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Post by The Blue Adept on Jul 31, 2017 0:00:09 GMT -5
are u proud of me lol <3 so nowwwww rp...what is going on
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Jul 31, 2017 0:02:29 GMT -5
Just first intros n shizzle. I think James is open to interact w/ :')
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Post by Salted Squid on Jul 31, 2017 0:05:07 GMT -5
Decided to go the safe route bc I'm too lazy to work out the details of a brand new char rn))
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 0:09:07 GMT -5
ya hes open so go ahead n interact w him if u want
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Post by The Blue Adept on Jul 31, 2017 0:15:39 GMT -5
okay cool! lemme just give everything a quick read through and ill jump on it
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 1:02:15 GMT -5
jeez, didn't realize how late it was. I gotta hit the hay--I promise a response sometime tomorrow.
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Post by The Blue Adept on Jul 31, 2017 1:38:24 GMT -5
"Rook"
Paige blinked, eyes trailing down to the paper in his hand. The secretary, Florrie, waved her hand in front of his face and his gaze snapped up to her, trying to recall what she had said to him. He'd zoned out for only a moment, as if in disbelief. "The Chief sends his best. Shall I arrange for your ride?" she said with a smile that she flashed him countless times even under more grueling circumstances. It was quite comforting even though she wore it for everyone. He cleared his throat and held the paper up a bit.
"...Are you sure the Chief intends for me to go? I just-"
Florrie cut him off, her customer-service smile lapsing into an expression genuine. He could see it in the furrow of her brow. "That's your name on the paper, no? It's already been arranged."
Paige hated to think that she was right. Belgium was preoccupied with more pressing matters and if it was easier for him to be somewhere else then there was nothing for him to do but go. Really he was just surprised that GISS was even important to this Agency. There were far bigger names out there that they would benefit from having, how his name was even relevant came as great surprise. He sucked in a breath and nodded at the woman, tucking his bag under his arm. It wouldn't be the first time he'd answered to the UN.
"Thank you."
--
He went to see his family. He recalled that his brother had gotten married recently, but he had been unavailable to attend. He'd missed his mother's birthday too. Perhaps more than once. Guilt sunk heavy in his heart knowing that he'd had to time to call but not the mind to, and was now about to spring the news on them that he'd be disappearing. It was a disgusting excuse for a family reunion, and unfortunately justified. Paige could not leave Belgium without seeing them.
He could tell that his mother had wanted to sound proud. "Best of the best!" she'd exclaimed, but he could see the wetness of her eyes, felt the way she traced the edges of his scar like a worry stone. His brother sipped his coffee, hiding a mixed cocktail of an expression. Fear, anger, even sadness. He remembered arguing with his brother before he'd left for Korea, trying to pry his tiny fingers free from his trousers and drying the tears from his eyes.
It was always the same when he left, albeit with less and less tears every time and more empty silence. Unlike his father he had a penchant for returning in once piece. It was harder this time, thinking that his ties to them would essentially be cut. Erased. It was a different kind of death, perhaps a more painful one, knowing that he would be out there somewhere.
"I will come back," he'd promised.
--
He stood in his apartment, packing up the last remains of his belongings. He'd always considered his place fairly empty but he somehow always ended up with another trinket or piece of memorabilia in his hand. It seemed absurd to take them all but he was already upset to leave this place. Nothing special happened here, nothing beautiful, but he'd fixed himself here. The floors were full of dents and nicks from knives and the walls were filled with every mournful word he'd ever said. Leaving would mean moving on and the thought of that scared him more than being in an agency full of incredibly dangerous people from all around the world.
Paige sighed into his hands, feeling every ache he'd ever felt all at once. The old place had been forced from him violently, fiery. These were the embers of it, tamed but still hot. He would not let them take him too. Tossing the last old picture frame into a box, he stood and gathered his coat. March 2nd could only come soon enough.
--
And then Paige found himself in Norway. A place he'd never been, surely exciting in part to the fact that he wasn't at war and wasn't out to immediately kill someone. All things considered it was almost like a vacation with all new sights and people. And another language he didn't understand. He was lucky to have spent so much time with the Brits that English came easy to him now, even with his accent, and the locals seemed to know it better than he. The Chief had arranged for his new place, one smaller than before but comfortable. Just enough inland to give him space to roam. Though habitual, he hadn't bothered to unpack his things except for necessities, preoccupied with learning as much as he could of the surrounding area. He attempted to get to know his neighbors, but they seemed uninterested every time he approached.
He was thinking about ways to get them to warm up to him even a little bit as he got dressed for the infamous evening of March 2nd. He'd always enjoyed clean cut garments of classy, richer folk, even when they clashed with his torn appearance. He straightened his bowtie and glanced at his watch. Cutting it a bit close, he finally heard the honk of the car horn outside and headed out the door.
Paige was not the nervous type, not even when he'd enlisted at 20 and had a gun shoved into his hands for the first time. Nervousness could be picked at, masked, turned into something like fuel. And yet he found his stomach turning uncomfortably as they approached Headquarters, trying his best to clear his thoughts with the scenic view. How dare his insides betray him now when he had to get along with a room full of foreigners.
He thanked his driver and headed inside, the rich architecture swallowing him up as he searched for his seat. Keeping his attention on the introduction, he passed his gaze over the crowd in the room. The atmosphere was prickly, almost sharp- overwhelmed with the sheer presence of all the agents in the room. It was arguably the safest or most dangerous place to be depending on who you were. In the midst of trying to recognize some of the faces, he realized the Director had stopped speaking and he was left to the mercy of conversation from the people next to him. His eyes trailed over to the man beside him- older looking, certainly Asian, but the card in front of him clearly read MI6 and Paige felt a cautious wave of relief.
He offered a small grin. "Is it too naive of me to hope you speak English?"
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Post by The Blue Adept on Jul 31, 2017 1:38:57 GMT -5
phew only took 1000 years? hope that's alright of a starter lol
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Jul 31, 2017 11:29:41 GMT -5
It's a gud starter blue bro. I supports u n ur life decisions.
Also folks, for a limited time one spot remains n a new mission for the last three will be made. Come n get 'em for a limited(tm) time.
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Jul 31, 2017 11:38:27 GMT -5
Did I count wrong or r there 117 nations on the nation list from the joining pg now. Is it a fact??? I cannot count??? Maths is evil??? Jfc lmao I'm laughing so hard.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 12:21:48 GMT -5
ahhh tbh I think Z would make a wonderful lookout, considering he can step in and kick butt if needed (but tbh Alphonse prob won't mess up to that degree?), but then again, I think my Japanese dude (who still isn't done, rip. I'm between appointments rn so once they're over I'll finish it up) would be great for the second mission. decisions?? hmghgh
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Jul 31, 2017 12:33:37 GMT -5
ahhh tbh I think Z would make a wonderful lookout, considering he can step in and kick butt if needed (but tbh Alphonse prob won't mess up to that degree?), but then again, I think my Japanese dude (who still isn't done, rip. I'm between appointments rn so once they're over I'll finish it up) would be great for the second mission. decisions?? hmghgh Tbqh the first job is not meant to go smoothly at all xD Also second mission ptobs won't involve the Japanese kid bc national loyalty n alls Lastly I recounted again. It is now 119. I literally can't count wtf
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Post by Salted Squid on Jul 31, 2017 14:12:18 GMT -5
Eww I gotta go to work today Will work on my form and maybe a starter when I get home))
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 16:24:25 GMT -5
When James Zhao Ruan entered the MI6 building, he did not expect much from his day. Perhaps he'd talk to his coworkers, perhaps he'd be assigned on a mission, perhaps he'd have to write up some reports. Days were uneventful and generally quite boring - and then he'd be in the hospital during the night. It was a ritual he'd made peace with, something so ordinary that it now came like second nature. Once, it had been hard to settle; he'd had to reintegrate with society after the war, had had to accept what had happened and move on past it. Things like that were hard to overcome, but not impossible. It had not been a huge task, but certainly one that had given him a struggle.
Still -- Jem was fine, now. Perhaps better than he'd been in years, now that his life was stable. He liked it; though it had its eventful moments (which came more often than not, with MI6 and the hospital), it was stable and it was, most importantly, home. There was an air of respect when he passed through rooms, and it made him pleased to know that he'd earned it.
Perhaps that was why he was more than a little displeased when a little letter sat on his desk. Letters were, more often than not, bad news. His superiors would come to speak to him face-to-face if it wasn't bad, and they hadn't shown their faces, so...well. He braced himself, naturally, as he sat in his chair and picked up the letter, flipping it around and breaking the seal. He pulled out the paper from within and let his gaze flick over it quickly - something about the United Nations, spies, databases...sending the best of the best. It did not quite make sense why Jem was the one whom received this; he could name many other spies within MI6 who were just as good if not better than him. He pinched the bridge of his nose lightly and counted in his head, before gently picking up the phone on his desk and recalling the number for the Chief to his memory. It did not take long for him to pick up.
"Ah - Sir James Zhao Ruan," he butchered the name rather magnificently, but Jem paid it no attention. "I thought I'd be receiving a call from you. Is this a pleasant call or an 'I'm not doing this' call?"
"With all due respect, I don't think I'm the right agent for this," he replied pleasantly, picking up his pen with his free hand and absently doodling on a piece of spare paper. It helped. "Do I get a say in this? It was all very final. March 2nd, going to Norway, and so on."
A quiet chuckle. "Mm, no, you don't get much a say. That was just to give you forewarning. I think this is a good opportunity for you. You'll meet other agents from all around the world, and it might be more useful for your skills. They could always use a trained doctor on top of a highly-trained spy. I really don't think you should turn down this opportunity - you'll be old before you know it."
"I'm older than you."
"That's neither here nor there. Now, speaking to you as a friend - Jem, you're unhappy in England and what better opportunity than to go elsewhere, where they'll likely send you on better missions around the world? They'd have better resources and, to be honest, I'd rather you be there instead of another agent. I trust you."
"What's the point in hiring agents you don't trust?" his own tone, he noticed was dry. He didn't get a response, and after a few moments, Jem gave a heavy sigh and slumped down in his seat. "Alright. Okay. I'll go."
"Oh, excellent!" the Chief brightened up considerably, sounding rather chirpy, now. "See - I booked your flight ahead of time, so that you would be there before March 2nd. I thought it would be a nice opportunity for you to find housing and such. I don't recommend that you find another hospital, though. You get away with it here because our missions have been becoming dry recently."
"Yes, I know."
"Well - if that's all...the plane ticket is enclosed in the envelope, and you should start packing. I'll miss you."
"Sure," Jem smiled faintly, though the other man could not see it. "This is goodbye."
The Chief hummed to confirm, and then the phone clicked as he hung up. After a couple of seconds, Jem set his own phone down and frowned at the belongings on his desk. Goddamn it. He was just too polite to say no to a good friend - someone whom had worked with him for years and years. He sighed and pushed his chair back as he stood up, heading over to the desk of a coworker.
"I don't suppose you have a cardboard box?" he asked blankly. Arthur Jones raised both eyebrows at him with something like surprise, but after a brief rummage around, he found a flattened one. It was small, which was ideal. "You really are prepared for everything. Thank you very much."
"Going somewhere, James?" the younger man seemed mildly amused, and followed Jem back to his desk.
For a moment, Jem didn't reply - he simply unfolded the box and ensured that it was assembled properly, and then began to place his personal items into the box, one by one. "Yes. I've been cut."
"You. You've been cut," Art sounded both fascinated and a little terrified. "But if you're cut, then anyone could be cut. I could be cut! He could be cut," he gestured vaguely to someone that Jem had never had the pleasure to interact with aside from to ask why there was sugar on the desk. "It's for a mission, right? You're going to turn up dead on the news and really you're like, fighting Germans."
"Art," he said firmly, flicking his gaze up to the other, "that time is over, and it's classified."
"Okay," the boy visibly deflated, "don't hesitate to call or something if you need anything. I have plenty of German-language books at home, gotta keep on your toes."
"Art," at this point, Jem felt more than happy to leave the building. "I'm fluent in German and I am not fighting the Germans. That was a long time ago and you were a child at the time, let me remind you."
"Hrfff," said Art, and after a farewell, he left to go back to his desk. Presumably to procrastinate on some post-mission reports.
Without the distractions, Jem packed his desk in record time - he'd had no open cases, and so...it was empty and looked uninhabited very quickly. He picked up the box and held it under one arm, gave a little pat to his trusty desk, and walked out. It was as simple as that, really. His flat was not far from the MI6 building - and so it was just a quick walk up some stairs until he was home again. He dumped the box unceremoniously on the coffee table, and moved away to pack his things.
Then, he was in Norway, he supposed.
Settling into Norway was easy enough to do; a lot of Norwegians, he found, spoke English (even this far out), and the village he'd moved to was rather pleasant. They actively tried to involve him, and actively tried to teach him Norwegian. He had to admit - it was harder than he'd thought it would be, but he figured he could pick it up if he lived here for long enough. Especially if he spent the rest of his years here. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded that - it was much quieter than the city, and he could actually have time to himself rather than deal with loud neighbors with a two year old.
When the Agency's 'gala' came along, he was glad that he was a man of formal wear. His tuxedo still fit very well, and he enjoyed getting to dress up for the occasion. The car ride to the Agency building itself was uneventful, too - he found himself impressed (briefly) with the building - and he presented his invitation to some baffled-looking guards who let him in. It was simply a matter of parking and entering, and then finding his name. There it was - Sir included. To this day, he was still amused by it.
He listened attentively to the speech, and when it was over, someone spoke to him. He glanced to the stranger from the corner of his eye as he processed the words, and then smiled pleasantly and turned in his seat so that he could pay more attention to the younger man.
"I do, in fact, speak English," he laughed quietly, "as misleading as my appearance may be, it is my first. It's a pleasure to meet you - my name is James Zhao Ruan. You are free to call me Jem, however," his lips flicked up into a small smile, "and what is your name?"
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Post by The Blue Adept on Jul 31, 2017 17:24:03 GMT -5
Schrodinger's number omg. and oof choosing missions, u know im bad with decisions
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 19:08:28 GMT -5
Even though the Frenchman put up a friendly enough front to lull him into the ease of a normal conversation, Ezekiel wasn't a complete dimwit, and caught Alphonse's eyes wandering the room in that subtle way of his as he spoke. He was lucky to even notice it; the man made an art out of it, looking as if he was simply considering the things he said, but he caught those deep blue eyes following figures behind him. Quite frankly, he didn't blame him--if he wasn't engaged in a conversation, he would be doing the exact same thing, watching these mysterious people move and interact with each other.
The Israeli drew two possible conclusions from that display, however: one, that Alphonse was secretly bored in this conversation, and distracted himself from the polite monotony of it by people watching, or, two, that he was searching the crowd behind him for familiar faces. The second possibility made him more uneasy, and without necessarily meaning to, Ezekiel's eyes wandered back to the knife marks that marred the older man's cheeks for just a brief moment. The man probably didn't like being scrutinized, but it wasn't like the scars themselves were subtle. Should I be worried? He couldn't help but wonder. Is associating with him dangerous? Who wouldn't want me to be seen with him?
He decided to push those thoughts aside--for the time being, at least. His anxieties were assuaged by the fact that he was even here, in the company of the world's most elite people, and that he was here among them for a reason. Ezekiel was just as qualified as everyone in this room, if not more so; what other country was in a military situation as dire as his? Israel boasted one of the world's best armies, despite its size, for a reason, and he was honestly proud to act as their representative. He'd show them all, he decided, that his country belonged on a map.
"Ah, I understand completely," Ezekiel sympathized, offering a kind expression to the older man. "Our motives aren't so different after all. I do hope you can gain your organization's legitimacy--and I wish the same for my country." In a gesture of goodwill, he raised his wine glass. "To our success, yes?" The crowd of guilting voices in his head resumed their shouting once more as he raised his glass to his lips and swallowed, but he tried to justify them as best he could. It couldn't hurt. I'm just trying to be friendly, and I'm sure the more friends I have, the more it will benefit me.
Ezekiel contemplated his response for a moment after Alphonse questioned him, then finally began with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's just.. Very different than what I'm used to," he answered, tone sincere. "I haven't traveled much outside of the Middle East. Work hasn't required me to venture much further, and it's not like I can go on holiday." The young man paused. "The Prime Minister set me up in a very nice hotel, though, so this does almost feel like a break for me. It is nice here, I--I just--" He trailed off, glancing away for a moment.
He hesitated a moment before voicing his real anxieties. ".. I will tell you, though, that being in Europe makes me wary. I know it's been quite a while since the Second World War ended, but, I can't help but look over my shoulder here." He dropped his eyes from the other man's. "Maybe it's too much, though. I'm probably overthinking it--but it feels almost like someone's always watching."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 19:16:56 GMT -5
Tbqh the first job is not meant to go smoothly at all xD Also second mission ptobs won't involve the Japanese kid bc national loyalty n alls Lastly I recounted again. It is now 119. I literally can't count wtf ohh, then hell yeah, count my boy in! ... tfw you completely skip over the word "Japan" in the mission desc. rip also counting is hard and tedious so tbh don't worry about it? you're fine my dude
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Post by Salted Squid on Jul 31, 2017 20:10:43 GMT -5
Guys the cia has an interactive photo tour of their headquarters online and I just. I don't know why this surprises me but it does))
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 20:17:46 GMT -5
my main question is why did u go to see what they had abt the hq online
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Post by Salted Squid on Jul 31, 2017 21:00:38 GMT -5
my main question is why did u go to see what they had abt the hq online Well, originally I only went on to find some general info n such, for like accuracy's sake, and the link for that is on the front page so I clicked it
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 21:03:36 GMT -5
ah i see well u had fun then
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 21:14:03 GMT -5
psa--Sanjiro's ref is done. if anyone wants to roleplay with him, lmk and I'll whip out a starter.
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Post by Salted Squid on Jul 31, 2017 22:06:29 GMT -5
Well I think Skylar's the only other open char viri. I'm headed home from work now so I should be able to finish her form soon and get up a starter
the american and the japanese... this should be fun))
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Post by Salted Squid on Aug 1, 2017 0:36:39 GMT -5
ngl, the history is easily the most difficult part of that form. But I think I handled it pretty well tbh I'm going to actually get to reading those monster starter posts now, wish me luck))
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Post by Deleted on Aug 1, 2017 0:37:43 GMT -5
i'll go look at your form now
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Post by Salted Squid on Aug 1, 2017 1:35:56 GMT -5
wow it's been an hour and I've finished reading exactly one post. It's like I'm reading a novel. One that I would pay very good money for tbh. I love it))
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Aug 1, 2017 2:57:09 GMT -5
also jsyk Skylar would be a military nurse not a combat nurse.
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Post by Salted Squid on Aug 1, 2017 17:23:16 GMT -5
Me: Knows I should prob read through the rest of the posts n get up my starter Also me: spends whole day drawing
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Post by Salted Squid on Aug 2, 2017 0:20:31 GMT -5
Ugh. This starter is already longer than any starter I've written yet. And it isn't even done))
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Post by LβEΜα΄Κα΄Ι΄Ι’α΄Κ on Aug 2, 2017 0:36:19 GMT -5
lmao c'est la vie.
I'm going to try to get responses up every day. I'm currently on a roadtrip for about a week/ten days or so. So, if I fall behind on responses, u knows why.
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