MysT3CH

☢The Foundation☢

That works out then.

Edit: I'll have a post up introduing her in the morning.

☢The Foundation☢

Thanks SIN. You don't have to worry about trying to involve her in the current investigation if it's an added hassle by the way.

Image-wise, here's a link below. I still see it fine so i'm at a loss at what else to do to fix the problem.

The Image

☢The Foundation☢

Odd, at any rate, it's Emma Watson.

The image is linked directly from an image on fanpop.com

☢The Foundation☢

Hagura said
Broken image link

?

It works for me, i've checked the link and my coding, they both work perfectly on my end...

Justice League: The Other Side

Believe so.

☢The Foundation☢

Name - Tyler Finch

Age - 23

Gender - Female

Class - 1, Test Subject

Appearance -

See here

Information -

Personnel Record

Born to Bridgette and Johnathan Finch, Tyler was born and raised in the city of New York. At age ten, she suffered the loss of both her parents, who were employees of the Windows on the World restaurant during the September eleven terrorist attack. Tyler, who was under her grandmother's care at the time, was on her way to see them at the time. She, along with her grandmother, Ilia McGregor, were also hospitalized. Medical files from St. Vincent's Hospital suggest that their injuries were the result of 'repetitive trampling'.

While Tyler eventually made a full recovery, Ilia had entered a coma. Landing Tyler in state custody for a period of three weeks before she was adopted by Bridgette's brother, Nicholas McGregor. During that time, Tyler was subjected to psychiatric evaluations which suggested that she had become 'eerily reclusive' and 'significantly hostile'. There was also mention of her exemplifying symptoms concurrent with an Dissociative identity disorder. Her life was relatively uneventful for the next six years, which she spent living with Nicholas, his fiance Karen, and his son Dison in Delaware.

However, at age eighteen, Tyler was the victim of sexual assault at William Penn High School. Having been drugged, raped and beaten by a group of classmates on her prom night. Although the case was never reported to the authorities, for unknown reasons, the event was documented within Tyler's dairy, which was confiscated by Foundation psychiatrists.

Tyler was recruited to the Foundation shortly after, following an outbreak of "Flesh Flu" in Delaware. Although her entire family, along with herself, was placed under quarantine, it was only Nicholas and Karen whom had been infected. While their fates are unknown to her, they are confirmed deceased as an result of an attempt to breach quarantine. Dison, who was the perpetrator of their attempted release, was shot and killed by Class 4 Foundation Field Asset #1633, Marika Wayworth. Once the situation in Delaware was resolved, it was also Agent #1633 whom requested Tyler be considered as an candidate for recruitment. Official record notes Tyler Finch to have joined the Foundation at the age of eighteen. Over the last five years, she has personally aided in the acquiring of over forty specimen as an Class 1 Asset.

☢The Foundation☢

Hagura said
Great. I hope nothing crazy happens.

Define crazy... I always have plans...

To illuminate my current agenda, Cross' arrival time will be relevant to how quickly/slowly time progresses in the IC. Simply because I want it to actually feel as if his journey took quite some time. So until that time, expect maybe one more post involving him to be put up.

Mysty's C Sheets

Name - Christian Aulurien Cross - #3653

Age - 34

Gender - Male

Class - 4, Field Agent

Appearance -

See Here

Information -

Personnel Record

Born within the Olympia Medical Center on March 30th to civilian Mary-Ann Bastion and Sergeant Carl Bastion of the U.S. Marine Corps, Christian was raised primarily by his father following his mother's death during his birth. As part of the third generation of the military family that was the Bastions, Christian was raised on an tedious military-esque regime. He attended Emerson Middle School in his early youth, from which he was suspended six times. Thrice for fighting, Twice for Destruction of property, and Once for assaulting a member of faculty.

Following his graduation, Christian then attended University Highschool. There, he was also suspended twice for fighting, as well as once for an incident involving the exposure of his genitals to an female classmate. Despite his behavior, his grades remained at an constant high, and he was recognized several times for his sport related talents. Football being his primary sport.

At eighteen years of age, Chris joined the United States Air Force, serving as a pilot and marksman. In addition to flying fighter planes, he demonstrated outstanding firearms handling, was trained rigorously in hand-to-hand and knife combat, and took part in numerous missions overseas. Leading Chris to eventually become fluent in Spanish in addition to English. He has been described by his commanding officers as "uncompromising", "possessing unwavering dedication" and having a "high level of adaptability". However, Chris was constantly coming into direct conflict with his superiors. Unable to settle these disputes, he chose the path of early retirement at around twenty-four years of age.

After leaving the Air Force, Chris spent two years drifting across the U.S. before eventually settling in New York City; where he was involved in an incident related to an active plot of terrorism. During the incident, which came to be publicly known as the 'Vanishing of flight 113'; an US Airways jet destined to arrive in Los Angeles out of LaGuardia Airport, was hijacked by a group of terrorists. Having appeared to have suddenly, and utterly, vanished from all sources of radar. Chris, whom was a passenger of said flight, was given special notice by the air martial aboard the flight as 'a key contributor' to the 'nullification' of the terrorist plot. Public records have him listed as deceased, alongside twelve other casualties.

According to the testimony of Senior CIA operative, Isaiah Haynes, Chris was primarily responsible for the safe repossession of flight 113 after Haynes suffered several shots to an leg. Chris, with some aid from Air Martial Kyle Smith, Single-handedly subdued or eliminated all hostile forces, and performed an emergency landing. Allowing for the safe return of the nearly two hundred hostages, as well as the aversion of the planned kamikaze bombing of the white house.

Following these events, Chris, whose legal name was changed to Cross in wake of his 'death', was recruited by the Central Intelligence Agency at age twenty-seven. Where he served as an clandestine asset. During his five years with the CIA, Chris has been noted as an 'invaluable asset', whom is 'exceptionally efficient' as well as 'remarkably perceptive'. Chris has also become fluent in Arabic, Russian and French during his time with the agency. In addition to earning a Bachelor of Science in Aerospace Technology. According to Current CIA records, Chris is listed as MIA. Unofficially though, he is presumed to have been killed in action.

At the age of thirty-two, Chris was recruited into The Foundation. Having all record of his previous life, if only for the second time, erased. During the two years he has served as an Field Agent, Chris has been noted to have become exceedingly prone to reclusiveness. There seems to be only a select few individuals within the foundation with which he maintains in contact with, and fewer still whom know him as anything other than 'Agent 3653'.

Justice League: The Other Side

That post actually made me laugh out loud. :')

☢The Foundation☢

Lakeport City - Lake County, California, USA

He had been walking north for only a few minutes before he finally came upon it. His next clue. A smirk lined his lips. Before him, encircled by a square of yellow tape, a corpse debauched under the warmth of the evening sun. Its entirety dwindling as its stench thickened, staining the immediate air around it as coagulated blood did the concrete. Overhead, a single crow, black-feathered and sleek, sat perched upon a nearby ledge. Eyes trained upon the corpse as it waited patiently for those below to take their leave.

It was gruesome, even worst than the others. What had once been a human body was now only a bloody mound of charred flesh, weakly held together by the shattered pieces of bone protruding from it's exterior. Standing behind the yellow tape, Chris continued to look on. Watching a single member of the Lakeport Police Department in particular as the dumbfounded lot continued to take pictures and whisper back and forth. Two of which were clearly on the verge of hurling up the contents of their stomachs. Turning to his left, he watched intently, almost mineciously, as a short yet stocky male officer shimmied under the crime tape and barked orders at the group.

"Nothing right?" Christian's eyes softened as they locked upon the face of the brunette walking towards him. Barely managing to refrain a glance at her rear as she walked by, the man sighed. Dutifully, he then followed.

"I'm really not in the mood today, Cross. This shit is getting out of hand." Despite her confident posture and strides, he could tell by the dip of her head she was on the verge of breaking down. Thus, he remained quiet until they had reached the black mustang which had served as the detective's cruiser.

"It's not them." He walked to the passenger side of the car, holding the door open as she entered the vehicle. Her cobalt eyes following him as he leapt over the hood and without contacting the ground, threw himself into the driver's seat via window. Silently justifying his train of thought. 'They don't completely dismantle their targets... it's all wrong.' The car then roared to life, drowning out the churning of the woman's stomach as she buried her head within her hands. Sobbing softly as Chris maneuvered the vehicle through traffic and took a sharp left. Entering a side road as he gradually increased the pressure he placed upon the gas, easing off every so often as to maintain a speed of sixty km/h.

"It was Trina, Chris. That thing, was Trina's friggin' body!" As she raised her head to scream at him, the tears upon her face became visible. The sight of them pained him, but upon his grimed face, it didn't show.

"Em..." His voice faded. Leaving only silence over their heads for the remainder of the drive. Slowing the car to crawl, then stop, he starred blankly at the dashboard before him.

For a few straineous and rather awkward moments, neither of the pair moved to exit the car. Both instead choosing to blank out as if reminiscing about some far away land. Finally, she pushed open the door. Stepping out and wiping her face prior to entering the eatery to which they had just pulled up at. Snapping back to his senses, Christian followed with due haste. His hands digging into his pockets as he followed the detective into the building. As she made her way to the bar, he simply stood at the entrance. His brown eyes observing the elegant paintings and luxurious mood lighting curiously as he scanned the entirety of the room, almost as if expecting them to leap off of the walls towards him. Once satisfied, he caught up.

Now leaning over the bar next to the obviously distraught woman, Chris watched as she reached into her back pocket, pulling free a thin leather wallet as her pale breasts threatened to fall from her v-neck shirt. Indifferent, Cross continued to eye her intently. Inwardly debating whether the body - or bodies, as this was the fourth, was indicative of an anomaly or not.

"The usual, Mikael. I'm having a rough day." The bruenette placed her wallet down on the black marbled counter, leaving her twelve twenty dollar bills, her I.D. and her badge in plain sight as she adjusted her self upon the bar. Placing her left hand to her jaw as she leaned upon her elbow. Having glanced at it, Chris silently read over her name in his head. Emily Elizabeth Rhodes.

"Milk." Christian's voice was unusually lifeless, void of it's natural playfulness as he sat next to the detective and shot a heated glance towards the bar keep. Leaning closer to the long haired haired woman, he attempted to touch her shoulder. She instantly made a big deal of moving away. Looking up only to show Mikael an empty smile. If only for a moment, Cross stiffened, relaxing only after an exhale.

"They'll know we're on their trail Em. These men i'm after." Naturally, Chris hadn't told her the truth. After all, she wasn't ready for, nor needed to be aware of it. Hence, he had spent the last month posing as an member of the FBI. Claiming that he was in pursuit of a pair of serial killers whom we're believed to be hiding out in Lakeport as of recent. Of coarse, it didn't help that Cross actually had no idea for what he was really searching for.

Annoyed, he turned in his seat, moving as to place his back to the platinum haired bar keep. After looking between the two, Mikael quickly turned and walked away, leaving only the two of them around the eatery's bar. Chris then let his gaze fall back onto her, admiring the cuteness in her face as he continued to talk. "Look, i'm sorry it was her love, I really am. But you and I both know that that's just how the story goes.." Before he could utter another word; a strong, albeit soft, hand struck him square across the jaw, causing a thunder 'clap' to resound throughout the high-ended eatery. Mikael, who had only just returned with their orders, as well as the rest of the patrons, all shot Christian a brief yet disappointed glance.

"You fucker..." While her words were not loud enough to be carried over the collective chattering and music, it was enough to once again cause a now frowning Mikael to draw himself away from his post. "I never wanted a part in this you know, any of it." She paused, fighting some tears to no avail before downing her drink in a single yet large gulp. "You dragged me into it."

The words caused Cross to grow still, as if he himself had become frozen. Had stung at his chest as if an arrow itself had pierced it. As a result, a growl formed in his throat, only to be briefly expelled when he too downed the beverage of which he had just now taken hold. For a few minutes, that was how the two remained. As silent and still as stone. Feeling the slightest buzz of vibration, Chris then quickly whipped out his phone. Immediately, his gaze was met by that of Rhodes'.

While the two did not exchange words, their conjoined glances spoke volumes as he listened to a soft voice speak through the phone. After a moments silence, a clear "Affirmative." from Christian could be heard prior to him glancing at it's screen. The action was inevitably followed by the pocketing of the silver touch screen phone.

Resisting the urge to say anything more, the man clenched a fist, sighed, then relaxed with an exhale. Raising from his seat, he then reached into his side pocket and pulled free a single twenty dollar bill. Placing it squarely upon the top of the milk glass, Chris then continued to turn towards the exit. As he did, something seemed to change in Emily, who sprung up from her seat. Cutting off his "Keep the Change" as she clung to the back of his right sleeve, almost as if begging him not to leave. Her face, which had turned red the instant his sleeve and her hand had touched, now glowed a dim blue under the light as she dragged Christian around as to once again face the bar. Remaining silent as she pulled him back down into his seat, he simply looked back up at the barkeep who shook his head.

"Another perhaps?" Mikael's voice held an air of complacency, giving his words a snide and rather hostile tone as they rolled from his lips.

Responding with a dry "No, thanks." Christian let a sly grin line his face. While it seemed sinister in nature, it added an aura of grandeur to his face. Upon seeing it, Emily could only sigh as she scooped up her wallet and badge, leaving the money owed on the counter top. Having silently accepted a second drink, she then took a sip, a brief smile forming on her lips as she swallowed a bit of the white liquid. Remonstrantly, Christian offered his hand to the barkeep. Softening his grin into a smug smile, he then parted his lips once more.

"Cross." He let his gaze slip from the barkeep's face to that of Emily's for an instant, observing the way she took to the drink before refocusing on the man before him. His tanned skin now holding a green hue under the light. Having noticed both his glance and his gesture, Emily tilted her head slightly. Unsure of what what to make of either as she placed the now half empty glass of Tom Collins back upon the counter.

\°\¤/°/

Once again seated within the black Chevrolet Impala the Foundation had issued him as a means of solidifying his cover, Christian intently studied an petite map book of the US he had obtained from a local travel agent. Despite the fact that he was familiar with the states, and that his Chevy had been equipped with the latest GPS technology, he still preferred to plan out his routes the 'old fashioned' way. Though he did so more to cover his tracks, as opposed to personal preference. Especially since his latest contact had clearly grown attached. He tried to dismiss the fact that he had as well.

Once satisfied, and confident that he had located the shortest route to Oregan, home of his next assignment, Cross quickly folded the map away. Throwing his keys into the ignition, he then sighed as the Impala's modified engine roared to life. As he at last begun his estimated ten and a half hour drive, inwardly grateful that he was at least rid of the headache that Lakeport City had recently become, Christian then reviewed the audio file he had received from HQ. The likes of which contained an apparently relative news report.