LimeyPanda

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Kiku and Daniel have come to a joint decision on these changes: So if that counts as two votes or one...*Shrug*

Development:
#1: Mechanical Warhorse
#2: Shield
#3: Legionaire
#4: Alpha
#5: Plushie

Research:
#1: Variable Structure
#2: Nano
#3: Omega
#4: Firestarter (T-wisted Firestarter)
#5: NTAP 2.0

Bleach: The Silent Legacy

You are the traitor. We don't even want you here!

B-Baka!

Bleach: The Silent Legacy

Akiko Ikamochou, 12th division Lieutenant

--One hour earlier—

Research was a rigorous thing. So much of it was guesswork, even if it happened to be educated guess work. The amount of times an individual could remove the core of a particle of reishei and attempt to carefully transfer it into the harvested Hierro cells of a Menos, keeping both elements intact, was only so limited. For some, the process would become dull and intolerable after a dozen failed attempts to successfully bond the two components. For the more diligent of scientists, a hundred or so attempts would be required before the act was fumed at as ‘impossible.’

For Akiko, the tally had reached an impressive Twelve hundred and forty seven failed attempts, and two days without any notable reprieve, before she eventually succumbed to exhaustion. After a while, a few unseated members of the twelfth division had come into the Lieutenant’s research lab; having drawn up the courage to potentially face the woman’s wrath, should they disturb her during a moment of particular concentration. Akiko was not known for having a violent temperament, but it was noted that any scientist could be made into a most wrathful individual, given the right disturbance.

Instead, the unseated scientists found the woman asleep at her desk. She was drooling into a small pile of napkins, either intentionally placed or conveniently predicting the place her head would fall after exhaustion levels reached their peak. Either way, the woman had a strangely peaceful look about her, free of intense concentration or thought and instead filled with a pleasant colouration of her cheeks; as if she were dreaming of something pleasant.

After a few moments of appreciation, one of the unseated members recalled why they had made their way into the room, and nudged at the lieutenant’s arm. “Akiko? Akiko-sama? You need to wake up now. The Hakudo tournament has begun.” Despite the nudge and the words, the woman slept on: ignoring the entirety of the statement in favour of sleeping more. Two days without food, water or sleep had left her somewhat drained.

The second of the unseated officers, an older man with a painted face, nudged the youngest of the pair aside and leaned down to Akiko’s ear: whispering to make the point more important. “Captain Zume is over there already.”

At the mention of the captain’s name, Akiko’s eyes shot open and, with a new, re-invigorated look in her eyes, she scanned the surroundings in sudden interest and with a glint of hopeful joy. Upon finishing her quick examination and having noted that only the two unseated officers were in the room, did she adjust her glasses slightly, while grabbing a small napkin to dab at her chin. “Thank you for waking me up. Can you go and fetch me a plate of food and a bottle of water? I will be making my way up to the tournament after feeding myself and making myself presentable. Once the tournament is over, I’d like you two to help me continue with the work on the Hierro bonding. Is that acceptable?”

The two bowed, and left without objection. It seemed that most of the twelfth division were aware of Akiko’s strange habits when it came to binge-working. It was not unknown for her to work on a project for great spans of time without break, only for a curious assistant to come in and find her asleep at her desk. Some might think her a slouch, if not for the amount of progress she had made in the division: especially in her preferred lines of work. Her success rate was second only to Zume himself.

Speaking of Zume, Akiko found herself feeling a sort of giddiness at the prospect of the tournament. She knew some of what her captain had intended with the tournament, and seeing him in action was always a delight: if only because she had a chance of glimpsing at the true show. It was always the most delightful of pleasures, to watch as he worked, understanding the schemes he worked at under the layers of charisma and deceit, only to then realised that she was an exclusive observer, even when surrounded by others. So few could have even a hope of glancing into the schemes and designs of captain Zume; so much so that she was sure even she did not understand the true scope of his mind: despite the time they spent together.

Akiko strode out of her lab, locking it behind her as she made her way towards her private quarters. She quickly changed out of her work robes and into a proper Shihakushō. Admiring herself in a full length mirror, she felt the urge to alter her robe to be a bit more risqué: as was more common amongst some of the other female members of Soul Society. She wondered if the alterations would prove advantageous at all, in either battle or in getting Zume to notice her a bit more as a woman, as opposed to just an assistant.

The sound of knocking at her door disturbed her train of thought, and she opened the door to find the two unseated officers, each holding various items: Food, the bottle of water, stacks of paper work and even a couple of sealed envelopes. She had no idea where to even begin with all of the paperwork, but she quickly dug into the food, dismissing the two researchers. She’d be a while, it seems.

---

--Current time--

---

At the barracks of the seventh squad, Akiko found herself late to the festivities. The woman at the sign in desk was almost ready to pack away her things when Akiko was approaching, and for a moment, the lieutenant feared she was going to miss out on the tournament. Thankfully, she was told that she could be entered easily enough, if she didn’t mind waiting a while for a fight. Akiko was more than happy to accept that, and she made her way towards the stands. Just before she left, the woman at the desk shouted back towards her. “Captain Zume did very well though. A shame he was knocked out so early: his fight with Shoto-sama was fun to watch, it seemed very close.”

Akiko felt her jaw nearly drop. Not only had she missed Zume’s display, but he was out of the tournament? How unexpected. Had he perhaps failed in his experiment? Perhaps this perceived failure was intentional? It wouldn’t surprise her to find that Zume had intentionally lost the match, to feign fragility in his perfection, so as to have him appear less perfect than he truly was.

It still warranted further examination though. She turned and bowed to the woman, a perfectly crafted fake smile on her face. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll be sure to congratulate him now.”

Deciding she was eager to hear the information about his defeat, Akiko began to Shunpo through the barracks, avoiding the odd person who wandered the halls. She quickly found herself in the stands, and spotted captain Zume in his seat, watching the rest of the fight. Noticing an empty seat next to him, she made one last jump, before resting herself in the seat next to Zume, bowing her head in respect as soon as she was in his presence. “Greetings, Captain Zume-sama. It seems I missed your bout. Was it a success?” Her question, of course, was less simple than asking about a loss or a victory. They were scientists, after all. The fight had been an experiment for the Twelfth division captain, and it was that which Akiko wanted to know about. Had he succeeded?

Eyes surveying the landscape of the crowd, Zume appeared attentive and aware of his surroundings, and indeed he was. However, the captain was hardly concerned with the rest of the tournament and even less worried about those who watched. Instead his mind was going over the results of his battle and so far it had deduced that while he had appeared to lose the battle, he had won the war, so to speak. So when his lieutenant shunpo'd her way to her place at his side, a place that he was, in some ways, grateful to have her, he replied as follows. "The war was won, though the battle lost," his cryptic statement was made clearer as his dancing hazel eyes turned to the woman and locked on her, a small pleased smile on his lips. "As you know I've not perfected the technique as of yet, but that will come later. It is ready enough to be utilized in combat, this I know for sure now," he nodded, turning away and gazing down at the platform as they all waited for the next contestants.

This was the second reason he was here, to survey the fighting styles across the seireitei. It always intrigued him to see these things, even if hakuda was only a small part of a shinigami's repertoire it was important to those who had joined, though he know there were others who had decided not to attend. An unfortunate truth that mattered little to the man. He knew Akiko would likely question him on the details of the fight, which he would surely divulge later on, but for now he'd have to meet her questions with more...vague answers. He didn't want everyone knowing of this new technique just yet.

Akiko listened to the words of her captain with an obvious interest, and she immediately discerned his intent from the words. She had not been far off the mark when she assumed he had met his objective, although it seems he had not actually set out to lose. The experiment had been successful, but Zume had still been knocked out of the tournament. "I'm sorry to hear that you did not win your battle Zume-sama. But as with all things, diligent calibration can only lead to greater successes."

Akiko glanced down at the central stage, watching a rather mundane looking fight between two lowly seated members of various divisions. The pair had followed a tough act, and very few seemed interested in the match itself. "Do I have leave to enter the tournament then, Zume-sama?"

Smiling he nodded once more, appearing to pay close attention to the battle as if he were intrigued. "Why of course, I presume you already signed on, and are merely asking permission to leave my side," he looked at her, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, he had a tendency to tease her at times, hinting at her obsession with his activities, but never making it entirely plain as to whether or not he cared. It would be interesting to see her fight, he thought to himself. Perhaps she would show something more amusing than the two amateurs who had now taken the stage.

It would be refreshing, of that much he was certain.

"...and if I should meet the man who you lost the battle to?" Akiko was trying to prove Zume for information about a number of things with this last question: most importantly, how much he cared about the loss, or how much he cared about her performance, or if he even remembered the man's name. It was her own little test: to see just what she could gather from her captain, as of his motives or feelings on this failed aspect of his experiment. For there was no doubt in her mind that he would see his defeat as an annoyance, and no doubt that he would receive a degree of ridicule for his loss at the hands of someone less than a captain.

Zume did not even spare her a glance this time, instead he did not respond for a long while, his eyes appearing slightly less amused when he finally responded. "Congratulate him on his success," there was an odd tone to his voice, a mixture of smugness and annoyance. It was as if he was hinting that his loss had been an intentional action, an annoyance, but a beneficial one. While not many knew, Zume was a man who never did anything without purpose. Every action he took was essentially to further some goal or agenda that he held, whether those involved knew it or not. That was simply how he functioned, and he was exceptionally good at it too, not to mention he knew how to cover his tracks just as well.

It made it very difficult to tell when he was being genuine, or if he ever was to begin with.

Akiko nodded in amusement at the response, seeing one of the very rare chinks in Zume's armour that would be impossible for most to see. This was why Captain Zume was worthy of her time and attention. This was a man who held himself and his position with a perfectly refined and practiced grace that made him so enigmatic, despite his obvious superiority: To many, he was the kind-if-eccentric Captain of the twelfth division; to some, he was the dangerously unknown element inside of Soul Society that commanded fear and respect; and to a select few, he was both of those things and so much more.

Reaching into her sash, Akiko seemed to pull out a bag of sorts: which she unwrapped slowly and offered to Zume. "Since I have to wait for my match, I thought I would stay here, should that please you Zume-sama. I brought a new snack for you to try: Takoyaki. I made them myself, as always." Like many things, Akiko excelled at cooking once she put her mind to it. She had quickly discovered that the culinary 'arts' were not, in fact, art at all: but instead a very exact science. Measurement, time-management, and a hint of creative thinking: both cooking and research required those things, after all.

Inside the bag, alongside two dozen Takoyaki balls of perfectly equal, spherical form, was a metal skewer, ideal for the consumption of the warm dish: it seemed Akiko had failed to miss a trick, as always.

Smiling at the mention of Takoyaki, Zume nodded gratefully and took some of the offered food items. Slowly, almost meticulously, he began to consume them, savoring the slightly sour flavor and the ever so crunchy flavor of the fried snack. It did well to refuel after using a decent amount of energy, especially in the manner he had during his bout with Shota. He was of course grateful for more than just the Takoyaki, in truth he was also rather grateful to have a lieutenant such as Akiko...at least on the surface. Beneath the facade she was a useful piece on his grand chessboard, one that he would use to its maximum efficiency if even half of his plans went well. He was, as Akiko had surely deduced by now, an exceptionally diligent and calculating individual, he had let on that much to her.

He had figured that, at least on the second level, this woman was trustworthy. Her obsession with him was something that he had every intention to utilize. She was a valuable asset, all in all and he needed as many of those as he could acquire, not that he didn't have a fair amount already, because he certainly did. "They're quite good, as usual," he said as he finished his second spherical treat, after which he gently acquired two more from her. He figured this much would be enough recognition and food to help him get back to his peak. Granted the healing kido would take a bit longer, though no less than a few more minutes, to heal the fairly minor injuries inflicted upon him.

Even with the injuries factored in the tournament had now done more good than it had wrought bad, at least with him in mind. The boy owed him a favor now, and he had also shown an interest in learning his technique, which meant that he could further endear the boy to him, much to his personal benefit. If that weren't enough he had gathered enough data to conclude that he could use his new style in combat with little worry of it being ineffective or failing him unpredictably. It had already been a productive day in his opinion, and it was only bound to become more so.

A slightly crimson flush took to the lieutenant's cheeks, upon hearing the compliment. Perhaps the only moment thus far that belayed some of the less...'logical' moments she had, as a result of her fixation upon the twelfth division captain. She did not disillusion herself in his ignorance as to her affections, and since she knew Zume to be a master manipulator, she had no doubt that he was not only aware of those feelings, but that he openly used them to his benefit.

Yet surely, that was a part of his charm: His intelligence, his forethought, his understanding of the world; on top of his charisma, power and appealing appearance. All of those things made up the man worthy of her time and her affection. As of yet, none had proved his equal, so why should her affections wonder elsewhere? "You honour me as always, Captain. I'm thinking of trying salted-caramel shortbread next." She placed the bag of snacks between the pair, after Zume partook of his last two. She was not a huge fan of such snacks: much preferring sweet foods. If only four were eaten, then so be it. Besides, knowing Zume: he might socialise with a captain, after she leaves: and the snacks might prove a decent ice breaker.

Straightening her back and assuming a more proper position on the chair, Akiko's eyes across the crowd, uninterested in the fight below. She wondered if she might spot any other important Shinigami in the observers, and she hoped that her time people-watching might provide some distraction from the boredom of the show below. Anything would do, really: an interesting captain, an observant lieutenant, anything that might distract her wandering mind. She'd have a while before she had to fight, either way.

Chrono Asylum: Prelude to Madness~

Barnabus, the Bear and Dr Frankenstein (The monster)

---

Having dislocated his arm, Bjorn was trying more than anything to simply ignore the occasional pain that came when a bullet collided with his shield, sending shudders through his body and up to the injured joint. The fact that the Asylum was acting so…Child-like was a strange turn: he didn’t know what to expect when he aligned himself with an asylum, only that it was important. Hell, the Asylum had presented a set of empirical, irrefutable facts to make that point come across.

And yet, this was not the same person who wove words with intellect and pure knowledge: This was a fearless little girl.

Bjorn felt himself inhale quietly at the feel of the woman prodding at his dislocated arm: and was about to ask her to stop when she shouted out her intent to ‘fix it.’ The sickening crunch of his arm relocating and popping back into place was met with the resounding grunt of pain that came from such an action. Few things hurt more than relocating a joint, and even a trained fighter had to acknowledge pain of that level, from time to time.

Following Rena’s ‘success’, Bjorn started to flex his fingers and test the movement of his digits. They felt fine enough, if not a little sore, so he reached at his side to grab his maul. It was about this time that Rena took the role of Frankenstein, while he was assigned the role of the monster. A few memories of his youth, playing similar (albeit, less imaginative) games with Thora. The thought brought a smile to his face, and he decided that he would play along. Taking on the droning, booming voice of a more stereotypical rendition of Frankenstein’s monster, Bjorn responded with a “Yes, master” before beginning his slow advance: Shield still high, so as to block any bullets.

It was when Barnabus was called out as his ‘bride’ that he burst out laughing. “Me think Master should make me better bride.”

It was when the Kings paused to assess the apparent madness of Rena that both melee-focused Asylums seemed to get the idea of attacking. Rena threw a dagger, skewering one grunt through the space between his eyes, while Bjorn went from slow, lumbering and defensive to Aggressive and powerful. With his shield raised still, Bjorn entered a dash that had him in the midst of the Kings, slamming a shield into one and bringing his maul down on another. The sickening crunch of bone was enough to confirm two kills, but the other kings suddenly focused fire on Bjorn and Rena. Bjorn brought up his shield, pinned down by the fairly constant rate of fire. He’d need Barnabus to clear the way, before he could come out swinging again. After all, the priority was keeping Rena safe.

---

Vikings don’t do well underground.

---

With the scrawny king in front of her, Thora was expecting to find her way to the Asylum very quickly. The boy was sure that he knew where the hell he was going, after all: and that was his meal ticket for maybe not dying today.

Sadly, The Forsaken runt was being led by an incompetent man. The little Hispanic fuck had actually gotten his little group lost, so now…well…

…Thora was lost.

At first, she raged at the Forsaken runt, punching him in the face when he finally admitted that he didn’t know where they were. She had basically figured that much out already, and it seemed the boy was just trying to be honest. Then Thora began raging at the Hispanic man who led the Kings before. At least he died like the insignificant asshole he was.

Then she started to rage at the tunnels. Why fucking Tunnels? No landmarks, no stars, no nothing she could use. “This is bullshit! Fucking Alchemy jammers.”

And then something hit her. She suddenly slapped her palm against her forehead as the thought came to her mind, and she turned to the King. “Right, kid: I’ve got a deal for you. If you answer my questions, I’ll put in a good word with the big bosses. They might even not kill you. But you gotta answer my questions, understand?”

The runt nodded, not sure if he should be happy or terrified.

“Okay, here goes. What I need is for you to tell me how you fuckers can use Alchemy. Fact is, a jammer should be workin’ on all of you, if it affects us. There is no way you could have predicted the secondary group being here…” She remembered a conversation she’d had with Bjorn, about how the ‘second element’ or simply, the group of people who’d come in originally to kill the Asylum’s cohorts, were a wild card against the Kings, who might have counter measures for the original alchemists. “…That means that whatever the fuck is stopping my alchemy powers should be unbiased. You guys should be powerless too, so how come you aren’t?”

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Kiku would like to attend the Shadow Realm Zone, While Daniel will engage U-Arm

Desolation Row(Altered Tundra and LimeyPanda)

While eating with my hands wasn't quite what I meant, the image made me chuckle enough that I don't mind.

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Raen Elvarasi said
*Pat* *Pat* It's okay. Kiku lost an arm too. I bet we will all lose one at some point, as it seems to be Brovo's humor that propels our enemies.

And some internal organs. Don't belittle Kiku's propensity for getting owned.

As for Jorick's ideals on NPC placement, I do not agree with them all. Not that they are terrible, but here are my thoughts.

Abimael-Retrieval Squad: As has been stated, Abimael is not exactly a perfectly loyal being yet, as far as we know. We have managed to get him on our side, but what is to stop his loyalties shifting? It is dangerous to send him against mutants so early, when instead we could reinforce trust in the Bunker by having him help recover Eve. It should also be noted that Eve might also take well to the sight of another mutant.

Col Maria Black-Shadow Zone: The fact is, Col Marie is going to be an asset wherever we send her. She has a powerful Electricity rifle, which will probably be one of the best weapons we have against Mutants with tough skin, and truthfully, she might be the only being that possesses the firepower to down one of the Homonculi from last round, which will almost certainly be involved in a mission to recover Eve.

Sergeant Morai Lee - U-ARM Wing: I agree with Jorick here: Explosions are good vs organised, easy to predict targets.

Specialist Carolyn Antoinette - Recovery Squad: If anything, I want that little Ditzy for this mission, as she is most likely going to be able to track Eve the best. Also, having considerable fire power is going to be useful, since there is no doubt going to be at least a few enemies who bleed through to Eve.

Captain "Daring" Derek: Mobile- He should focus on helping out the recovery squad and the Shadow Zone the most, since U-ARM is more likely to have Anti-Aircraft weapons than anyone else.

Desolation Row(Altered Tundra and LimeyPanda)

Beth awoke with a start at the sound of her name and the smell of…bacon? Why the hell was the smell of bacon flowing through her house? It took her a second to recall the fact that she was sharing her home with whatshisname. Connor or Callum or something…She’d stick with teasing him for a name like ‘Fist’ because hell, she didn’t have much else to grasp on about the guy.

Looking up at the computer screen, still left on from her work last night, she decided to check to see if her contact had gotten back to her yet, and was annoyed to find that he had not. To think that he was going to be another couple of days was frustrating. That meant she was stuck with the guy downstairs for another couple of days.

The smell of bacon caught her nose again, and suddenly she wondered if that would be too bad? At least he was house trained, after all.

She stood up and stretched, realising she was still in the clothes she’d worn for the heist, and she sighed. No doubt the other guy was going to be dressed up in his work gear too. She walked over to a large wardrobe and pulled out a couple of clothing items: male ones. They were all the remnants of her exes clothing: in various sizes. She eventually grabbed a pair of jeans and a casual looking shirt. Grabbing them both, she balled them up and made her way downstairs.

When she got to the kitchen, she felt her mouth open wide into a rapturous yawn: right in front of Chris…That was his name, Chris.

“Nice to see you make breakfast. What other tricks do you do?”

Not waiting for him to answer, she threw the balled up clothes towards Chris, aiming for his head.

“Those are some spare clothes; feel free to get changed so that we can burn your other gear and mine: No evidence and all that.”

She sat down in one of the wooden seats, grabbing the near-by pot of coffee and pouring some of the brew into a cup. She sipped at the drink black and without sugar, trying to awaken herself as best as she could.

“God, that stuff is good.”

After that, she began to pile food onto her plate, not caring about pacing herself or acting the lady in front of some freeloader. He’d cooked breakfast, sure: but he was still some guy crashing at her place after a funky job. She didn’t need to pretend to be anything prissy or some shit.

“So we never got much chance to talk during the…crazy.” She takes a bite of her food, chewing through a mouthful of sausage and egg with a contented smile on her face: this stuff was good! “How on earth did you get a nickname like ‘Fist’?”

She had decided to not talk about the obvious corpse in the closet yet: The Artefact could wait, and it would probably be best to break the ice a little bit.

Chrono Asylum: Prelude to Madness~

I'll be working on a post later today: Probably have it out today, although I've just started collage again, so excuse me if I'm a bit more quiet than normal.

As for the apperances of Thora and Bjorn...Well Bjorn is already documented as the lovable Norse bear sized man he is, but Thora?

I imagine Thora something like this.

Thora

She likes hunting, sparring, fighting and generally being a bad ass.

Desolation Row(Altered Tundra and LimeyPanda)

ill be posting in this later today. Sorry