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Xandrya female Member

Lone Wolf

STATUS: I'd do it again though, let's not get that confused. 5 days ago
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5 days ago
Current I'd do it again though, let's not get that confused.
5 days ago
Pentagon fails 7th audit in a row, unable to fully account for $824B budget. And to think years ago I willingly became government property for the DoD... 🤦🏻‍♀️
2 likes
12 days ago
What I'm doing may be considered suicide but my kid fell asleep on the ride home and now he's passed out on my bed. Here's to him pulling a 10 hour shift otherwise work is gonna suck for us tomorrow.
3 likes
19 days ago
Joined the military, traveled (and more places to go still), finished grad school, married-and subsequently divorced, had a kid... Now all I need is to purchase my own home and my bucket list is done.
5 likes
1 mo ago
This virus has deepened my voice. I don't sound like a man, but something like a drag queen.
2 likes

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Most Recent Posts

In Firefly - Second 'Verse → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Welcome, Dan! Looking forward to a new face. I'd share dad jokes as well but I'm neither a man nor do I have kids so... 🤷🏻‍♀️
In Firefly - Second 'Verse → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
A Treacherous Game

Alana and Cal



Note: The following JP takes place around noon on Day 2

Alana was tending to a small cut on none other than herself as she had been clumsy enough to lose a war with a knife. A knife out of all things, the cutlery that had a protective handle. Please remember to keep knives and other sharp objects away from children, she mused in her head, applying the disinfectant. Luckily for her, no one had been in the vicinity to witness her mishap. Not that she would have been subject to any sort of mockery as she had seen others engaged in in the past. This current crew was decent enough...

After cleaning the wound, Alana bandaged it up and called it a day. The whole thing only took a brief moment, making the clean-up take longer than the fixing. Not that she had much to do save for getting that belly of hers to stop begging and growling for something to eat. Alana smiled at the thought of shutting it up, putting the last piece of equipment away before leaving the infirmary. Seemingly distracted by the idea of having a bite, she blindly turned a corner only to come across the captain, nearly running into him had she not stopped dead in her tracks.

“Whoa, close call."

Cal stopped himself just in time, his hand telegraphing to Alana’s arm to brace them both. “Close is right,” he said, taking in the dazed look on her face. “You feelin’ alright, Doc?” absently, his hand still lay on her forearm. “Say,” Strand began, “I’m headed into town; you need anything? Supplies, meds?” Realizing their close proximity, he retrieved his hand, making a show of reaching for his cigarette case.

"Yes, I'm good," she nodded with a brief smile, "just patching up a cut I unwillingly gave myself."

Alana watched as he went for his cigarettes, giving the question some thought while she ran a mental checklist. "Well, I don't necessarily need any one thing, but I could use some food, and maybe a drink or two... Care to join?" She began walking with him, her expression growing slightly more serious. "I'd like to talk to you about the incident that occurred yesterday, if you have the time that is."

“Well, I was going to pick up a catalyzer,” he began, scratching his chin, “but a drink or two sounds like just what the doctor ordered.” Habit won out, and once the well-worn movement of fingers on silver casing started, Cal found himself with one of his last smokes in the corner of his lip. Cal thought about offering his arm but instead fell into step beside Alana, answering her serious tone with one of his own. “You did a great job patching up Abigail. She ain’t one to complain, even if she looks like hell.”

She appreciated the joke, a smirk brightening her features momentarily. Looking down at the ground in front of them, Alana listened as he went on, and a half-hearted nod followed in response. "What can I say, you're right about her, you know. She's one of them brave ones and in a way I've become fond of her because of it." She glanced at him monetarily, her eyes fixed on the cigarette in his mouth. Not to say she wanted one, but she wasn't bothered by it either. It was just...there. "I've suppressed the urge to ask any of the crew for details, but Cal, why...why exactly was she shot? What went wrong down there?"

A loaded question, sure, but Alana did not care for half truths at the moment, not when one of their own had gone down.

At that, Captain Strand settled the internal debate on whether or not to light his cigarette. As they walked toward Pensacola proper, the light from his flip lighter caught his grave expression under the shade of his wide-brimmed hat. For a minute, perhaps, the Captain was silent as he drew on his smoke. Ahead of them on the path, thickets of buildings started to crop up around them.

“What went wrong was a stowaway Fed tried to arrest a passenger--Badger’s woman, Ms. Baker. He fired a warning shot, but then wheels were in motion. Things escalated, and Abigail was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Cal thought on that for a moment, “Lucky it was just her pi gu, but she can scratch being shot from her bucket list.” He drew the cigarette to his lips, looking up at the shop signs which were looming into view. If he was still going to grab the catalyzer, he’d better do it before they got to drinking, just to be safe.

"Those gorram Feds ain't never up to any good, always sticking their nose where it don't belong and poor Abby had to pay the price..." Her blood was practically boiling, but Alana kept her composure. She looked up to glance at the town approaching when her foot hit something like a solid rock, which was something she wasn't expecting. Alana stumbled forward, though before all hope was lost she instinctively braced herself by reaching for Cal's arm and using it to steady herself. Once all was said and done, she wasn't sure whether to burst out laughing or reprimand herself for her own stupidity.

"Damn sabotage that was," she spoke up, patting Cal on the arm in appreciation. "Can't even badmouth them without paying for it."

Cal’s eyes met the doctor’s, his own arm having wrapped around Alana to steady her from meeting the ground. She wore her vigor against the Purple Bellies on her sleeve--that was certain--and it was something he could get behind. Cal liked a woman who spoke her mind, but he could tell something was going on beneath that appreciative pat on his arm. “Lucky I was here, really,” he said, reaching for his cigarette now clenched between his teeth, “so all that Alliance karma doesn’t rack up another ‘unwilling’ accident.”

Drawing himself up, and by association, Alana, he wove her arm in his own, “See yonder?” He pointed to a bar called ‘Peces En El Mar’ judging by the faded blue and white sign hanging above the door. “Why don’t you hold on to me, and we’ll see if we can make it.” He chucked, a glint in his eye betraying his candor. “We’ll set you down with somethin’ to eat while I run a quick errand. Then I’ll join you. How’s that?” Cal glanced at those eyes beneath those bold brows of hers for confirmation.

She became a little warm from embarrassment, her cheeks reddening in the afterthought. Silently scolding herself, Alana nonetheless smiled up at Cal in response to his statement. "What would we ever do without you?" Part ego-stroking, part sarcasm. She let herself be escorted towards the locale he had mentioned. Walking in step adjacent to Cal, her gaze diverted to the former which held minimum visibility in the distance.

"Fish in the Sea," she added, thanks in part to her limited knowledge. "Alright, I'll bite." Though not personally a top pick she would have made, Alana was hungry enough to eat a horse, and so her fastidious nature usually present at the dinner table would be absent that day. "I sure hope they have a pool table because I'm feeling competitive...if you're up for a wager that is. If not, it's good all the same," she smirked with a slight jab of her elbow. "I'll be mindful of any apprehension."

“You’re on, Doc. Just so’s you know, I won’t pull any punches--even on account of your balance, or lack thereof.” Cal flashed a debonair smile as he opened the door wide for Alana. “I’ll be along; why don’t you go ahead and warm up?”

"So honest but so refined," she smiled, also thanking him in the process. "We'll soon find out whether you're a worthy competitor," she added, waving at him before losing herself in the small crowd engaged in some personal festivity. Alana walked past them, spotting an empty table out back. Perfect.

With that, Cal bid the doctor adieu and headed toward “Maurice’s Shipworks” just up the street which had the China Doll’s catalyzer on hold for payment on pickup. As he walked in the warming sun he considered the situation in which he found himself. A beautiful woman had fallen all over him it seemed, and twice in one day as fate would have it. Now he didn’t doubt his skill at the game, but it was different when he wasn’t even playing. “Ta Ma Duh,(Damnit)” he said under his breath, an idea dawning on him. If he weren’t trying to play the game then it stood to reason that the game being played might be him.

Way he saw it there were two options. Option one, Doc was a might lonely, looking for a friend, perhaps more. Option two, Alana was laying the foundation for something, perhaps more self-serving. That thought soured his smirk as he entered “Maurice’s” with a quick rap on the door.

"Well how's about that?" Alana turned her head to the side to see who was addressing her. "Someone with her head in the game makes a presence but she was seen off by her husband," the man then glances down at her hand, "or should I say, boyfriend?" he added with an inquisitive shrug.

"Oh, um, no that was—we work together." Ideas crept in her mind. Her and Cal? Sure, she was naturally drawn to him and his personality, despite not knowing him all that long, but would it even get past their playful banter? Given their positions, she couldn't guess how he'd react. "He's coming back, sorry."

The man raised his glass in response before downing the rest of his drink. "All's good, I ain't the type to get in between two lovers." And with that he was off to rejoin the group by the front. Alana shook her head slightly, amused by the exchange. She leaned on the bartop once more to finally put in for a fish fry basket for her and Cal and a drink.

Now that business had been conducted, Captain Strand was free to conduct less businessly business. Catalyzer nestled in his satchel, Cal pushed open the doors to the ‘Peces En El Mar,’ and the smell of food and liquor hit him just right. Peering into the darker interior, he removed his hat, looking to spot Alana.

Getting some credits ready to play the first round, Alana noticed Cal had made his way back. She called out to him, waving him over to the corner she was at.

She’d found a table after all--that made Cal smile. It’d been a few stops since he’d played pool, but to his eyes, even in a fisher town like Pensacola, the green felt of the table looked mighty inviting. “You ready to put your money where your mouth is, Doc?” he asked, setting down his cargo. Strand had settled in next to Alana as they waited for the table to open up. Placing his hat on the table, he added, “So, you mentioned a wager; what are you putting up?” Cal’s inquisitive tone matched his arched brow as he glanced into those blue eyes of hers.

She met his gaze in silence for a moment as she considered some options, and it was when she smiled that she finally had a response for him. "Alright, I have a couple of ideas..." She leaned in closer as to not project her voice so much. "We could make it so the loser has to give the winner a 10-minute backrub, you know, melt away any stress lingering around from the job. Either that, or we keep up with tradition and the loser has to buy the rounds." She paused for a moment to gauge his reaction, leaning back against the chair. "So, what do you say?" Alana wasn't sure which route he'd take, but at least she had afforded him the option to pick for himself, though she obviously favored the first choice because taking the loss wouldn't be all that unwelcomed.

“I say: if’n you wanted to give me a backrub, you coulda saved your quarters,” with that he picked up the closest cue and chalk, “Bein’ captain’s a hard gig,” he watched for a roll of her eyes. “I mean, there’s a ship what needs tending, crew needs orders, jobs need linein’ up,” as the table in front of them cleared, he laid the cue down, rolling it across the felt. “It’s not like bein’ a doctor; kickin’ up your heels, pullin’ bullets out of pi gus all day.” Cal swapped his cue with another one in the rack, hefting it aloft. “You wanna rack?”

Arching an eyebrow, arms crossed in front of her, Alana listened to him go on about himself. "Well, you can certainly do a whole lotta talking, but that must come naturally given your job primarily consists of a bunch of delegating and not much else," she chimed in, reaching for her drink to take a sip. "But as much as I would love to continue this conversation," she smiled, her voice oozing with sarcasm, "I'm eager to find out whether you're as skilled with your hands as you are running your mouth." Alana then selected a stick for herself, chalking it up as she walked past Cal to ready up for the break shot. "It's time to humble you down some."

Setting up took her a few moments, and it wasn't long before it was all in place. Concentrating on power and not so much aim, she took deep breath in and leaned forward, eye on the cue for a second or two before proceeding to take the shot. Alana immediately stood straight to witness the action and watched as a solid disappeared in the upper right corner while the others spread out. "Don't you worry none, I promise you'll get your turn," she announced without looking at Cal.

As luck would have it, Alana missed the next shot given she'd underestimated the angle. She shook her head in disappointment and faced Cal with a shrug. "Guess I'm just feeling generous today."

Cal smiled into his beer as he appreciated the doctor’s form stretched out across the table. As the cue ball cracked, his attention dropped to the pockets as she sunk one on the first shot. Her cool assertion that he’d ‘get his turn’ warranted a muffled chuckle from Strand as he chalked his cue. When she shrugged in his direction, he replied, “Mighty kind of you.”

Lining up, he focused his attention on a precarious “10” which required him to lean with the cue wrapped around his back, left-handed. He grew silent as he visualized the shot, then, exhaling, he let go and the “10” rolled into the opposite bank pocket. “Don’t you worry none,” he parroted, “anyone ever tell you, you get this dimple when you concentrate. It’s endearin’. They got a clinical name for that, Doc?”

Captain Strand arched two fingers on the felt anchoring his stick for the next angle. Closing one eye, he exhaled for a long shot this time, his English just short of pocketing the “15.” Straightening, Cal waved Alana in, cupping his hands over the hand chalk before reaching for his beer.

The "miracle shot" impressed Alana, and she took another sip of her drink. She had managed to pull off that same move a couple of times in the past, though just once with her weak hand. At the bare minimum, Cal was going to be a challenge, which she certainly welcomed.

"Why yes, I believe that's what we refer to as infatuation." Alana then watched him miss the tiebreaker shot that would have put him in the lead. No doubt at that point it was anyone's game. She looked over the spread for a brief moment and found her next move, which looked easy enough, then made her way over to Cal. The man towered over her, especially when she leaned against the side of the table using her wrist as her drink occupied her hand, while the other one remained wrapped around the cue stick. "And you know what they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," she added, looking up to meet his gaze.

Cal met her gaze, leaning in, “You got it all figured out, huh?” His half-lidded eyes winked into hers. “So tell me, why’d you really sign up on my boat? And I’m not buying the nomad-medic angle.” There was that scent of coconut again, some mingling smell in her hair or her clothes. It cut through his own aroma of tobacco like a knife.

Her lips pursed for a moment before she broke into a smile, shying away from his stare. "What's a girl gotta do to earn a little bit of trust around here, huh? Alls I was wanting was some room and board and decent coin for a job well done." Alana's voice remained low as she met his eyes once more. "Was it coincidental that the captain in charge just happened to be handsome?" she half-shrugged the question before nodding slightly, "Absolutely. You don't gotta worry about me Cal," Alana placed her drink down behind her and reached up to straighten out his collar as she went, "I'm not trying to seduce you for some sinister reason."

“Ah, but you are trying to seduce me,” Cal said, a smirk curling his lip. The doctor was doing a mighty fine job at that. Captain Strand could feel his blood quicken as her fingertips brushed the back of his neck. “Glad that’s out in the air; it’ll make winning this round all the more fun.” He arched a brow at that, a glint in his eye, along with a subtle nod toward the table indicating it was Alana’s turn next.

Cal did in fact went ahead to win that game, however, Alana beat him in the next two back to back. In between turns, the pair enjoyed their food and drinks, the same level of energy carrying through the rounds. They would occasionally tease each other when the other missed, and the same when Alana sank the 8 ball in the third game. She downed the rest of her drink and walked over to Cal with a smug smile.

“So, it seems I’ve bested you again to finally be crowned victorious. You put up a good fight, but unfortunately not good enough.” Alana placed the cue stick to rest on the underside, grabbing his in the process as well. "What do you say I pick up the tab? I think I’ve already tormented you enough... Besides, you know we’re both looking forward to that back rub.”

Cal had his hands raised in defeat, “Can’t fault a man for tryin’ to retain some semblance of dignity. I got the tab: least I can do ‘til it’s time to pay the piper.” Doc wasn’t wrong, any way this one went the price would be sweet. The medic had proved to be a fierce opponent, but he’d be ready for her next time. And there would certainly be a next time.

Heading to the bar, he signaled the barkeep with a wave. After settling their tab, Captain Strand rejoined his medic at their table. “Would be surprised if Rex hasn’t marooned us here by this point,” he stooped to retrieve the catalyzer in his satchel. “Shall we?”

"We shall," she smiled up at the captain, thinking none of it when her arm snaked around his given her inhibitions and the ability to maintain her balance had been lowered some. That, and she would be foolish to deny the level of attraction between the two. As if the situation wasn't complicated enough... Cal and Alana then left Peces En El Mar and headed back towards the Doll, laughing and talking about any random topic as they went.

A while later, as the pair neared the ship, Alana broke her hold on him. She still had some wits about her and she thought it best to avoid being the center of any form of questioning. That, and she also owed it to the captain to afford him such level of respect. Who knew where his head was regarding their spontaneous outing, and the last thing she would ever want to do was force his hand in the matter.

The two walked adjacent to each other all the way til they reached the entrance to her quarters. "Well, Cal, this has been surprisingly pleasant. I'm not sure what 'captain-ly' duties you have going on right around this time, but if you can't pay up now, then later will work all the same." She smiled at him, waiting for a response.

The doctor sure had a way about her, from that smile to those eyes. His jaw unclenched with herculean force as he dipped his hat toward Alana, “Powerfully sorry to say, but I’m gonna have to offer an ‘I-owe-you’ for now,” he glanced down into that forming pout, “no rest for the wicked, and all.” At that he couldn’t keep a straight face, “I need to get this part down below, elsewise we’ll miss our big debut,” he lifted the satchel at his side. “How about we reconvene once we make it to the black?” His brow arched as he took a short step toward the engine bay.

Over his shoulder he added, “Hope you have some warmer clothes, ‘cuz it’s gonna get a might nippy.” Wait no, he really didn’t. His imagination ran rampant as he headed off in the direction of the engine bay, cold steel of the catalyzer in hand.
In Post a random fact about yourself. → 3 yrs ago Forum: Spam Forum
Aside from total immersion, what’s the best way to learn a new language as an adult? Watching TV?

I’m bilingual and stuck between Portuguese, because it’s very similar to Spanish; French, because it’s what I studied in school to meet language requirements though I forgot most of it; or Russian, because it’s my boyfriend’s native language and there’s no way in hell I’ll give him the chance to say anything about me without my understanding.
In The Energy Storm → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Teaming Up
A collaborative post between @Chulance & @Xandrya

Flint had to be very careful with the role he was playing. Working in Liberty came with certain dangers that previous jobs he had didn’t include. But that was to be expected working for a black ops operation focused on combatting, detaining, and if needed killing unruly superhumans. But he faced more challenges then the average agent seeing as how he was working undercover for the CIA. Like the director Jack whom he’d became close to over the years, he didn’t trust this whole Liberty operation entirely.

It made sense to open up a new agency that focused primarily on the issue of the altered sure, but the fact that Liberty wasn’t known to the general public or even the government at large. As well as the fact that the Forrester’s family had a massive hand in the funding of the organization, it meant they had a very tight grip on the narrative of Liberty as well as the focus of the goals they wanted & wished to accomplish.

However now his work had come across something useful. Sitting in his office he was examining some files he had on some paintings. Liberty had different sections to divide the work-load. He was currently working in the investigative section, whose primary directive was to seek out potential altered human activity that they or the rest of the government at large wasn’t currently aware of. Which meant in layman terms they were looking for active altered humans using their powers with impunity irregardless of the new guidelines the President had decreed to limit the usage of these powers. At first this department was filled with mostly speculative work, but as they continued to progress they started getting a knack for their jobs & picking up on signs of potential altered human activity. Flint had stumbled on something himself, but this was unlike any of the other potential superhumans he’d investigated & encountered thus far during his brief tenure at Liberty.

No, this was something he had to report straight to Jack. As it was a potential game-changer, the files on his computer were a bunch of well done artistic paintings. The truly unique thing about these paintings is that the events depicted on them were not abstract, no far from it. Each event depicted on the digital renditions of these paintings he was looking at where real events that had transpired in recent times, and a few of which he suspected were to be taking place in the future. His hunch was one that he was very sure of, that somehow the person behind these paintings, had the ability to somehow gaze into and acquire glimpse of the future. Now whether they witnessed the future then used a brush to depict what they say or if they’re artistry was intimately linked with the functionality of their powers was something he had no idea about. Still under the guise of a smoke break he stepped out the office, making sure to take & spark an actual Newport to not arise any suspicion and shot a text to the CIA Director. I’ve got something major Jack, call me now, this is a game changer not just for us, but potentially your daughter too Flint shot the text then took out his phone as he took a few more puffs of his cancer stick awaiting the director’s call.

Jack had been through hell the last couple of days. He had not heard a single word from Olivia or this Reaper guy, though the only comforting thought and the only thing keeping him from going over the edge was the fact that her death had not been transmitted to him or anyone else for that matter. To add to his turmoil, his wife, upon finding out what had transpired, had gone to stay at her sister's house after a rather big argument. The fact that Jack was home alone made the days longer for him. Nothing to distract him from Olivia and her kidnapper, and nothing other than work to keep him busy.

Currently, Jack sat at his desk having just received a document from one of his field agents. Reportedly, there had been no activity at the warehouse and the burner hadn't been utilized again. Leaning forward, Jack positioned his elbows on the desk and rubbed his temples. How could he had been so stupid?

But his cell phone notifying him of a new message broke him out of his thoughts. Jack picked up the device and noticed it was Flint reaching out to him. After reading the message, he dialed him, wondering about the news he was so eager to share.

Flint had just finished his smoke & was debating on sparking another for a continued excuse for waiting outisde when his phone started ringing. "Finally old man." Flint said to himself with impatience but happy that the director was finally returning his contact. He quickly answered the phone to speak with the dirctor. "Hello I'm glad you reached out to me, I'v got intel on a truly urgent matter. As you know I'm working under cover in Liberty, I've stumbled across a potential altered that may be able to peer into the future. The evidence I've accumulated is a series of painting by an artist operating under a fake name but all the events depicted in her artistry have occured, and they were depicted long before they happened including one photo of a giant woman in San Francisco with buildings on fire, and Lorizilla written on the bottom left corner. I removed all my research from the liberty mainframe and have it on a flashdrive, I think we need to pursue this artist, having intricate knowledge of events before they happen will give the CIA the edge, not to mention if we get our hands on this person we can use their power to find Olivia if she's still alive..but I mean she's still alive right cause no confirmation." Flint caught himself at the end, he personally would never have put the lives of his family at risk for anything job related even if the punishment was prison so while he sympathized with Jack, he felt that Jack didn't truly love his daughter as he should since he risked an ambush on a dangerous altered rather then give up the intel Reaper wanted in exchange for her life itself.

The CIA director had his free hand flat on a piece of paper, but the moment Flint mentioned Olivia, Jack subconsciously crumpled the document without caring about its content. "I don't know whether Olivia is alive," he responded, his voice cold and without a hint of emotion, "I just know we need to get her back." The director clenched his jaw as a sudden wave of anger washed over him, but he let it subside before speaking once more. "Can you—"

Just then, his work phone started ringing. Without thinking, Jack picked up the receiver and just as quickly slammed it back down to effectively end the call before it even started.

"Can you video call me soon? Somewhere private...I want this off the books for now."(edited)

Flint nodded he could tell that regardless of his perceived perception of JAck, he did care about Olivia. Perhaps what happened was a learing experience, even if it was the worst way for that to happen. "Yeah I can, I'm on break at Liberty right now and I can get away from the office. We need to get a lead o this paintr, right now the focus should be trying to look into the uploads made by her, track down the ip address, and that should lead us to her real location & identity. We make her an offer to get her help, either work with us or get turned in to liberty, whom I'm sure will be less forgiving to someone who literally has access to the future." Flint responded to his director

For the first time in what has felt like an eternity, Jack could hold on to a little bit of hope. "Whoever this individual is, she would be insane not to accept the deal. If for whatever reason there's a painting about this Reaper guy, I want to know about it and I want to bring this woman in the moment we find out her identity and question her. Even if there isn't a painting already done, maybe she can tell me more about Olivia.(edited)

Flint was ready to get out of this Liberty office anyway, he felt more comfortable around his fellow CIA agents whom he knew and could trust. "Right I'll be on the way, like I said I removed all the information from the mainframes so we should have the edge on this investigation." Flint responded a bit more excited then he should have been, an indication that he didn't want to maintain this post any longer then he had to. "I'll be at the office shortly." Flint added with a tone of finality before hanging up

Flint had finalized the call, and Jack sighed as he put his phone down, knowing that he’d be a little more anxious than normal as he waited for Flint to contact him once more. But deciding that sitting around wasn’t going to help him any, Jack stood up and walked around his desk to exit the office. As he stepped out, Beth turned around with a smile. She didn’t have any clue as to what was going on. In fact, no one in the office did. Aside from his wife and Flint, and the boys over at San Francisco Police Department, Olivia’s kidnapping wasn’t news that was spreading around. Not yet, at least.

“Hey Beth, Flint Walker is going to be joining me for a very important call. If someone comes in or calls the office, just ask them to leave a message.

“Yes sir, you got it.”

“Alright, thanks.”

With his hands now in his pockets, Jack walked past her and down the hall. He was going to make himself some tea to see whether that would help calm his nerves.(edited)

Flint finished sending the files over on the precognitive painter to Jack before turning the keys to his hotel & locking the door. Before getting situated he went to pour himself a glass of crown apple and took out his laptop to join the private zoom channel he'd set up with Jack. I'm sure the bossman will be happy with the fact that this painter's IP address from the majority of the uploads isn't in California. Hopefully that gives me an assignment that lets me get the hell out this state Flint thought to himself as the zoom connection finalized.

"Okay Bossman Jack, you got the notes I sent over. It's an assortment of all the paintings from this artist, I have no idea if all of them are precognitive in nature. I did the best I could with my limited resources, but you should have people from the tech/IP department revers search/trace those uploads to try to get an actual location for this artist, then we should search that area see what property if any are there, and who if anyone lives there, that should narrow down our search for this future painter.” Flint said bringing up his plans & ideas to Jack to possibly help aid them in finding this individual.

“Also this may not be related but there's been an assortment of lottery winners concentrated in three areas around Houston Texas, Atlanta Georgia, & Boulder Colorado, only reason I bring that up is I suspect that perhaps someone with precognitive powers is behind that either by selling winning numbers to people for a percentage or perhaps using their power to win multiple times & using different people to collect the proceeds, which may be a connection to this painter or anyone in this country that has a power to see the future." Flint added presenting the whole of his research on possible precogs in the United States

“Hmm...that’s a good suggestion. Alright, I’ll have some of the guys here look into it and once that’s done see if there’s any correlation between the locations of the images and the locations of the lottery winners. Either way, you and I need to take a flight out once we pin down the artist so I’ll reach out to Hanes myself and request you for a few days. I’ll tell him it’s a past case of yours, and if he asks you for details, just feed him whatever viable lie.”

Jack then saved the files he had received onto his desktop and double clicked the multiple images before moving them over to the second screen to still be able to see Flint. He grabbed his prescription glasses and put them on as he looked more closely at the paintings. “One of the techies here owes me a favor, so I’m sure he’ll work on this without logging it if I ask him to.” It was then Jack sat up straight once more and began drafting an e-mail.

Flint nodded taking in the information that he got from Jack, it seemed everything was going according to plan. "Your right and I'm looking forward to the flight, both to get an edge and also because personally I'm suspect of what Liberty's true long term intentions are with the altered they bring aboard. I can understand the need for secrecy but something about the upper management gives me a bad feeling boss. Let me know as soon as you get in touch with hanes, I'll start packing ahead." Flint said with a grin eager to get going and be around the CIA people he trusted more

A few moments later, Jack ended the video chat and phoned Hanes. The two men exchanged some pleasantries, chatted for a minute or two, and then Jack dove straight to business. He went on about a previous case, an actual one Flint had worked on that had given him headache after headache and despite being old, still had some loose ends to be resolved. It was the perfect excuse, the only lie being that Jack hadn’t revisited the case just yet, but that didn’t matter much as there wasn’t any urgency to get back to it. “I appreciate the loaner, Hanes. I’ll make sure to repay the favor in the future if needed be. He shouldn’t be here for long.”

After saying their goodbyes, Jack let Flint know he was in the clear.
In RETRO Slice of Life - 1988 → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Unfortunately I come bearing bad news. Keeping it short but I’ve taken on a project and it’s gonna take up quite some time from me. With my other RPs I’m currently engaged in, I’m afraid I won’t have the time to post here. I appreciate being given a chance regardless, and if time permits, I look forward to reading some posts here and there.

In Post a random fact about yourself. → 3 yrs ago Forum: Spam Forum
9/10 times I will be a happy drunk. 1/10 times I will be a sad and/or angry drunk for the most insignificant reason.
In Firefly - Second 'Verse → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
@Aalakrys

I figured I'd jump on the train before I get left behind. 😁
In RETRO Slice of Life - 1988 → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
In Firefly - Second 'Verse → 3 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay


She gasped herself awake, beads of sweat on her face and neck adorning her skin, making it glisten from the soft glow of the night light. Alana glanced around her space, the gunshots somehow deafening even though the dream from a moment ago was now a thing of the past. She breathed a little slower, looking up at the crease where the ceiling and bulkhead met. Curse her for letting sleep take her unwillingly, though the true culprit was the boring novel which lay on her chest. Just who in their right mind would conjure up such nonsense? But on second thought, she was the one reading it, so maybe that judgment could be tossed aside, at least for the moment being.

Finally getting herself up on her own two feet after tossing the book aside, Alana shuffled on her way to the galley. Her mouth was extremely dry and if she didn’t eat anything soon then it would leave her feeling miserable just as well. She reckoned Abby to be sleeping away the pain and medication in her system, and who could blame her. Hell, Alana didn’t know what it was like to take a bullet, but she wasn’t planning on finding out any time soon, not if she could help it... Even though one could have easily killed her years ago, but that was a thing of the past.

“Sure...” she whispered bitterly to herself, shaking her head in defeat against her own thoughts. Alana continued making her way across what appeared to be a lifeless ship. Well, they were docked, so it wasn’t any surprise there was a lack of bodies through every turn she took. She too could have been out and about, minding her own business by her lonesome self while eavesdropping on those conversing nonsense thanks to the drinks in their systems, but in that moment, the allure wasn’t enough to maker her wish for such freedom. Whether Abby was down or not, staying onboard didn’t bother her any that evening. And even if it did, the sweet girl at the very least required her nearby presence.

A moment later, Alana reached the galley, which was unsurprisingly just as empty and lifeless as the halls. The young woman would go on to prepare herself a quick snack after downing what could nearly pass off as a week’s supply of water. Maybe that evening wouldn’t be so bad after all.
In RETRO Slice of Life - 1988 → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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