McHaggis

The November 9

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The November 9

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Omega Serenade

"Sounds like a fun and exciting daytrip to squat in another murder-alley for a few hours," Daro said teasingly, crossing her legs on the couch. "I'm bringing a novel to read if it gets boring."

Joking distracted her from a multitude of doubts which swam into view one at a time, or sometimes all at once, taunting her with memories of other poorly thought-out decisions from her past. Some were doubts over whether or not she was doing the right, moral thing; others whether she was becoming too much of an imposition on Hazan, asking him (without really asking him) to help her out of a bind which involved attracting the ire of dangerous people.

The question of, 'Shouldn't we get some help?' was bitten back in favour of a light-hearted night in. Archangel had a team, but it was common knowledge that during his last stand, he'd been all alone. Taking on the gangs did not do wonders for one's life-expectancy, nor the life-expectancy of one's friends.

That was a grim thought. She sipped her dextro-brandy through a straw. "Warehouse aside, how far do you want to take this, Hazan? In the long run." The conversation had been avoided for long enough now, and given that the pressing danger of being hunted down while she moved out of her clinic had passed, and they had enough dirt on Perix to sell on to his competitors, it was time. "I owe you, a lot, actually, but we're edging into territory that's less, 'Let me fix you up after a fight gone wrong,' and more, 'Let's see if we can break into this potential merc hideout as a squad of two without dying in a number of horrific ways.' And, maybe it's the brandy speaking––" Or the company, a traitorous voice reminded her before she managed to squash it down, "but I'm not exactly against it. The side-effect of making Omega better in the process of stopping those after me is... appealing."

It was why she was a doctor on Omega and not a mechanic on one of the Fleet's liveships, safely sequestered away after a completed Pilgrimage. It was also why she was a doctor with a shotgun and a heavy pistol and a few combat drones ready to go. Her voice was higher, the translation tinnier, as she hastily continued, "Just a thought. A stupid one that would get us killed, probably. Maybe our curiosity will be sated after recon and we go back to business as usual."

Or maybe it won't be. Maybe we see an opening and we take it.

The Wolves of Red Lake (Completed)

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Robin Marshall

Location: Abandoned House
Interacting With: Miranda, Heather (and Olivia, Finley)

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"Just buy a van. It's squatting with frills and the difficulty of finding parking spaces to go 'stealth' in," Robin suggested pragmatically. He shared Heather's opinion on squatting, albeit for slightly different reasons: not only would staying in a dangerous, dilapidated house be gross, it would also require staying in one place for a considerable time. He looked back at the sigh and nearly missed a step.

The rooms in upper level of the house seemed to be in disuse, at least judging by the horrible state of the bedroom furniture, so out went the squatter theory, anyway. The box from downstairs was cause for concern, however. 'Possible Vessels' –– it sounded very Lovecraft. Hopefully if it was some kind of cultist LARPing gig, there would be less xenophobia in it. Robin had sold all those books for a pittance long ago, but they were never his favourites.

His eyes widened as the very foundations of the house itself shook, and he caught Heather's eye as she stood in the doorway between the hall and what looked to be the master bedroom. For a moment, he expected it to be an earthquake, or perhaps too much weight on the upper levels had begun to buckle the floors, but it was unmistakably coming from the lower levels: the basement.

Robin blinked away the dust and wiped his face on his jacket to stop the irritation at his eyes. "Let's move," he said, but he was already on it, bounding down the rickety stairs two at a time. He made a sharp turn when he was halfway down them to face Miranda and Heather again. "They're probably fine, but it could be anything, like a cave-in, or a collapse, or––" He interrupted himself as he realised how deeply unhelpful listing off all the possible fatal accidents that sprung to mind would be. "They're probably fine, but just to be sure."

If there was anything left in the house to snoop through, it wasn't worth putting Johnson's safety at risk (and the others too, he supposed, but it was different when it was a friend). And, considering he was further removed from his teenage years than the others, the uncomfortable sensation of responsibility settled on his shoulders like a noose waiting to be tied. He made a bee-line for the basement, half-expecting to be followed, and called out for the basement-explorers as soon as he reached the entrance.

Agents of SHIELD - Concluded

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Arcturus Hale

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Location: Sci-Tech Building 4 - Phase Three HQ: Medical Ward
Skills: Telepathy

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Arcturus' eyes fluttered open, shaking away a vague but no less unsettling dream. Here, the signs on the wall were in English, and in the sterile ward he could hear the quiet sounds of people––the other patients––waking up. Reliving his childhood in any great depth would not be on the agenda today, thank god. He was not in his family home, and he had not returned in years. The staff were not talking behind his back in hushed tones, and he didn't have to imagine friends to talk to.

Someone had been whispering in his dream, just out of earshot.

Recollection as to where he was and why he was here came quickly enough. So he was still alive. That was something to be pleased about, and he couldn't muster up his usual ironic, millennial response of 'damn, that's unfortunate'. Relief flooded in down to his fingertips, which he flexed experimentally before pushing himself up into a sitting position. The whispers from the dream were still here. Some of them were louder now, so loud that he couldn't bear to listen to them, and he instinctively cringed away from the source.

They quieted after that, but they lingered on the edge of his hearing (was there an edge to one's hearing?) like the aura before a migraine. Oh god, Arcturus thought, is this schizophrenia? He was at the correct age of onset for most cases, he knew, from numerous down-the-rabbit-hole nights exploring the wonders of Wikipedia entries. Maybe instead of a power, he had been given a disorder.

Whatever the voices were, he could stem the tide for now. Perhaps it was just a side-effect of the coma. Some of his fellow cadets, rousing in their own beds, looked to be in an equally dazed condition. Arc caught Niah's eye and shot her a thumbs up.

As the director, and later the agent, spoke, Arc stared at a blank spot on the wall in their general direction, a trick he learned back in university when he zoned out to think of other things. In this case, he wondered if they knew what their powers would be. Surely there would be tests for that sort of thing that could have been performed while they were out. Was it only the new agents going in blind, or were their supervisors also in the dark?

Arcturus swung his legs over the edge of the bed and smoothed down the front of his hospital gown, which he just realised he was been wearing. Stylish. As someone who tended towards the never-nude side of the spectrum, it left him deeply uncomfortable –– not that he'd let it show on his face. "I suppose it would be optimistic of me to hope that the ice cream and games come before the practice mission."

The Wolves of Red Lake (Completed)

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Robin Marshall

Location: Abandoned House
Interacting With: Miranda, Heather

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"Could be someone who owned this house. Dunno," Robin said, the last to view the house's only clue thus far. He'd never heard of anyone around town with the name, or at least, it didn't ring any bells. Siegfried Becker. It was worth committing the name, and the face, to memory. Miranda taking a picture of the photograph was a good call, and had Robin brought a cellphone with him, he would have done the same. Instead, he surreptitiously picked it up after the others had moved on. There would be room in The Dancing Queen, as much as he hated clutter in his home.

"Upstairs it is." With only a cursory glance around the room at the covered furniture, which he didn't dare disturb for fear of an attack of the dust bunnies, or something similar, he climbed the stairs two at a time, wincing at the unfortunate sound of wood that was barely holding his weight.

He eyed the broken roof, all sharp edges and broken slate that let the rain and wind in to better destroy the house. "Do you think someone lives here? Or has been living here. A squatter or something." He "Because I doubt they'd risk sleeping under this kind of roof––it could come down any minute on them." Maybe the basement would be a better hideout. If he was a criminal, that would be where he chose as his murderous lair.

Then again, if it's in as bad shape as up here... "Let's check out these rooms," Robin concluded, investigating the rooms off the upper landing in hopes of some scrap that the PI missed. He tread carefully, testing the strength of the wood so as to not fall through the floor.

The November 9

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The Wolves of Red Lake (Completed)

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Robin Marshall

Location: Abandoned House
Interacting With: Heather, Miranda

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"Gotcha," Robin said, conscious of Heather's reluctance to enter the house in the first place. He shot her a reassuring smile, and didn't make any jibes about murderers or monsters or any number of other gruesome ends that could befall them. He was secretly glad that Miranda took point for that reason alone, volunteering before he could get a chance to.

"I bet the PI's ransacked this place already, but let's see if there's anything he didn't catch." Robin didn't like the look of the floorboards underfoot, and didn't trust them to hold his weight, but nevertheless he pushed on. He would go for an attic, or a room out of the way, upstairs, at the very least –– strange happenings never occurred in a kitchen or a ground floor half-bath. If it wasn't the basement, it would be somewhere more fitting of an uncomfortable atmosphere.

I hope there isn't any blood up here.

Sense8 anyone?

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Agents of SHIELD - Concluded

Arcturus Hale

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Arcturus Hale

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Character Summary

Name: Arcturus Alexander Hale
Aliases: Archie / Arc
Species: Mutate
Powers: Telepathy – able to hear surface thoughts and transmit his own over a moderate distance (same room/floor of a building).
Age: Twenty-Two
Nationality: Swiss
Birthday: September 21st, 1997
Birth Place: Zürich, Switzerland
Gender: Male
S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy: Communications
Qualification: Graduate from Oxford (Modern Languages and Linguistics), 3+ Years Experience in Cybersecurity

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Appearance

Height: 5'7"
Weight: 130lbs
Build: Slim
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black (Dyed)
Skin Tone: Pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Pierced ears and tongue. No scars. Tattoo of a power button behind his left ear.
Personal Style: Arcturus has eclectic tastes and no interest in fashion, only comfortably. He usually pairs dark trousers and expensive dress shoes with huge cardigans, over-sized jumpers, and a variety of button-ups with bright, obnoxious patterns. Despite the eccentricity, each item of clothing tends to be from designer brands.

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Psychology

Resilient ◆ Proud ◆ Perceptive ◆ Evasive ◆ Flirtatious ◆ Selfish

Sexuality: Homosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Notoriously tight-lipped about himself, Arcturus likes to distract from questions about his own life by overcompensating with interest in other people's. He's one of those good listeners, remembering and observing the little details, the names, faces, birthdays, likes and dislikes of everyone around him, no matter how inconsequential their role might be. An extrovert through and through, he enjoys being a social butterfly, and prides himself on his ability to find common ground with anyone, even if he has to fake a layman's knowledge in topics he has no idea about.

Arcturus has a disinterest in and is far from motivated by money. The fact that he was born into it is incidental and, other than liking the finer things in life, he doesn't believe it makes him any different from anyone else. At the same time, he doesn't seem to know or care about the value of it, careless with valuable possessions and blasé when it comes to ostentatious displays of wealth. He is spendthrift, especially when it comes to people he cares about and himself. A venn diagram of these two categories would be a circle.

His greatest flaw is egotism. Self-confidence in his own areas of expertise crosses the line into arrogance, and he doesn't believe himself fallible in those areas and others. Additionally, Arcturus places his own goals first even when he genuinely likes other people. At the very least, he values those personal relationships over the interests of any organisation, even if he can't put them above his own interests yet.

Habits: Compulsively checking his phone, picking at scabs.
Hobbies: High-stakes gambling, music.
Fears:

• Guns
• His Family
• Enclosed Spaces

Likes:

• Newspapers
• Hot Chocolate
• Cyberwarfare
• Celebrity Gossip
• Bad Movies
• Polyglottism

Dislikes:

• Mansions
• Crime Syndicates
• Power Cuts
• His Family
• Summer Blockbusters
• Traffic Laws

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Cards On The Table

General World Skills:

• Second Language (Swiss-German)
• Logic Puzzles
• Street Racing
• Card Shark
• Legerdemain

Speciality Skills:

• Foreign Language (Chinese)
• Foreign Language (Russian)
• Hacking
• Computer Science
• Cryptography

What Is On Your Person:

• Clothes: Black trousers, Armani shoes, pale cardigan and charcoal dress-shirt.
• SHIELD Academy ID Badge
• Dorm Room Key
• Phone
• Spare Phone
• Lighter
• Engraved Ring
• Wallet: Debit/Credit Cards, Starbucks Card, $100, £50

Dormitory:

• Desktop PC
• Laptop
• Assortment of High-End Computer Parts
• Translation Dictionaries
• Walkman Cassette Player & Audiobooks
• Dossier on Theodore Hale
• Old Deck of Playing Cards (Marked)

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History

Why did you want to become an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?: Arcturus happened to like the recruiter who approached him, and he wasn't quite ready to jump into proper adulthood. Further study in the academy seemed right up his alley, as opposed to whatever it was he would do otherwise with his degree. They promised that they would have a use for his language skills and his illicit online activities, and Arcturus chose to believe them, though mostly because MI6 was full of themselves.

General History: Arcturus Hale is the only child of noveau riche parents. His father, Alexander Hale, is an internationally-renowned investment banker only investigated twice for fraud, and his match to Arcturus’s mother, the socialite Léonie Morgenthaler, was one of convenience: they live in separate buildings if not separate countries whenever possible.

Sequestered in the family’s Zürich estate and home-schooled for most of his childhood, Arcturus was mostly left to amuse himself. The tutors tried their best, of course, but he was a precocious child, always up to no good and sneaking into his father’s office or uprooting flowers in the garden. He had little interest in learning. Some of the hired help encouraged his love of puzzles and games, and one even taught him simple sleight-of-hand tricks with small objects and a deck of cards as soon as he was dexterous enough. His parents were not satisfied by his progress, and that particular caretaker was swiftly out of a job.

There was one exception to the regime of lessons he so expertly squandered, a bright spot in a friendless childhood: time spent with his paternal uncle Theodore Hale. Far more pragmatic than his brother, Uncle Theo shared his nephew’s interest in technology, particularly as he grew engrossed in the illegal activities one could get up to on it. A few lessons on coding here, then an outline on cybersecurity, and eventually it became something of a game to bond over –– breaking down the digital defences of certain businesses ‘just for fun’ with little thought given to those whose livelihoods would be directly affected.

No less nosy in his adolescence as he is now, Arcturus slowly pieced together his uncle’s secrets and just why he had such an eclectic mix of skills. Uncle Theo had been an operative at the tail end of the Cold War, a jack of all trades when it came to espionage. Upon being relieved of duty due to an injury, he turned to other pursuits as an information broker. Once the truth about the black sheep of the Hale family had been revealed to him, Arcturus realised that many of the so-called projects that they had done to improve his skills were actually to collect information.

Arcturus felt used, with the only adult who seemed to care about him having the ulterior motive of using his skills for some unknown, likely criminal purpose, and so he searched for universities far away from the gilded cage he had grown up in to move away from home. Though his uncle tried to apologise after a huge blow-up fight, he was dissatisfied with his entire family. He blew through his sizable allowance each month with alcohol and partying and, of course, driving (without a license), and nearly failed out his first year in an attempt to stay away from his roots, avoiding computing courses like the plague.

He graduated with a top degree in Modern Languages and Linguistics from Oxford instead, however, old habits die hard. Arcturus had already returned to performing white hat work on commission, patching up holes in the systems of businesses he previously helped to sabotage. For these efforts, he was scouted by both MI6 to join one of their cryptography teams and S.H.I.E.L.D. From there it is rather obvious what route he picked.

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Extras

Character Quote: 'Be so good they can't ignore you.'
Theme Song: Florence + The Machine - Hunger
Anything Else: Linky! I'm more of a DC fan...
_{*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy. I acknowledge that I can and will be removed from the RP without warning if I break a rule or cause problems with my fellow Rpers or the GM.}

Relationships

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The Journal
^{Arcturus Hale}

"Character Quote"

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⟣ 🎆 Respects ⟣ 🌓 Neutral ⟣ 👋 Acquaintance ⟣ 🙇 It's Complicated ⟣
⟣ 💛 Friend ⟣ 💙 Good Friends ⟣ 💜 Best Friends ⟣ ❣️ Ex-Friends ⟣ 😈 Frienemy ⟣
⟣ 💘 Infatuation ⟣ 💓 Loves ⟣ 💗 Couple ⟣ 💕 Basically Family ⟣ 💞 Family ⟣ 💔 Ex-Lovers ⟣
⟣ ♨️ Tense ⟣ 💀 Dislikes ⟣ 😡 Hates ⟣ 👿 Enemy ⟣ 👹 Absolutely Loathes ⟣

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Symbol Dominika Novikova Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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Symbol Cassandra Reed Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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💛 Niah Bautista 💛

"She's a very good cook, and an even better scientist, I'm sure."

Arcturus will forever bemoan the fact that he and Niah are from different academies that seldom meet, the conflicting schedules limiting the times they can hangout. He would not trade hot chocolate nights holed up in one dorm room or another or home-made meals or (frustrating) shopping trips for the world.

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Symbol Tinley Abercrombie Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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💛😈 Mariah Smith 😈💛
"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of my massive inheritance."

Arcturus and Mariah are friends, sort of, but there's a residual tension too strong to be anything but rivalry. While he can take a loss on the chin (provided he gets to bitch about it), his few victories against Mariah identify her as someone who can't take losing herself. Arc wonders if all of Operations are like this.

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Symbol Teig Kelley Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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Symbol Theresa Sparks Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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Symbol Zoya Nikolova Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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Symbol Emilia-Marie Rivera Symbol
"Overall Thoughts On The Character"
Relation Details

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