The Key -IC-

The OOC

The dusty metallic house made groaning sounds as it kept itself up using sheer strength. The maintenance systems had unfortunately been take away due to the recent pulse. The large dinning room, a long, fashionable silver dinning table placed directly center, was lit by candlelight; the metal walls reflected the dancing sparks beautifully. They ran up and down the linoleum floors and into the small green gem which was settled into the side of the table. The flames, as if little flies, would fly into the faces of the people present. The party of five sat around the table in comfortable, high dinning chairs. Gen, Jack, Kristopher, Geoff, and Kaminari sat in that order. On the table sat a freshly roasted pork, various salads sat around it and a fresh pot of rice steamed at the side. A gravy like sauce sat next to it. It'd all been cooked by Geoff.

He sat with his legs crossed underneath the table, glass in hand, bent forward listening to the conversation. His bald head shimmered in the soft fire light as the red light raced across his light brown eyes every few moments. He brought his cup to his face and drank some of the wine which was in it. The cup was made of glass but it was short, very much like something you would drink alcohol out of; it was also glazed so it was a milky white. Geoff put his glass down and smiled at what something Jack had just finished saying. The group had been drinking all night, celebrating the life of the Doctor, and the conversation had gotten to nostalgia.

A few nights before a group of what seemed like marauders entered the apartment and slew Doctor Philips in cold blood. He was relatively healthy, he could still walk and everything was perfectly normal, right on track. The marauders shocked the whole place with a full scale assault. Geoff and Jack weren't there, they'd gone out for supplies. Everyone back in the apartment had either been immediately taken over or eventually brought down by sheer numbers. The marauders left as quick as they came. Gen, Kristopher, and Kaminari were brused up and had, understandably felt terrible about it. The reality of the situation was Geoff wasn't sure if him being there would have made a difference. This was clearly an organized assassination and if they wanted the Doctor dead, they would have him dead. They just weren't good enough yet. It would take time.

Geoff refocused on his plate of food and cut a few pieces of meat before picking up some gravy lathered rice and stuffing the full fork in his mouth. He chewed voraciously and then swallowed the sweet meat and tasty rice. He washed the food down with some wine and then spoke.

"Dr. Philips was quite the man. I think it's safe to say he will hold a special place in all of our hearts. But now, all we have is each other. We need to finish this project. We need to get Dr. Philips' dream off the ground and into action. I also think we might have to take out the guys who killed the Doctor. They will be coming after us. If we want to get out of this alive, we'll need to get them first." He felt the mood drop and everything became a little less fun. He felt bad for it but it had to be done. "We'll check in the local towns later today when we go out for equipment. The Doctor left us a budget for the mission and we need to get some stuff before we head out. I imagine there are questions so I'll just take them now." He sat back in his chair with his legs crossed and drink in hand. "Pencils and papers out, ladies and gentlemen."

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Jack Grimsem

Nothing for us to do tonight but drink all the wine, eat all the food, and spend existence with some damn good people. The thought drove Jack neatly into two glasses of alcohol along with a healthy serving of rice, pork, and greens. The attack on the apartment had resulted in only minor damage to the structure, but the team was changed forever. Without Doctor Philips it was doubtful that the project would be completed; at least, that's what Jack thought as he traded stories with the people seated at the table. Now's not the time for mourning or plotting vengeance. Now is to celebrate what the Doctor did, or at least hope to do.

He remembered returning to the apartment with Geoff, supplies in tow, returning to obvious signs of breaking, entry, fighting, and death. From that moment, the Courier cursed the need for food, fuel, maps, and other necessities. They should have been there, defending each other like Gen, Kristopher, and Kaminari had done. He had no idea how many assailants had invaded but the odds would have been better if there been a full compliment at the apartment. All these thoughts Jack buried down, beneath the wine and a smile. The last thing anyone needed to do at this time was to have a nervous breakdown or drop into a terribly inconvenient berserker rage.

Geoff's interlude broke Jack out of his conversation with the others, bringing his focus to Dr. Philips' second in command. Up till now, he'd only heard bits and pieces of this 'project' from the balding man before and from the other...operatives. He'd taken to calling them that in his mind. Most of them with the exception of Geoff and the medic, Kristopher, were still too new to call friends and what they were doing required more trust than the name 'acquaintance' would allow. Behind him, Jack reached into the messenger bag that was draped on his chair and fished out his pen and notebook.

Wordlessly, he shifted the still full plate of food to the side, though he kept the glass of wine within easy reach. The faded, water stained volume had a crackling sound to it as the stiff pages cycled through to a blank one. The pen, a 'clicky top' was a rarity, the means of mass production having been lost many years ago, was a find from an early run. It served well, though finding a portable form of writing once the pack of 10 ran dry would be a problem in the future. Inwardly, Jack snickered at the possibility of being 'on the job' long enough for the pens to run out. More or less meant he'd be married to the job and lucky enough to live through it. Couriers as a whole, even they were good and didn't take risks, had short life spans. And now it looks like this mission might just shorten that even more... Jack took a long drink from the wine ...terrific...

"What is this project designed to do?" The Courier asked in a neutral tone once Geoff had finished with his introduction. "So far, all I've been told are generalities and pick up/drop off locations for packages," Jack continued with a hint of understanding in his voice. At first, the secrecy irked him, made him vocally object a handful of times but each time he was convinced it was in his best interest. Now, given the recent attack, handing out details on the project on a 'need to know' pacing seemed correct. After all, only the Doctor was killed. Had everyone been brought in, it was perfectly possible all six of them would have been silenced.

Gen Moretti

Dr. Phillips' death was a heavy blow to everyone, and right this moment none of them were prepared to deal with how his murder will affect their plans; their hopes and dreams for the future. The bonds, tightly nit with the help of Dr. Phillips, were still intact. In fact, this unfortunate event helped to reinforce them. They're a family, a rather dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless, who swore to protect each other through the harsh, and sometimes unfair, curve balls life pitches at break-neck speeds.

Gen was enjoying the food, so much that she wouldn't even take a second to breathe between shovels of pork and rice she stuffed in her mouth. It was only after her plate had been completely emptied of its delicious content that she began to engage in conversations with the others. Her wine, however, had remained untouched. As Geoff brought up the Doctor's name, everyone demeanor, including her own changed. Just like a winter breeze creeping in the room; unannounced and certainly uninvited.

The officer lowered her gaze on her empty plate, as he fingers dances around the foot of her wine glass. Wine's for celebrating. She stood up abruptly, glass in hand and emptied its contents into Jack's cup, witch was almost empty. Without uttering a word, Gen picked up her plate and made her way to the kitchen. After laying her dirty dishes on the counter, she crouched down where an unmarked box lay. She opened it and pulled out a single beer bottle. The bottle too, was naked. This was home brewed mead at its finest, but the brunette couldn't take the credit for this delicious concoction.

Gen occupied her seat at the table once again, grabbing hold of a clean spoon to pry the bottle cap off of the rim of the bottle, and finally flicking the lose cap away her thumb. The cap fell on the table with a clunk. Chocolate brown eyes followed its movement, as it rolled around the table for a few seconds before it settled down, falling onto its back. The woman chugged half of her beer as she took a single sheet of paper that had been folded in the front pocket of her white button up shirt.

Beer still in hand, she flattened out the paper on the table and then grabbed a pencil from her jean's right pocket. Gen began writing, but paid little attention to the people around her.

http://i.imgur.com/MDGl6sN.png

I put Kitten in quotes on my CS because even though it's a nick name, it's the main name the character was going to go by......you know, like Nicole "Coco" Austin. Everyone calls her "Coco", not Nicole. lols (oddly enough, that was the only comparison i could think of on the spot! xD)

Her mind couldn't help but drift away from the table as she remembered the incident only a few nights ago. It was the furthest thing from a fair fight, which irked Kitten, and for several hours following the ambush all she could do was replay things over and over again in her head. In reality she knew there was nothing more any of them could of done, but in her heart she felt as if everyone could of tried harder, and that feeling would still be lingering around as she slowly ate the food in front of her while listening to Geoff.


As the conversing went on Kittens demeanor stayed rather flat, and she'd drink her whiskey from a hot pink water bottle that partially matched her outfit, which consisted of a burgundy dress with a hot pink floral print pleather corset with brass grommets and hot pink lacing atop it, along with brown and burgundy belts. Her feet on the other hand were bare as usual when indoors, and showcased her freshly painted pink toes.

"Pencils and papers out, ladies and gentlemen" said Geoff, but since Kitten had an eidetic memory there was no need for her to pull out such things, her mind was a notepad and her memories a pencil or pen. So even though she appeared to be detached from the situation around her, she was actually playing close attention as Jack let out the first in likely a series of questions.
"What is this project designed to do?" he'd ask as soon as silence began to take over the group. "So far, all I've been told are generalities and pick up/drop off locations for packages....."

Kitten would let the quietness that followed his question linger for a bit before spitting out one of her own.
"Better yet, when can we go after the people who murdered Jefferson, bitched slapped the three of us here, and then ran off before a fair fight could even be had."
Her tone managed to stay rather cool and soft even though anger was fueling her words, an instead of slamming a clenched fist to the table like such a statement might prompt, she simply took a drink from her water bottle before clearing her throat.
"Don't get me wrong, I know that recklessly going in for a revenge massacre would be foolish, I'm far more level headed than that, however at the same time I believe we should go after these people as soon as possible and carry out an ambush of our own making, you know, catch them completely off guard."