Haha

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

This is a really fun RP, Haru.

@Zoey White

Don’t give me compliments, I’m only a subpar GM.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

C H A P T E R 1

N o t A S i n g l e S t a r
_________________________________

Fort Hood, Texas
—- // JANUARY 23

@Zoey White
The perverted handler stood dumbfounded with a mouth agape as she responded to his kind words by calling him a 'weirdo', the nerve of this creature. "Antoine Gaudi is not a weirdo, rather, I'm a purveyor of fine things. And I would classify beautiful women as 'fine things'. Now you, I wouldn't even classify you, #2 as a woman."

His dark eyebrow raised as her figure began to walk towards the door, not quite knowing where the hell she thought she was going or what the directives from the church exactly were. These higher numbers were beginning to act like pubescent teenagers whom thought they knew everything about the world, when this was hardly the truth. But Antoine was not the type of person to get worked up over such meager things, and instead just followed 2's guide and approached the door politely stepping outside before politely speaking in a faux tone.

"An outsider will be giving parcel to the perso we are meant to meet, then they will meet us outside a convenience store called The Silver Dollar. The one with all the tacky Texas-themed gift shop decorations, horrible place, but once I get that package we can move on to the second part of the plan. Which I will not brief you on yet, due to your behavior." He smirked wry from ear to ear, goading the tattooed creature with a fixation for flora almost to confrontation. They themselves were able to secure a home on base through the church, and it served as a base of operations right next to where their operation would take place. It were almost as if god himself wished for the tragedy that would soon occur to happen.

A small black pickup truck sat in the home's driveway, which is the destination that Antoine intended for them to make. He made his way to the drivers door and waited for #2 to enter the passenger-side before putting the vehicle into drive and taking to the road. The base was heavily guarded but they both had proper identification to move around Fort Hood freely without issue. They passed waving families with smiles, stopped as a gas station to refill the tank, and then they would make it to their destination. That cursed convenience store with a cowboy aesthetic.

“Now, we wait for our company.”

---

???, Romania
——// JANUARY 23

@OwO
Constantin maintained the shit-eating grin as he rose from his chair and stepped towards the girl placing a heavy hand atop her head. His bare hand creepily sifted through 6’s black hair for a moment before grumbling to himself and making his way to the door of their office and quickly making his way out to speak to baldy.

“Two hours, I want that stolen Hagglund and a patrol or competent men. Make it happen if you know what’s good for you.” The handler commanded the Romanian captain life a peasant boy who lived to serve, and to Constantin he may as well have been. The bald officer stood and stared with a look of disgust, but he was obedient and saluted the man without question.

“The girl, I mean it. It is staying here, correct? We are allowing the church to move their troops through the countryside and if things go south we need insurance.” The captain maintained his composure, eye contact strongly set with Constantin’s. But then he looked over to 6, his sights searching for her emerald pupils to perhaps see if she could ah e some sway in this decision. Futile.

“Guards, you heard my order yes? It sounded quite urgent don’t you think?” The handler slit his azure sights so thin that they nearly shut for a moment, and then his right hand traced down to his waist plucking a steel dart from a small pouch and tossing it swiftly in the captain’s direction. The thin sharp projectile slid right through the membrane of the captain’s jugular, blocking off his airway and allowing blood to begin to flood down into his neck.

The handler’s sights returned to 6, he was eager to see her reaction as always. She wasn’t a very vocal creature, and this, whenever he could get some form of reaction it brought him joy. “And this is why we don’t talk back. Now one of you men, please make sure the things I requested are here. Two hours, I’ll expect them near the entrance of this god-forsaken base.”

They would make their way down the hallway, passing several armed Romanian men whom simply watched with a pained grimace upon their face. Reaching the single double-door Constantin pressed through allowing the icy winds of outside to enter the building for a moment. The man would frown as painful winds smacked into his face, and his march would turn into a wade as his boots transitioned from carpet to snow. He didn’t know how to drive, so it would be a good five to ten minute walk in the freezing temperatures till he reached the holding center near the entrance. Just the thought of it made him shudder, but then an idea!

“6 dear, would you travel along ahead to the entrance gate for me? Get one of the guards to send a car so I don’t have to walk all that way. I’ll reward you if you can do it then less than five minutes. What do you say?”

---

Murmansk, Russia
—- // JANUARY 23

@ERode
“This, this is why I hate men. #13 do you know what makes a great leader? Resolve. That man in there? None of it, he’s just some brown nose who sucked asshole to get where he is now. Don’t end up like him, even if someone makes it seem really appealing!” Augustine snorted in disgust, this place, it smelled of stupidity.

The woman’s rampage was not over yet, she marched herself directly to a public-use phone fixed to a wall with a small bench in front of it. The easily side-tracked woman audibly huffed and puffed in infuriation and reached her painted fingertips to crunch at numbers, constantly looking at #13 with a look that would translate to ‘You agree? You better agree’. She didn’t want the young creature’s approval, but there was just something comforting about others agreeing to outrage.

“Saint Augustine. Identification Number 1231. No I don’t need funds, I want to speak to Theo! If you don’t get his pompous ass on the phone in thirty seconds I will reach my— Theo? Yes, I made it to Murmansk safely. Yes, he told me that the air raids would suffice for securing the border. Well I figured, if you’re going to send three numbers to Russia you may as well get use of them. The Hermitage, okay, I understand. No, nobody is listening but #13. Yes sir.” She slammed the phone back against the wall cracking the plastic device with ease as she did so.

She rose from the bench and continued her advance out of the building. The clacking of her boots against the tile floor would grow fainter and fainter as she calmed down over time. But as they reached the glass doors of the building’s entrance #13 would notice a large helicopter awaiting their arrival. A soldier held two pairs of ear protection, an adult and a kiddy sized, extending them out to the two parties before giving them the thumbs up. Their destination had already been set, and it was a long trip via helicopter. As the two entered the Augusta Bell 212, all sound other than than the roar of the propeller blades was cancelled out. It could be a serene flight, or it could be chaotic. Either ways the view would be amazing, but the cold- dear god the cold.

••SETTING CHANGE // Varkhaus Military Bass, Finland

---

St. Peterburgh, Russia
—- // JANUARY, 23

@Kazemitsu@Rune_Alchemist
Both soldiers rolled their eyes at the two who had been sent for their mission. They really did have bad luck! Two really strange creatures, emphasis on the strange, to contrast the just two normal dudes who happened to be really good at special operation missions. But they had heard rumors about the Promised Children and what they were capable of, so who were they to dictate what they did?

“Hold on, as much as I’m sure you two are capable of taking on more enemies than the two of us. There’s a reason we are doing this discretely. For one, if the Russians find out they sent you two here they are likely to send all kinds of attention to this city and that’ll make it harder for the people coming behind us. Second, we actually have zero intel on what type of protection the building has. I say, we go quiet and do things as planned— but if shit hits the fan, you two can do whatever you want, I’ll probably be dead anyway.” The dark-skinned operative went on for a good while on his speech about the mission, impressing his friend enough to nod with purses lips and a hum in acceptance.

“I’m for that, what about you two?” The compatriot asked politely, maintaining his level-headedness because the two numbers who arrived didn’t seem to be sane. His friend had seemed to get his head on straight, which lifted his spirit a bit. They were in enemy territory after all, and going off trying to get killing sprees probably wasn’t in the best interest of the humans who had people that would miss them. Not that #3 or #11 would care about all of that.

“We w-rrrr. Arrival in 02-rrrr”

Each radio received the same message simultaneously broken message. It was nearly showtime, and the two soldiers started to prepare at the moment static entered their radio channel. They dropped back to the concrete and began to unzip their backpacks pulling out black face masks and coveralls for their uniform. There was no more time for chit-chat.

---

Tokyo, Japan
—- // JANUARY, 24

@Melkor
The muscular woman had finished her research and snapped her laptop shut in a rush. Standing and packing it into the satchel hoisted across her chest, she walked straight to the single cashier in the shop dropping the few cooks onto the desk in front of them and exiting. She didn’t even have a lead on 5, which I mean, it’s hard to find one when he is designed the way he is. Maybe she should call for help? No, she just worked her ass off the climb the ranks and even landed the job in Japan.

Henrietta Tattenbaum would not fail her first and only mission! She would hunt this motherfucker down and make him heel like the creature he was. The only reason she had gotten herself into this mess was because of her leniency. Strictness, sternness, and a bunch of other words would definitely need to be exercised when she got her hands on him.

Tokyo was just filled with way too many people, and due to 5’s ability he would quite literally flourish in this environment. It was his perfect hunting ground, and the only thing that would get him caught is a mistake. Which is what she was relying on him making, so was it a race against time? Would the Japanese Police find him first, or would it be her?

“Ma’am, do you know the area where those children have been going missing? I’m actually with the Public Safety Department, would you guide me to that part of town so I may investigate.” The tall woman towered over the elderly Japanese woman, she looked petrified by the woman’s appearance and seemed to accept mostly out of fear.

This part of the city was packed with large apartment buildings and alleyway housing establishments. It would be rough, but she would need to be one step ahead of the police if she wanted to catch 5. They had more manpower, but she had time, and she knew 5 better than most. Her eye was drawn to a tall shabbier looking apartment building. This is where her investigation would start.

---

Geneva, Switzerland
—-// JANUARY, 23

@Eleven@TruthHurts22
There was only a few moments of peace before the handler of #10 drew his katana. People at the table widened their eyes in attention of the man’s aggressive outlash, but what is more interesting is the high pitched frequency that was emitted by the man’s sword. Not many would hear it, but those with an acute sense may sense the piercing reverberation in emitted. It is likely that not even 7 would hear such a noise, after all, the weapon was not meant for her and thus it would serve no purpose for her to register such a thing. But to 10, this frequency was the absolute worst. His teeth would ache, mind throb, but most importantly his body would become so weak that it would be difficult for him to even speak. A tailor-made deterrent specifically for the promised child he was charged, it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.

7 on the other hand would get off a bit easier. “Does the bird wish to be put back in its cage?” Emmanuel bluntly spoke directly to the fair-complexioned promised child, his sights not even offering her the attention that his words would carry. She would know what this meant, minutes, hours, days, locked up with minimal stimulation. This was true hell, no television either!

While the children were being punished, upon the stage was a completely separate event to behold. An execution. The men who held the ceremonial swords took steps until they stood behind a bound man. The two whom spoke were the first selected. Large men in white suits and pants came from each side of the stage driving a heavy-handed punch into the gut of each of them causing them to fall to their knees. The executioners would then hold up their swords, speaking something not quite audible to the audience to themselves before driving the swords down upon their necks to release their heads to roll down the stage.

The guests who stood closest to the stage even may have gotten blood on themselves, but still they stood. Everyone but #10 would likely be standing as the audience roared into an applause, whistles and cheers even being heard. But Friedrich nor Emmanuel partook in these applause, rather both looked quite somber in this moment. “May you find rest.” They both quietly muttered in unison in those final moments.

Warrior's Heaven: Supreme Anime Bullshit

@Bluetommy

Ope, guess Mama Bear still has room to grow stronk.

New Weeb Testing Thread

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.
╱ ╲

╲ ╱



_____________________________________________________________
ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏᴡɴʟᴏᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪs ғɪʟᴇ?
✓ ʏᴇs □ ɴᴏ
Downloading...
█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
10%
███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒
20%
████▒▒▒▒▒▒
30%
█████▒▒▒▒▒
50%
███████▒▒▒
80%
████████▒▒
100%
██████████

Download complete.

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

---

_{Launch Day}

<sup>Thalam Online releases worldwide today.

Guides were posted online earlier this week by review websites, so most players would know that the starting zone is that of Bellview where tutorials and easy starter quests have been finely laid out. Low level enemy spawns are greatly accelerated in Bellview to cater for the constant armies of new players spawning into the rather large zone. The player characters will begin their journeys together during the chaos of launch day, shuffling through the masses of people to claim their share of adventure.

It's up to the players to decide where they go and what they do though, whether that be running out of the town and grinding slimes - or doing the recommended quests set from the start. Either way, there is a great degree of freedom. Players who are a little more rigid and wish to follow the route laid out for them can make their way to the tutorial NPC or the Adventurer's Guild to seek further directions, or they can explore the starter town that is surely filled to the brim with new players, shops, and unique game characters that may hold hidden quests.</sup>

_{The Mother Tree and the Elves}

Click Me

The world of Thalam is named after is matron deity named the very same. She once headed the Pantheon of many gods that exists in the world, but a few thousand years ago Thalam rooted herself into the continent that the mortal races call their home and entered a deep slumber. As her tendrils burrowed deep into the earth her essence infused the very land itself creating the first traces of mana in the world of Thalam. And as the sleeping god slowly became one with the continent her figure changed slowly into that of the Mother Tree at the land's very center.

Countless years would pass, the races of Thalam would continue to worship other deities of the pantheon but none would compare to the amount of renown held by the Mother Tree. The elves in particular built their society around the sleeping god and the immeasurable forest that sprouted around her, drinking the springs filled with her essence, eating the life that flourished. This results of their culture and the closeness to the Mother Tree extended the elves lifespan and also set a sense of elitism and pride in the race that claimed themselves to be the children of the mother deity.

The xenophobic elves would gather hate from the other races - so much so that the Greenskins and the Beastmen banded together in an attempt to usurp them from their ancestral home and take it for themselves. The war was quite long and there was countless losses on both side, miles and miles of forest was burned to ash - water supplies were poisoned, bloodstained were the once emerald green pastures. And when it finally did, it wasn't from a clean compromise or some signing of a treaty - instead the beastmen would turn against the masses of orcs and goblins in exchange for the eastern forests of the expansive glades around the Mother Tree.

The Eastern Forests would come to be known as the Beast Wilds, the Beastmen would begin to take on shamanism and holistic beliefs under the influence of the elves. Though, the elves didn’t outright associate with them - but the animals of the forests which in a way, were kin to them, and

_{The Stigmata and the Humans}

Click Me

During the early days of men in the western lands when they were still quite primitive, a deity with dominion over fertility and harvest descended down and blessed a single female child with the ability to promote crop growth. At first the young girl was glorified, cherished, put on a pedestal before the entire village she was a part of. But then as she began to grow older the village chief began to fear that another group may try and take her if they discovered her blessing, not only that but once the woman grew old and died the next generation would not gain the bountiful crops she brought with her. He forced the woman to marry and to have a child with the man, against her will at that, which at first had no effect - but when she gave birth to her first son who did not inherit the blessing of his mother the village chief lashed out. It wouldn’t be long until another village caught on to the girl’s potential. And when invaders came, it wasn’t just one or two enemy villages - but a mass that joined together in a unified goal to conquer the lack of food in the region.

She was still treated well after the invasion and conquering of her village, hell, it’s be safe to say that these new conquerors even treated her better. Her former husband had died in the battle and she was left with only her son, her job was simply to live and be healthy - and to never run away. Soon her son would grow to the rambunctious age of ten, playing with the other villagers normally and tending to his mother when home. But it was when the newly appointed village leader by the conquerors began to train him in warfare that the boy would finally show the same blessing that his mother had, causing the crops to grow wild around his feet as he paced the land. The new chief was not native to the region, and knew nothing of the pretense or origin of this ability - but he did see the reasoning for coming here. And so, he would over the years groom and teach the boy for the role of Village Chief when his time would come, though, he filled the young boy’s head with thoughts of greed and delusion all the same.

As the boy grew into adulthood it was clear that the chief’s corrupted ways had spread to him - he was adulterous despite their traditions and rationalized this as “Wanting to spread the boom to as many women possible”. He was also quite violent and when restrained, before he could be punished he threatened to not pace the cropfields in expense. He was nothing like his mother, a shadow of what the god wished their blessing would bring upon the human races. But it wasn’t till the boy’s mother died that he would rise to his full potential, the day after her death single-handedly murdering his old teacher the former chief and taking the role upon himself.

And soon, the karmic cycle would come full circle upon him. Because even though the conquering clan was now helmed by someone with the goddess’ gift - many of the outlier clans were slowly building a rebellion against them. The blessed boy had also made a habit of hoarding women to himself with the same twisted message he used to climb his way to Chiefhood, and thus itself caused a large amount of distrust within his own tribe. People began to discuss in secrecy the pros and cons of eliminating the blessed chief, the quality of life was better - but at what cost? It was actually one of the women that the chief had taken to that finally betrayed the conquering clan. She had been meeting a number of the clans enemies, explaining work schedules, guard locations, food storage, all of the details an assailant would need. It wasn’t long that the raids happened, and rather than keep the chief alive, he was executed rather thoughtlessly - knowing that many of the women in the village were carrying his children. There are still those that carry the traits of this Stigmata, but over generations the effects have greatly diluted - so instead of causing crops to flourish, these Harvest Witches are instead said to have a great connection to the land and commune with the Harvest Deity.

_{The Two Dwarves}

Cliq Me

To be added.

_{The Wild God and the Beastmen}

Click This

To be added

_{The Great Slaughtering}

Click Click

To be added.

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.

---

Read the Document!!

_{The Cast}

^{to be added}

_{Story Progress}

^{to be added}

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

I'll be continually working on the opening post! But it's mostly done, and I'll be adding reference links and images as the day goes on! Also the discord link will be on the OOC's Original Post for anyone who wants to utilize that. Other than that I'm going to have my coffee and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, then decompress by watching some Demon Slayer.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

C H A P T E R 1

N o t A S i n g l e S t a r
_________________________________

Fort Hood, Texas
14:00 // JANUARY 23

@Zoey White
“The hell do ya’ think you’re doing private? Stop staring at the migrants and get back to work!” A six-foot tall leathery tan skinned man in full ABU’s roared at a younger grunt of a man.

The youngling’s eyes widened as the reverberations echoed throughout his skull. “Y-yes-sir! Apologies!” He nodded his head for a moment, stalling in habit of awaiting an order before doing anything. Which was of course a mistake.

“What are you waiting around for? Get a move on limp dick! There is shit for you to shovel!” The sergeant continued to shake his head in disbelief, reaching his hand up to his cap drawing it away to reveal a cleanly shaven but very-gray head.

“They said they’d let anyone in twenty years ago. And here I am witnessing the stupidest people enlisting. I’d be half tempted to send these simpletons to the frontlines if they didn’t have families to feed.” He scowled, snorting airily through his nostrils before spitting at the brown clay below.

Meanwhile, in a Coffee Connection located a short drive off base two enemies of the state sat at a table together. The shoppe itself was quite busy, making it much easier for such people to blend in and converse in discretion. On one side of the table was a much-much older man with long whispy-white hair who shuffled playing cards with magician like grace. The other was a young miss, seemingly just reaching the mid-twenties, maybe. They were both dressed quite plainly to further blend in, the elder fellow in a simple plaid overshirt and blue jeans, the woman in a sunflower print dress and black high-heels.

“So shall we talk about about ‘that plan’?” The elder man leaned forward, elbows resting on the table with a mug of steaming coffee idly in hands reach.

“No, I planned on meeting some creepy old geezer at a coffee shop because I’m looking for a sugar daddy. Yes, that is the purpose of this meeting.” The woman spat venomous words to the man, she sat stiff with her hands upon her lap clutched together.

“My apologies for trying to spark conversation, dove. Have you met with the contact on the base y-“ His question would be cut short by the disrespectful raven-haired girl across from him, her emerald sights cutting straight into him.

“Meet them, handed them the ‘package’ and he shall hand it to ‘Akasha’. He will then plant the ‘package’ at the doorstep and ‘ring the doorbell’ so that it will be moved to the desired location. Once that has been followed through, I will contact ‘Akasha’ one final time before heading home.” The girl’s expression was resolute, battle-hardened, despite her appearance this wasn’t your average texas woman who went to Starbucks and shopped at HomeGoods.

The elderly man nodded, gulping down the rest of his coffee and sliding his chair out from under the table. “Very well, then if I’m not needed I guess I’ll be on my way. My hopes are with you, that this goes off without a hitch. God bless you, Vanessa, and the church appreciates your willingness to serve in his name.” The old innocent man’s eyes flashes sinister for a moment. This woman was just a pawn, he cared not for her life or her part in this plan. Just that she knew her part to play, and knew it well enough that his job would be all the easier.

But just who exactly was this Akasha character?

“#2, the higher-ups said that we would be meeting a pretty young girl today. Sounds like tasteful company, don’t you think?” The handler was a slim, tall, tan-skinned individual in a very stylish dress suit. His medium-length brown hair dangled warily into his vision and he stared across the bedroom at the Number he had been charged with watching.

---

Sofia, Bulgaria
19:00 // JANUARY 23

“Report?” The incredibly built man in white and black uniform sat alone at a small wooden table, a small teacup in his hand. His hair was a few brown, nearly combed to the side. He was handsome for a military man, chiseled marble would have done him justice.

“Sir, negotiations with both Warsaw and Kiev have failed. Forward Units will be advancing through Romania, and then the elite squad will split in two and attempt to dispel their reinforcements at the border.” This plain looking person making the report held brass upon his chest, he was a person of leadership. This meant that the JoJo looking fellow he reported must have been much farther up the food-chain.

“I like that plan, take a Templar with your troop. If you lose it I’ll send you straight to the Holy Spirit. But if you make it home successful and with it intact, I’ll make sure the Pope hears about your victory directly.” The handsome man smiled wryly from ear to ear, pristine porcelain teeth flashing masterfully up at the officer who spoke to him.

“Your words move me, Sir Theo IV. But that is not necessary, although we do appreciate the support of his grace. I am doing this for my people, and my country.” The man spoke briefly and bowed before exiting the intel room in haste.

Theo frowned heavily as the officer marched out with ease. The grip of his gloved hands squeezed at his teacup as he raised it to his lips and dipped quietly. “I wonder how my father is doing in the States. I’m sure the Americans are much more entertaining than these small-minded people here.”

---

???, Romania
19:00 // JANUARY 23

@OwO
“The hell do they think they’re doing marching through here like we are some expressway bridge? We have our own problems.” A shorter Romanian boy with a brown-leather cap spat in anger.

“It’s not like we have any say in it. We rely on the church for food, men, and various other important things that are required to run a country.” Responded another Romanian youth, though this one had a buzzed scalp and his ears must've been cold.

“Who even says that? ‘Various things to run a country’ you talk weird as hell dude.” Cap boy snapped back, his eyes squinting into slits of anger.

“Go run the information to the Captain like a proper courier, would you?” Buzz-cut boy lost interest in the argument, averting his sights and speaking in monotone.

The blonde-haired capped Romanian boy scoffed as he turned on his toes and marched through the snow towards a singular large concrete building. It had no windows and no other entrances besides a wide steel double door. He reached such a place and brushed the powdersnow from his black mesh jacket before giving the door three loud knocks.

A gruff voice loud enough to be heard quite audibly from outside screamed. “Enter!” And on note, the door unlocked allowing the courier passage into the skif. It was barren inside, guards stood at the door and empty desks littered its innards. The boy kept marching along until he reached the room at the very southernmost end, saluting the hulking baldman who sat at a desk doing paperwork.

“A message from the clergy, sir!” The boy spat the words out quick, this superior officer must have been one who liked things quick.

“Hand it to the black suited man in the next room.”

Next room? He quietly turned, looking to his right seeing an unassuming wooden door with a cross neatly placed on its centermost. The boy dropped his salute and made his way to the directed door, extending out a hand to grasp a bronze handle with the utmost anxiety. “Come on in, we don’t bite!” A sing-song tuned voice chimed through, wafting away bits of anxiousness as the boy stepped inside the room. It was much more lively than the rest of the building, bobble heads, pictures, and a chunky blonde Romanian man sitting comfortable within his swivel chair. “The troops will be advancing through here within the next few days, am I right?”

The boy quickly nodded. “Yes sir!"

He turned on his boot heels and headed out the way he came in. Meanwhile the suited man spun to the unnoticed figure sitting idly in the opposing corner of the room. Devious eyes glistened as he stared at the sickly looking girl, and then an vile smile plastered across his face. “What do you say #6, are you prepared to spill blood in the name of god?”

---

Murmansk, Russia
19:00 // JANUARY 23

@ERode
Smoke, gunpowder, blood, the screams of burning innocents. This was once a prosperous city, but now the dirtied hands of god had finally breached the border of Finland and made headway into the motherland. They had developed new weapons to deter the invading forces, drones piloted remotely from Moscow that patrolled the borders on a daily schedule, pseudo-mecha all terrain tanks that seemed to be pulled from Star Wars or some sci-fi movie albeit. But nothing could prepare the prideful Russian forces for what was to come.

“Our first airstrike was successful. Though if we keep bombarding their homes, we won’t have any people left to convert to the cause.” A white uniformed very decorated military man, in shoulderguards and even a gold embroidered cap spoke cordially to the woman across from him. She was middle aged, platinum blonde hair, wore glasses, and even surprising was dressed casual in a white button up and plain black jeans.

“So, do suppose we should send ‘it' in to clean up the rest? We’ve been testing ‘it’ quite thoroughly and I know my #13 would have no problem sweeping through those pitiful fucks.”
A smile of pride shined its way into the woman’s red-painted lips as she thought of the massacre that may transpire.

“Language, Miss Augustine. I understand you are a representative from the church, but this military operation under my control and I want this to be an absolute victory. If I need to keep sending air raids, I will, but those things are an uncertainty and I can’t have that.”

The woman chewed at her lip in withheld frustration, painted pink fingernails tapping along her chair for a moment as she searched her thoughts for something that may change the general’e mind. But she came out empty-handed, and simply released the oxygen from her lungs in a pained sigh of acceptance. “Very well, but if you do change your mind. You know how to find me.” The woman offered the man a dignified bow, arm placed over her heart as she did so. She would soon after be making her way out of his quarters, stepping down a long hallway where a single younger figure stood. His hair was raven black and wore an accordingly matching black uniform.

“Lets go. We are going to meet up with the leader of the Operations Unit in Finland. Hopefully he isn't an incapable fuck like this one was.”

---

St. Peterburgh, Russia
21:00 // JANUARY, 23

@Kazemitsu@Rune_Alchemist
Two grown, seasoned looking soldiers property decorated in grime and scars alike laid on their stomachs atop an old abandoned bakery. They were in enemy territory, no contact with the reinforcements that would be showing up sometime tomorrow to assist them. The Operations Unit really did get the short straw pretty frequently, and this was one such occrassion.

“Who are we waiting for, exactly?” The dark-skinned soldier quietly asked.

His partner quickly smacked the back of his head. Eyebrows raised with deep brown eyes staring back at him that could almost speak for themselves. ‘Q U I E T!’. But the question did burn in the back of both of their minds. They had been undercover few days preparing for the mission, and now they simply had to wait on this specific building while laying low. How very uncool.

But then their questions would be answered, as two dark-clad assailants scaled the building-side. They were both very young, too young to be soldiers for this type of job.

The dark-skinned soldier then began to go off again. “Are you serious? What the shit are we supposed to do with two punk kids? Last I heard the church didn’t do child soldiers?” He spoke so quickly that he ran out of breath, he pulled himself up to sit and look up at the two figures rather disappointed.

“They’re not 'kids' man.” The soft-spoken man with curly brown hair and an olive complexion spoke, squinting at his companion and shaking his head. “We are glad to have the backup. Since Portillo over here left a bad impression I guess I shall get you two up to speed. You obviously know the Catholic Church’s disdain for Russia, well, we are here to raze the Hermitage. Our job is to infiltrate the lobby, disperse of any security, plant explosives which shall be delivered tomorrow, and escape to the west border. Simplified enough? I don’t know how knowledgeable you things are on this stuff.” The soldier flashed them a half-humored smile, scratching through his hair nervously.

---

Tokyo, Japan
02:00 // JANUARY, 24

@Melkor
We have been receiving numerous reports of missing children throughout areas of the city. While the police believe that it may be human traffickers, our sources are telling us that they are indeed murders due to evidence found at a residence nearby one of the families. The scheduled curfew 10:00 will not be affected, though, please report any information you might have to one or the many Public Safety kiosks placed throughout the city.

The Public Safety Commission branched off of the police force to focus less on crime and more so on improving the well-being of Japanese citizens. You would think the two are the same, but that is hardly the case. While crime is a lot more prominent with the city being so packed, more people struggle with making a livelihood and finding a place to live than anything else in Japan. The Public Safety Commission task themselves with finding jobs for the unemployed, building makeshift homes for those without one, and just overall upkeep of the city while the government worries about bigger problems.

“Ma’am, might I offer you some bubble tea?” An A.I controlled restaurant host rolled over to the black-suited woman, she was very intimidating to look at standing taller than most men with a rather jacked body. “No thank you, boba is bad for you.” She responded with a flippant wave of the hand to dismiss the robot.

The handler sat alone in the tea shop, hands interlocked in thought with beads of sweat developing at her brow. She was stressed, incredibly so, and the pistol at her waist made her all the more threatening because of it. The denizens of the tea shop avoided her like a leper, wary eyes glancing over her imposing figure as if she were a monster herself. But she wasn't a monster, though she did misplace the monster in which she was tasked with maintaining. A laptop was placed atop the small table she sat at, the screen graced with privacy glass to prevent any wandering eyes to see what exactly she was doing on such a device.

It was a profile labeled #5 with several incident reports and information revolving around its creation and the incident of that day. She was a handler, but her curious mind got the better of her on most days. But I guess this time it got the worse, as she had lost contact with #5 for some time now. The creature was much different than its brothers and sisters, the church had nearly deemed it a failure because of its grotesque appearance but some of the more shady clergymen saw potential in it. As a weapon, of course.

---

Geneva, Switzerland
13:00 // JANUARY, 23

@TruthHurts22@Eleven
[i]Swiss Neutrality, the main principle of Switzerland's foreign policy which dictates that Switzerland is not to be involved in armed conflicts between other states. This policy is self-imposed, permanent, and armed, designed to ensure external security and promote peace. And it seemed to do something of that sort for the nearby countries, Spain being the exception. France had followed suit, the ruling powers intermingling with Switzerland to a strange degree and with France's economic boom it probably benefited Switzerland either way.

"You are to do nothing more than sit and watch, understood #7?" The fair-skinned man in a black and grey dress-suit barked down to the white-haired girl. His emerald sights widening in an uncanny fixation on her, struggling to withhold his one views and follow through with the orders he was given.

The two sat within a large, beautiful, ballroom though it was filled with finely decorated dinner tables with diamond bright glasses and angelic tapestries. It was empty at the time of their arrival, though slowly but surely more and more suited figures would enter the room. People of differing ages and backgrounds, though all of them bore the cross of the Catholic Church somewhere on their being. This was a large meeting of some sort, and while the territory they stood in was neutral it did not mean that the holy men couldn't discuss their plans in such a place.

"Welcome, my fellow faithful men and women! We are gathered here as guests to witness an event for our eyes only. The Clergy assures you that this room has been sealed, all identification has been thoroughly checked, and there is absolutely nothing to worry about! Now, let us get on with the entertainment!" The clergyman looked more like a ringmaster of some circus, an all-white suit with a matching top hat and a cane? Who the hell uses a cane as an accessory in this day and age? But what was more interesting is the stage at the forefront of the ballroom's curtains being drawn to reveal several naked men who were incredibly beaten and bruised. Their faces were veiled by a black silk bag, and two black-suited men stood at each side of the stage with long ceremonial swords.

"Please! I have a family! I'll give you any information you want, I was an informant for the U.S military there must be something you need to know." Shouted a lean freckle-skinned male, body-hair revealing what was likely a ginger mane atop his head.

"Give it up, Wellman. They don't want our information." The man at his direct left stated bluntly, his own farmer's tan showing signs of a working lifestyle. Were these civilians?

It was then that the #7's keeper started to fidget, he hated traditions like this. His green eyes shifted around the room until they caught something interesting, someone familiar, and he grabbed 7's wrist as he stood and began to lead her to the opposite side of the ballroom. This of course caught many of the participant's attention but he didn't need to worry about them. He instead found a seat next to another man dressed similarly to himself. "Been a while, Friedrich. Haven't seen you since the island, how ya' been?" He casually slid into a social interaction with this man, his own blue sights peeling from the fellow keeper towards the small girl at his side. "Do not discuss the island in public, Emmanuel.". His words were like a dog snapping in defense, but he loosened up a bit after making the hostile statement and then gestured to the well-dressed young boy who sat next to him at his left. "#10, do not speak to your sister." His words were definite and punctuated, there was no room for defense.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

The Discord

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

I’m about 5/6 of the way done with the opening post. And then I’ll need to proofread and such before I send it out. Once that’s all done, I’m going to start working on some NPC profiles and maps—— but those won’t be till next week because I sick. And as for the discord idea, I might make it just for collaborative posts and such things. It’ll also keep this OOC from getting super bloated.

**Posting on here via mobile is a mistake

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

@TruthHurts22
Oh yeah, I forgot I decided not to use Jekyll & Hyde.

Cute brunette* boy.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

@ERode

His image is already on the first post? He’s a cute blonde boy!