DJAtomika

The Ward

Aaron followed along a few steps until the group reached the first junction. Obviously the first of many. The burly man he'd stopped earlier went ahead a few paces to shine his flashlight down each hallway to indicate the fork in the road and that a decision needed to be made. The other three people didn't seem to make concrete judgements, so Aaron stepped up to the plate.

"Let's check the left first. If nothing comes of it, we come back here and go the other way. Either way, let's try and follow that blue line on the wall."

At a slow and steady pace, Aaron took the lead, his silenced pistol now out and in one hand with his flashlight in the other. He pointed the firearm straight ahead and braced his flashlight-holding forearm underneath his right wrist, holding the light backhand to illuminate his path as he took the first few tentative steps into the hallway on the left.

The Ward

"Blue 5, huh? Well I suppose we should-"

And then one of the group, a taller, burly man, made a move and left the group, heading into the borehole without waiting for anyone else. Probably the worst thing he could do in a situation like this. Aaron swore, tightened the strap of his rifle and ran after.

"Hey! Wait!"

Once he'd caught up with the bigger man, he grabbed him by the shoulder and attempted to spin him around in a threatening manner. But the man was too burly and all he did was make himself stumble as the walking refrigerator tromped off into the darkness. More than a little pissed, he yelled at the vanishing figure.

"The fuck, man?! We're all stuck down here without a god damn clue of what's ahead of us, and you want to just waltz on ahead and get yourself killed by yourself?!"

The Ward

Aaron rubbed his wrists as the harness around him undid itself and he could step free from the armatures that had lowered them down into the depths. His breaths were deep and slow in the confines of his gas mask that he'd woken up in, although the rest of the suit didn't feel as uncomfortable. It calmed him, this ritual, and it was a holdover from somewhere, some time long ago.

He couldn't remember why or how, but it was like instinct. The sleep he'd had before waking up in a suit, trussed up like a turkey with a stuffy gas mask on his face was oddly calming and he didn't feel panic. Only a sense of grim unease and foreboding, tempered by some sort of willpower that he didn't really know he had or whose origins he understood.

Around him were his presumed companions, released from their own harnesses and left to their own devices. But then the Warden's voice boomed from above: a briefing, as it were. Bags of equipment and supplies ferried down from above to be distributed equally among themselves, which is what he did. His hands worked like they had a mind of their own, attaching pouches and boxes to the appropriate places on the vest he had, along with a knife on his left shoulder, handle outwards. But he took only what he deemed necessary for himself, leaving enough for the others to stock up based on their own needs.

Then came weaponry. There were enough of both sidearms to sufficiently arm himself and his three companions, so he took both the semi-auto and silenced pistol and shoved them roughly into holsters on his tactical rig; silenced on his thigh, semi-auto on his chest with the grip oriented towards his right side. And finally, he took the assault rifle. It sat very well in his arms and with a practised eye, he looked over his weapons; removing the magazine to check his round count, slapping it back into the weapon, chambering a round and performing a quick press check to make sure the round sat within the chamber.

Then a quick click of the safety to turn it on, before he continued with his sidearms. Methodical, slow and measured in his actions, it wasn't until he finished checking the ammunition and safety of the bolt-action pistol did he talk.

"No idea. But whatever it is, we do it or we die here. Alone."

The Ward

Aaron Vasquez

Full Name:
Aaron Emilio Vasquez

Age:
23

Nationality:
United States

Appearance:
Aaron is around 5'9", weighing roughly 177 pounds. He is built like an athlete, well-muscled body, toned physique, with short-cropped dark brown hair and equally dark brown eyes. He has a single scar on his nose going across the bridge, along with a gang sleeve tattoo on his right arm of the Grim Reaper holding a long scythe.

Background:
[INMATE HISTORY EXPUNGED BY WARDEN]

Talents:
Aaron is a fighter by nature. He has experience in fighting with his fists and feet, along with the athleticism of a brawler.

Personal Effect:
A pair of USMC dog tags on a simple chain. They contain his full name, date of birth, blood type and religion. The date of birth has been scratched out.

The Ward

Aaron Vasquez

Full Name:
Aaron Emilio Vasquez

Age:
23

Nationality:
United States

Appearance:
Aaron is around 5'9", weighing roughly 177 pounds. He is built like an athlete, well-muscled body, toned physique, with short-cropped dark brown hair and equally dark brown eyes. He has a single scar on his nose going across the bridge, along with a gang sleeve tattoo on his right arm of the Grim Reaper holding a long scythe.

Background:
[INMATE HISTORY EXPUNGED BY WARDEN]

Talents:
Aaron is a fighter by nature. He has experience in fighting with his fists and feet, along with the athleticism of a brawler.

Personal Effect:
A pair of USMC dog tags on a simple chain. They contain his full name, date of birth, blood type and religion. The date of birth has been scratched out.

The Ward

Interested.

Persona: Shadow of Virtuality (Persona RP except with futuristic cyberpunk VR and hackers; prior knowledge not required)

Interested.

R E D U X .// 2047 //.

"Can I say something? This is one of the shittiest plans I've ever heard of. We don't even know if they have technology that can sense when someone's messing with their own networks, disguised or not. Plus what's to say that they don't have facial recognition software in their CCTV cameras? If even one of them recognises me for who I am, the whole thing's a bust."

Alex rolled his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. Clandestine operations were never his strong suit in the SAS. He'd spent his time busting down doors and being a human riot shield for his more human teammates. But if they needed something broken, he could definitely do it. It all depended on how their plan unfolded, and right now it looked like a piece of wet rice paper being used to stop an 18-wheeler from crashing.

Then again, it was the only plan they had. As stupid and as crazy as it sounded, they had the know-how. The powers to do so and possibly even the ability to get away from it all mostly unscathed. Alex then ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Well, as crazy as it all sounds, if we're in, we go all in. Because I sure as hell don't have the resources I used to have during service. Or the power. But if we're doing this, we need to depend on each other and trust everyone to do their things. Even the people we only just met and can't trust yet." Alex eyed Peterson with that last one.

Task Force: Sentinel - Occult Covert Operations

I promise I haven't forgotten about this, but my current concept is an old character of mine. A photojournalist who gets caught up in the world of the supernatural. Thinking of making him a mage in this RP, with his foci of power being his camera.

Task Force: Sentinel - Occult Covert Operations

@StormWolf
You know, I was taking a look at the accepted characters to get some inspiration, one ability stood out.

Focus, Commitment, Sheer Will

Are you a listener of The Orpheus Protocol?