[IC] NEOTOKYO: State of Disarray [Open]

[Jeep Wrangler]

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August 29th, 2031AD. As the year of the volatile world, NeoTokyo had found itself collapsed into a secret state of disarray. Amidst the prosperous exterior view of the city, where its bright lights, egotistical tourist attractions, vibrant streets and bustling individuals all move along with the development of their home, lies a strong musk that stains the city alleys. Across the levels of carparks, street levels, shopping centres, nuclear exclusion zones, service stations, banks, homes, homeless quarters and other foundations of the urban metropolis comes the war that had been raging for nearly two years. People had died, whilst others didn't even know why. Thousands had been purged in the line of a new, sophisticated and stable rulership over Japan. Whilst other cities found themselves facing minor scourges over the same course of this blistering war, its true battleground was there in NeoTokyo. Many terrified individuals feared that something bigger than their lives was shaping the stability of society as a whole, but no one could truly pinpoint its extent. The Jinrai , attempting to force its way into the Governmental council had now taken refuge in every conceivable stronghold in the city. On the opposing force, the National Security Force, otherwise known as the NSF, had established a militarised policing force in order to secretly combat their influence. Primarily segmented into cyber-security, enforced investigation and covert operational raids, the NSF are equipped, trained and handled just well enough to combat and match that of the Jinrai's military expertise. Whilst most of the war is silent, hidden behind a veil of wiring, flashy lights and traditional shrines and temples, larger scale engagements have been recorded and seen by the public on occasions that act most unfavourable for each side involved. Truly, it wasn't just a battle for survival, but a war for Japan in its entirety.

As one would travel through the main centre of NeoTokyo, the grand compound of the Governmental facilities sits right in the middle, surrounded by great concrete walls, patrolling officers of the law and situating the homestead of Prime Minster Konno Mashai. Only a year into his term, he'd made a name for himself for publicly condemning and dispersing the infamous Jinrai division after political dissonance had apparently threatened his life. Unfortunately, for his attackers and conspirators, the soft looking and eagerly kind-hearted individual was indeed a hard hitting individual with a long determination to bring about his ideology in full force. There was no backing away from the breach of conduct in the political landscape. Japan was going to be fought over, and Mashai was prepared to give his all into funding the extermination of the terrorists who wished to force Japan into a state of war. It seemed very black and white, with the good guys and bad guys being clearly marked with a sticker plastered onto their cybernetic foreheads, but of course the world was always a little less clear than the common man could anticipate. And so, the NSF was formed out of an elite policing organisation previously known only to the highest officials. Now, the NSF were a known threat to the Jinrai themselves, as the conflict has uproared into a flame and fury that was unavoidable.

Beneath the governmental institution laid the NSF headquarters. A mile of underground tunnels, war rooms, barracks, armouries, firing ranges, gyms and occasional luxuries was for the well-being of each of their operatives, who all were ensured to be rewarded handsomely for their service to the state and Minister himself. The NSF was hoping to becoming the changer of Japan's future. A recent inclusion of exterior recruits contacted primarily by NSF individuals after they expressed interest conventionally. Many of the members lived on base, but some were even offered alternative egos and places of residence within Japan itself, at the cost of a termination programme. Any information caught being supplied to the Jinrai, or operatives that were at a threat of information extraction without any hope of rescue were to be assassinated by one of their own in order to preserve the intelligence perfection of the NSF's inner-workings. Some of the Operatives had suffered greatly from this experience, and so the inclusion of international recruits had seen a small rise in the recent months.

Down the corridors, Takai walked forward with his hands clasped around a file. Beside him, the clattering of a cybernetic arm stretching and shifting beneath the rolled up sleeve of his superior. Takai wasn't exactly the ideal soldier here in the NSF, having found himself become a part of it before it officially donned the three-letter acronym. However, what he had was respect and and appreciation amongst his common comrades, at least the ones who knew him well enough. Those around him were keen to work with each other, and the regular shift of investigation partners, raiding teams and reconnaissance parties was accepted in order to increase the trust of every operative, especially the trust they should have in each other as well as themselves. Iha Shumei, the Company Officer recently promoted from his regular non-commissioned role in the gritty part of the NSF warfare group. Across his eyes, the overly familiar glimmer of his permanent headgear always made him instantly recognisable compared to his comrades, only amplified by the addition of his prosthetic limb on the left arm. He wore the suave attire of a intelligence officer, more akin to that of a police detective or private investigation's officer. As he wandered, Takai read the files further and further. Sure, he'd heard of most of those written down on the file, and even knew some quite well from their previous involvement, but his knowledge of their personalities was limited and potentially deprived of a full enhancement. More to the point, the names he read did seem a little...alien, to the NSF.

"Andrews...O'Connell...Duke...Black...Bell? I heard we'd outsourced our members, Shumei, but this is rather precarious." In a loud mutter, Takai questioned the reasoning behind these non-Japanese individuals, clearly highlighted by their names and mugshots. Alongside them sat names that he found at least recognisable. Li was one of them, though she too was an outsider to the Japanese nativity. From what he'd heard, she was a capable asset, though his knowledge was once again limited beyond personal experience. Takai had previously been an operative of solitariness, pursuing a life in Investigations whilst only occasionally participating in the engagements with teams of heavily armed personnel. Those were where the true battle was being fought, and Takai was still adjusting to find his footing in the field of the NSF operations.

"If you have a problem, Shushen, then I'd rather you think about it a bit more." Of course, playing the diplomatic man again. Takai did utilise his methods quite a lot himself, but when it came down to personal belief Takai had to put his foot into the room to solidify who he was as an individual.

"It's not them being from another country that disappoints me, Shumei, it's the fact that they are highly unlikely to be loyal to the cause. I'm not asking for patriotism, but working alongside individuals who don't see any benefit in the outcome of this war for Japan is daunting. It will take me a long time to adjust, maybe." Immediately, his thought process was interjected by the smile of his officer, smirking immensely to compliment his lack of emotion from his eyes. If his mouth wasn't exposed from his eyepiece, it would've been impossible to truly tell what the man was conveying through his voice.

"You seem to get along with Yi and Bykov at least, and they clearly aren't from Japan." Takai didn't respond at first, finding himself smirk at his quip too. He wasn't wrong at all. Out of his new company, Takai had interacted with Yi and Bykov the most so far. Whilst the latter was slightly harder due to a sort of gritty politeness in her tone, he was indeed aware of who they were and what kind of person they might've been. He wanted to press more into his intentions and interactions with his comrades, however the selection was so far more of a circus than that of a military police outfit.

Takai closed the folder and sealed it back up with its brass button. The two continued down the dimly lit passageway, beneath the surface of NeoTokyo itself. He sighed at the flickering light that had been blinking for two weeks and still awaited changing. An epileptic annoyance was always one of the few things he could immediately complain about, seeing as the "how about that weather, ey" icebreaker was clearly useless down in the NSF Headquarters.

Eventually Takai made his way into the mess hall and sat down, unravelling his NSF Tac-Pad and looking into the details of his upcoming mission. Shumei nudged him and grabbed a small bar of cereal to eat for himself. He offered Takai a bite, to which he declined.

"'Nother investigation? You've been really busy. You should find the time to relax, maybe go out for dinner with someone. Settle down and get some-"

"Maybe after. I know we've got a potential raid coming in the few days, so I don't want to jinx it, if that makes sense?" Takai looked more into it, reading into the possibility of a Jinrai tradesman being located on the rim of the exclusion zone, hiding in plain sight to bolster a potential guerrilla movement being introduced within their ranks. Whilst the Jinrai were a dedicated, professional military source of warfare, they too liked to dabble in the different arts of war in order to fully express their intentions, expansive nature and informality into asserting the power gap's devolution. It wasn't going to be an easy campaign, and the upcoming raid was definitely something he was going to be required to participate within. It had been a while since Takai had left the investigation front and committed to the true battle, finding excuses and perfectly timing his investigations to conflict with the battle themselves. It wasn't that he wanted to avoid it, it was just that he wanted more time to mentally prepare what could happen, especially considering what had happened in his last operation.

For the mean time, Takai sat in the centre, alone at a table as Shumei left for his own duties, hoping to offer a helping hand to a few cadets who'd been reportedly struggling with a recent training exercise. Takai was in a position of solitude once more, and thus he smiled to himself, reading over his next target. He had about 30 minutes before he had to get ready, and how he was going to kill that time was for someone else's explanation. Until then, he thought about his suspect: Iwata Honomi.

[GoreLore]

[GoreLore]

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖔 𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖆

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3 months. it had been 3 months since Margo was officially accepted into the investigative combat unit. It had been almost unbelievable to see how quick his life has shifted. He was an insignificant punk kid who didn't know the first thing about the modern world, completely ignorant of the vast political as well as the technological landscape around him. When margo first landed a job at the Glamazon gala, he hardly had to put any effort in his work, his snarky remarks, flashy makeup, and decent mixing skills were enough to earn some tips from flamboyant customers. The people who gathered in the gala were always adorned in makeup, flashy fashion and suffocating perfume and scents of alcohol and other various drugs. It was nearly bombarding to margo that the grey ash and ruins of the ghettos where he grew up were so different from the bright and dirty downtown of the city. Music would be loud, heavy with synth, sound effects and fast paste lyrics that kept everyone moving. He could have sworn that was his new place, the place where he belonged, in the underbelly of the city, living with the other queers and urban citizens equally jaded and roughed up from life. Now, look at him, the same flashy crossdressing kid, in uniform and duty, reading over previous case files for the NSF. How wild.

Margo was hunched over in his quarters, eyes strained on his screen. they were reddened and sore from the harsh light, he had only now been using computers so often. In fact, over the past 3 months, he had been doing nothing but familiarizing himself with modern tech. It was as if he was newborn learning to walk for the first time. His eyes were either glued to a screen or he was locked up in the gym training himself desperate to get himself in shape, in both mental and physical means. Over the few months, he developed lean muscle, some agility and flexibility and the ability to type properly without using two fingers very slowly like before. However, though he was doing well-becoming accustomed to the world around him and adapting himself in the new sort of cut-throat atmosphere of his new position, his social life was nonexistent. Margo being a very social creature was miserable, like a bird with clipped wings. margo was so focused on proving his worth and training himself to hopefully be capable enough to get out there and go on a real mission with the rest instead of being the essentially backup/secretary of the unit; that he hardly found the time to get t know his colleagues. How could he? He was so inferior from them, they were capable, strong and seemingly very very smart. how could the homeschooled transvestite interact with that? Hell some of them were foreigners, a body of people whom he had rarely interacted with before. He had only seen people like that in his mother's old teen magazines, where they were described as fashionable, loud, touchy and "totally hip". However, the shibui magazines from the late 20th century aren't a very reliable source now, isn't it? The foreign women especially scare him, he couldn't remember how many times as a kid he dreamed of looking like a fashionable woman like that, god how could he face em, they were still everything he wished he was.


Once again margo had been daydreaming, completely lost in his head as his eyes glanced over the same sentence on the computer screen over and over. With nothing particularly urgent to do, he felt completely useless and dare he say bored. A loud yawn left his lip as he pulled his hair back into a sleek ponytail before closing down the computer. That's it, he had to get out of her, out of his small den and mingle with somebody, anybody that wasn't an all business higher up giving him more paperwork to look over and classify. He got out of his chair and stretched with a yawn as he checked himself in the mirror, fixing up his makeup and clothes before sauntering out of his room into the main halls of headquarters and the mess hall. Though the change of scenery was nice, taking in the more spacious room with some bustling comrades here and there, he still wasn't sure what he should do. Should he speak up and reveal that he was for sure a dude or should he lay low and hope someone kind came up to him? No, waiting around was not on his agenda today, he had enough of that already. Margo scanned the room and spotted a familiar face, The big bad wolf he addresses him in his head, Mister Takai himself. The man was well known around his unit, being nearly the poster child of professionalism and passion in their unit. There the man was sitting alone seeming busy with his own devices. Should Margo dare even interrupt? Does he even dare to show his face to the seemingly intimidating man?

The hell with it, what does he got to lose? He went from a bartender to NSF member, after all, the sky's the limit. margo puffed up his chest, straightened his posture and made a very manly confident walk over to the center table. He awkwardly stood at the edge, mouth opening and closing like some sort of fish as he sputtered on what words to open up with. finally, he let out overly intense and deep "HEY."

Margo could feel his face heating up at the awkward delivery as he stiffly plopped doon the bench across from the man. He blinked a moment as he gained some more gusto. I'm Margo" he said again before giving a stiff bow from his seat assuming his slightly softer tone. He felt like some sort of caveman 'Me Margo GRR' but hell good enough. Though his nerves were in a bunch he was off to a good- well a start certainly. So with one more inhale Margo continued "I have heard quite about you. I'm sure you have not seen me around, however, we are in the same unit, I am very inexperienced so please take care of me yeah? Mr. G.I Joe?" he let out a small chuckle at his own joke, however, his heart pumped at a million miles an hour, Maybe his humor just might get him snubbed from the big shot but hell it's worth a try. Hopefully, this will lead to some more interactions with others as the day goes by.
@LetMeDoStuff

[FalloutJack]

ASAGI

Breathe in...
Breathe out...
Breathe in...
Breathe out...

Heart-rate normal, nerve activity minimal. She lay in bed, sound asleep in her bedroom, head tilted off to one side. Never snores, no bad habits while asleep...except one. It's what the sensor was for. Karine Asagi did not live on the base. She preferred her own private life, in a secure apartment of her own design and furnishings. The asthetic was a mix of modern and classical, what with the wood-panel walls and a holographic fireplace, the old-style furniture and the flat-screen display on the wall. And that was just the sitting room. Her bedroom was a bit more normal, though there was kind of a mix of tool chests along with the dresser and nightstand, which in of itself was next to the vital sensor that she'd connected to her alarm clock. Asagi was asleep right now, but sadly that would not remain.

Breathe in...
Breathe out...
Breathe in...
Flinch.

Heart-rate and nervous activity increasing. It happened sometimes, and she hated it. Her breathing sped up, and her arm or her leg would twitch. Or, on a bad night, they would all do it. Karine was physically-suited to the NSF, and even if she had kept all of her flesh limbs, she would've been perfectly fine to continue even after everything that had changed there, but the fact of the matter is that she didn't... Her arms and legs had been robbed from her, as well as her eyes, and both the physical and mental trauma from that time - and indeed, even the instinctive reaction nowadays - led to moments of certain cognitive dissonance, the instinctual and the intellectual clashing hard. Her body was reaching out to flesh limbs, but these weird instruments were what kept answering, and that was sometimes jarring.

Breath quickened, nervous actions spiked.

The alarm went off, and her eyes - somewhat human-looking, but with the red iris of machine optics - snapped open. She said up, calming herself, forcing her limbs to stop twitching as her breathing settled once more. Another bad dream. Therapy had allowed her to get over the worst of it, but even still, you don't just shrug off the notion of some large industrial spider picking off and eating your prosthetics, then leaving you for dead as you flail around with ragged, useless stumps. If she didn't engage the safeties on her arms and legs every night, Karine would probably tear apart her own bed.

Won't bore you with the details of getting up. It boils down to coffee, food, news (nothing good), getting dressed in her preferred riding clothes - also acceptable as uniform, minus the logo'd materials - and heading outside. The home office hadn't called lately. Maybe they thought she was overworked, maybe they were still processing the job she did last time. She didn't know. When stuff like this happened with her, Asagi liked two things: One was biking, the other was getting a little more work in, and her current aim was to do both. So, she was going to go out for a drive...and check up on the folks indoors. In the garage was the locked-down Kawasaki Mirage, a fast-as-hell hybrid motorcycle that compacted and locked the wheels - while preparing to send an electric shock through anyone who touched it without the key to disable it - until the driver came to drive it. It was a storm-gray bike, like her longcoat, and as she revved that semi-electronic motor, Asagi felt alive again.

She headed off, already moving at high speed. Asagi was an excellent driver, even better with the coordination of cyberlimbs and eyes. She didn't want them, but she had them and she was gonna use them. So, even at speeds that were inner-city illegal, she was getting around with improbably-tight moves that only a character like Lupin the 3rd could pull off with his ridiculous skills. Make no mistake, she was a military operative, several years of experience coupled with technical knowledge and understanding, making her great NSF material, but she was going to indulge herself, and no one on this Earth was going to stop her. She drifted in and out of traffic, seemingly lost to the flow of it all, looking as though she were half-inclined to just take off, launch herself into the stratosphere. Sometimes she wondered...should she do it? Let herself fly? Never did, but there were just little moments like that where she felt inclined...

In any case, Asagi was checking up on the base and her current superiors.

[Letter Bee]

Ashton Andrews-Hyuga

Ashton was busy preparing cybersecurity for any intrusion by Jinrai, knowing full well that he could not fend off every one of their attempts at entry in both the physical and digital worlds - This meant prioritizing some approaches over others. Weaving a web of protection, of interconnected firewalls and antivirus programs and constant scanning of all files not in a secure archive, Ashton was ready to make the defense as confusing for the enemy as possible when they made any attempt at entering his demesne.

Not that he was willing to let them any mole they have inside pre-emptive strikes or sneak in any groundwork before that happened, of course. For Ashton had established seven security programs, the ‘Seven Eyes’, whose goal was to alert him to any sign of dangerous activity among NSF employees and the Jinrai spies outside. These security programs used a parallel network of cameras and drones that operated alongside the NSF’s own closed-circuit network, and logged every action they caught, occasionally ‘tagging’ them as suspicious or dangerous. Note that the ‘Seven Eyes’ could and did return false positives, and so had to be corroborated with surrounding data lest Ashton make the mistake of jumping to conclusions.

And surrounding data was best-acquired through actual people - Computer whiz Ashton might be, but he was no stereotypical tech specialist, withering in the darkness. No, he was not going to let his social skills slip! And so, after making sure that his computers were capable of running semi-autonomously, and that he can always access them from his smartphone/comm-link/omni-tool, the young man then sent an email to Takeda Ochisuta’s office, asking for a personal meeting. Waiting a few minutes for a response, Ashton made the decision to go anyway regardless of whether he received permission or not. If needed, he can always artificially place himself on Takeda’s secretary’s schedule.

He knew he was playing a dangerous game if he did that, but he counted on Takeda’s capability to be impressed through daring, quick, and not necessarily suicidal actions. After all, that was how he got in the NSF in the first place.

Getting up to go out of the computer labs, Ashton walked to Takeda’s office, digitally putting himself on the secretary’s list if he had really not received permission to meet with him. All the while, he was measuring his personal feelings towards the NSF Administrator. An Ex-Jinrai operative who had defected to the NSF while preserving his original beliefs and ideology, Takeda was not to be trusted out of hand - He had still given hesitant yet still existent support to concentration camps for foreigners, concentration camps he could have been put into despite his Japanese blood.

But then again, neither was he - Despite his commitment to 99% of what the NSF believed in (the 1% was merely an allowance for human error), Ashton was enough of a maverick to gain their distrust. After all, he had earned cadet-hood and a relatively high place in the system by showing how their existing cyber-security was weak and vulnerable. So he had more to learn, more to learn from the best and the best was a person he distrusted, somewhat disliked, but respected anyway.

Then it turned out that the Secretary was smarter than he thought she would be, telling the young man, "I'm sorry to say this, but you are barred from an unauthorized meeting with Ochisuta-sama. Even if you did manage to place yourself on his schedule, considering your personal history and your... Capabilities, it would not be advisable to you in without Ochisuta-sama's personal verbal permission. In short, you are not allowed in his office until he says so and even then it'd be under the strictest precautions. Do we understand each other?"

Well, this was a surprise.

"Loud and clear," Ashton said as his disappointment was overridden by caution. "I'll be taking my leave now."

Then he left, pondering looking for other fish to fry...

((Edited with Conscripts' permission.))

@Conscripts

[Landaus Five-One]

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Chelsea was laying on her bed, while trying to think of something to do at the NSF Base. The contract between Akechi Hattori and the NSF in particular. It told of her greatest failure to all of the NSF staff, which didn’t help her chances in making any friends. However, when she was fully accepted into the NSF was basically four to five months ago since the contract was signed during that time. It made her celebrating her birthday a lonely one, which happened two months and three days ago, which she turned 25 years old. ”I-I can’t help but to feel hopeless… I even created an alter-ego, which is a prostitute named Zeta N. Holstein… but without having to listen to Master Guarri’s orders...” Chelsea thought to herself, was on the verge of crying. It was going to be a long day, however she needs to do something other than just laying here crying on her bed in the NSF Base. She slowly got up from her bed, which made her sigh, at least she doesn’t have to see her master. There was a silver lining, however, the only good thing out of the contract she got. Nobunaga was awful to her, which she constantly was reminded that she’s never going to leave his ownership ever. It took her to shake her head a bit put her back into reality and not what happened to her at the Guarri Ace Strip Club, which was awful.

Chelsea is wearing the non-field uniform of the NSF, which was comfortable at least. Her body was telling her to get something to eat since it definitely needed it. It was because of that, she decided to walk out of her room and go towards the Mess Hall to see what is there to eat. She has been quite distance from everyone because of what happened exactly. It’ll take her time to get to know someone, which is saying something. The Halifax Corporation Tracking Device started to ring, which meant it was Chelsea’s dad all the while she was walking towards the mess hall. It caused her to sigh a bit deeply but she answered the call. ”...Hi… Father, what do you want?” Chelsea asked with a slight tired tone in her voice. She didn’t get much sleep today, which didn’t help her at all.

Gregory heard his tired daughter’s voice, which she wasn’t getting much sleep. It’s mostly because of the fact of what Naomi said to her. ”Hello Chelsea, just wanted to check up on you. Since that is the agreement, which you agreed with us. I have a small update on your sister’s progress, which is definitely nice. She wants to apologize to you and still loves you as a sister but her recovery is going to take a bit… since she is still deathly afraid of going outside because of that incident.” Gregory said, hopeful that good news will help her daughter’s mood. He wants to help heal his children but it’ll be a slow process since both of them are equally hurting.

Chelsea had a slight smile on her face, which with her father told her. She was slowly approaching the mess hall now, which will be full of NSF Staff that probably take offense to her. It did help her mood somewhat but not too much since it is going to be along time to heal these wounds. However, her mood turned back to sour because she couldn’t help but remember Naomi’s words. ”...Father, thank you… I love her too it’s the only reason why I apologized to Silvia. I need to eat something father, can you talk to me after eat some breakfast. Most people here knows I am an heiress to a fortune 500 corporation.” Chelsea said to her father. She heard a hang up sound, which meant her father was probably called to do something else in the corporation. It was good she could think to herself again, however.

She finally entered the mess hall and saw Shushen, Shumei, Margo and some other NSF Staff in it. It took her to breath deep and try to calm down a bit more since she was a wreck compared to some of the people here. She gently walks to where the food was laid out to get, which it meant was breakfast time even though it was hard to see what time of day it was. Her breakfast choices were somewhat similar to what normal people eat, which was scrambled eggs and other things alike a cereal bar. It was a bit annoying, however she decided to sit basically by herself. However, her eyes were pointed at Margo, since she did see him/her around. ”...I… hate… myself. For everything… This is quite hard on me. All these people are interesting at least… more so than I am.” Chelsea thought to herself, tearing up about something, which she had done earlier. It was mostly because of the thoughts of Naomi’s final words strike her constantly. She does start to eat her breakfast, however since it was definitely required for her. At least, she got herself some apple juice, which made her feel like her old self slightly. It would take her awhile to open up to everyone else about her master. However, she thinks Administer Takeda already knows about Nobunaga Guarri’s ownership of many women, which includes her. It felt a bit harder since everyone was judging her. She should really interact with more people instead of trying to follow orders without being yelled at by anyone.

Chelsea looks up from her tray of food, which she continues to stare at Margo, whom is talking to Shushen about something. She was sitting diagonal from Shushen but could see Margo specifically. However, she deeply sighs and goes back to eating her breakfast hopefully no one will bother her right now. It would be a perfect world if that was the case, but it isn’t and that mercenary from Florida might bother her. ”...What was that guy’s name again? O-Oh right, Chris Bell… don’t know why he would bother me though.” Chelsea thought to herself, with a deep sigh. She couldn’t stop herself from crying it just happens on and off but she was quietly crying. It’s good that she can fully understand Japanese or this would have been much harder on her nonetheless. However, it was slightly hilarious that the old man Bell, can't speak it fluently.

[silvermist1116]

Ready music.
Ready battle level 38 in
Five...
Four...
Three...
Two...
One…
Begin.

Seohyung was surrounded, but he didn’t hesitate. As soon as he was given the go ahead he threw his sword, pierced one in the head, ran and planted his feet on its torso, pushed off with his sword in his left hand and back flipped across the circle. He stabbed straight down into another’s skulls, then landed on his feet. He ripped the sword up, split the top in half, then spun to the right decapitated the one next to it, then spun to the left and stabbed between where the ribs should be.

Bullets flew. He ran zigzag to the other side of the room where more of them appeared from the floor panels. The ones behind him lined up like a firing squad, accidentally clipped one of their own when he ducked. They stopped firing. He dropped his sword, jumped on one’s shoulders, broke its neck, then fell backwards with his thighs around its throat and used the momentum to throw it into the one behind him. He rolled from his back to his hands and paused, thighs to his chest, then he kicked out, further knocked them off balance, then landed on his feet. He picked up his sword and stabbed both.

One came at him, a sword in its hands. He quickly pulled his sword out, then clashed blade against blade. It tried to over power him, pushed back, his feet slid back a few inches, but he didn’t move further than that. He ducked and spun on his toes, sword cut the one that tried to sneak up behind him at the knees. He just as quickly turned back to the other and stabbed up into its torso. The bullets fired again. He stood, body still hung off his sword and ran at the gunbots. The body was his shield.

He had to be quick. The bullets tore up the body, until most of it was missing chucks. He threw what was left at the bots, caught four off guard, they fell under the weight. Four more still shot at him. He stayed low and close, where the gunbots couldn’t get him without shooting up their own feet. He cut one from the groin up to the head, then dropped his sword. He grabbed one half’s arm and swung half the body at the bot next to it. He knocked it off its feet and did the same for the other two. The last bot accidentally shot off and caught him in the thigh. Seohyung dropped to his knee. That part of his tight black intra suit for his field duty uniform was bullet proof as was the chest and back, but it was going to bruise like the devil and keep him limp for the rest of the exercise.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.

The gun was still in his face, so he forced the arm up and stayed down, shots went off towards the ceiling while he punched at the elbow, until it let go. He picked up the gun and shot the bot in the head. He stood and turned to do the same for the others, but the gun was out of bullets, so he limped down the line to where he left his sword, picked it up, then stabbed the last six in their heads.

A hellfire of bullets started up again from two stories above on the balcony. He ran towards the gunfire, jumped up to the balcony, grabbed the railing and kicked the first one in the face. He crouched low, his leg nearly buckled, but he kept strong and stabbed the next one in the chest. He ran forward into the line of bots along the railing, screamed at the top of his lungs through the pain. Some of them fell over and crashed to the floor below, others jumped out of the way. When he got to the end of the line, he threw the last over the edge, then swiftly worked his way back through the ones still alive. His thigh was screaming, but he couldn’t stop. The hour wasn’t close to over yet, so he kept going.

He hardly had a moment to breathe, before bots dropped out of the ceiling behind him with swords, staffs, and kunai. He went at them. Clashed swords with one while another sneaked under their arms and stabbed him in the side again and again.

"Fuck!" He screamed through his teeth and pushed away the swordbot, kicked the one that stabbed him, then cut off the swordbot’s head. The kunai was still in his side, but he couldn’t pull it out yet.

Vitals are dropping. Please discontinue the exercise.

He fell away from one with a staff when it jumped to smash him in the head. It moved quick. He got to his feet and ducked, dodged, and weaved away from the staff. It pushed him into the wall. He couldn’t get it with his sword, so he dropped it, and grabbed the staff when it came for him again. The vibration from the force rattled down his arms, down his torso, all the way down to his feet. Teeth gritted, he used the wall for support and kicked his legs out, caught the bot in the chest and forced it to let go. He raised the staff up and smashed it in the head over and over, before he faced off with the other bots.

Vitals are dropping. Please discontinue the exercise.

A few threw kunai at him. He deflected some, but the rest of them cut his face and his arms. He ran at them; his thigh almost gave out. He vaulted over the next few, barely landed on his feet, before he fell on his back. He grabbed a kunai on the floor and stabbed the next bot in the ankle in rapid succession, then threw it at its head. It dropped its sword, he grabbed the hilt midair and staggered to his feet. He stabbed behind his back, killed one, swung over head and slashed the next. He was stabbed and cut a few times, but he didn’t stop. Bot bodies and parts filled the balcony before he jumped over the railing to continue the fight on the bottom level. He rolled and popped up, kept most of the pressure off his thigh, sword up and ready for the next wave.

By the end of it he was worse for wear, bloody and cut up. He’d been stabbed a few more times, but he pushed through the pain anyway.

Battle level 38 ending in
Five…

He couldn’t let his guard down, until the final beep. Sword up, feet unsteady he waited for another enemy.

Four…

Other than his harsh breathing and the beeping, the room was silent.

Three…

Sweat dripped down his face, once slicked back hair was matted to his forehead and hung in his eyes.

Two…

Blood dripped down his side, his stomach, and his calf; shallow cuts on his face bleed slowly and stung from his sweat, his thigh shook, the pain unbearable, and his arms trembled, exhausted.

One… A shot rang out.

The bullet caught him in the back. He fell face first and black out.

The NSF training room was a mess. From streaks of his blood here and there to robot bodies cut to pieces, sparks flew from their wires. Seohyung wasn’t getting up anytime soon. The pain completely consumed him and kept him down. Under his intra suit were monitor patches on his chest and arms that read his vitals to the training machine. Right now they were dangerously low.

Operative is unresponsive. Calling nursing station now.

[GrizzTheMauler]

Takachi

---

A mess. It was always something new every day for the man. Having been recalled to handle an investigation that another operative messed up he was tired from the interrogation session. The man had nothing new to him and he just shook his head and left, heading to shower and get something to eat and head over for some training. He entered his room, one of the larger ones due to his size and position, dropping his jacket off in the chair before cleaning himself up.

Once Takashi was dry he dressed into his training gear and headed down to the cafeteria. Noting the others he merely nodded to them as he grabbed something light, sitting and reading his tablet to finish up his reports. The large man cut an imposing figure, scowling at anyone who came close. He'd not slept in some time and had to pull an all-nighter interrogating their prisoner.

He noticed Takai enter and merely nodded, continuing his work before finishing and heading off to the locker rooms. He'd been showering when he was pinged, stating one of the junior officers was hitting the red zones. He'd been tasked with monitoring the domestic troops, analyzing and weeding out any moles and threats. Grimacing as he hurried out, checking the name, he stopped as the alarm went off.

"God damn it Kamenashi-san." He swore as he hurriedly put on pants and his flip flops, still wet as he rushed out to the Training Room. It was one of several, and Takashi arrived first, scanning him over and cursing as he grabbed the first aid kit. He applied pressure to the worst of the wounds he monitored him as the medics arrived. He shook his head as they carted him off to the Medical wing. "That kid will get himself killed." Takashi looked around the room, sighing as he hit the button to automate the cleaning. Training would have to wait as he filled out yet another report, his mood dropping further as he went to Medical to fill it out. He grabbed his tablet after he finished and made his notes, sending it to Takai.

Kamenashi-san is once again proving to be a danger to himself. I highly suggest, again, that he not train alone. If you want me to take care of it, fine. But this is the sixth time he's done this in the last month and I don't feel confident about having him on the Raid. I highly suggest that he not be sent this time.

Setting the tablet aside he headed into the weight room to exercise and run some cardio. He felt only a little bit tired from his 20 hour long day but it was nothing he wasn't used to already. Noticing a text from his grandfather he responded, snorting at his antics. His grandgather liked prying into Takashi's career, missing the old days he once had. For his part, Takashi was happy to share the non-classified parts. He told his grandfather he was fine, a bit stressed but he was doing what he'd wanted to do, regardless of the fact that these kids were driving him insane sometimes. He finished his chat and focused back on working out, embracing the cool burn of intense exercise.

[Smike]

Kaz had woken up at 3 in the morning, bolting upright in a cold as she felt a man's skull crack against her own, heard the disgusting gurgling of someone choking on their own blood. The noise had served as a sort of alarm clock for the past four years of her life, never letting her go more than a few hours without remembering what she had done and become. What time was it now? She had no idea. Some unspecified number of hours had passed with her having stared at the wall, the butt of an extinguished cigarette still hanging loosely from the corner of her mouth. She dropped it to the floor where it joined a pile of its brothers, Kaz carelessly sweeping them under her bed with her foot. With a hoarse groan she slipped from the bed and into the bathroom to stare at herself in the mirror. Dull green eyes, lifeless and cloudy with lack of sleep, peered back out at her as she brushed her teeth and combed her hair. Her clothes were next, putting on her uniform and tugging on her boots. One of the duties described in her contract was to "present yourself as befitting an officer of the NSF entrusted with emergency powers to protect the constitution of Japan" so she did, putting on a mask and trying present herself as a functional member of society. Was she ever successful? Who knew. It didn't really matter, routine and structure was all she had.

The next step in the procedure was breakfast. The heels of her boots clacked loudly through the hallways of the NSF headquarters, the foreign born woman towering over nearly everyone she came across. Had she been capable of feeling such a thing anymore she would snickered at the absurdity of it. How desperate was Japan that it needed to pad out the ranks of its elite task force with foreigners and mercenaries like herself? She wasn't even the only one. Chelsea, Tobias, Chris, it was almost comical really, the supposed best and brightest (and one 16 year old boy for fuck's sake) having to rely on a motley crew of people who had no stake in the fight. Any sane person would have resigned by now. Which was why she was still here.

Ignoring the chatter of the canteen Bykov got in the chow line and loaded her tray with enough food to feed two people. As a side effect of the artificial muscle fibers and the huge feats of physical strength she pushed herself into do she was nearly always hungry, snacking constantly to try and feed her metabolism. With a plate full of hashbrowns and scrambled eggs she sought out a place to sit, deciding on the seat across from Takai. She got along well with him, at least as well as she could get along with anyone. She took a seat and gave him and Shumei a nod, spearing a bite of egg on her fork. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" she asked politely in functional, if stilted, Japanese. She didn't wait for a response before tearing into her meal, looking down at her plate as she ate.

She sensed the presence standing by her before it said anything, electing to ignore it until the baritone "Hey" made her look up. "Hey yourself." she grunted, looking up at Margo. She knew very little about her (him?) and hadn't yet formed an opinion but now she was feeling even less confident in her team as a whole. "Perhaps if you need to ask someone to take care of you, you should find another line of work."

---------

Daiyu's routine had already started for the day, the self made multimillionaire have spent the early morning in quiet mediation. Out of all the skills her grandfather had taught her she was most grateful for the ability to quiet her mind. She remembered how'd she pout and whine when he instructed her to sit and relax, grumbling about how stupid it was. Mediation was something only monks and old men practicing Tai Chi in the park did, she wanted to learn to break boards and use swords! And she did, but not before she learned the importance of staying patient and calm. She never would have been able to have gotten as far in life (or even survived) without her daily meditation sessions, taking a few minutes before making any major decision to mull it over.

Today she had been thinking about her life and just how it lead to this point. She was a Chinese national from Hong Kong who had moved to Tokyo, fell into the criminal underworld, created one of the biggest stock brokerage firms in history with funding from the Yakuza, wormed her way into the contact lists and address books of numerous celebrities and politicians and was now a part of a task force dedicated fighting a rogue military unit turned terrorist organization. It read like a bad spy, her daily life a constant balancing act of trying to maintain three distinct identities while juggling updates from legal and illegal business associates. And thanks to that little press conference all of Japan would know if she messed up. The consequences for failure getting killed, or getting arrested and then killed. It was stressful at the best of times and terrifying at the worst.

And she loved it. Daiyu handled billions of dollars ever year, consorted with some of the most powerful men and women in the world, got access to files the government would never let see the light of day. Everyday was exciting whether it was spent handling military grade hardware or defrauding millions or stealing priceless works of art. Well that last one was more of a hobby than a job but still, it was pretty awesome. She was an outsider in a culture that was famously insular, and she had made it recognize her as a force to be reckoned with however grudgingly. Daiyu carried herself proudly as she walked to one of the many training halls, skipping the one with it's red emergency light flashing and one of her comrades rushing into it. That room was the lethal training room, possibly one of the dumbest ideas she had ever heard. What good was practicing with real blades and bullets? If you messed up you died, accomplishing nothing. Not mention the expense of of repairing the damaged and destroyed robots. She had never considered herself a traditionalist but there was such a thing as too much technology.


The empty dojo two doors down was much more her speed. Slipping out of her shoes and socks and stepping onto the mat, Daiyu took a wide legged stance. She unsheathed her sword and took a breath, releasing it as she thrust forward. Almost as quickly as the blade was extended she snapped it back, watching her form in one of the full length mirrors that lined the wall. Practical training was good, but it was worthless without reviewing the basics. And review she did, performing all manner of stabs and slashes on invisible opponents.

[MK2]

---

Hisss…

The loud noise of the Bus grinding to a halt called Chris’s attention into focus. The ride was over.

“Tōkyō ni kitekurete arigatō!”

The bus’s intercom sprang to life with some words that Chris didn’t understand, nor did he care to. He jumped out of his seat and grabbed the bag carrying all his worldly possessions from the overhead carrier and then he was off the bus. The sun was just coming out, but it didn’t feel like morning for Chris. 17 Hours flying, another two on a bus. Chris had lost almost an entire day of time, and he was exhausted. To make matters worse, the bus was delayed 40 minutes. Which delayed his trip into Tokyo. And on account of him not seeing his ride anywhere around him, either he was too late and they left him, or they guy didn’t show up. Which meant Chris had to figure out his own mode of transportation.

He checked his watch, it read 9pm. “Shit.. I need to change it.” Chris thought to himself as he rubbed at his eyes trying to force the tiredness away. At Least he knew what the time was back home, his kid should be awake right now. Chris turned and went toward a payphone. He put his money into the thing only to hear an operator speak to him in Japanese, when he tried to dial his son’s cell phone number, before promptly hanging up.

“Oh you gotta be kidding me…” Chris said exasperatedly as he looked around him, calling out to a man in a business suit passing by him.

“Hey! Hey you! English? Tell you speak English suit! I need some help here!”
The man gave Chris a trouble glance before shaking his head no and picking up his pace in the opposite direction of where Chris was standing.

“Jesus Christ.. Just my fucking luck.” Chris muttered to himself as he took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I… speak english..” A soft, female voice came from behind him. He turned to face the voice and saw a young girl, probably in highschool standing in front of him in a hoodie slightly oversized for her and some jeans that were dirty. It was still early, but Chris figured this girl should be getting to school around now, so her presence there behind him confused him. Her holding out a phone to him was a welcome surprise however.

“Listen kid, I need to make an international call.. You sure I can use yours?”

“Payphone.. Does not do international.. Me or nothing.” The girl said back to him, as she held out the phone.

“Well shit, alright.. Thanks!” Chris said with a smile to the girl as he went to take the phone. Just before he could she pulled her hand back with it and offered Chris a weak smile.

“Have Yen.. Mister? For bus fare. I let you use phone for bus fare.”

‘God damn it…’ Chris thought as he realized what the kid was doing. He put his cigarette back in his mouth and took a long drag as he reached for his wallet.

“Alright you little shit… how much?” Chris asked after a moment, cigarette still hanging out of his mouth.

“5000 Yen!” The kid said excitedly, seemingly surprised Chris was actually playing along.

“5000? What do I look like, your personal bank? It's like a two minute call you brat.”

“Bus fare.. And lunch! Cmon.. mister! Please?” The girl looked at Chris with pleading eyes, something about it softened him. As he sighed and took out the money she was asking for.

“Sure kid.. Fine. You should ask your parents for bus fare money next time.” Chris tried to scold her, but something in her eyes at the mention of her parents told Chris all he needed to know about her situation, he just shook his head and made the transaction.

“I’m taking as long as I want with this Brat, so Id go get that lunch if I were you. I’ll be right over here by the vending machine.”

The girl just rolled her eyes and nodded, as she turned her back on him, walking off to handle whatever it was she needed to handle now that she had the money for it. Chris took a moment to take another puff of his cigarette, letting the smoke linger in his lungs for a minute before letting it out and looking at the phone. Without further preamble Chris dialed his sons number into the phone.

Ring….
Ring….
Ring….
‘Hello?’

“He-Hey Junior! It’s dad, listen bud I’m just calling to let you know I made it to-”

‘Haha! Got you! This is my voicemail, leave a message idiot!”

“..... Who the fuck thinks that funny?”

Chris didn’t bother leaving a message, instead opting to call again. Same result, his kid wasn’t answering. Five calls later Chris gave up figuring that his son was playing on his computer, so he dialed his former house phone number, figuring his wife would just call Chris to him.

Ring….
Ring….
Ring….

She also didn’t answer, instead, Their voicemail played, and an ensemble of voices spewed forth…

“Hey! You’ve reached Claire!” His ex-wife’s voice was first, the sweet sound of it making Chris smile for a moment, remembering fond times with the woman…

“And Carlos!” The second voice was foreign,but Chris had enough context clues from his son to know who Carlos was. Claire’s new live in boyfriend. A scrawny desk jockey working on his own computer programming start up. The man was maybe six years younger than both Claire and Chris, and although Chris had never met him, he couldn’t help but hate him…

“Aaaand Juniooor!” The third voice particularly flared up Chris’s annoyance with his ex as he stopped listening to the rest of the voicemail What? They share a voicemail now? Some sort of big happy family? And Chris had to pay for it? His house, Child support for Junior, and now he couldn’t get either of them to answer the phone. Finally the machine beeped, and Chris was able to leave a message.

“Well holy shit! You guys are just Precious, I mean really. It’s adorable, one big happy family, getting to record that little voicemail message. Really. Well Anyway, this is Chris, y’know, the guy you made Junior with. I was just calling our son to let him know his dad made it safe to Japan. Maybe you could let him know that I’ll be calling him tomorrow around seven? That’d be greeeat Claire, or Carlos if you’re hearing this. By the way, this the same phone I bought for the house…? Or did you use a little of my money to buy a new one?” The line went dead after that, and Chris sighed. There wouldn’t be a point in calling his son now, the anger he felt toward his wife would just spill through into the conversation with Junior.

“Might as well get this back to the kid.” Chris muttered to himself as he took out another cigarette and lighting it. He took another minute then, taking a drag of his cigarette and shuffling his feet, giving the girl a moment to return for her phone. She didn’t show.

‘Aw c'mon kid.. You’re really going to make me look for you?’ Chris thought to himself as he took another long drag. He gave her another minute, still she didn’t show up. So he flicked away his cigarette and bought himself a soda and waited some more.

‘What are the odds a teenage girl forgot her phone.’ Chris thought as he leaned against the wall beside the vending machine.

‘Not very likely.’

‘don’t care either way, I’ll just put the phone down here and focus on getting a ride toward the base.’

‘She could be in trouble.’

Chris heard a small yelp from behind him as he argued with himself, the noise prompting him to sigh deeply and press his hand into his face.

‘Why the fuck did you think that you prick.’

‘You should go take a look.’

‘It's not my problem… If she needs help she’ll call out, someone will go to her.’

‘You heard it, do something.’

Chris growled to himself, as he poked his head around the corner, toward the sound of the yelp; sure enough the girl that lent him her phone was being pushed into a darker part of the bus depot by two other kids, maybe a year or two older than her, and dressed like the kind of punks you’d see corralling a girl into a dark alley at the crack of dawn. They’ve probably been out here the entire night, up to no trouble. One was pushing the girl against the wall, the other seemed to be blocking the alley, both were facing away from where Chris was.

“God damn it.” Chris muttered under his breath, looking at the unopened can of Soda in his hand

‘She needs you.’ The voice in Chris’s head reiterated as Chris watched the ordeal the girl was going through.

“Its not my fuuucking problem…. I need to get moving…” Chris whispered to himself, as he looked around the bus depot area. It was empty, security was either changing shifts or grabbing coffee inside the main terminal area. She was on her own.

‘She helped you.. You owe her.’ The voice urged.

“I paid her. It wasn’t a favor.” Chris muttered.

‘She’s not much older than Junior’

Chris sighed again as he watched the guys bothering the girl chuckle as they tormented her, she looked distressed and they looked pleased. The voice won this time

“Issho ni jikan o sugoshite mimasen ka” The one pressing the girl against the wall said, Chris had no clue what it meant but he figured it was nothing good. Neither boy had noticed Chris approach, both of them busy tormenting the scared girl, who said nothing, only whimpering silently to herself.

The first boy blocking the entrance to the alley was the one Chris focused on, He took the boy by surprise, starting by bashing the Full Can of Soda over his head with as much force as he could muster. The can burst open with a Hiss as the Soda sprayed all over Chris and the kid.

“Aaah! Yameru!” The kid who just got walloped screamed as Chris Kicked the back of his knee in Forcing him to the ground. He’d then wrap an arm around the kids neck, isolating one of his arms to prevent him from fighting back. By this point the one closest to the girl had jumped back, watching his friend get manhandled he began to reach into his pockets.

“Hey! Stop that fucking shit right now you prepubescent little shit!” Chris shouted at the boy, as he grimaced and squeezed harder on his friends neck, tightening the hold.

“Ya-meru… Tas-uke!” The kid in Chris’s grip muttered in between jagged breaths, Chris watched the other kid stop what he was doing, genuine worry for his friend painted over his face. The girl watched this all happen in stunned silence.

“Now.. Girl.. Be a fucking doll and translate huh? I want two things from these jokers.” Chris waited to see the girl acknowledge him with a Nod before continuing.

“I want his wallet, and whatever he was reaching for on the ground in front of you right now, tell him to do it quick while his friend here is still awake.” Chris squeezed a little more for emphasis, the boy in his arms futility trying to pull his arm away, find only enough leverage to keep from being completely choked out.

The girl repeated what Chris said to the second boy, and he did as he was asked, pulling out his wallet and a pocket knife. The boy under his weight also pulled his wallet out with his free arm and tossing it into the pile.

“Now Kid, I want you to take their ID’s, and I want you to take out the money in their wallets. Do it now.” The girl obliged.

“Now read their names out to them.”

She did as she was told.

“See? Now she knows your name, and where you live. Which means I do. If you bother her? Or any other girl again, I’ll come find you. And I’ll do more than choke one of you out. Am I clear? Repeat it girl.” Chris said with authority, The girl did as he asked shakily.
Both boys nodded their agreements, and Chris let the one he was holding go shoving him toward his friend.

The boy who had the pocket knife rushed over and scooped up the wallets, fear plain on his face. He went for the knife as well, but all that earned him was a strong kick to the side from Chris knocking him over.

“Knife's Mine pencil dick. You lost your privilege” Chris said, shaking his head no at the kid who in turn nodded and ran off with his friend who screamed

“Gaikoku hito kureijī koko kara deyou!”

Chris sighed as he scooped to pick up the knife, looking at the girl who stared at him with wide eyes.

“Kid, not that it's any of my business. But maybe you should stop whatever the fuck you’re doing and head home huh? If this is the first thing that happens to you today, any plans you might have.. are probably shit.” Chris said, placing the knife in his pocket and handing over the girls phone.

“You are.. Good man! Thank you!” The girl exclaimed as she lunged forward and hugged Chris, who in turned recoiled slightly.

“Yeah.. sure whatever you say kid… Home Alright? Home. Take that money and Go home. And uh, my advice? Call the cops on those kids.”

The girl nodded her affirmation and dialed a number on her phone, as he ran off toward the well lit terminal. He could only hope she was calling her parents. As he also stepped back toward the light of the terminal, he saw a man in dark clothes standing near the alley, holding a sign with his name on it in Plain English. The guy probably saw all of what had just happened. Chris groaned and walked back toward the Vending Machine to collect his luggage.

“I have it inside the car already Mr.Bell.” The man with the sign said as he leaned against his car, looking at Chris.

“Well, aren't you just a ton of help!” Chris exclaimed loudly, walking over to the man with a wide smile.

“Man, Where were you Five minutes ago! Y’know, right before I almost got stabbed!”

“I was here Mr.Bell, just pulled up in fact. I got stuck in some traffic, accident you see, but.. You seemed to have had that handled just fine.” The man with the sign smiled and opened the door for Chris.

“Sure.. Whatever you say.”

“I’m sure you’re happy to know I’ve taken the liberty of collecting your weapons for you, the wrist knife and the pistol anyway.. The assault rifle and the rest you’ll need to check out at base.” The man said as he entered the car’s driver side, Chris following suit and climbing in.

“Thanks guy, mind taking me home huh? I’m hungry and I could use some sleep.”

“Sure thing Mr.bell, you should look into taking Classes for Japanese.. You’ll need it.”

“Yeah no shit…”Chris rubbed at his eyes again.

“You did a good thing just now Mr.Bell.. That girl will remember it.”

Chris didn’t reply, just letting the man talk.

“I won't mention it in my report if you don’t want me to.” The man said as he began to drive toward the base.

“Yeah uh, probably better if you didn’t guy. Wouldn’t want the first thing the higher ups see about me being a fight.” Chris replied as he looked out the window. The rest of the ride was one of silence, Chris even managing to close his eyes and get some sleep. Before long he was being jostled awake by the abrupt stop of the car he was riding in, the driver looking at him with an amused face.

“We’re here Mr.Bell, welcome to the NSF.”

“Yeah Thanks.. Point me to the Chow-Hall will you? I'd like to see the kind of slop Japan feeds its soldiers.” Chris said, as he stepped out of the car and collected his gear. He listened to the mans directions as he attached the wrist knife to his left arm, and put the pistol into a Thigh holster the man also provided.

His eyes didn’t wander much, maybe it was because he was tired from the trip or the whole ordeal at the bus station. But all Chris wanted was a hot meal, and a bed to call his own. Eventually he stepped into the Chow hall, his bag still at his side he made his way to an empty table, only nodding politely to anyone who made eye contact with him. Once he situated his bag, he silently made his way to the chow line, picking up his breakfast and heading back for his seat.

[Landaus Five-One]

---

Chelsea’s eyes go slightly dim, which is because of the fact she’s been quietly crying. It’s mostly because of the fact she isn’t really that happy about everything in her life. She’s been having many problems within her life, however. It takes her a bit to move her left hand to clear the tears in her eyes, which have been going down her face. This causes her to notice and hear Ms. Bykov’s voice, which was probably directed at Takai & Margo respectably. She realized there was more people in the mess hall too, other than just Bykov’s voice it caused her to deeply sigh. Her voice mostly gave her shivers because of how not normal Bykov is, which is probably because of her career. ”Ugh… I try to stay out of Ms. Bykov’s way since she usually yells at me for being an incompetent...” Chelsea thought to herself. She was a bit afraid of Ms. Bykov anyways, however, she did also notice Chris Bell whom seemed like he finally arrived in the NSF HQ. It caused her to roll her eyes only a bit because of the fact he was late. However, she went back to eating her breakfast since she was enjoying it, the only good thing to happen to her.

She sighed deeply and couldn’t help but talk at Chris Bell, even though she didn’t want to. It’s only because of the fact there’s not many Americans in the NSF. However, she doesn’t feel lonely since she gets to talk to her father Gregory. ”I hope you do have a good time, here at the NSF, Chris Bell. My name is Chelsea Riley O’Connell by the way.” Chelsea said, in English. However, she wanted to confuse him but its better to speak to him in English other than Japanese since he can’t speak it. Even though she does know all of the Japanese Dialects because of her excellent and expensive tutors. The only good thing for being an heiress she supposed, which was paid for by her parents. She was told by her father Gregory that one of the marines in his long historic career has a Major General and retiring as a Lt. General. There was one of the marines as his subordinates was a joker and a good morale booster, however, that was the only good thing he said about him specifically. It was not really a good idea to push her father for more information since he keeps certain information to a need to know basis. ”I do wonder… about who he was talking about..” Chelsea thought to herself, returning to eat her food on her tray.

However, she hopes her introduction to Chris Bell doesn’t make her get the wrath of Ms. Bykov. It’s the only reason she doesn’t like introducing herself most of the time. However, it’s pretty not hard to talk to people in question. It’s in her job description to hunt down the Jinrai and kill them, however, she did a terrible thing by allowing Hattori Naomi to die. ”...I… hate myself for that… I hope I can get my revenge on the Jinrai scumbag who took away Hattori Naomi from me… Her father Hattori Akechi will never forgive me though...” Chelsea thought to herself, frustrated about it. She moves her tray away from her and she lays her head down pitifully quietly crying to herself. The frustration of that whole thing definitely doesn’t help her from being always in tears about every single thing. It’s a miracle that her emotional baggage hasn’t got herself killed during all her missions in the NSF. The only good thing in her whole career, which started four to five months ago. It’s too much for her today, which she should’ve stayed in her room and not went to get something to eat. However, she hoped her existence would mean something more. The only thing that keeps her going is basically her drive for revenge.

Chelsea didn’t have any idea of when these people would trust her since her horrible failure of not able to protect Hattori Naomi. Because of the fact she had a pity party for herself and got super drunk with alcohol, when she was 22 years old. However, its harder to earn trust for certain people than others. She raised her head, which she decided to finish her tray and drink her apple juice. It’s a bit odd for a 25 year old woman drink an apple juice. ”This is so annoying.” Chelsea said, underneath her breath quietly in Japanese. However, she had hoped no one heard it.

_@MK2

[Jeep Wrangler]

---

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---

Once the Section Officer Iha Shumei had departed, leaving him to his reading. Looking down upon his task, he felt a strange sensation of melancholy when eyeing up the suspect on his datapad: Iwata Honomi, a previous ally to the National Security Force in its earliest of days. Its infancy had given birth to a respected and opportunistic operator, one who was keen to engage her morals and beliefs to their greatest extent. Takai himself had been a recruit to the NSF around the time of her rising influence, giving her a sort of instructor vibe to her position. Truth be told, Takai had looked up to her during the formation of the NSF, finding Iwata's honest expertise to greatly inflict a deal of confidence upon those she surrounded herself with. Of course, books were easy to judge by their cover. Iwata truly didn't have it in her when things got rough, and one or two rough operations later she found herself begging for disassociation from the NSF immediately. The stress of battle took its toll on her, and made her decisions rash and irrational entirely. Unfortunate, it was. Takai felt himself rise above her anxieties at first, but several raids later he understood why she chose to leave. Things could be brutal in the underworld of NeoTokyo, and surely enough she'd seen the worst of it all. Before even encountering the Jinrai, she'd been involved in several raids on a human trafficking firm that shook her to the core. Understandably, of course. Takai knew that her mind wasn't ready and taking the step back was easily the best call she could've made. It was something to respect, not undermine. However, one issue with her relevance to that day irked him the wrong way entirely.

Takai knew who Iwata Honomi was. He also knew what his contracted mission was to be. She was under investigation for potential dealings and partnership with the Jinrai, the very adversary she'd set out to break down. It didn't make sense on paper but the world was always full of surprises. Takai couldn't let his personal beliefs get in the way of an objective insight. If anything, she was innocent until proven guilty, yet if there was evidence against her case then she didn't have many options. Either accept arrest or surrender her life to the NSF Termination Process. The latter was definitely not a preferable alternative, but convincing someone who could be deep into the web of Jinrai formations would be far too difficult to ask for. Those who usually come confidently have a plan to themselves, whilst those who'd resist would likely fight their way out, hoping that either they die a death of glory or they break their potential captors before they can break them. Never was it simple; never was it easy.

Sighing greatly, Takai stared at her profile with distaste. Of course, the same mug shot used for her old keycard. Why else would they not use it? Well, back then they actually had keycards, before they quickly replaced them with a better identification system. He hoped deep down that it was a false alarm, one that was simply a routine checkup to ensure she never found her way into the clutches of her enemies. Takai knew that she'd been cleansed of ever working with the NSF on all records bar her own voice, which was a dangerous tool to let slip into the criminal underbelly of NeoTokyo. It wouldn't have been any surprise if she had designated agents watching her at all times, listening to every conversation she had and keeping a note of every individual she interacted with. With such a tight intelligence team at their disposal, testing it upon her would be an errand than an actual objective, just one with high stakes if she opened her secrets about the NSF's origins. Most of the information was likely useless due to the overhaul and updates given to the NSF in its entirety, but her word was still as dangerous as Takai's. Any advantage the Jinrai could get was acceptable and vice versa.

Beneath the thoughts and musings of Takai laid a lowered guard. Someone took advantage of that immediately, with an unfamiliar voice suddenly ringing in his ears. Their "HEY!" immediately caught Takai off guard, giving him a small shudder and turn. At first, he wasn't sure who'd given the abrupt and loud interjection of his thinking before he spotted the target. He remembered the profile picture, but not the name. Immediately, they gave their name. Margo. Takai didn't say anything at first, putting his datapad down onto the table and eyeing the individual up. The pitch-perfect premonition of their interception had him suspicious of who Margo was, but obviously being within the NSF Headquarters Takai had no reason to distrust the individual. It wasn't like he was searching for a reason to hate this Margo, it was more facing the premonitions of newfound friendships that had previously irked the Okinawan. At least in the modern day, Takai was far better at interacting with individuals, as cooperation led to some rather feisty and fiery connections that he'd sacrifice the whole world just to experience. Takai cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, waking himself up a second time from the sudden heart attack Margo had given him.

"Margo, huh?" Resisting the urge to scold them for sneaking up on him, Takai reserved himself to compose a better first impression, giving a light-hearted smile to follow his introduction. Before long, Margo had already exposed her knowledge of Takai's moderate reputation. Surely, Margo was exaggerating it slightly, as Takai was no celebrity within the NSF, just a decent Operator who knew how to get by honestly. At first, his smile faded when Margo continued to talk. "Please don't call me G.I. Joe. We're not soldiers, after all..."

Takai took a swig from a single flask he'd hinged onto his belt, having it filled with water at the least. Drinking was for another time of day, and another occasion. Besides, having the alcohol intake wouldn't exactly have been the smartest way to introduce himself to Margo. Dwelling upon how Margo had presented themselves, Takai took a minute to clear his throat a second time before returning to the conversation at hand. Sure, he did feel slightly bad for silently denying her immediate nickname. Honestly, however, she couldn't have chosen a worse one to use. Though in all honesty, it was all fun and games at the end of the day. Shame Takai hadn't exactly been in the mood for the games in the afternoon, only the evening and nights to follow when duty hadn't called him into action.

"Take care of you?" Before he could pursue what Margo had meant by that, a more familiar face had found its way into the conversation. Kazankova Bykov: Half-Russian, Half-American...all around dangerous individual. At least, she was dangerous in a way that Takai could get behind. Her intermission of the disfigured conversation Margo and Takai were having allowed for much less for Takai to dwell upon, giving him a leeway to plan his words carefully before fumbling around like an idiot. With what felt like a kind heart, Kaz questioned Takai's sleeping patterns as any casual conversation would go towards, giving him something to smile about once more. In truth, he'd actually slept pretty shit compared to previous nights, but it wasn't the worst of the worst. "Could be better, could be worse. Same as always. Honestly wish I had a bigger bed, comfier sheets and company to make it less like a rich man's prison cell."

Kaz picked up on Margo's previous intrusion and felt a sort of tension shoot out immediately. Takai didn't want to be the judge and jury once more, but he felt the irritated attitude lurk in every word she shed upon the newblood of the NSF. Truth-be-told, it wasn't uncommon for the recruits to find themselves subject to minor social neglect and the watchful eye of their superiors, as Takai had himself experienced, but it wasn't always necessary. They were easy to pick on, but most of the advice given was always in good spirit. Keep your head on, and keep your spirits up before someone else takes 'em. Something along those lines anyway. Takai frowned when Kaz commented on Margo's request to be taken care of. Kaz definitely had a point to what she meant. The NSF was indeed no safe environment for individuals, with death being less a nightmare and more a reality for those who strayed too far into the spider's web of crime and terror. Having a sturdy head on strong shoulders was definitely a requirement, at least mentally. The supposed weak-minded were never really strong enough to get through the arbitrary conditions of the silent Shadow-War. That's why people like Iwata had to leave in the first place.

Takai gently nudged Kaz with his elbow, as if to remind her that her attitude wasn't always going to get her through the NSF, or even the playing field, in one piece. He meant it in full kindness though. Alongside the slightly alluring Daiyu, Kaz was indeed someone Takai wanted to get to know better for the future of combat. They seemed efficient, if not reckless, in what they were told to do. Sometimes recklessness was welcomed to get through the bloodiness of the brutally honest campaign.

"Kaz, please. I get what you're trying to say, but sometimes we do need a little pick-me-up." Turning to the trainwreck of a conversationalist that was Margo, Takai smiled politely and nodded. "I'm not going to babysit you, if that's what you are asking for. I'm an Operator, I'll point you in the right directions here and there, but it's not in my job description to make sure you get everything right. I suggest you learn that skill yourself or you might find yourself in a bit of a tough spot within the next few days."

Overhead, the PA system announced a non-fatal casualty amidst training. Takai immediately lost his smile and stood up. He immediately packed his things, though not to go respond to the casualty itself. A quick curse or two beneath his breath, he turned to the two sat down on the table, announcing his disappointment in the revelation above him. Takai adjusted his hair and sleeves appropriately before configuring a few of his cybernetic muscle stabilisers within his neck. Finally, he returned his gaze to Kaz and Margo, before finally giving his thoughts.

"These operatives are sloppy and try too hard to prove themselves. I don't want to rely on some idiot who nearly gets himself killed in a training simulation, let alone when we are going out on the prowl for the Jinrai. Don't end up like them, please. I'm already stressed enough being told to look after a bunch of fucking clowns..." Without hesitation, Takai began to saunter towards the edge of the mess hall, towards the door and out into the main hallways once more. Time was slowly ticking away and he wanted to ensure that he had a decent amount of gear to conduct the investigation fairly and reliably before a verdict could be made on Iwata. Not only was the safety of the NSF on the line once more, but the life of Iwata herself was also resting on the squeeze of a trigger if she were so truly collaborating with the Jinrai. And so, Takai headed to the personal armouries to find his own equipment, though not before dialling an instantly memorised number into his communications device. "Shunsen here...Will depart in around fifteen minutes. Clearance..? Roger that, thanks. I'll call in my findings when it's over. Keep the suspect's overwatch team on standby just in case."

@Smike@GoreLore

[FalloutJack]

Her progress slowed as she reached the perimeter of the base. Security was going to have to check her ID and make sure she wasn't an imposter in a convincing Asagi suit, then confirm that there weren't any outstanding warrants for her capture on-file, followed by any suspicious activities that the people inside should be silently contacted about to confront her with. Nothing was going to come up, of course, and she was already logging into the base network with her cyber-eyes. The tech to do that was actually similar to how Stephen Hawking's computer control setup, as he was controlling his own utilities by the computer reading his eye movements. Similarly, and with a bit of voice action, Asagi interacted with wireless uplinks.

ACCESSING NSF NETWORK>>>>>

NAME: Asagi, Karine
PASSWORD: ********************

. . . . .DONE

National Security Force

Please choose from the options below:

Current Assignments
Case Files
Base Security <<<<<
NSF Personnel Files
Contact Information

LOADING. . . . .

Please choose from the options below:

Status Reports <<<<<
Surveilance
Equipment List
Evidence Locker
Cell Block

LOADING. . . . .

The main gates opened up as she was getting the full files on current developments, and she skimmed the reports as she coasted in and headed for her parking space at a much-lower speed. She had the concentration to park and read at roughly the same time, but if she wanted to hear the whole thing, she'd have the computer's audio voice read it back for her. It looked like...yes, the international appeal workers were in. Good for them. Well, if they worked, they worked, but then Asagi sighed as she saw the in-house casualty from a damn training exercise and shook her head. Still, she both was and wasn't keen on meeting the new blood, the reason being that while they needed new people, they would likely be new people, as in they might be inexperienced, or more jaded than she was, and that was a problem. Asagi herself could only be considered green at the beginning of her military career, and was pretty much professional by the time of the accident. Even if she were ever considered 'new' in the NSF, she was not new anymore. Not by a long shot.

Of course, I SHOULD see what their situation is like right now, just to be sure...

Aaand that's where she found Takai talking to Margo and Kazankova else was in the mess hall. Wait, was that a man, a woman, or in-between? Couldn't really tell. At least the tall girl was very obviously a tall girl. She didn't know them, of course. The files had been sent to her apartment, of course, but she'd been resting up from a recent case and hadn't been down at the base since. Some might say it was dangerous or unusual for her to be away from the safety OF said base, but Asagi needed time alone... Right now, it seemed time to meet the new crew and get acquainted, so anyone new would see this woman in the storm-gray longcoat coming and actually hitting the mess hall to get a relaxing tea. She'd already eaten, of course, but after officially being clocked in, she either wanted to be on the go soon on an assaignment or be able to relax and enjoy some hot tea, settling back into the workplace. She gave anyone present the business-like "Morning." and ordered, like there was no big deal.

[GrizzTheMauler]

_{Collab between @GrizzTheMauler & @MK2}

---

---

Takashi was in the middle of a relaxing shower in his room; when he was messaged about Bell's arrival. Not only that but an incident report was filed about him and some kids. "Not even a day and he has a demerit. Why is this our team?" The man grumbled. He looked over his file to refresh his memory as he dried off and dressed. He had hoped that he could bond to the American over similar interests. They both served in the military and in black ops. There was a certain rapport between those who were in that field. Sighing, he left his suite, tablet in one hand and hat in the other.

He was alerted that the man was currently eating in the mess hall so he mourned over there, appraising the man he saw sitting with Chelsea at a table. A bit disheveled and quite ravenous, Takashi noted that he looked the part of grizzled mercenary. Father would probably like him. He walked over to introduce himself. According to Intel, he only spoke English. He arrived at the tail end of Chelsea's tangent and he shook his head. Focusing on Bell.

"Good Morning, Bell-san. I am Special Officer Takashi Skygge. I am here to give you a base tour and Intake interview. Apologies, O’Connell-chan, but I must send him through Intake. We have a few confidential things to discuss but I will deposit him back with you. Though he might choose to sleep seeing as he's been on a long flight." He sat down across from him, putting his hat next to him as he looked at his tablet.

Chris looked up at the man in between taking bites of his breakfast. He would quickly glance between Chelsea and Takashi from where he was sitting. Leaning back into his head and placing his fork down onto his tray. He sighed and rolled his shoulders, the fatigue of his travel slowly creeping into him.

“Sorry Sweetheart.” Chris would say, glancing over at Chelsea and flashing her a grin as he continued.

“There's no rest for the wicked it seems. I’ll catch you later.” Chris would punctuate these words with a wink as he turned his attention to Takashi standing up with his half completed food tray. He sized the man up for a moment as he nodded and gestured with his free hand toward the door.

“I hope your tour comes with a free gift card Skygge, I got jipped for 5000 yen on the way over here.” Chris said with a smile as he waited for the man to lead him along.

Takashi shook his head. "One should learn to negotiate. You are American, the locals tend to take advantage if you cannot speak the language. You'll get paid soon and we will reimburse your travel expenses." His voice was smooth and flowed over the words he spoke. He picked up his hat and started along the tour. "We have many facilities here. Pools, training rooms, an advanced medical wing staffed by some of the best in the field. There are engineers who can adjust any augment you have. Though getting new ones will be taken from your pay."

Takashi showed him to the various places, noting that the blood in the training room was freshly cleaned, the smell of chemicals in the air. He skipped past the armor and showed him to one of the meeting rooms. "Have a seat, Bell-san. I would like to begin the interview. Any questions about the facilities can happen after."

Chris released a loud Yawn and cracked his back and knuckles as he pulled out the chair in the Interview room and sat without much Preamble, he was tired and eager to get through the formalities and talks so he could find a rack and catch up on some sleep. He did however, note the interior of the interview room, reminding him a little of the Cop shows Claire and Junior liked to watch sometimes.

“Say Chief, Am I goin’ to need a lawyer here? Right to remain silent all that shit?” Chris asked with a grin as he waited for the man to sit down in front of him and begin asking his questions.

“I know my rights!”’ Chris exclaimed as he held up his hands and chuckled.

"You've already signed the waivers. I'm here to finalize my folder on you." He taps his tablet, drawing up a folder with a picture of him. This one shows him holding up the kid. "And award you your first demerit for use of excessive force." He raised an eyebrow at Chris. "You are on foreign soil, Bell-san. We do things differently. None of the others will see this. Only myself and Shumei-dono will be seeing this. I handle all duties in relation to Assets. Please do not cause more trouble for me. It will not be pretty. I already have to deal with several troublesome agents."

He shook his head, tapping the screen and pulling up a file written in japanese and a stylus. "Now… I have some questions to ask you…. What happened, in your words, in Syria.

Chris leaned back in his chair and looked at the photo of him with the guy he jumped. He grimaced at the word demerit, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Pictures don’t always tell the full story there hoss. If saving a kid from two thugs is demerit worthy in this outfit, be my guest.” Chris would then fall silent at the mention of Syria. He figured things like this was going to happen, just maybe not on the first day of his time here with the NSF.

Chris managed a smile still as he answered the man's question.
“I was a Staff Sergeant in the Marines, Squad Leader. I did my job, but I figure that’s not what you want to hear, huh?” Chris paused as he drummed his fingers on the table before continuing.

“I made a judgement call in Syria, one that I thought would save the lives of my men. Turns out I didn’t need to make that call, and an innocent woman got hurt.” Chris sighed and looked at the man across from him.

“Do you really want details? It’s all in the file I’m more than sure. Maybe we move on? Talk about it over some drinks at a bar if you really want to hear my thoughts and feelings on the whole deal?” Chris kept his smile as he watched Takashi for his reaction to the answer, hoping he’d accept it.

Takashi watched him as he spoke. He'd read the report but they rarely told the full stories. He made a note to block the demerit until further investigation. He mulled over the offer for drinks. "It would have to be on a day off. Though I doubt you know of any places so I'll have to show you around."

He moved on to the next point of interest in his file. "It says here that… You have a son. Tell me about your family, Bell-san."

Chris relaxed when the man moved on from the topic of Syria,he half expected he’d spend the next hour being grilled on the subject, thankfully this guy seemed alright.

“Yeah sure, day off, I didn’t know we had those.” Chris said with a grin as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it and pulling out a photo of himself,his ex wife and his son at an event for Junior.

“Yeah, I have a 10 year old and an ex-wife that hates me, but loves my money.” Chris said with a chuckle as he slid over the picture.

“Take a look. That picture is from Junior’s Karate class. He got his Orange Belt, kid likes combat sports, and video games.”

The Picture displayed a young, pudgey looking boy standing in the middle of the frame smiling wide despite the visible missing baby teeth in various spots of his smile. He looked a lot like Chris, but absent the features and wrinkles of the man today. To his left, a slender, beautiful woman who’s also smiling. She has shoulder length red hair with a strands of it Tied behind her head in a pair of short braids held together with a frayed hairband. To the boys right was Chris himself, but less messy. He stood tall, his blond hair cut short, and clean shaven. He had a proud look in his eye as in the picture he ruffled his sons hair.

“Kid really wanted that Orange belt. I think he’s close to Blue now.” Chris smiled as he thought of the memory in that photo.

“What about you? Got any minime’s running around?”

Takashi nodded at the picture. He marked more notes in his tablet. He seemed honorable and loyal. "I do not have any children. I am not opposed to it. There are a few… Reasons."

He examined the photo noting the woman. "Do you mind telling me why you got divorced? From what I can see, you would make an excellent provider. Most Mercenary incomes can allow them to live much better lifestyles. Especially at your level." He had received a copy of the divorce papers, and several red flags had shown up to him, though he doubted Chris would know about that. He was discreet in his inquiry.

“Well, take your pick boss.” Chris said as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he recalled.

“Married right out of highschool, Back then I was supposed to only be joining the Marines So I could pay for college, ended up doing ten years. Away for months at a time, wasn’t there when Junior was born.” Chris paused then, the memory of him missing Junior’s birth bringing an uncharacteristic frown to his face. He continued after a moment.

“Listen man, I kept leaving. And She got tired of waiting at home for me. That’s life. Now she makes me miserable with every one on one conversation, and I'm still an excellent provider. I go off and do what I do.. And she and by proxy her boyfriend benefit off the money I send to Junior.” Chris cleared his throat before continuing.

“But uh, thanks for the compliment hoss. Glad to see my reputation precedes itself.” Grinned at the man before asking.

“Hey, so how am I doing? I see you scribbling, are you intelligence folk goin’ to take a quiz on Christian Bell? Or am I in trouble here?”

Takashi nods. "Much better than Jeong. I scared him too much apparently and he quit. He was supposed to work under me." He shrugs, continuing to write. He sets the stylus down and looks Chris in the eye. "I don't plan on showing anyone other than Shumei-dono my report. I have verified the data that I have collected. We'll go get your weapons checked and I'll show you to the dorms."

He stands up, holding the door for Chris and leading him toward the armory. Along the way he gave Chris his ID card and badge, telling him not to lose it. "The dorms are this way, through the main garden." He led Chris through the grounds, showing him the various sights. He pointed out the walled off garden calling it the Kotei Garden, or the Emperor's Garden, where High Tea would be had at 2 every day and he explained that the dress code was formal. "You may use the formal dress uniform if you must. It is part of our culture here and I will be providing Japanese lessons. So that you don't let a child scam you of your money again."

Chris listened as the man led him along. All in all this was probably the easiest debrief interview he’d ever been a part of. He couldn’t really get a read on Takashi, and as it stood Chris didn’t know if he cared to. He walked beside the man the entire way commenting.

“Tea? In Formal dress attire. Everyday. Is it mandatory? And is the weepy one we met in the cafeteria going to attend? I tell ya hoss, I don’t know what sort of layers her onion has, but hooly shiit. I don’t know if having her naked in your bed is worth finding out huh?” Chris patted the man on the back as he commented on the blonde that tried to talk to him earlier in the day.

Chris then sighed as he cracked his neck, clipping his badge to his belt he would ask.

“Tea time and easy interviews are all well and good. But uh, how do I start to get work here huh? Is there a spook I talk to to get the names I need to cross off? Do I need to go.. Door to door and ask the citizens of Japan if they happen to have ridiculous Imperialistic leanings? Could never happen by the way, but that’s not here nor there.” Chris refrained from getting political further as he looped his fingers around his belt buckle and waited for an answer.

“So what’ll it be?”

Takashi grunted. "O'Connell-san is not my lover. I do not sleep with women… And It has been a long time since I've slept with a man. I haven't had the time. My work keeps me busy. She will likely attend. She said she was interested in learning about Japan."

Takashi stops by the entrance to the dorms, showing him the Task Board. "This is where your shifts are located. You will be notified on your tablet any changes. Do not lose it. We already had a soft beach in the last week. Your room and mine are down this way. Your luggage has already been brought in. I understand you've been up for a long time so I will let you rest, unless you have any questions?"\

“Nope, no questions boss. Thanks for.. Taking care of my luggage, and uh, sorry about any misunderstanding there.. Tried my hand at guy talk, guess it doesn’t land when there's a language barrier. My mistake.” Chris stepped forward toward the Task-board and turned back to Takashi, holding out a hand.
“I’ll set an alarm for two.” Chris smiled at the man.

Takashi nods, shaking Chris' hand. "I haven't spent enough time in America with my grandparents to really catch up on the complexities of English. Forgive me, Bell-san. If you are unable to make it to Tea, it is not a problem. I'll let you know when I'm free for those drinks. Probably the weekend. Sleep well." Takashi left him there, heading to his office to finish his report. Always a new one every day. That never changed. But he was confident that Chris would make a good addition. His records showed that. Only time would tell, and Takashi was a very patient man.

[Landaus Five-One]

---

Chelsea just sighed a bit deeply because of all the problems going on with her, in her mind. It’s a constant thing with her, which doesn’t help her mood much. However, she saw the Special Officer Takashi Skygge enter the Mess Hall, it’s pretty easily to recognize him since he’s so tall. She gave Takashi a small smile since he is friendly enough. However, her smile vanished because of what he had said about taking Chris Bell for an interview and a tour. It was pretty obvious from Chris’ appearance he was extremely exhausted. ”It’s not a problem, Takashi-senpai. I felt a bit lost when I first arrived here...” Chelsea said, with honesty in her voice. She still feels lost but its mostly because of her mental state and trying to stay out of everyone’s ways. It will take a long time for her to change into something better than she is right now.

It didn’t take much time for Chris to start speaking, which she just sighed a bit when he winked at her with a grin. She definitely knew from that point, it was definitely Chris Bell that her father Gregory was talking about. ”Catch you later, I suppose to Chris… Hope you have a good sleep since you look exhausted.” Chelsea said, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. It was mostly because Chris Bell definitely has a humor about him. She remembered the tea time, with Takashi and that’s at 2pm. ”...I do have an interest in tea time to learn about Japanese Culture… but I am a bit nervous about it. However, its better to try something new instead of constantly staying out of everyone’s way. But… I am a bit scared to do so.” Chelsea thought to herself, with slightly a deep sigh. It was obvious it bothers her but she needs to change her focus on trying to become better and not constantly in a deep depression. She saw Chris Bell and Takashi leave the mess hall since Takashi is definitely a good tour guide of the NSF HQ.

Chelsea continued to eat her food, which she finished it since she didn’t really get that much to eat compared to other NSF operatives in the mess hall. She happily drank the rest of her apple juice, however. It was a bit cute to see her reaction of finishing it. However, she looked around the mess hall to see if anyone entered and that was when she noticed Asagi, which said morning to everyone. ”Morning, to you Asagi-san.” Chelsea said in Japanese. It took her a bit to notice the fact that Takai wasn’t here anymore, which caused her to look straight down at her tray because she did kinda stare at Ms. Bykov. Kaz scared her a bit much, which she decided to get up from her seat so there can’t be another confrontation with the scary Russian-American. ”...Shit… I hope she doesn’t yell at me...” Chelsea thought to herself, with a definite terrified look on her face.

She picked up her tray, which she walked to the place where you drop off the tray for it to be cleaned. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to be yelled at by Kaz, yet again. She walked carefully out of the mess hall, which it was a bit of a cowardly move. ”...I have a feeling my father would… probably tell me to repair relationships with actions… but I’m a bit too afraid… of Kaz to even try that.” Chelsea thought to herself, with flight in mind since she can’t really fight Kaz or try to talk to her. She couldn’t really put her finger on why Kaz was so angry, however, she didn’t really pry into why that is. It’s mostly because of the fact she is a failure to even protect Hattori Naomi.

She was walking a bit aimlessly, until she stopped herself near the training rooms, however she just leaned on the wall. It was only because she felt able to think to herself near the training rooms. ”I am so sorry… Hattori’s I do hope you can ever forgive me. However, her father was acting a bit weird… I wonder why he said my mother’s name under his breath...” Chelsea thought to herself, a bit frustrated in why he said that after she was freed from his underground prison. It never made any sense, in why, or why he said something about a woman by the name of Daichi Keiko. She doesn’t really know Hattori Akechi’s reasons for wanting her mother Fiona out of all people or what Daichi Keiko has to do of all things. However, she is definitely afraid of Hattori Akechi much more than it seems under the surface.

@FalloutJack@Mk2@GrizzTheMauler

[silvermist1116]

Beep

Beep

Beep

Seohyung woke to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor attached to his chest. The second time it’s happened this week. The sixth time this month. And the umpteenth time in the year and a half, since he’s joined the NSF. The doctors and nurses knew his name more than any other member. Not something he was proud of nor ashamed. It just was. He already knew how they treated his injuries. There was an IV in his arm for blood replenishing medicine and fluids. The stab wounds were covered with a sealing mesh that healed the wounds and numbed the pain. They couldn’t do anything about the bruise on his thigh or the one on his back. The cuts on his face pulled tight when he moved his face. No matter. It’s not the worst pain he’s ever been in and it won’t be the last. He turned on the digital panel on the bed rail, called the nurse, then pressed the up button to elevate himself upright. His doctor came in a few moments later.

“Kamenashi-san, you really have to stop doing this. As cute as you are, I don’t care to see your face more than every once in awhile,” Dr. Nakamaru said, her hands were in her pockets. She was a tiny woman with a stern face and a few strands of gray hair mixed with her black. 

Seohyung smiled slightly and snorted. She used to say his face was the only refreshing thing about him. Of all the things people said to him over the years, no one’s ever complimented his looks. Do you look like the Korean half or the Japanese half? or Ugly Korean bastard were more in line when anyone said something about his face. 

“I’m sorry, sensei.” He said it every time he saw her and every time it’s just as sincere, but he couldn’t stop. There was too much at stake. The one time he tried nearly killed him and he couldn’t go there again. He refused to waste the life his mother was determined to give him or the kindness of the soldier that brought him home to his father. So this was the way it had to be. He’d train, survive, do what others like him are too afraid to do and get rid of the nationalist that threaten their way of life.

“I know you are, kid.” She sighed and pressed a button on the edge of his bed. A holographic diagram of his body appeared. She isolated the areas he injured and zoomed into the wound on his side. “This was pretty deep. Any further to the right and it would’ve fucked up your kidney.” She zoomed on his stomach. “Wasn’t as deep here.” She went to his face. “The cuts are shallow and shouldn’t scar.” Then she separated his right leg from the rest of his body and spun the hologram around to show the center of his back. “These are the areas you were shot. Just deep bruising. Can’t do anything about it, but prescribe pain medication.” She swiped right and pulled up his medical history. 

The list was extensive. All dates from the last two years, and the one at the bottom from fourteen years ago. A notification came in across the top. It was a message from Dr. Kitayama, the NSF psychologist. There’s only one reason there’s a message on his file. Fuck. He’ll no doubt have to go see him soon. “Which you won’t take anyway. I patched you up with the mesh, bandaged the cuts on your face, and have you on a blood replenishment.” She opened the one for today, then looked at him. “How are you feeling?” 

Seohyung twisted his sides, just dull aches, nothing too bad. The bruises throbbed like hell, but they’ll be worse tomorrow. “I’m fine. The wounds barely hurt and the bruises hurt the worst.”

“Okay, good.” She entered his response. “I’ll get the nurse to discharge you once you’re done with the fluids.” She pressed the button again and the hologram went away. “I don’t hope to see you again anytime soon, but I’ll have a better chance reaching Nirvana. Have a good day, Kamenashi-san.” 

Seohyung left the medical wing on a barely discernible limp. He pushed through the hellish pain like he did everything else in life; with the conviction that if he didn’t, then the end was nigh. It was a little after 1230. Not much time left for him to deep cleanse and soak, before High Tea at 1400. The medical wing wasn’t close to the dorms. He passed through the training hall. Room 11 was already cleaned up like he hadn’t been there at all. He’ll be back at it tomorrow. He passed several co-workers on the way. Some whispered behind his back, called him Suicidal Seo, while others gave him scathing looks. He didn’t pay them any mind. None of them matter off the field. All they needed to do was watch his back during duty. 

By the time he got to his room his leg shook, he grimaced, hurried into his room, then locked the door behind him. 1245. Not much time given the pain he’s in. He took off his boots at the door.

“Usagaya, start the bath.”

Hai, Kame-chan! A cute playful robotic voice answered. The bath water ran in his bathroom.

“Usagaya, ready for High Tea.”

Hai, Kame-chan!

Seohyung peeled off his intra suit and put it in the repair bin with the rest of the suits he has to send in. “Usagaya, remind me to get my intra suits repaired.”

Hai, Kame-chan!

He entered the bathroom, door slid closed behind him. He saw himself for the first time since that morning. He looked like hell, nothing new. His face had bandages, scars from cuts and stabbings were home on his body from his shoulders to his arms to his abdomen and down his legs. The skin mesh for his knees was gone. The metal shone in the light, his lungs tightened up, his mind empty of the memories, but he’ll never forget the fear he felt that day. Never again. He squeezed his hands tight, closed his eyes, then inhaled for five seconds, held for four, then exhaled for seven. After several minutes he opened his eyes, more relaxed, and ready to get on with his day. He soaped up then cleaned off with the detachable shower head, before he climbed into the bath to soak. It felt great for his bruises.

1325 Kame-chan!

Seohyung didn’t want to leave the bath, but he had a commitment to make. He's never missed High Tea if he could help it. He rose from the tub, dried off with a towel, grabbed a skin mesh from the cabinet and stretched it over his knees' augmentation. The mesh adhered to his skin, then turned color to match his skin tone. His thick hair was to the bottom of his ears. He couldn’t leave it down, so he gelled it, then slicked it back off his face how he liked it. He attached his small hoop earrings in each ear, then went into his bedroom. In the center of his small rotating closet was his High Tea wear. A white button up shirt, a black bowtie with gold wings, black slim fit slacks, and black dress shoes. He dressed, fastened his clip on bowtie, and checked his appearance in his closet mirror. Everything was perfect. Good. He put his shoes on at the door, locked up behind him, and left for Kotei Garden.

[Letter Bee]

Ashton Andrews-Hyuga

Disappointed at not being able to contact the Administrator, Ashton Andrews went back to his room after receiving the notification of the upcoming tea party mentioned on the task board. After making sure his computers were untouched, he went to his closet and got out a nice formal suit - Paid for with his saved-up salary - whose soft black color was pleasing to Ashton’s eyes. He also had a bowtie of the same color, one that looked embarrassingly juvenile, but hey, he was still a kid.

Speaking of being a kid, Ashton did not like being disappointed. However, he also knew that life won’t give him whatever he wanted just because he wanted it. So he forgot all about his desire to approach the Administrator and instead decided to focus on the people within his group… Even though a recent notification stated that one of his would-be teammates was a bit of a child hater. Ashton, being a child himself, strongly disliked child haters, especially those who would inflict physical harm on people like him.

Nevertheless, that was a matter to dismiss - He had socialization to do! Ashton wanted friends and so he’d get some from the adults in the NSF by demonstrating his talents and his idealistic conviction and his adorableness. He may have failed in getting the Administrator’s attention, but he can and will show the adults that he was worth bringing into their organization.

Walking to where High Tea was going to be set, plotting out a route to the Emperor’s Garden using both his smartphone and his eyes - The latter took precedence to the former as smartphones were capable of error - Ashton belatedly realized that what he thought was conviction may actually be arrogance, but also knew that such a feeling cannot be corrected in just a few moments - He’d just have to be more self-aware of what he felt and thought from now on.

Upon arrival, Ashton saw that a varied cast of… People were arriving at the gardens as well, including Chris and Chelsea - He was uncomfortable with the former for obvious reasons, while as for the latter, his hormones and the fact that he was attracted to women as well as men made the buxom lady very… Unsettling for him. And of course, it was rumored that Seohyung, the Korean with a dark past, a dark past Ashton was barely able to avoid, was coming and never missed occasions like this.

Upon seeing Seohyung or someone who looked like him arriving at the garden, Ashton waved hi and said in Japanese, “Hajimemashite (Happy to meet you for the first time)! My name is Ashton Andrews-Hyuga - Tech Support Cadet and also a Rigger and Hacker!”

@GrizzTheMauler@Landaus Five-One@MK2@silvermist1116

[GrizzTheMauler]

---

Checking his watch, Takashi nodded as he filed his last report and went into his rooms to ready himself for High Tea. It was a social event he hosted nearly daily for the team, attempting to teach them the language and culture of Japan. The first part of it, was the fashion. as an heir to one of the oldest families in Japan, Takashi was expected to dress the part at social events, and liked a good suit. He'd acquired a custom suit made of silk from the Yamato Autumn Collection, designed by Fukuto Shiruku. She was usually his tailor, since he could not find fault in her creations. This design, crafted to be one of a kind in varying colors, of which she'd given him the black variant of. One for fashion and use, the inside of the suit was comprised of ballistic weave that also was quite useful in deterring sharp objects. She'd proved it with the test fit which no doubt scarred the man a little. She was known for her eccentricities and mannerisms.

The suit cut a tight fit on Takashi's body and accentuated all the right places. For a man larger than most, he could cut the look of a Scion of one of Japan's oldest and wealthiest families. He adjusted his suit in the mirror and attached both his tanto and pistol in their hidden holsters. He nodded to himself and left his room. The garden was a gift from his grandfather to Shumei, both of them having known each other for a long time. It was a beautiful venue, all built around a small island in the middle of a clear stream that ran through the area. A wooden bridge on either side and smooth stones for walking on top of the water were the foundation. The venue itself was able to host year round events, having both A/C and central heating. In the very center there was a koi pond that was lovingly tended to. Lanterns hung about unlit though Takashi knew from experience that they were more than mere decorations. Stepping into the garden proper, he smelled the fresh flowers and admired the subtle scent of sakura flowers.

He observed the catering staff arranging the tables and setting up food as everyone started to arrive. He himself took his place at the head of the table, his jacket being taken by staff to be hung up. His eyes scanned over the others as they arrived, his face impassive and unreadable. As he sat in the chair he looked every bit the Nobleman that his ancestry hailed from. He held a set of calligraphy brushes and ink and was drawing a poem on an empty scroll. After assessing the others with a small nod he returned to his work. Those who could read the kanji would know that he was reciting the First song of the Classic of Poetry from memory. He had already completed a drawing of a dragon and was focused intently on his work.

When the clock turned 2, he addressed the group in Japanese and English; "Welcome, minna-san. Shall we begin High Tea? Today's selection comes from the fresh bounty of the season. We have roasted green tea, chestnuts and pralines along with a selection of cookies I am sure you will enjoy long with traditional tea biscuits. As for pies, we have strawberry and rhubarb, sweet potato and carrot and of course, apple and pecan pie. Take off your coats, have a seat and we shall begin."

[Smike]

Once she had vocalized her opinion on her fellow agent's apparent need of a watchful eye Kaz turned back to her plate and finished her meal, caring more about the few remaining bits of egg on her plate than a weak link whose first action was to kiss the ass of the first superior they could find. God, the NSF was really letting in anyone it seemed. Had Margo ever actually been in a fight? That seemed unlikely. Just how many incompetents and failures was she expected to work with. The lumbering bear of a woman was grateful that Takai seemed more talkative than she was at the moment. He was the people person, not here. Better to let him handle the children before she snapped and screamed at one of them. She shrugged at the mention of a better bed and a companion to fill it, fumbling around her pockets for another cigarette. "They all sound very nice." she replied, her hesitant Japanese concealing her lie. Lighting up and taking a puff Kaz leaned back in her chair, waiting for Takai to discretely signal Margo to leave.

The sharp elbow to the ribs made her grunt in annoyance, turning her head to glare at the more experienced operative. "I would appreciate if you did not do that." Her tone was level but only just, her teeth grinding the butt of her cigarette as she drummed her fingers against the table. Just that little annoyance was enough for her to get pissed off, Bykov blowing smoke through her nostrils as she began to count to herself.

One, two, three, four...

By the time she got to ten it had subsided, Kaz awkwardly clapping a hand on Margo's shoulder. "I apologize. You will do fine." Neither a stellar apology or especially reassuring, it was the best he was going to get. Kaz had already dropped Margo from her mind, focusing on Takai and the face on his datapad. "You're going on a mission? I will come with." Anything to escape the monotony of daily life in the HQ. All she could do there was sit in her room or send time in the gym. It wasn't like she had many friends. Kaz stood up and followed her temporary partner out o the cafeteria, passing Asagi and Chelsea on her way. A limp wristed wave was all the answer Asagi got, but it was better than what she gave Chelsea. Her fellow American, another utter fuck up who shouldn't have been let out of the house without a safety helmet and bright yellow vest. Margo being scared was one thing but this bitch got the girl she was supposed to be protecting killed cuz she was too shitfaced to function properly. Any fireteam she was on was instantly weaker, endangered by the incredibly liability that was the Californian whore who had been hired for her looks."I hope you know that if I see you drink a single drop, I will boot your ass back on the street corner where it belongs so fast my foot's going to break the fucking sound barrier." she warned, switching to their shared language. "Just a little something for you to keep in mind."

Once in the armory she set about checking out all her gear, craning her neck to shoot Takai a questioning glance. "Am I driving?"

-----------------


Daiyu had to force herself to get ready for the tea party that was being held. She knew that she really ought to go, both to socialize with her teammates and to keep her cover strong, but there was absolutely nothing enjoyable about any tea party she had ever attended. The food was always insubstantial pastries and delicate snack foods, most of the conversation dreary and dull. She didn't even like tea all that much, preferring coffee or energy drinks to keep her going. And it wasn't like the people attending made up for it. Out of all the obscenely wealthy gangsters, movie stars, tycoons, heirs and heiresses she dealt regular, it was the ones that stood on ceremony that were her least favorite. Whether they were stuffy New Englanders that insisted on a morning scotch before going to go play polo or hardline Japanese nationalists that talked about the the glory of the days of the samurai, 95% of them were assholes. There where many other things that she would could have done instead of consort with some douchebag who still insisted on making their drink with a bamboo whisk because "that's how it was in the good old days."

But consort she must, since her whole identity was built around being one of those stuffy losers herself. So after a long shower and a few minutes spent sending put emails to clients and arranging the purchase of yet another "Geisha" bar that catered to drunk American sailor on leave she began to get ready. Her hair was tied up in a bun and speared through with ornamental pins, the tattoos on her back and ribs covered by one of the kimonos in her closet, deciding to forgo the risque look she sometimes favored when dealing with lecherous old men. Better to play it safe for now. Her phone was set to silent and the wooden geta kept in her bag slipped onto her feet and off she went, clacking loudly down the hallways and into the Emperor's Garden. A name that seemed to promise pretension, how lovely.

She arrived with a pleasant smile on her immaculately made up face and her robotic hand hand free for all to see (it made for good conversation), ready to exchange meaningless pleasantries in the name of societal custom. Taking a quick look around she took stock of who had shown up so far: Ashton Andrews-Hyuga, the NSF's resident hacker and schoolboy, was looking adorably out of place in the suit he had probably bought for himself and the tie he definitely had. Seohyung Kamenashi, Suicidal Seo. He looked like his nickname with the bandages. If Daiyu had to guess it had been him that made Command issue a warning about killing yourself in training. And of course the man of the hour, Takashi Skygge himself. Time to kiss ass and see how he responded.

"Good afternoon and thank you for the invitation Skygge-san." she said politely, giving him a bow. "I'm grateful for your hospitality." As she rose up she let her eyes shine at the sight of his suit. "Is that Shiriku's handiwork? You have very good taste." She busied herself until 2 by staring at the hand drawn dragon, the first actually interesting thing she had seen so far. At least as far as artwork was concerned, Takashi seemed good enough. Without a coat to put away Daiyu simply took a sit, silently annoyed that her assumption about the food was correct. But like a good guest she showed nothing except an easygoing contentedness, playing the part of cultured billionaire.

[MK2]

---

Six hours.

After Takashi left Chris, he managed to sleep for Six, dreamless hours. His alarm went off at noon, and he opened his eyes and silently rolled out of the bed and began to prepare for the event Takashi mentioned to him earlier in the day. After a long hot shower, Chris took the time to look at himself in the mirror of the bathroom. He ran a hand through his hair, it was getting longer than he’d like.

“You need a Haircut Bell.” Chris muttered to himself as he began to run a hand along his face, feeling the roughness of his facial hair as he grimaced. Chris brushed his teeth and combed his hair sweeping it neatly straight back with gel to finish his ritual in the bathroom, but decided to skip on the shave, deciding to save a little time so he wouldn’t be late to this gathering.

He’d then attached the spring loaded knife to his left forearm and tested the mechanism, with a flick of his wrist the blade sprang forth. Good. Chris pushed the blade back into its resting position and got to work on the suit he’d wear for the event. He figured he might need something formal, and with only an hour to prepare he decided the NSF military uniform Takashi mentioned would make him late. So he went into his luggage and took out the dull black suit and white dress shirt he wore every christmas back when he was a Blackwatch Operator.

“Haven’t worn it in a year.. Should still fit.” Chris thought to himself as he patted himself in the stomach, letting his hand run along his skin. He was far from the Mr.Olympia competition, but he wasn’t sporting a dad bod or a beer gut… yet. Chris got to work methodically ironing out the wrinkles of the suit, he couldn’t get it pressed,but it’d have to do. Slowly and methodically he began putting on the suit as he finished ironing it. First the white long sleeved shirt, then the pants. Chris checked his watch after he finished polishing and putting on his dress shoes. 1:15 the clock read, so Chris quickly tied a blue tie loosely around his neck and put on the coat, holstering his pistol into a shoulder holster he had under the suit’s coat. He gave himself one final look in the mirror and nodded to himself approvingly.

“If nothing else.. I can clean up nicely.” Chris thought to himself as he made his way to the garden.

Upon entering he realized just how out of his depth he really was. Takashi entered in one of the finest suits Chris had ever seen, and he was just the beginning. Just about everyone that entered the garden seemed to be wearing something expensive, form fitting, or traditional to Japanese culture. Chris looked down at the suit he pulled out of his luggage. It was five years old, and any who looked could tell. The color was fading, and the fabric was starting to wear after its no doubt repeated visits to a washer. All the same Chris tried his best to blend in. Figuring it’d be better to disappear to the back of the garden than to be escorted out for being under dressed for the occasion. He silently put a cigarette to his mouth, not quite yet lighting it as he glanced upward and noticed a younger kid announcing his presence.
He couldn’t be much older than the girl he saved earlier in the day at the bus depot. And he was better dressed than Chris.

“Great” Chris thought. As he shook his head. The words being spoken by all but Takashi being lost on him, he resorted to people watching as he lit the cigarette hanging from his mouth in the back of the room. He watched a skinny boy with soft facial features, but covered in bandages enter the room, he also watched an objectively beautiful woman in traditional Japanese garb walk over to Takashi and speak words to him he couldn’t make out.

He took a drag of his cigarette and kept glancing about the room until Takashi called the room to sit. He would linger for a while, trying to get the most out of his cigarette before making his way over, putting out the nub on the heel of his dress shoes. He relinquished his coat, and made his way over to sit down, tightening the shoulder holster closer to his body in order to avoid it swaying around. He would then take a seat, offering anyone who looked at him a polite smile and half nod.