ScoutGreat intro, Engel. I'll start working on a response now.
Halcyon Member
STATUS: Merry Christmas to all! There's so much snow outside -.-.... 9 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
9 yrs ago
Current
Merry Christmas to all! There's so much snow outside -.-....
1
like
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Sounds good! I'll just write something out. If you want anything changed, just let me know.
Oh I'll go ahead and start. Did you have any preference on where we base our story location wise?
Name
Isabella Huntington
Age
23
Occupation before the flare
Graduate Student in Psychology and part-waitress
Story between@Vesuvius00 and Halcyon.
CLOSED
Before I launch into the good stuff, some expectations from me. Also, if anyone get the title reference, I will love you forever.
Anyway, the expectations:
- I want quality over quantity any day. If you can give juicy character development and plot progression in three concise paragraphs, I welcome it. I absolutely abhor fluff. Namely, write what feels natural; just have your writing do something rather than fill blank space.
- Please check over your grammar and spelling. I'm not perfect. I will make mistakes. I will butcher English grammar and make English majors cringe. However, I shall try my best to minimize these occurrences. I expect the same from you.
- Initiative. This story is not mine alone. It's ours. I expect mutual effort in planning and story progression. While I may give the plot direction, I expect your help in fleshing it out. If I don't see this, I will lose interest.
- I prefer lesbian couples (FxF) since it's what I'm most comfortable with. I can write males, but they are weaker. Also, romance complements the story. It shall not be our story's focal point.
- Please chat with me. I love chatting with my partners. Communication can never be a bad thing, right?
- If you do not want to continue, tell me. I can take it, and I will afford you the same courtesy. I'm lenient with replies. Post whenever you're able.
Still with me? If so, well done brave traveler. Onto the fun part! If any of the below interests you, PM me or reply here :)! I shall update this thread accordingly.
Cravings
Beginning a Family
Best friends
Dystopia
Post-Apocalypse
Forbidden Romance
Bloodborne *Looks to the title*
Fallout
Dragon Age
Mass Effect
Assassins Creed
Before I launch into the good stuff, some expectations from me. Also, if anyone get the title reference, I will love you forever.
Anyway, the expectations:
- I want quality over quantity any day. If you can give juicy character development and plot progression in three concise paragraphs, I welcome it. I absolutely abhor fluff. Namely, write what feels natural; just have your writing do something rather than fill blank space.
- Please check over your grammar and spelling. I'm not perfect. I will make mistakes. I will butcher English grammar and make English majors cringe. However, I shall try my best to minimize these occurrences. I expect the same from you.
- Initiative. This story is not mine alone. It's ours. I expect mutual effort in planning and story progression. While I may give the plot direction, I expect your help in fleshing it out. If I don't see this, I will lose interest.
- I prefer lesbian couples (FxF) since it's what I'm most comfortable with. I can write males, but they are weaker. Also, romance complements the story. It shall not be our story's focal point.
- Please chat with me. I love chatting with my partners. Communication can never be a bad thing, right?
- If you do not want to continue, tell me. I can take it, and I will afford you the same courtesy. I'm lenient with replies. Post whenever you're able.
Still with me? If so, well done brave traveler. Onto the fun part! If any of the below interests you, PM me or reply here :)! I shall update this thread accordingly.
Cravings
Beginning a Family
Best friends
Dystopia
Post-Apocalypse
Forbidden Romance
Bloodborne *Looks to the title*
Fallout
Dragon Age
Mass Effect
Assassins Creed
Brooklyn 'Brooke' Wilhelmsson
Age: 26
Height: 5'7"
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Occupation: CIA, Clandestine branch
Physical Characteristics: Brooke stands at 5'7" with a slim yet strong build. While she is not at liberty to disclose her profession to any person except family - if she decides to read them in - many would never suspect this woman to be in such a violent profession.
She has a number of scars on her body from operations that went bad. The most prominent one is on her back, a bullet wound that she had to apply first aid by herself.
Age: 26
Height: 5'7"
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Hair Color: Brown
Occupation: CIA, Clandestine branch
Physical Characteristics: Brooke stands at 5'7" with a slim yet strong build. While she is not at liberty to disclose her profession to any person except family - if she decides to read them in - many would never suspect this woman to be in such a violent profession.
She has a number of scars on her body from operations that went bad. The most prominent one is on her back, a bullet wound that she had to apply first aid by herself.
001: Reunited
Music for mood
https://youtu.be/tun_Ot5VtN0
---
The news of the chemical attack on the United States still left the country in shock. Emotions ran high as many cried for revenge. Anger, frustration, patriotism, sorrow, insanity. There was no holding it back. Those who spoke out against the war quickly joined the ranks of the war mongers as many volunteered into the military. It was a blessing in a nightmare to the right people. An impetus for further devastation.
Hundreds of thousands perished when the first biological agents made contact with the ground. Major cities were infected. Dallas, Los Angeles, Washington D.C, Chicago, and many more. How the Russians made it through US defenses was still being determined. The President was safe. While the nation of diplomacy swayed to total war, terrible rumors had been circulating about the hot zones. Mutations - creatures that should’ve existed only in fiction. While the ‘first hand’ accounts came from frightened civilians and conspiracy theorists, hard proof of these mutations remained to be seen.
Brooke walked amongst the ruined city. Having been with the CIA clandestine services for several years, the job took her many places. Her occupation required stealth, tactfulness, and adaptation. However, at some points, transparent intervention was needed. The agency had taught her well at the farm to adapt to a myriad of situations. Upon the aftermath of the biological strike, Brooke was activated as part of Operation Purge. The CIA’s response to the terror attacks. They were to ascertain anything that helped find a cure and root out any enemy spies under their discretion. It was an honor. She’d killed before in her country’s name, and she would continue to do so to preserve the ideals she loved. Brooke had heard of the creatures the biological agent created. Luckily she had yet to encounter one and hoped it stayed that way. A deeper part of her wished that the things were fictitious, unsure of how’d she respond. Just silly propaganda.
Walking towards a checkpoint, Brooke showed a soldier her identification as he let her pass. Chicago had been rioting for weeks. While the armed forces tried to screen and process as many as they could, the evacuation zone was overwhelmed and understaffed. The civilians weren’t making it any easier. There had been casualties amongst the soldiers and the civilians. Pandemonium was what it was. The soldiers followed their orders while the civilians wanted to flee. Brooke could understand that. She didn’t want to be near this place either. However, she had her orders like the soldiers. If the people would just calm down, order would expedite the screening. She wondered if they knew that with ever incident, the screenings that led to their freedom was interrupted. Desperate times always threw logic to the wind she supposed.
Making her way into a tent, Brooke rested her eyes on several others as she nodded to them. “Have any of you tried the hot zone?” Brooke asked before the meeting even started. She already knew what this was all about. Their search for a cure had turned up empty. The other teams at the other hot zones weren’t having any luck either. It wasn’t because there was nothing to find. The simply haven’t mustered the courage to go into the belly of the beast. Bullets was child play compared to chemical agents. The couldn’t see the germs. “That’s the only place where we haven’t looked.”
“The part of the city that wasn’t hit by the chemical agents turned up nothing,” said David - the group leader - as he activated his tablet and showed the others. “Wilhelmsson’s right. We have to push into the contact area. I’ve requested filters for all of us. Hot agent containment capsules as well. We’ve been cleared for weaponry that the military will provide.”
“We’re actually going in there?” asked another agent - Singer if Brooke recalled correctly. “I ain’t opposed for dying for my country, but biologicals? That’s some scary shit. What the fuck were the Ruskies thinking using those? You think we’ll be sending our own?”
“And become another voodoo bad guy? Fuck, Singer. Use your head,” David said as he enlarged an image. “Get focused. All of you. This is where the biological impacted first. The agency figures that’s where the samples will be the most potent. I’m inclined to agree. However, that’s where the killing agent will be the most saturated. I know y’all heard those rumors. About those beasts. Nothing’s been confirmed. Get your shit straight when we go in. Most likely, we’ll run into civvies and rioters. Both are monsters in their own right.”
The tent filled with nervous laughter. All of them knew what human beings were capable of.
“We’ve all been through worse than this - minus the chemicals. Rioters and civvies will be no problem. We’ve got people fighting overseas. Hell, even the Alaskan front’s taking a beating from the Russians. We do our part and secure the home front. We commence the insertion tomorrow morning. Filter orientation will happen at 2200. Prototypes, but their a hella lot better than our current ones. With germs, I’d rather take the strongest shield. Got it?”
Brooke nodded along with the others. Tomorrow. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she thought about the operation. It’s importance couldn’t be understated in the slightest; she had to focus her entirety on it. However, no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts always moved back to the same thing.
Her family. Were her parents okay? Her kid sister? Brooke shook her head as she played out the worst case scenario. She was never the devout, but she prayed that they were alive. All of them.
—
“Step back!”
Brooke looked in the direction of the voice. She had just finished changing into her field clothes to remain incognito amongst the civilian populace. A soldier was pointing his rifle at a scared mother and child. They were well past the ‘Do Not Cross’ line. Quickly making her way over, she made sure the soldier saw her. Brooke looked at the soldier’s name embroidery on his BDU. “Corporal Charleston? What’s the problem?” Brooke rose her hands as the M4 pointed her way. “Whoa there.”
“No civilians past the line!” ordered the corporal as he stepped back slightly. Marines were converging on them as they trained their rifles. “Step back across or you will be shot! This is not a request.”
“Listen, I’m going to reach into my coat pocket. Just for my credentials, okay? Don’t go happy with that trigger.” Her cover for this station was a special contractor, Bethany Sanders. She was to fake believe that she had experience combating chemicals but really did not. Brooke wagered she had dozens of fake aliases. It was her job to make the transition as seamless as possible. When she found her identification, she slowly walked it to the corporal very aware that a number of muzzles were pointed at her. “Here. Take a look.”
The corporal lowered his rifle as she looked at the identification. He rose and eyebrow. “Department of Chemical Defense?”
“Government sanctioned office in times of chemical warfare. Our supervision falls directly under the joint chiefs.”
“Shit,” said the corporal. “The civilians have us on edge. They test the barriers. All they’re doing is slowing down the doctors. The screening takes a fuck ton of time as it is.”
Brooke resisted the urge to smile. Fuck seemed to be the common word in every Marine’s vocabulary. “I hear you. What? Fifteen minutes per person? That all adds up. You know what else slows down the process? Starting a riot by shooting a mom and her kid,” she said. “Let me have a word with them, okay?”
Turning around, Brooke walked towards the mother trying to look as amiable as possible. “Ma’am? My name is Bethany Sanders with the Department of Chemical Defense. The situation’s pretty hairy, but please step back into the line. This is for your protection as well as everyone’s.”
“You’re herding us like animals,” said the woman as she drew her daughter in close. “Like goddamn animals!”
Brooke shook her head. “Not at all. Once you’ve been cleared of infection, you’re free to go. Look. You’re almost at the testing site. Just wait a bit longer. For you and your daughter’s sake. These men have orders to shoot anyone past this line. They don’t want to. Don’t make them do that. Please, back into the line. You’ll be out soon enough.”
When the mother dragged her child back into the sea of people, Brooke breathed easier as she walked back towards the Marines who now stood at ease. “Crisis averted, corporal.”
The soldier nodded as he stepped back into position. “Wish all cases were that fuckin’ easy,” he said. “Thanks Sanders. Hope you DCD folks clean this shit up. Biological’s in the states? Fuckin’ Russians.”
“We’ll do our best,” Brooke said as she began to walk down the line. Watching all these people reminded her why she had to succeed. Though she hated the stupidity of mobs, fear was something none of them had to face head on before. For the majority anyway. About to head back to the ‘Authorized Personal Only’ portion of the compound, someone caught her eye. She knew that face anywhere. “Shit.”
It was her kid sister. This had to be handled delicately. Bethany Sanders had no siblings, and those not within her circle could know her identity.
Sighing, she walked towards the woman as she looked around. “Ms. Wilhelmsson?” she asked. God, her sister looked all grown up. It’d been too long since she’d seen her. “Your sister sends her regards. I work with her within the DCD. If you’ll follow me?"
Music for mood
https://youtu.be/tun_Ot5VtN0
---
The news of the chemical attack on the United States still left the country in shock. Emotions ran high as many cried for revenge. Anger, frustration, patriotism, sorrow, insanity. There was no holding it back. Those who spoke out against the war quickly joined the ranks of the war mongers as many volunteered into the military. It was a blessing in a nightmare to the right people. An impetus for further devastation.
Hundreds of thousands perished when the first biological agents made contact with the ground. Major cities were infected. Dallas, Los Angeles, Washington D.C, Chicago, and many more. How the Russians made it through US defenses was still being determined. The President was safe. While the nation of diplomacy swayed to total war, terrible rumors had been circulating about the hot zones. Mutations - creatures that should’ve existed only in fiction. While the ‘first hand’ accounts came from frightened civilians and conspiracy theorists, hard proof of these mutations remained to be seen.
Brooke walked amongst the ruined city. Having been with the CIA clandestine services for several years, the job took her many places. Her occupation required stealth, tactfulness, and adaptation. However, at some points, transparent intervention was needed. The agency had taught her well at the farm to adapt to a myriad of situations. Upon the aftermath of the biological strike, Brooke was activated as part of Operation Purge. The CIA’s response to the terror attacks. They were to ascertain anything that helped find a cure and root out any enemy spies under their discretion. It was an honor. She’d killed before in her country’s name, and she would continue to do so to preserve the ideals she loved. Brooke had heard of the creatures the biological agent created. Luckily she had yet to encounter one and hoped it stayed that way. A deeper part of her wished that the things were fictitious, unsure of how’d she respond. Just silly propaganda.
Walking towards a checkpoint, Brooke showed a soldier her identification as he let her pass. Chicago had been rioting for weeks. While the armed forces tried to screen and process as many as they could, the evacuation zone was overwhelmed and understaffed. The civilians weren’t making it any easier. There had been casualties amongst the soldiers and the civilians. Pandemonium was what it was. The soldiers followed their orders while the civilians wanted to flee. Brooke could understand that. She didn’t want to be near this place either. However, she had her orders like the soldiers. If the people would just calm down, order would expedite the screening. She wondered if they knew that with ever incident, the screenings that led to their freedom was interrupted. Desperate times always threw logic to the wind she supposed.
Making her way into a tent, Brooke rested her eyes on several others as she nodded to them. “Have any of you tried the hot zone?” Brooke asked before the meeting even started. She already knew what this was all about. Their search for a cure had turned up empty. The other teams at the other hot zones weren’t having any luck either. It wasn’t because there was nothing to find. The simply haven’t mustered the courage to go into the belly of the beast. Bullets was child play compared to chemical agents. The couldn’t see the germs. “That’s the only place where we haven’t looked.”
“The part of the city that wasn’t hit by the chemical agents turned up nothing,” said David - the group leader - as he activated his tablet and showed the others. “Wilhelmsson’s right. We have to push into the contact area. I’ve requested filters for all of us. Hot agent containment capsules as well. We’ve been cleared for weaponry that the military will provide.”
“We’re actually going in there?” asked another agent - Singer if Brooke recalled correctly. “I ain’t opposed for dying for my country, but biologicals? That’s some scary shit. What the fuck were the Ruskies thinking using those? You think we’ll be sending our own?”
“And become another voodoo bad guy? Fuck, Singer. Use your head,” David said as he enlarged an image. “Get focused. All of you. This is where the biological impacted first. The agency figures that’s where the samples will be the most potent. I’m inclined to agree. However, that’s where the killing agent will be the most saturated. I know y’all heard those rumors. About those beasts. Nothing’s been confirmed. Get your shit straight when we go in. Most likely, we’ll run into civvies and rioters. Both are monsters in their own right.”
The tent filled with nervous laughter. All of them knew what human beings were capable of.
“We’ve all been through worse than this - minus the chemicals. Rioters and civvies will be no problem. We’ve got people fighting overseas. Hell, even the Alaskan front’s taking a beating from the Russians. We do our part and secure the home front. We commence the insertion tomorrow morning. Filter orientation will happen at 2200. Prototypes, but their a hella lot better than our current ones. With germs, I’d rather take the strongest shield. Got it?”
Brooke nodded along with the others. Tomorrow. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she thought about the operation. It’s importance couldn’t be understated in the slightest; she had to focus her entirety on it. However, no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts always moved back to the same thing.
Her family. Were her parents okay? Her kid sister? Brooke shook her head as she played out the worst case scenario. She was never the devout, but she prayed that they were alive. All of them.
—
“Step back!”
Brooke looked in the direction of the voice. She had just finished changing into her field clothes to remain incognito amongst the civilian populace. A soldier was pointing his rifle at a scared mother and child. They were well past the ‘Do Not Cross’ line. Quickly making her way over, she made sure the soldier saw her. Brooke looked at the soldier’s name embroidery on his BDU. “Corporal Charleston? What’s the problem?” Brooke rose her hands as the M4 pointed her way. “Whoa there.”
“No civilians past the line!” ordered the corporal as he stepped back slightly. Marines were converging on them as they trained their rifles. “Step back across or you will be shot! This is not a request.”
“Listen, I’m going to reach into my coat pocket. Just for my credentials, okay? Don’t go happy with that trigger.” Her cover for this station was a special contractor, Bethany Sanders. She was to fake believe that she had experience combating chemicals but really did not. Brooke wagered she had dozens of fake aliases. It was her job to make the transition as seamless as possible. When she found her identification, she slowly walked it to the corporal very aware that a number of muzzles were pointed at her. “Here. Take a look.”
The corporal lowered his rifle as she looked at the identification. He rose and eyebrow. “Department of Chemical Defense?”
“Government sanctioned office in times of chemical warfare. Our supervision falls directly under the joint chiefs.”
“Shit,” said the corporal. “The civilians have us on edge. They test the barriers. All they’re doing is slowing down the doctors. The screening takes a fuck ton of time as it is.”
Brooke resisted the urge to smile. Fuck seemed to be the common word in every Marine’s vocabulary. “I hear you. What? Fifteen minutes per person? That all adds up. You know what else slows down the process? Starting a riot by shooting a mom and her kid,” she said. “Let me have a word with them, okay?”
Turning around, Brooke walked towards the mother trying to look as amiable as possible. “Ma’am? My name is Bethany Sanders with the Department of Chemical Defense. The situation’s pretty hairy, but please step back into the line. This is for your protection as well as everyone’s.”
“You’re herding us like animals,” said the woman as she drew her daughter in close. “Like goddamn animals!”
Brooke shook her head. “Not at all. Once you’ve been cleared of infection, you’re free to go. Look. You’re almost at the testing site. Just wait a bit longer. For you and your daughter’s sake. These men have orders to shoot anyone past this line. They don’t want to. Don’t make them do that. Please, back into the line. You’ll be out soon enough.”
When the mother dragged her child back into the sea of people, Brooke breathed easier as she walked back towards the Marines who now stood at ease. “Crisis averted, corporal.”
The soldier nodded as he stepped back into position. “Wish all cases were that fuckin’ easy,” he said. “Thanks Sanders. Hope you DCD folks clean this shit up. Biological’s in the states? Fuckin’ Russians.”
“We’ll do our best,” Brooke said as she began to walk down the line. Watching all these people reminded her why she had to succeed. Though she hated the stupidity of mobs, fear was something none of them had to face head on before. For the majority anyway. About to head back to the ‘Authorized Personal Only’ portion of the compound, someone caught her eye. She knew that face anywhere. “Shit.”
It was her kid sister. This had to be handled delicately. Bethany Sanders had no siblings, and those not within her circle could know her identity.
Sighing, she walked towards the woman as she looked around. “Ms. Wilhelmsson?” she asked. God, her sister looked all grown up. It’d been too long since she’d seen her. “Your sister sends her regards. I work with her within the DCD. If you’ll follow me?"
© 2007-2024