armoury where others were beginning to prep their gear, he put his gasmask on a table in the middle of the room and began to check his weapons, he found they were fine. He lowered his rucksack onto the ground and began to pull vials out of it, most filled with various liquids and powders. He pulled an empty flask out and began mixing the liquids into it, after about five minutes of him trying to get the right mixtures he downed it.

Johns eyes took on a yellowish silver sheen as he packed everything back into his rucksack, he quickly pulled his rucksack back on. He coughed for a minute before pulling his gasmask on. He once again made sure everything was free of leaks and tears. He checked the filter of his gasmask and replaced it with one on his belt. He walked over to a cabinet and pulled a filter from it to replace the one he used from his belt.

John saw a woman looking over the guns and he nodded to her before grabbing a few other things and taking an elevator to the ground floor.

Haytham woke up, got dressed and sped out as soon as he heard the call. The military atmosphere was a bit overbearing. But, he guessed it was a little too soon for any camaraderie amongst the troops. The orders were simple, kill demons, yada, yada, yada. The only weapons he needed were already on his person. Life as a merc taught him to travel light, with only the essentials - ammo, weapons, and so on. But he sprinted over to the armoury and grabbed some backup weapons, stuff like grenades and so on. In the end, he ended up looking more like a mule carrying a heavy load than an experienced soldier. Still, it couldn't hurt to be prepared and he sprinted down to the ground floor, but more slowly than before. Sheepishly, he waved to the people he saw before who were there. Nevertheless, he had a good feeling about this mission, simple as simple as.

William Hale had been sleeping well, him drifting into a dreamless sleep. So, when a voice suddenly woke him up, telling him to go to wherever, he almost wanted to cry.

"Good morning, kiddos, today you get to head out for your first mission! Please report to your divisions' headquarters, which is the corresponding floor. As a reminder, every fifth door in the barracks hallway is an elevator."

Not even looking for Lucas, just simply dressing himself and walking towards the elevator. It wasn't until he had reached the 6th floor he realized Lucas wasn't there, but having already gotten so far, he entered the room they were supposed to meet at. He was simply too tired, and fighting to keep himself awake and aware of whatever what happening there. Will leaned at the wall, using it as a comfortable pillo... H-he wasn't sleeping, not at all. Geez, Lucas needed to be there soon.

"5 AM. Why?" Will thought to himself. "I'm going to need fifteen red bulls." He didn't even bother to listen to what the guy speaking what saying, only getting words like: "Mission" "Filthy demons" and "Ground floor". There wasn't a problem with hearing it, somehow it sounded like it was behind him and in front of him at the same time, but words. Words, sentences, whatever, he just wanted to drift back into sleep. As he felt himself slipping, he jolted up, remembering what might happen if he went into a state between sleeping and awake. Well, it had more been something in high school, when random books sometimes had been flung across the room, but he didn't want to take any chances, even if his control was a lot better now.

"Head back to my room, get energy-drinks or coffee somehow, find Lucas." his thoughts were like sleepy mutters, and he did the last one first, trying to locate Lucas among the other D6 members.

"Brothers, sisters, we have our mission for the day. Our resident Division 2 will be attacking a demon rally. We will lend as much aid as able, our spells are more than a match for those filthy demons after all. Prepare your spells, runes, etc, as we will head out as soon as they are ready. Report to Ground floor when ready."

Ana was already awake. She'd always had trouble sleeping in new places, especially with new people. Fortunately, she didn't need much sleep. She wasn't sure why, but she seemed to have more energy than most. Maybe she was just used to having less rest than other people.

By the time the announcement was finished, she had already tied the things on her back again. She wished she didn't have to hide them, but she didn't want any special attention. She especially didn't want to have to explain why she couldn't use them properly. The thing she wanted the least was the pity that usually came afterwards. She could take care of herself. She'd done it for twenty years.

After getting dressed, she found an energy drink (just in case), ate a quick breakfast, and got a combat knife from the armory. Pretty much everything else was too heavy for her to use, even a small pistol. The knife was a last line of defense, itself, and if she had to use it, well, she was pretty much screwed. Her muscles were seriously underdeveloped. She had to rely on her magic. Besides, though she wasn't a pushover in a fight as long as she had her magic, she didn't really consider herself a frontline fighter. She was more of a medic.

She finished her drink and headed to the ground floor to wait for the briefing.

01:37, Floor 1

Down the hallway a man walked, carrying a small sack of clipboards, tubes, and USB sticks that was slung over his shoulder. He was thin and enviously in-shape, dressed in tastefully simple business attire, and wore a light but not colorless skin embellished head to toe with healed-over scars. His name was Lars Eckhart, and he was not in a good mood.

"'Hey Lars, can you retrieve this information for us?', they said. 'Even though you're going alone, it won't be that hard.', they said. 'Don't worry about it; you'll arrive in time to meet up with the other new recruits.', they said." His muttering impression was uncanny, yet clearly parodical. "The only thing we won't say is that there are fifteen demons in five fucking RVs in the middle of goddamn Nebraska. We're sure you can easily handle every, single, possible complication that could occur. Good day."

Arriving at the appointed door, Lars stuck himself halfway over the threshold and called out to the woman sitting at the desk. "Here's your package." Casually tossing her the invaluable bag, Lars stopped as he was halfway through leaving. "And be sure to tell your g-man boss to give me every detail about a mission next time, otherwise the first two weeks notice you get will be from me!"

Making his way back to the 7th floor, Lars didn't mutter his grudges like before; he simply trudged onwards until be reached his assigned residence. As he entered, the fatigue of the past three days hit him, as if he had opened his door only to be slammed by ocean rushing through the hole. He got as far as unbuttoning his deep violet shirt before collapsing, almost literally, onto his bed.

Sleep would not come easy to the witch, she did not allow it to. To slip into slumber would mean nightmares, twisted memories of her past resurfacing, she would not allow that. Instead the witch sat on the bed wearing the night clothes she had been given and waited, the frigid air keeping her awake, nevertheless it was all to similar to the cave. The darkness calling back to her, suffocating her. She walked over to the switch and turned it on, light once again engulfing the room and sat there alone, waiting for day.

The disembodied voice startled the witch, then she remembered what they had told her, technology that's all it was, not the magic of demons, man or angels, technology.

She pulled on another unassuming hoodie leaving the hood up, put on a fresh pair of jeans, slipped on the shoes she had been given and proceeded down the hall towards an elevator; another piece of technology.

Lucas woke from his alarm, hit the snooze button, and was woken again by the voice on the intercom. Sighing he stood and got dressed, throwing on a bulletproof vest over his new uniform, he could generate armor, but better safe than sorry, still the vest was uncomfortable, and he was unused to wearing one.

As soon as he was dressed he started heading for the nearest elevator, he glanced around for Will but couldn't find him, no worry, he could take care of himself after all. He entered the elevator, its only other occupant a woman, wearing a hoodie that concealed much of her face. He thought he remembered seeing her earlier but wasn't sure.

"Hello, I'm Lucas, looks like we'll be working together," he said in a friendly manner, extending a hand to shake hers, quite determined to make awkward elevator small talk.

"Hello, I'm Lucas, looks like we'll be working together," he said in a friendly manner, extending a hand to shake hers.

"Medea," She replied dismissively ignoring the out stretched hand Lucas had offered her. For now a name was all she could give away, that she would give away. It was one of the few things she knew about herself and it wasn't even her own, it was a name she had chosen, not one she had been given.

"Medea,"

He held the hand up for another few seconds before lowering it, "Well, this isn't awkward or anything, how long have you been here for Medea?" he continued, glancing to see how much longer it would take for the elevator to arrive.

He recognized the name from greek myths, and after meeting Merlin yesterday he didn't doubt that she might be THE Medea. Didn't she turn people into pigs or something? Or was that Circe... regardless not someone he wanted to be on the wrong side of.

"Well, this isn't awkward or anything, how long have you been here for Medea?" Lucas asked, glancing up at something.

"Not long" She replied in the same tone of her introduction.

"Not long"

"I see you aren't one for conversation, or maybe I'm just terrible at talking to girls," Lucas said jokingly, trying to remain friendly. It was becoming clear that Medea would prefer to keep to herself, or maybe she was just cranky at how she'd been woken up this morning? Didn't really matter he supposed.

The elevator arrived on their floor with a ding, and the doors slid open. He glanced around for Will as they did so, then glanced back at Medea, "After you," he said politely, before going back to scanning for Will.

Will had looked around, and suddenly he spotted Lucas, in an elevator that had just arrived. "Why is he late?" From his experience, Lucas was the one to usually wake up the earliest. The younger of the brothers walked over to the elevator, drowsily.

"Lucas, what were you doing? They already said what they needed to say, something about demons and a mission and the ground floor." He then spotted a strange girl in a hoodie.

"Who is that? Were you busy trying to pick up a girl? Did you tell her you can shape-shift every single part of you body?" Will joked. He then yawned, leaning on Lucas, since Lucas worked very well as a temporary mattress. "I want red bulls. And something to eat," the younger of them whined. He glanced at the girl again, she didn't seem to be the usual kind of person, nor talkative. Which was a good thing, perhaps.

"You can have one too, if Lucas pays for it." Will didn't know if or where they could get an energy drink inside the building, or even if they had the time, but he didn't really care. Lucas probably knew.

Once the elevator hit the floor they were destined for, the door slid open with a distinctive ping and before Medea could even get out to find out what mission they might be sending her on, they, Lucas and her, were ambushed by another young man. Brothers? Perhaps, from his demeanour he and Lucas were certainly close and they shared the same trait of being loud.

"Noisy" She said out loud

In her head however she was weaving together a hex, a simple one and not much power would be needed to cast it. Chaining together the few simple commands needed for it; lips, closed, sealed. If what the second man had said was true then they would have to be in the elevator some more and she didn't want to waste her time being badgered by inane questions.

She pressed the button for the elevator to return to the ground floor and cast the malevolent spell on the two men.

"Who is that? Were you busy trying to pick up a girl? Did you tell her you can shape-shift every single part of you body?"

"What? No!" he grinned, well aware Will was teasing him, and decided to joke back "That's not until the second mission that you tell pretty girls that."

He turned back towards Medea, preparing to introduce her and Will, and to apologize for Will, "Sorry about my brother, Will this is-" he was cut off by some strange force slamming his mouth shut, well his lips at least were his teeth slammed down he might've bitten off the tip of his tongue. He glanced at Will, wondering if this was one of his tricks, while he considered a way to shift out of this situation.

"Mmmsh msfh mfh!" was what came out as he tried to vocalize at Will, glancing back at Medea he realized it might've been her as well, "Mmmph hmsh hmph?"

"Mmmsh msfh mfh! Mmmph hmsh hmph?"

Will had felt his own ability to move his mouth disappear as his jaws got jammed shut, and from the sounds, so had Lucas. He looked at his brother, did he really think it was a trick of Will's? Trying to pry open his mouth with telekinesis, but failing, he looked over at Medea. She was responsible for it, right? Yeah, that was the only thing that made sense.

She had even pushed the button to the ground floor, for whatever reason, seemed she wanted to make her encounter with them short and silent. If she even was intending to let them speak again later. Will did consider making the elevator even faster, but he couldn't be sure when to slow down. Last thing they needed was to get rammed into ground floor, smashed into the ceiling. It was tempting to try to scare her with it, but considering she had just cast one spell or something on them, who was to say she wouldn't react with another one?

Still staring at Medea, he sat down in the corner the furthest away from her, not feeling like getting closer to the clearly deranged woman. Besides, there was no way he could drink a red bull like this, and he was still sleepy, so it made him sullen and annoyed. And tired. Will frowned, and didn't look away from her, only thing he did was to pull Lucas a bit closer to himself, just in case.

Lucas looked at Medea, this seemed to be her doing, and she had done the same to his brother. He focused his shifting, first trying to create a second mouth, hoping he could open that, it seemed the spell still held that shut, seemingly by the lips. Considering this his lips fused together, leaving his face blank and mouthless, before generating a new mouth with no lips, practically a tear in his face, locked into a grimace with no lips to express with.

"What did you do?" he asked, trying to remain calm, his voice sounded strange and snarling, no doubt another result of his lack of lips. He was also quite certain that he looked angry with his teeth bared as they were.

Medea smiled under the the hoodie as the hex worked it magic on Lucas and Will, sealing their mouths tightly shut. The brothers would be quiet until she relinquished the hex's effect and she wouldn't have to listen to their blathering during the the short trip on the elevator; perhaps she should have chosen an spell to magically silence the brothers as they were still making noise through their sealed lips, it would however been more complicated and tiring. She needed her strength for the mission if she was going to try and interrogate some of the demons for Abigor's location.

"What did you do?" That was...Surprising. Whom she assumed was the elder brother had morphed his face, negating the hex by removing one of the required clauses of the spell: his lips. It was as his face had been slashed in half, leaving him almost monstrous looking, but who was she to judge. His words came out guttural and malformed, but she understood.

"I hexed you" She replied bluntly and left it at that, ignoring any other questions he may have.

She waited for the elevator to finish it's ascent and stepped out onto the ground floor releasing the spell.

"I hexed you"

Lucas shifted back as he saw the hex lift from Will, but grabbed her angrily by the shoulder as she walked out, "Don't you ever do that again," he said, more angry that she had hexed Will than himself, he remembered her quiet remark of 'noisy', and glared at her, "You can just ask us to be quiet if we're bothering you," he finished, letting go and resisting the urge to push or strike her.

he turned back towards Will, "You alright? I can ask the higher ups if you want, there's probably some punishment for hexing teammates or something," he said, wanting to be sure that there were no permanent effects, or that the hex had hurt him in some way. What a bitch he thought to himself, glancing back over his shoulder at her, wondering why anyone would act like that.

"You alright? I can ask the higher ups if you want, there's probably some punishment for hexing teammates or something."

Will stood up, but he shook his head at Lucas question. "She'd probably just get a warning. If I could, I'd throw her across the room. And I'm fine." His mouth felt odd still, but that was a result from it getting shut together for a while, probably not from the hexing. However, this meant that Will wouldn't get any breakfast nor energy drinks or anything.

Still, that woman couldn't just leave, could she? The way she had causally told them what she had done showed that she didn't feel bad about it at all. That annoyed him. He might not be able to throw her or anything at her, but she seemed to have a reason for that hoodie. Looking at Medea, her hood suddenly moved off her head, revealing whatever she was hiding underneath. Will couldn't be bothered to see what. He just wanted the whole room to see it.

"And now I'm great," he smirked, doing so had really cheered him up. "Just fantastic."

Haytham turned around and saw the hooded woman leave the elevator. Two disgruntled figures were in the elevator, obviously something had happened. If these were his teammates, then there wouldn't be much teamwork if people just glowered at each other. And that meant no camaraderie, which was a vital part of his merc group before he joined S.L.I.C.E., he sighed. From the look of the woman, he assumed that she was some sort of mage. They liked their mystic runes and markings a little too much for Haytham's taste. But he and his Division had been lumped with their lot, since they were so eager to show their support. Put enough bullets in a demon and they scarper, what that it? Did S.L.I.C.E have an ammo shortage? He smiled, if that was the case, at least he had most of it with him, the one person who could make good use of such things. The other military types here looked a little... green. Still carting most of the armory on his back, he walked over to her. "D6? I'm D2. Guess I'm gonna spent a lot of time with you~"

John walked out of his elevator and noticed that people were generally milling about. Which meant that the job wasn't starting yet. He walked over to a bench he saw and sat down on it. He checked the canteen attached to his mask, it was full at least. He pulled a ball bearing from his pocket, tossed it into the air and forced it to orbit his head. He needed to focus, this many people in this close a space... his mind wandering... it could be bad. He focused on the ball.

Her hood suddenly fell down. She suspected it was one of the brothers; the elder had powers so why not the younger. There was no chance of it being the wind, not inside at least, nor did any one else in the area harbour any hostile feelings towards her. The witch would keep an eye on them and give them what they deserved for the indignities they showed her. Nonchalantly, Medea raised the hood back up, once again covering her disfigured face.

"D6? I'm D2. Guess I'm gonna spent a lot of time with you~"

She nodded in response and walked over to one of the benches. There she waited for further information or commands.

"Mmmmmm... C'mon, c'mon." Unable to hold back a sigh, Lyra tapped her foot against the floor as she impatiently waited for the elevator doors to spring open. She could've sworn that she'd been standing in the same place, staring at the impassive metal plates, for a solid five minutes now; for crying out loud, just how long did it take for people to get to their floors?!

Ding

"Freaking finally," she muttered her breath, effortlessly hefting her backpack and the M95's carrying case. Irritably stomping her way into the enclosed space, the soldier slammed her fist against the ground floor's button, mumbling something unintelligible about technology and building codes. Then again, what did she really expect? It was obvious that the SLICE headquarters weren't quite finished yet; maybe putting in a halfway decent motor for the elevator was still on their list.

Her foot still tapping out a staccato beat, Lyra stared at the lights that ran across the top of the doorway, mentally counting down along with them. Three, two, one, annnnnnnnnnnnnd... There we go.

As the elevator shuddered to a halt and opened to the ground floor, Lyra stepped forward, making a conscious effort to keep a smile on her face. God, she was not a morning person...

04:42, Floor 7

For Lars, sleep could begin in a myriad of different ways. Generally, though, it always ended the same way.

... but yes, Lars, I will. Then silence, then consciousness.

Sitting up, out of his sleep, Lars awoke himself to consciousness and shook his head to life. Resting it in his hands to clear his head, Lars got out of bed and removed his damp shirt before checking the time. Lars remembered that he didn't have a timepiece in his room while locating a new shirt to wear, so he pulled on a fresh shirt and sat down on his bed to think over what to do next. He hadn't been informed of any new professional obligations, so he sat down again, this time in a chair, and laid his head back against the wall before contemplating how to kill the time.

When Lars awoke from his second nap this morning, there were no nightmares this time. However, this does not mean that his awakening was any less traumatic.

"Good morning, kiddos, today you get to head out for your first mission!"

Lars jerked up and out of the chair as the massive Irish voice struck him out his slumber. He dressed himself properly, in a general business outfit, and headed to the elevator, weaving through the exodus as much as his sleep-impaired self would let him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our mission today will require stealth and cunning."

Grumbling through the entire spiel, Lars immediately headed up to the ground floor without delay, hoping that he could grab as much sleep as possible in transit, but also because he needed nothing other than the clothes on his back. Well, maybe some more sleep.

It's be greatly appreciated if you ignore this redundant post.

James stood on the balcony, overlooking the recruits that had gathered there. Most, if not all, were standing around waiting, probably waiting for orders and transportation. Luckily, the "G- Man" had volunteered to give the next orders. All that was left was to sit around, eat some pie, and hope that the recruits don't die horribly.

"Get ready for mass teleportation in 3...-"

'Wait, what?' James leaned over the railing, green runes began glowing in the corners of the hall, becoming almost blinding.

"2..."

More runes, purple on the ground beneath every person, lit up as well. This seemed too planned, But James relaxed slightly.

'We have to know what we're doing, right?'

"1!" All the runes began crackling with energy, and then everything faded. Everyone was gone, in the blink of an eye. James sat, eyebrow cocked.

'Neat.'
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D2 & D6

Outside a Stadium, Gary IN

The two division heads were whispering to each other, talking about their plan of attack. The stadium seemed derelict, but one would be hard pressed to find a place that DIDN'T look that way. Words were echoing in the wind, yet were unitelligible, but laughter hung in the air. Finally, the leader of D6 sighed, turning and speaking to everyone in the crowd, a sensation members of D6 were at least slightly used to.

"Division 6, form around me, we'll need to make illusion spells. Remember to let Guerra's thick headed brutes lead the charge." Though his face was entirely unseen, most could tell he was smirking.
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D3 & D5

Outside a Warehouse, Gary IN

A heavily vandalized warehouse loomed in the distance, and all was quieter than around the stadium, and more tense. The surrounding woodlands were creepy, but would serve as decent cover and a hiding place.

"Fuckin' hell, I hate teleportation." the D3 head started, stretching his back, but was shut up immediately by the elf.

"We have a job to do. Then you can begin hitting people. D5! Wait around the perimeter, the dealers are on their way, and we have to keep 'em from meeting the demons. D3, just hide, and don't make too much noise. ESPECIALLY you, Pendragon." The D3 leader was about to say something, but the slow exhale smoke, quickly making the area seem foggy. Pendragon gave up, shrugging.

"You heard the elf, move out."

"Get ready for mass teleportation in 3...-" green runes appeared in each corner of the room
"What?"
"2..." a purple rune appeared under john, as well as everyone else
"Fuck."
"1!" The runes began crackling with energy
Shit. Shit. Shit. Then everything faded out.

John blinked rapidly and began coughing through his gas mask. The steel ball had dropped to the ground infront of him.
Once he had restabilized he pocketed the ball and looked around.

A heavily vandalized warehouse loomed in the distance and the area was quiet except for the others around him. The area was surrounded with woodlands, which was probably lucky, he wasn't sure though.

The D3 head spoke up "Fuckin' hell, I hate teleportation." he began stretching his back, but was quieted by an elf, someone that John didn't recognize.

The Elf spoke "We have a job to do. Then you can begin hitting people. D5! Wait around the perimeter, the dealers are on their way, and we have to keep 'em from meeting the demons. D3, just hide, and don't make too much noise. ESPECIALLY you, Pendragon."

The D3 head (Pendragon?) spoke again "You heard the elf, move out."

John looked around for a place to set up, his mind was too screwed up from the teleport to think of someplace creative so he wandered into the woodlands. He went behind a particularly thick tree and pulled his rifle out of it's sling. Having a sane thought finally he began to mentally block out his image within a few feet.

"Division 6, form around me, we'll need to make illusion spells. Remember to let Guerra's thick headed brutes lead the charge."

Will watched as many of the other D6 people gathered around the man, but he didn't move himself. They had been teleported here somehow, and he didn't really like it. Wouldn't it be better to prepare for the illusion magic before they got there? He sighed. "What about us non-spell D6? I'd hardly call myself a thick headed brute," Will muttered. Lucas might fit the brute description a bit better, but of the two, Lucas was definitely the smart one. Will saw himself as more the clever type, if one distinguished between the two as he did. He was good at thinking out of the box, at least, bad at thinking inside it, creative rather than orderly. He then realized he was rambling in his mind.

"Does that even matter? Of course it doesn't. Damn that witch for not letting me get something to wake up a little with, not my fault if I accidentally forget to help her, should she need it."

Of course, he didn't mean it. Nope. Not at all. Not a single tiny bit. After all, she seemed frail, and unable to protect herself if she had to. "Lucas, don't forget to be my meat shield, okay?" he said, thinking about that had made him more anxious for himself than anything else.

"Lucas, don't forget to be my meat shield, okay?"

Lucas nodded, smiling slightly, turning towards their leader he asked "Anything I should shift into to hide better?"

He had no illusions, and while he supposed he could change his skin to camouflage he doubted he would be very useful in hiding the group. He felt almost as if he belonged more with the grunts charging the place, but then no matter what he would be here to protect his brother.

He glanced around at the others, so many unfamiliar faces, though there were a few he recognized from last night. In particular he wondered what Medea would be doing on the operation, he couldn't really judge her for her scars considering how he looked when he used his powers, and while he still felt that her actions had been downright bitchy he wondered how much she had suffered to get such scars, and almost felt bad for her. Almost.

"Anything I should shift into to hide better?"

The man in the purple hoodie cocked his head to the side.

"Yes, can you keep up a pair of tiny horns? Demons seem to love those. A pointy tail is also in season lately... What is your name, again, Brother or Will?" The last part was a whisper, and for a biref second the face behind the mask was visible, grinning widely, with crazed orange eyes. It wasn't too unlike a shark.

"I'm Zeke." He turned around on his heel, "As for you, Will, line up for an illusion spell...."

"As for you, Will, line up for an illusion spell...."

Assuming this man knew that Will couldn't use spells, he went in line behind the D2 people, and the D6 who couldn't cast these kinds of spells either. However, he did look at Lucas, did this mean they wouldn't be able to team up? That would be kind of a waste. They were a good team, after all. Not only because they were brother, but they covered each other weaknesses fairly well, and knew how the other thought and acted, and what they could do. And Lucas made sure Will didn't mess up, again. He frowned, he wasn't sure what to think about the man in the purple hood. He didn't know why the man knew his name, apart from Merlin letting it be known, but one would think he'd know Lucas' as well. It felt off.

"He said his name was Zeke, right? I don't know if I trust him." Then again, he didn't really trust Merlin either. For all he knew, it would be some kind of test, or trick. After all, the fact that Lucas wasn't offered the same deal had managed to make Will a bit cautious about it.

"Yes, can you keep up a pair of tiny horns? Demons seem to love those. A pointy tail is also in season lately... What is your name, again, Brother or Will?"

"Lucas, and yeah I can manage that, not sure my pants would work right with a tail though," he said, quickly forming a pair of horns on his head, he didn't bother with the tail, but after a moments thought gave his skin a slight reddish tint.

"This good?" he asked, watching Will out of the corner of his eye, he wanted to be able to recognize him even after they put the illusion on him.

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