Estylwen
Stargazer6225
mattmanganon
FourtyTwo
Mole
PoeticSunGod
Messengerofgods
Lith
TrippyNightmare
Mixtape Ghost NYellow Brick
Glyde
~Guns Are Good~
Mentions: Isabella Delacroix @Qia
"Transmission received from FOB. Supply drop inbound. ETA 10 minutes."
"Ten-Four. Ready to receive drop." Staff Sergeant Eren Glyde-Savion spoke dryly into his radio in stark contrast to the more lively tone of his communications technician. In his typical flatness, he clipped the device to the strap on his chest and purposefully made his way to the roof of the old NPD Headquarters. It had been close to a month since the previous drop, and it hadn't been too impressive. The pitiful rations had been consumed, and the 9mm pistols might have been from a Walmart with how quickly Glyde had manage to wear them out. His expectations for supplies and gear this time around were naturally at an all time low.
The one thing he could look forward to, if the rumors were true, was the prospect of a few extra boots on the ground. His team had been spread thin to begin with, and recent losses had left a dent in the already small number. Much of the squadron in the 93rd Street sector had been summarily butchered in a skirmish with the Iron Rose; the reports indicated Bella Delacroix had person stuck the blood knife into Glyde's former 2nd In Command James Barnes. The only solace was in knowing his operatives had dealt enough casualties to Iron Rose to dissuade them from brushing into 93rd Street any time soon.
If not for depleted numbers and lack of supplies, Glyde might have dropped the hammer of vengeance for Jimmy in Ivory Tower and Highfair right then and there. Even months removed from the battle the Staff Sergeant ruminated on whether or not he could have finished the job.
As it stood, revenge and open aggression weren't in the cards for Del Guarde. Not until the could tilt the situation in their favor.
Glyde kicked the old door to the rooftop open; a necessity given its weight and state if decay. He walked out under the dismal blanket of cloud cover, a breeze whipping at his jacket. In the distance the faint blur of a chopper cutting through the air greeted his arrival.
"ETA Five Minutes." The radio buzzed. Two soldiers followed Glyde onto the roof.
Glyde's hand drifted to the PDA at his hip. It was a simple device, consisting of a hand-sized keyboard a thin display screen that acted like a pager from back in the day. They weren't glamorous, but the fact that they operated on a closed network from cell towers and other communucation lines meant it was less likely that messages would be intercepted through hacking. His hand clasped around the device, waiting for the distinct vibration of an incoming message. Nothing. Sylvia should have reported by now.
The sound of propeller blades and rotors filled the sky. Glyde turned his attention up, and observed as the pair of crates floated down from the helicopter guarded by the extra hands he was promised. As the crate landed upon the rooftop, Glyde quickly pried it open and nearly gasped in shock. "A minigun? They sure as Hell stepped their game on this time around." He stood up and looked at the new recruits. "Get this inside. It doesn't leave this building until we find a new base." The soldiers soluted and carried the M134 down to the weapon vault.
As much as he wished he could unload it on the mafia right there, pulling out military grade weapons would out Del Guarde for what it was.
His hip buzzed. Knowing it was Sylvia, Glyde checked the message.
"Ten-Four. Ready to receive drop." Staff Sergeant Eren Glyde-Savion spoke dryly into his radio in stark contrast to the more lively tone of his communications technician. In his typical flatness, he clipped the device to the strap on his chest and purposefully made his way to the roof of the old NPD Headquarters. It had been close to a month since the previous drop, and it hadn't been too impressive. The pitiful rations had been consumed, and the 9mm pistols might have been from a Walmart with how quickly Glyde had manage to wear them out. His expectations for supplies and gear this time around were naturally at an all time low.
The one thing he could look forward to, if the rumors were true, was the prospect of a few extra boots on the ground. His team had been spread thin to begin with, and recent losses had left a dent in the already small number. Much of the squadron in the 93rd Street sector had been summarily butchered in a skirmish with the Iron Rose; the reports indicated Bella Delacroix had person stuck the blood knife into Glyde's former 2nd In Command James Barnes. The only solace was in knowing his operatives had dealt enough casualties to Iron Rose to dissuade them from brushing into 93rd Street any time soon.
If not for depleted numbers and lack of supplies, Glyde might have dropped the hammer of vengeance for Jimmy in Ivory Tower and Highfair right then and there. Even months removed from the battle the Staff Sergeant ruminated on whether or not he could have finished the job.
As it stood, revenge and open aggression weren't in the cards for Del Guarde. Not until the could tilt the situation in their favor.
Glyde kicked the old door to the rooftop open; a necessity given its weight and state if decay. He walked out under the dismal blanket of cloud cover, a breeze whipping at his jacket. In the distance the faint blur of a chopper cutting through the air greeted his arrival.
"ETA Five Minutes." The radio buzzed. Two soldiers followed Glyde onto the roof.
Glyde's hand drifted to the PDA at his hip. It was a simple device, consisting of a hand-sized keyboard a thin display screen that acted like a pager from back in the day. They weren't glamorous, but the fact that they operated on a closed network from cell towers and other communucation lines meant it was less likely that messages would be intercepted through hacking. His hand clasped around the device, waiting for the distinct vibration of an incoming message. Nothing. Sylvia should have reported by now.
The sound of propeller blades and rotors filled the sky. Glyde turned his attention up, and observed as the pair of crates floated down from the helicopter guarded by the extra hands he was promised. As the crate landed upon the rooftop, Glyde quickly pried it open and nearly gasped in shock. "A minigun? They sure as Hell stepped their game on this time around." He stood up and looked at the new recruits. "Get this inside. It doesn't leave this building until we find a new base." The soldiers soluted and carried the M134 down to the weapon vault.
As much as he wished he could unload it on the mafia right there, pulling out military grade weapons would out Del Guarde for what it was.
His hip buzzed. Knowing it was Sylvia, Glyde checked the message.
Nickel
Sylvia Madore
Mentions: Hailey Vagabond @Estylwen, Asterion Kairo @The Savant
~Recon is a Booming Business~
The clouds loomed over the upscale district into which Sylvia had ventured. The shades of gray detracted from what was normally quite a beautiful part of the city. The Del Guarde operative had long been perplexed as to how such a wealthy place could share borders with the rundown neighborhoods Glyde had managed to annex. The thought wasn't critical of Glyde, of course; it had been hard enough getting into the city in the first place. Going after a district such as Nickel would have required more man-and-fire power than the upper offices were willing to expend on their little fool's errand. Not to mention the act of dethroning the mafia in such a high profile sector would have clued the whole of Nocturnia in on the renewed interest the military had in their... unique situations.
Three years deep, Sylvia retained her vigilance, and was at least pleased that the Staff Sergeant was finally secure enough in his footing in Yellow Brick, 93rd, and Merryland to start making inroads to other parts of the city. Until recently, her talents and Gyft had been somewhat squandered in keeping tabs within her own districts. Now, however, she felt she was on a real mission, cutting into enemy territory.
Asterion Kairo, the mafia boss in Nickel was of suspect interest to Glyde. Buzz from around Merryland was that Kairo was eying a move into Del Guarde's land holding. Where exactly he planned on striking was still unknown; hence why Sylvia had been mobilized: to gather any intel, and, if possible, run interference to keep Asterion from making his move before Del Guarde was prepared.
When she passed in from Yellow Brick, Sylvia was already Cloaked, and moving swiftly through the crowds as to avoid any blatant contact; someone getting bumped by an unseen force would draw too much attention. She had found a safe spot down an alleyway close to a busy part of the District when a commotion cut the routine air of the gloomy day. A shout, a scream. The word "BOMB" was more than enough to press Sylvia closer to the street to witness the pink-clad girl hurling the explosive into a nearby building. Sylvia flipped on a descrete body-cam, barely picking up the flying bricks that followed the explosion.
She held her position as the second bomb demolished the facade of another building. The cackling laughter of the woman cut over horrified screams and pleas in between bomb blasts. The scene set alight as the girl set her attention on the cars, which errupted into flames like grim bonfires upon the pavement. Sylvia dug into a pocket and pulled out a small pair of binolculars... Pigtails... horns? She had seen some wierd things since she got into Nocturnia, but they had all been distinctly... human looking. She stashed the binoculars and replaced them with a device like a pocket-sized keyboard with a strip of a screen on the top. She rapidly typed out a page to Glyde.
Three years deep, Sylvia retained her vigilance, and was at least pleased that the Staff Sergeant was finally secure enough in his footing in Yellow Brick, 93rd, and Merryland to start making inroads to other parts of the city. Until recently, her talents and Gyft had been somewhat squandered in keeping tabs within her own districts. Now, however, she felt she was on a real mission, cutting into enemy territory.
Asterion Kairo, the mafia boss in Nickel was of suspect interest to Glyde. Buzz from around Merryland was that Kairo was eying a move into Del Guarde's land holding. Where exactly he planned on striking was still unknown; hence why Sylvia had been mobilized: to gather any intel, and, if possible, run interference to keep Asterion from making his move before Del Guarde was prepared.
When she passed in from Yellow Brick, Sylvia was already Cloaked, and moving swiftly through the crowds as to avoid any blatant contact; someone getting bumped by an unseen force would draw too much attention. She had found a safe spot down an alleyway close to a busy part of the District when a commotion cut the routine air of the gloomy day. A shout, a scream. The word "BOMB" was more than enough to press Sylvia closer to the street to witness the pink-clad girl hurling the explosive into a nearby building. Sylvia flipped on a descrete body-cam, barely picking up the flying bricks that followed the explosion.
She held her position as the second bomb demolished the facade of another building. The cackling laughter of the woman cut over horrified screams and pleas in between bomb blasts. The scene set alight as the girl set her attention on the cars, which errupted into flames like grim bonfires upon the pavement. Sylvia dug into a pocket and pulled out a small pair of binolculars... Pigtails... horns? She had seen some wierd things since she got into Nocturnia, but they had all been distinctly... human looking. She stashed the binoculars and replaced them with a device like a pocket-sized keyboard with a strip of a screen on the top. She rapidly typed out a page to Glyde.
Nickel under attack by third party. Pull back?
Negative. Hold in safe position. Report on further development.
Roger.
Glyde set the PDA back upon his hip. If Nickel was being attacked by a rogue party, that could buy him the time he needed. At brisker pace than before, Glyde returned to his command center. Things were starting get active now.
