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| Ryan Holder |
 Posted: Sat Jan 17, 2009 10:16 am |
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Creeper
Joined: 04 Jan 2009
Posts: 16
Location: Subject Not Found
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((I didnt know where to put this, but anyone is free to join. The Rp takes place one hour before the prolouge, and it will lead up to it. If you wish to show in that part just wait, I'll get there shortly.))
[[ONE HOUR LATER]]
The building in question was built as a warehouse. To this day it was used as such. Gary Lampert, son of William Lampert, took over the automobile business when his father had finally passed away, at the wheezing, tobacco spitting age of eighty-three. Now it was merely a front, its primary use shipping and distributing narcotics around the city. The warehouse actually ran a repair service but the prices were so high no one ever came to them, they were safe.
The fortress was huge, at least half a football field long. It was surrounded by a plethora of buildings, all bought over time to be under the thumb of the Lampert’s. The one on the left was an apartment complex, long abandoned. To the right another warehouse, this one several floors, all of which dedicated to the workings of the black market. Four floors to be exact. Directly behind them, facing the opposite way was an office building, ordinary good for nothing peons wasted their lives there, not knowing the numbers they punched into the computers had to deal with the numbers for narcotics shipped world-wide. They did their job dutifully. Every so often, one would find a flaw and happen upon the truth. They were quickly fired and then never seen again. More than likely ending up in the bellies of Lampert’s personally alligators. The man was rich, he had his fingers in almost everything going on in the city and surprisingly he wasn’t the biggest threat. He was quite low the on the totem pole, his organization still small in comparison to the others.
Inside the fortress was lines of cars, both old and new. The place was used as a storage for the bosses personal collection. All types of cars, both legal and illegal were there, ranging from trucks to small two seat cars and motorbikes. The place itself was surrounded by a chain link fence, six foot high. No barbed wire, it was against city laws. They didn’t need it. Placed in the front, on six different spikes were a pack of rottweiler’s, each on a ten foot chain, giving them enough space to run around happily and reach the gate but not get in each others ways. The street was devoid of activity, Cars lined the sides but nothing else. No humans inside, just the random dashes of cats finding home or chasing prey.
Soon though, sound could be heard. Low, distant, rumbling thunder. It was closing in. Darkness was soon dissipating, the ground shook with the deafening roar of cars, all racing to one location. Overhead, steel birds with propellers that had the power to create thunder and light up the sky with metal lightning, swooped overhead, stopping short of the fortress. Vehicles of all shapes raced around the corners, coming out of every orifice, also stopping short just in front of the warehouse. In seconds the vans opened up and men, women, and their guns came rushing up and taking positions behind the safety of their vehicles, or the shelter of the buildings around their target. They had all been given the same order. On man, hidden inside, was to be captured, dead or alive. Preferably alive. The employers still had many plans for the target.
The power was cut to the warehouse, the gates ripped open. No one took note that the dogs, which guarded their sanctuary so well, were strangely absent from the scene. No one cared. They set up snipers on the roofs, covering all windows, watching all exits, even those which were not exits at all. More sirens could be heard in the distance, the employers had bought the help of the entire police force in the area. The man was considered dangerous, they were all paid well. Most wouldn’t see combat, or so they thought. Most didn’t even prepare their weapons. Everyone thought because of the sheer force of police, the man would just give up. There was no way he could come out of the warehouse alive, much less in one piece.
“Green three, I want you watching the roof closely. Lets show this piece of crap what we’re made of!” The man took his finger off his radio, staring down at the quarantined area. He stood on the roof across the street, a building dedicated to apartments much to expensive to live in. He was in his late fifties, long grey hairs pulled back in a pony tail. His eyes, a deep set of green, their gaze trying to peer through the concrete that blocked his view of seeing the target. The police chief, Arnold Craft, looked at his small army and brought the radio to his mouth again. “Blue four and yellow six, you will be the first ones to go in, get ready. Black zero, confirm your status.”
“In position, sir.” A voice crackled back, male, much younger than the chief. “Affirmative.” His eyes searched around and a frown bent his face downward. “Red one, respond.”
“Behind you.” The voice was female, young, but not too young. The chief jumped and turned to see the leader of the Red unit, an agent hired from the employers themselves. It was obvious she was female, despite her face being hidden. She wore a black t-shirt, a black vest unzipped over it. Cargo pants, black, coupled with combat boots and fingerless gloves. Her head was covered by a helmet, back, glossy. It was round, covered her entire head. In front of her face, was a black faceplate, the smooth surface giving away nothing of the woman underneath. She didn’t care what the chief or anyone though about it, she had never cared for humanity. What was stranger still about the woman was the large cache box strapped to her back, slung over he shoulder. Inside it was her prized possession, the M107 semi-automatic long range sniper rifle. The gun was her pride an joy, able to shoot long range, along with high energy and availability of highly effective ammunition, it made for one devastating weapon. Known by the military as SASR or “Special Applications Scoped Rifle”, its primarily use was an anti- materiel weapon, which had the ability to rip through cabins, trucks, aircraft, and so on. A perfect weapon top hunt a monster.
“Jesus, you scared me. Why aren’t you at your post?” The man put his radio away and turned back to the warehouse, scanning the dark windows once more.
“Im just waiting. He will come to me. He knows Im here. Just make sure you’re people don’t get in my way.” The stranger, with the metallic voice, turned and walked away, apparently unhindered by the big gun on her small frame. Arnold looked over his shoulder at her and cursed silently. He hated hired hands. His radio crackled and he took it off, as the rest of his team came up and took positions on the edge.
“We’re ready when you are, sir”
He stood for a couple seconds, a brief hesitation slipping through his mind. He didn’t know what they were hunting, just that it was extremely dangerous. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to visit the families of his future dead.
His hope was going to fail on him. “Take him.” A simple command, spoke with a calm, non shaky voice. His entire army tightened up, becoming alert, as the two teams moved in..
[[PRESENT TIME]]
The bar was small, local, dead. It was midnight, close to closing time. A man in a grey raincoat, wearing gold rimmed glasses, sat at a small table in the corner, the shadows obstructing his face. His eyes couldn’t be seen, but they were staring intently at another man who sat at the bar counter. That man had been there for a few hours, but something about him had struck a cord with the man in the gold rimmed glasses. He knew him. He was too follow him. And soon he would make the call that would end the man at the counters life.
The wolf could see the man but the man in the wolf would not pay attention. His mind was on his drink, or drinks. Too many had he had so far, too many were yet to be drank. He was depressed and he was trying to make it disappear. The pain, the sadness, the past, he hated it.
(Ryan-)
Not now…
(But you have-)
Not Now
(Listen to me-)
NOT NOW!
The wolf went quiet, leaving his friend to his drink. He gave out a small sigh before finishing off his whiskey, slamming the glass down with another sigh.
“Barkeep! Another one of these!”
“Son, we’re shutting down in an hour and you’re drunk enough I think.”
“Hey! Who’s paying you, huh? Another drink!”
“You sure aren’t! You just walked in here and wanted a drink. That was over two hours ago and you have not paid for one of them yet. Im beginning to think you aren’t good for a tab.” The man went back to polishing his glasses. Ryan gave him a sour look and then lowered his head, yawning.
“You’re right, maybe its time I stopped for the night..”
We’re being tailed.
(I was trying to tell you that!)
….Sue me later. Lets get outta here
“Im gonna take a leak real quick.”, Ryan muttered as he slid off the stool. For a moment his legs wanted to give away and he had to grip the counter, but soon the moment passed he began his shuffle for the bathroom. His eyes never looked up from the ground, though he was very much aware of the gold rimmed glasses staring at him, following his pathetic attempt at graceful moves. As Ryan walked into the bathroom, the man in the coat got up and went to the bar to pay his tab. He slipped a couple hundred extra dollars into the bill, sealing the bartenders mouth of what had or was going to happened tonight. Turning on his heel, he went for the bathroom and pushed the door open casually, slipping inside.
He ran quickly back out, looking flustered. He didn’t bother answer the bartenders weird look, instead whipping out a cell phone and quickly pushing speed dial.
“He’s gone!” A window in the bathroom, it had been ripped out.
--
Ryan smiled to himself as he strolled down the sidewalk, slipping into the park. The weather was cool, so he was happy he had worn his black long shorts and black t-shirt. The vest he always wore, unzipped and pulled open, was slung over his shoulder, held by his hand. He was in a good mood, amplified by his drunkenness. Unfortunately, drinks wore off quickly for him, which he hated immensely. Still, he walked down the paved path, slipping further and further into the darkened park.
An animals dream world. Trees, long grass, ponds, and vast spaces of field, he loved it. Or more rather the wolf loved it. He handled himself properly as he walked across a bridge, crossing over a rather huge pond. Stopping, he leaned forward on the railing, looking down at the reflection of the moon on the smooth, uninterrupted, water surface.
A half moon. Soon we’ll have to find a place to hide.
(Indeed, but they’re getting easier to control. I wouldn’t recommend staying out in the freedom this time, but maybe next time?)
Perhaps, I don’t trust us that well yet. Im scared.
(Have faith, child.)
You say it as if you have it. You don’t even know God.
(We are our own gods, there is no god.)
Whatever you say. I don’t care either way.
He let out a huge sigh and leaned more, letting the wind play with his brown hair. He still needed to find a place to sleep tonight. They had grown suspicious in the subway. He was beginning to stink as well. I need a bath, a warm bed, and some fresh food, that’s what I need. |
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The strong ones are always licking their lips and sharpening their teeth. They take down the prey right in front of them....And the stronger you are, that is, the longer your fangs are...The less likely you are to see that the cage walls are closing in on you.. |
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| Dante |
| Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:27 am |
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That Handome Devil
Joined: 12 May 2008
Posts: 1480
Location: Anywhere the job takes me
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And hereeee weee.... go.
"You know, for a cunning warrior of the animal kingdom, you aren't that hard to track down." Dante stepped as if he had come out of the shadows, staring down at the bridge as his boots came to a stop some feet past the man. Ivory was out, he was tapping it on his right shoulder, as his eyes looked up into the sky. "You should really work on that, wolf boy." |
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| Ryan Holder |
| Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:31 am |
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Creeper
Joined: 04 Jan 2009
Posts: 16
Location: Subject Not Found
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The man jumped and spun around, his eyes automatically drawn to the man in red. Yes, it puzzled him that he had come out of nowhere without being picked up by their nose. Yes, it startled him to see that the man was armed. But what got him the most was the mention of 'wolf boy'. A name a guard had used once back at the facility. It hadnt ended well for him.
"Wolf- Who the hell are you?" He glared at the man, his hands clenching the railing. Some people just knew how to turn a good night into a bad one. "Look, I-I dont know what you're talking about. Im not hiding from anybody and Im not no... wolf boy either." |
_________________
The strong ones are always licking their lips and sharpening their teeth. They take down the prey right in front of them....And the stronger you are, that is, the longer your fangs are...The less likely you are to see that the cage walls are closing in on you.. |
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| Dante |
| Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:33 am |
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That Handome Devil
Joined: 12 May 2008
Posts: 1480
Location: Anywhere the job takes me
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| "Hmph." The devil smirked as he looked over his shoulder before turning fully to look at him. "Yeah, right. You are a poor liar, boy. Didn't your mommy ever tell you not to lie to your elders?" Ivory came down off his shoulder and he spun the big gun in his hand, stopping it to spin backwards. "Look, lets rap this up, ok? I got a date tonight, I hate missing appointments." |
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| Ryan Holder |
| Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:40 am |
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Creeper
Joined: 04 Jan 2009
Posts: 16
Location: Subject Not Found
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"Look, I dont know what you're talking about." His hands tested the firmness of the wood. It felt dry, strong, sturdy. He could use it if he needed to. Looked like he might have to. "You got the wrong guy. Im just strolling in the park, taking in the scenery, ya know?"
And if you dont believe that, then go screw yourself. Was he an agent? Was he the enemy? Had to be, he was blantantly displaying a weapon and talking as if he knew him. Nobody knew him in this town.
They've caught up to me already?
(No. This man must be a free agent, one they recruited by phone or other devices. Theres no way he works for them physically.)
How do you know?
(Look at how he is dressed. Everyone back at the organization were dressed professionally, save for a few. Not too mention, we've put alot of miles between us. Dont you remember?)
.... I do now. What do we do with him?
(We must run. The sword... I dont like it.)
And what about the gun?
(We'll take our chances.)
Ryan tensed, ready if needed. |
_________________
The strong ones are always licking their lips and sharpening their teeth. They take down the prey right in front of them....And the stronger you are, that is, the longer your fangs are...The less likely you are to see that the cage walls are closing in on you.. |
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| Dante |
| Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:43 am |
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That Handome Devil
Joined: 12 May 2008
Posts: 1480
Location: Anywhere the job takes me
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| "I hate a guy who doesn't know when to quit. It just causes more trouble for ya in the long run, ya know?" The gun went back to his shoulder, his other hand scratched his chin. "I don't know what they see in ya, kid, but a job's a job." Ivory came back down and settled on the mans head. "Now then, you're coming with me." |
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| Ryan Holder |
| Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:47 am |
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Creeper
Joined: 04 Jan 2009
Posts: 16
Location: Subject Not Found
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| "I dont think so." His hands gripped the railing. Concentrating, his hands began to change, growing larger, more lean, clawlike. The splitting of wood, coupled with the groan of the bridge, made Ryan shut his eyes and what followed didnt need to be seen. It had been felt. The chunk of the wood split free of its holdings and Ryan swung it fast, hard, hitting the man in red in the side of the face. Holding back at the last minute, he still made him fly which gave Ryan enough time to dart the opposite way, taking off across the park. he had left his wood behind, he just focused on running now. |
_________________
The strong ones are always licking their lips and sharpening their teeth. They take down the prey right in front of them....And the stronger you are, that is, the longer your fangs are...The less likely you are to see that the cage walls are closing in on you.. |
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| Dante |
| Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:58 am |
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That Handome Devil
Joined: 12 May 2008
Posts: 1480
Location: Anywhere the job takes me
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He surprisingly hadn't seen it coming. Of course he wasn't paying attention much, his mind on his date. Dante spun on his heel and shot one shot, grazing the mans arm as he ran. He hadn't wanted to kill him, nor did he want to capture him so fast. He loved a good chase.
Shaking his head, he checked his chin before cracking his neck. "Alright, you wanna be like that then. Lets play." Dante's grin appeared as he started to give chase. |
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