xodus — Roleplayer Guild

It didn't long for the assembled party to begin their journey to the briefing room, if Terra's orders were not enough every associated Asylum had received a telepathic communication demanding their presence. It appeared to have been scheduled ahead of the designated time, however with all the ruckus in the Cafeteria, perhaps management felt it prudent to have the trouble makers briefed and on their way. Angel for one found it quite bothersome, the man had intended to delay this inevitable assembly to the last second as a form of defiance and yet now there was no escaping it. From the way Angel appeared to have his eye brows narrowed while staring at one of the banshees ahead, through his silver tinted spectacles, it was clear there was another reason for his stale mood. 

"This little one," Angel thought as he slowly paced himself closer to the banshees, his stare fixed at Maeve. She had been a troublesome deviant who had always been a handful and the weary sigh which the Silver Reaper heaved seemed to stress it. His coffin was firmly strapped onto his back once more and it seemed to be have been polished. There were a few personal belongings which Angel guarded akin to Fafnir and his gold, his massive metal coffin, his spectacles and his over-coat which he rarely ever wore. From all the memories he shared with the Banshees and their cooperative missions, one appeared to rise in stark contrast to the others. Maeve sleeping on his coffin, not a care in the word and with a look of serenity that a monk may envy. 

It didn't take long for Angel to suddenly appear behind Maeve, his towering figure staring down at the stubborn Celtic warrior. His palm quite gently placed itself on top of Maeve's head as if to hold a jar by its lid, his back slowly bent so that his face could be parallel to this troublesome girl, his spectacles shimmering an eerie silver and staring at her as if two mirrors pointed towards you. 

"I see you find my coffin to be suitable substitute to a chair, was it comfortable?" The entire statement appeared to be heavily laced with rhetoric and the man knew the woman would in fact answer it feigning innocence. "At least you didn't sleep on it again.....it is not a chair, troublesome girl." By the time the Lost Number finished his chastising and his palm had left the she-warrior's head, her hair-style appeared to have been re-designed, alchemically, into a one that is often found on little lassies. A pony tail extending from the top of the head as if a fountain on top of one's head. 

Before Angel could examine the Asylum's reaction to her hair, his attention appeared to suddenly divert to his partner, the Chrono. Rena had rather quickly found herself attached to the new Asylum whose size was a tad tinier than Rena. The Lost Number had never really considered this, while Rena had been with children and those her size, that had always been out in the world, mainly orphanages. She has never been with a 'kid' Asylum, it was a little heartwarming to see the Chrono smiling about with another, it gave a sense of familiarity. I suppose no one wants to be out of the place all the time. His trail of though calmly continued as the Asylums walked their way towards the briefing room. 

Rena, as Angel observed, had latched herself to Audrey. Often ogling the Asylum as if she were an oddity among them, for Rena the word Asylum was synonymous to being big and intimidating, however she found this person quite opposite to that label and it appeared to fascinate her. She maintained her fascination throughout their brief walk towards the appointed room, twirling around Audrey, tugging at her arm or her hair or her clothes often followed by remarks such as, 'such tiny shoes', 'such tiny pants', 'I have a doll just like you'. 

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The Briefing
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It wasn't long till most of the Asylums had seated themselves on comfortable shares with their elbows leaning on a large black table, all staring at a single individual standing in front of him. From his appearance it was quite obvious the man was in charge of dispatching them, however even a novice could tell this man was no Alchemist, he was human. Every Alchemist gave off an energy reading that defined him or her as an alchemist, yet this fellow was entirely human. Possibly a seeker, yet logic stated he was of a higher post. It did make sense, why would A.M.R.O trust an Alchemist with mission details, Alchemists regardless of their prowess, all were a threat due to the insannadiction effect. Most perceptive Asylums could already peace out the fact, those on top had to be humans. 

"Does anyone know why we're all gathered here, or have any inkling of what the mission is going to be?"

Maeve's question, as if a certain signal, started the official debriefing with the human in the black suit slowly tapping the table causing a ripple through it to reveal an interactive interface embedded in the table. 

"I suppose we should get straight to the point, you lot have caused trouble enough as it is, alright Aii (pronounced 'eye') show them what they need to know." As soon as the man's words concluded a sudden holographic appearance of a bald female head appeared on top of the table, situated at the middle. 

"Good evening Gentlemen," The head welcomed those in front with a polite yet mechanical tone, shifting to do the same to the females. "And ladies," she continued and all the while she spoke Angel appeared the most disturbed of what is going on. The sudden crevices on his forehead appeared enough to spell the words he thought. 'What sorcery is this.' 

"I am the Artificial Intelligence Interference, you may call me Aii (Eye). I will be providing you with the current mission debrief." As the artificial intelligence spoke, details of the mission appeared in a page like format on the table, the digital pages whisking towards all those present. Again it was no surprise that Angel appeared to be the only one staring in disbelief. 

"An event unlike ever before has occurred, a Bloodline has been annihilated leaving but a single survivor and no sign of the culprit," with those words alone a sense of urgency suddenly resonated among those present, at least Angel felt it. These very words foretold disaster and at an unfathomable scale. It was no secret that A.M.R.O marinated balance through its strict vigilance on alchemy, it existed as an administrative body. However there was also another aspect which was just as crucial in maintaining the balance among the rouge alchemists of the world. That was the Bloodlines, families which held power and a license to operate freely from A.M.R.O themselves as long as a few rules were maintained. They would suppress the rogue elements, they would provide A.M.R.O with children who excelled in alchemic potential, they would not fight or cause chaos that has far reaching consequences and they would share wealth and information. This relationship had been incremental in establishing A.M.R.O as the unquestionable entity that ruled from the shadows. The Bloodlines considered themselves royalty in the world of alchemy and the rogues often followed and bent a knee to them, yet there had always been an unstable relationship among the Bloodlines themselves, even so they respected the treaty of peace laid out by A.M.R.O. Now a Bloodline had been eradicated, it meant war. 

"The Legende who were one of the Eight High Crests, have been destroyed. Their estate is in ruins as you can see yourself." As Aii continued the pages appeared to slowly change to show a video recording of the ruined Legende estate, a rubble. "This is a potentially world threatening problem, the Bloodlines are barely adhering to the treaty and war is a likely outcome, I predict a 45% likelihood. If a war occurs among the Bloodlines, the damage will be catastrophic before A.M.R.O can successful suppress it. The top most priority is to find the one responsible, however since no clues have been recovered the priority has shifted. Your objective is to locate the sole survivor who has sought refuge with the Pallidino Bloodline in Venice. She maybe the only one who holds the answers and as such this will be a level A asset recovery operation. There is little time to waste, the porters have established the teleportation circle and you are to move out right now. Locate Anya Legende before the threat of war escalates, God Speed." 

With that said the illuminated table appeared to suddenly extinguish with Aii vanishing and the room itself going pitch black, the single source of light coming from the door that led out. 

"God Speed," The human who was shrouded in the blackness whispered softly as if to say this is their Que to leave and succeed at this mission. 

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Venice after jumping in the 'teleportation ring'
Location: Cafe Florian
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The Ante Mortem had been the first ones to enter the teleportation ring. It was one of the few new alchemic advancements A.M.R.O had made. Porters were specialized Asylums who were trained in the art of teleportation and they through utilizing a team would form a large interconnected sigil which would in turn form the 'Teleportation Ring' a large sigil with the potential to teleport Asylum over vast distances. 

The timely departure of the Ante Mortem alone appeared to show the necessity for haste, this mission was not like most and as such demanded one's utmost focus. Or at least it should have....

"I can't belief I am finally in Cafe Florian!" Angel exclaimed raising a croissant before taking a bite of it. Even Rena appeared to share in her partner's enthusiasm who was now occupied with finishing a large bowl of their finest gelato, and the sheer bliss on her face was all the critique needed. 

It was quite obvious the Ante Mortem had their priorities straight.
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