The Guild [Viv & Red Beret]

[Viv]

We’re both independents with skills and quite a laundry list of sins behind us. We’ve been offered a position within an infamous guild and its one we just can’t pass up. We are eventually paired together and don’t work too well as partners because we are both untrusting and competitive. This one would have lots of killing, violence, cussing – everything good in life. Kidding. We can create hits and build this one as we go.

Let's drop in our CS. I know yours is basically together, so just drop it in here. Let's go with...

Name:
Age:
Appearance:
Brief History:

We'll talk a little about structure together and then get rolling.

[Red Beret]

Hope this is good for you.

Name: Ted Lowsky

Age: 34

Appearance:
Lowsky doesn't make for an intimidating figure... standing at just under six feet, he's tall enough, but his lanky frame and lax demeanor tell the story of a person who might go down easy in a fight, who doesn't show much professionalism in his line of work. His eyes, however, tell a different story, constantly searching, fixing on anything that might be a clue or might indicate danger.

He isn't a bad-looking fellow, if a little rough. His thin jaw is painted with an almost-permanent five-o'clock shadow, his thick dark hair usually disheveled, when it isn't slicked back in an almost sleazy fashion... when it's not completely hidden under a hat, that is. His gray eyes are almost always hidden by a pair of mirrored aviators, which sit awkwardly on his thin, slightly crooked nose.

The aviators serve a purpose, of course... they hide his ever-searching eyes and mask the short scar that runs parallel to his right ear. He doesn't like to talk about it, but it looks like somebody clubbed him with a brick when he wasn't looking.

His specialty lies in long-distance killing, and he prefers to dispatch his targets through a scope rather than face-to-face. That's not to say that his skills with short-range combat are lacking, as long as you don't expect him to go hand-to-hand. His lanky frame is quite excellent for dodging fists, but he lacks the... oompf to do much fist-fighting of his own.

Brief History:
Lowsky was born as Theodore Mitchell, raised in Oklahoma, and had a rather normal childhood. His father was the first to teach him to shoot, and when he joined the military, they taught him how to kill. Lowsky became a combat sniper, and was eventually recruited to perform more... specialized missions. He quickly became disillusioned with working for the government, and decided to bail out.

He was unable to shake his past, and soon found that his skills were marketable. He earned a small fortune as an assassin, taking lives with neither pride nor passion, but found that he enjoyed being his own boss more than taking orders from a suit in Washington. His military discipline slowly faded, but the skills he'd learned over the years did not. He continued to take jobs until he found that he had enough to retire on.

He chose one of several new identities, and Ted Lowsky arrived in New York looking to start over... but it's never that easy, is it? The Guild approached him with an offer that he might have refused... if they hadn't produced ample material to ruin his life for good. With his accounts frozen and naught but his old Mini to his name, Ted prepared himself for a new start in an old business...

[Viv]

Name: Alexandra Dumont

Age: 29

Appearance:



5’7’’ Long brown hair, green eyes, 130lbs. Body is lean and slightly cut from working out so much, but still curvy where it should be. She had several tattoos, which can be seen in the photo.

History: Alex grew up in a loving family, her father a business man of sorts, her mother remaining at home to raise her and her older sister. A business deal gone bad one day ended with her father getting shot at point blank and his partners coming to her house, raping and murdering her mother and older sister while she watched, tucked away in an old laundry hamper.

She was a product of being raised in many different orphanages, never really belonging to anyone but herself. She finished school and began to train, her whole world revolved around revenge and finally when she was ready, she obtained it, killing all those involved in her family’s murders. She was quickly picked up by several anonymous clients to perform extraction work for them and she became quite skilled at her craft.

She is better with hand to hand combat, only carrying a glock at her back and a switch blade against her tight. She's been trained in martial arts and self-defense and though a small woman, she's learned to use someone's weight and momentum against them. Having lost everything that ever mattered to her, she's heartless and fearless. There isn't anything she won't try at least once - especially if it allows her to get her hands dirty.

[Red Beret]

Looks good to me.

I don't want to step on toes or anything--you said you wanted to start us off, and I don't know what you've got planned, but I'm not one to idle and make my partners do all the work, haha.

It could be considered cliche, but what if we were assigned to go after a rogue member of the Guild? It doesn't have to be straight-up "Here's the guy, go after him," but our characters could stumble upon information pertaining to said rogue agent while hunting down another target, like a black market weapons dealer or someone in a smiliar profession?

That would also give our characters a challenging opponent to go up against, someone who's just as good--if not better--than they are, and could really force them to work together in the end.

[Viv]

(That is a great idea... Let's start out by getting ourselves involved in the guild and meeting one another and then we can work up to something important like that - sound good? I'm going to have a side story going on with her that she'll have to take care of on the side. I make mention of it in my post below. Not my best, but I'm fucking beat. That side story will bleed into our story and can bother you or you can assist - it's of a personal nature. )



Alexandra finished zipping her thigh high stiletto black boots, their sleek appeal blending in with the rest of her outfit for the night. They wind was a welcomed distraction as she drove through the city on her bike, its purring a calming reprieve for her. She stopped when she’d reached her destination and climbed off the bike, pulling her long brown locks into a high ponytail to complete the façade.

Alex looked at her phone, 10th and Jones. She rotated her neck from side to side. She knew she'd have to join the guild soon, but she was hoping for one more independent kill first. She walked quickly through the dilapidated streets of New York City, her blood pumping, adrenaline tasting like liquid candy dancing along her senses. She loved to kill and was damn good at it.

She turned the corner and saw the yovak gang leaning against the wall. She looked back at the text and pressed more. Yellow Jersey.

Ahhhh, she thought. Only one of them. Smiling, she walked up to him, "Hey baby... looking for a good time?"

He smiled back, "Of course." He laughed and nodded to his friends. She gave him a quick look-over and walked in front of him to an alley way about 100 yards from his brother members. He didn't even get around the corner good before she scissor kicked him and flipped around to break his neck. His body slumped and she pulled it into the alley, walking slowly out the other exit. She texted back, "Done. record time. Don't forget the 'bad ass' bonus." She laughed and headed to her apartment.

Freelancing was her life, but knowing that she had a million dollar hit out on her because of Marcus' death meant she needed a few associates, acquaintances that wore her colors on the field. She thought she heard the quiet pop of a gun as she was leaving, but being on this side of town thought nothing of it.

She went home, showered and changed, turning on the tube and sinking down into her couch with a bucket of ice cream. Tomorrow would be a new start and she for one wasn’t looking forward to it one bit.

[Red Beret]

(Haha, it's fine. Lowsky will probably see it as a distraction at first, but depending on how well things go, he might be willing to help her with her problems in the end. I'm going to say that Ted's already involved with the Guild, since they recruited him right off the plane in his backstory.

Now, we can go with the "surprise, we hired two of you to go after this guy" approach, where they're working against each other toward the same goal, or we can have them officially paired up. Or, you know, anything in between. I am going to let you take this one, but don't worry, I can roll with whatever you decide.)


"Son of a bitch."

Lowsky's drawl betrayed the fact that he wasn't from around here... he'd learned three different languages in his life, and the drawl crept into all of them. It made his French sound horrible, his Farsi sound sarcastic, and his Russian out-of-place. It was the price one paid for his upbringing, and he supposed he had his father to thank for more than just his aiming skills.

Of course, none of that was important at the moment--the man Lowsky was supposed to be killing was doing a rather good job of not being dead... or in any position to be killed, for that matter. Lowsky ran after him, his long legs quickly closing the distance between himself and his adversary.

The city was chock full of alleyways, places where one could quickly lose a pursuer if only he was clever enough. Out of sheer, dumb blind luck, Lowsky's prey was not the clever type, settling for making noise instead of trying to use the darkness of the night to his advantage. Though it wasn't difficult to follow, Lowsky couldn't help but think that he wasn't being paid enough for this much work. He hadn't actually had to run this far since his days in Basic, and he was starting to feel it. Luckily, the idiot he was chasing solved this dilemma by tripping over an overturned trashcan.

Lowsky was on him, the sleek .40 drawn in an instant. The target's feeble attempt to crawl away made it clear that he'd banged a knee on the hard concrete. It was pathetic, really. Lowsky felt a sense of revulsion well up in his stomach... could he really pull the trigger on this... this nobody?

Bang.

The man's blood shimmered slightly in the faint light as it spilled from his head. It had been an unceremonious kill, but it had proved a point. Lowsky could pull the trigger on a pathetic excuse for a gang-banger, if it meant that he could keep his freedom. The cash wouldn't hurt, either.

A motorcycle revved up somewhere in the night as Lowsky's figure was swallowed up by the darkness. The police would surely find the man, but they'd never find the killer. The pistol was registered to one Richard Doulle... a man who had never existed.

Lowsky's employers had seen to that.

[Viv]

Alexandra woke the next morning, slipping into running clothes and tennis shoes and walking toward the front door, pulling her hair into a high ponytail. She walked out into the morning sun and smiled, pressing play on her ipod, Lincoln Park coming to life and filling her with the desire to run until she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She picked up a good pace and worked up a great sweat, letting the world around her paint her mood.

After an hour or so, she made her way back to the apartment and took a quick shower, dressing in slack and a button down crimson silk blouse. She finished getting ready and grabbed a mug of coffee and a protein bar on her way out the door. She looked at her bike and thought about taking it for a moment, but decided against it. First impressions were everything. She slipped into her bmw and drove to the location she was given when contracted through a private investor to meet with the leaders of the guild.

She made good time and arrived at the compound fifteen minutes early, slipping from her car and walking into the large facility. In front of her were several small offices, but to her left was a trainers dream. She walked to the opening of the gym and just gazed in. It had to have been the largest workout area with numerous obstacle courses, machines and floor mats. She couldn't help but smile as she stood dumb founded, dreaming of the possibilities of pressing her skills to the limit in a controlled environment.

The gym was one point in favor of her joining, but she'd have to assess the positives and negatives at the end of the day and then make her decision. Working with others was never one of her strengths and she doubted that'd be changing today.

[Red Beret]

It wasn't elegant or altogether roomy, but perhaps that's what made the old Mini perfect for Lowsky's purposes. Though not a common vehicle, it was nonetheless inconspicuous in a world where people expected dark SUVs with tinted windows driven by men in black. The little white hatchback was not all that it seemed, however--Lowsky had paid a pretty penny to have it... tweaked.

Compartments throughout the vehicle hid the various bits and pieces of Lowsky's Remington MSR, which he kept disassembled for the sake of storage. When it was assembled, though, it was a mean little number, capable of effectively icing a target up to fifteen hundred meters away, and wasn't bad for quick work, but he prefered larger rifles, like the Barrett M82, which allowed for more rapid engagement, and at longer distances.

Unfortunately, the larger rifles weren't exactly feasible to transport. Lowsky managed to get around this during long-term missions by buying a rifle locally, then selling or destroying it once the mission had been completed. So far, none of the sales had made it back to him, and he intended to keep it that way. He had a little black book of dealers and contractors who had proven themselves to be trustworthy, and he only sold to people within that book.

Lowsky wasn't too worried about his rifles, though. The Mini had picked up a nail or something on his way back to the Compound, and he was busy changing the tire. The street was somewhat busy, and he'd had to pull the Mini far up onto the sidewalk in order to give himself enough working room. So focused on the job at hand was he that he didn't pay any attention to the dark SUV with the tinted windows that pulled up alongside him.

"Car troubles, Ted?"

Lowsky gave a start and turned around to see the face of his handler, a balding man whom he knew only as Xavier.

"Yeah, you could say that," Lowsky replied, keeping his tone casual. He glanced around--Xavier had never actually met him on the street before, and he didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Well, I'll have someone take care of it," Xavier said, "You've got more pressing matters than a flat tire at the moment."

"Oh?"

"Climb in," Xavier said, motioning to the door as he moved over to make room. Lowsky stood, then with one last look at his beloved little car, entered Xavier's SUV. The window rolled up and the vehicle started forward. Lowsky knew better than to ask about it--the Guild always provided when it needed to.

"This is going to be a bitter pill for you, Ted," Xavier said, producing a moderately thick dossier from his black leather attaché case. Lowsky glanced at the folder, interested in the name on it, and he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Mahmoud al-Jira was one of Lowsky's preferred weapons dealers, even had a star by his name in Lowsky's little black book. A bitter pill, indeed. Lowsky wondered how much the Guild knew about his dealings with the man. Xavier's face might as well have been a blank stone wall, for all the information it betrayed, but he seemed to be aware that there was a previous relation between the two.

"You'll be happy to know that we don't want him dead," Xavier said as Lowsky took the dossier, "We need information from him. Unfortunately, if he's not willing to cooperate..."

"Yeah, I know."

If a target the Guild wanted alive wasn't willing to cooperate, the Guild asset assigned to the job would have to dispatch the target and obtain whatever hard information was available. This usually involved swiping a phone, a laptop, a box or boxes of paper files--et cetera--and returning them to the Compound for one of the desk jockeys to sort through. Lowsky rarely had to do any data retrieval himself.

"This is a priority case... we chose you because you've got a working relationship with the guy, and we may also have felt just a little bit bad about making you run down street punks."

"Anyone else assigned to the case?"

"Always a possibility," Xavier said, "You know how these things work."

"Model of efficiency."

"Sometimes," Xavier said, giving that trademark grin of his.

[Viv]

The sound of a man clearing his throat caused her to turn, pulling her bag a bit closer to her body. She lifted her chin and watched him, waiting for him to speak first. She was a woman of few words until she knew someone a bit better. People often forgot in the middle of rambling that perhaps everything was able to roll off your tongue was not necessarily beneficial for others to know about you.

"Alexandra Dumont, I presume." The older man crossed his aged hands in front of his long black robe and nodded at her.

"Yes, I'm still trying to discern whether I'm going to become a member of the guild, my mind is yet to be made up." She said and laid her bag on the floor, her weapons and a change of clothes were always brough with her. She never knew where she'd end up and being prepared was imparative.

"You've already made your decision." He chuckled a bit at her look of defiance. "Women like you do not waste time in making a decision without doing lots of research before ever gracing the door with your presence."

"Touche." She said and picked up her bag, "Now that we've moved past the plesantries, what is next on the agenda?"

"You might have decided to join us, but we will need to test you with a mission before we accept you fully. Consider yourself on probation." He walked down a long hall and she followed him, more than confident in her own abilities. She'd pass there test.

"And what would this test consist of?" She said, taking in everything and noting all of the exits in the immediate surrounding. She was prepared for anything at all times.

"You'll be meeting with Xavier and he will pair you up with one of our best. His assessment of your skills and your ability to complete the task in the allotted time will be the test." He stopped in front of a door and opened it with a quick tap to a number combonation on the wall. He held the door open, "Make yourself comfortable. Xavier will be here shortly."

It looked like a longue, but being in a locked room with one door that opened from the outside was not something she was thrilled about - at all.

[Red Beret]

"You wanna run that by me again?"

"Come on, Ted, don't be like that," the exasperation in Xavier's voice was clear as day, but Lowsky merely sat with his arms crossed, eyes on his handler. Xavier frowned at him, then heaved a sigh.

"Look, don't give me that tired old bullshit. I know you prefer to work alone, but you're gonna have to grow up sometime, champ."

"This isn't a two-man job."

"No, technically it isn't."

Lowsky searched Xavier's face, trying to see what he was getting at. He hadn't worked with a partner since his days as a combat sniper, and only then his partner was a spotter. Lowsky hadn't needed a spotter in years, and even if he did, the Guild wasn't exactly in the business of assigning spotters to their assassins. It would be a waste of Guild resources when snipers could merely find a spotter or call in a favor of their own, if they had one.

"I can go after al-Jira more effectively by myself."

"Ted, this is not a matter of debate," Xavier said as the SUV pulled into the Compound's garage, "The Guild has assigned you a partner, you'll evaluate and give your recommendation, and you'll be grateful for the opportunity to do so."

Lowsky raised an eyebrow and Xavier's frown deepened, "Don't get smart, Ted. You should be honored that your opinion matters."

Lowsky bit his tongue, knowing that he was at the end of Xavier's patience and taking this any further would only make his life more miserable.

He'd just have to suck it up and meet the new guy.


--


Xavier parted ways with Lowsky at an intersection in one of the Compound's many corridors. Ted was no doubt heading to the gun range to mull things over, and Xavier was fine with that. Ordinarily, he liked to introduce partners to each other at the briefing, but Ted could be... difficult. He'd been a lone wolf for so long, and some of the events in his profile could only have reinforced his code of independence. Xavier had only skimmed, but he'd seen enough to know that Ted had constructed some pretty thick walls around that tiny, shriveled heart of his.

He didn't know how Ted's sanity had survived his time in Paris, and he didn't want to. That was a can of worms that never needed to be opened.

"Mr. X!"

Xavier's assistant, a younger girl named Madeline, came up alongside him, holding a stack of paperwork. On top was the Guild's dossier for one Alexandra Dumont.

Alexandra Dumont. She'd been tough to find, always staying below the radar and at least one step ahead of Guild recruiters, but they'd finally caught her when she stuck her neck out just a little too far. It was never easy to find voluntary agents, and the Guild preferred somebody with a little dirt, like Ted, whose service was all but guaranteed. Voluntary agents needed incentive, confirmation, all that positive malarky that was the mark of a "good" employer.

Luckily, the Guild had plenty of incentives to offer, including advanced training opportunitities, obstacle courses, firing ranges, and perhaps most importantly, connections.

"Thank you, Maddy... is she ready for me?"

"She's waiting in Room 205, Mr. X."

"Very good."

Madeline broke off and headed back down the hall, and Xavier made his way to where Alexandra was waiting. He paused for a moment at the door, then keyed in the code.

"Greetings, Ms. Dumont," he said, giving her a flashy grin, "Welcome to the Guild..."