OFF THE RECORD: This is the very first post of the game. From here and on, everything will be posted here.
Before starting:
· Let us use this precious moments to introduce themselves to other team members. There aren't turns right now. So feel free to kill some time, and we all see other's posting style.
· Don't be shy in your actions. Do what you please (but within context).
· People can still join, so let's try to be vague when numbering the people on-board. Someone can post even if they haven't said a thing.
· Don't worry if you reply to someone but didn't see that a different person had already replied to him or he was talking to you. Double-posts here are acceptable. Also, try using quotations whenever possible, so that the person is notified.
· Do NOT edit messages. Please. That would only cause confusion.
· Have fun!
___________________________ _______________________________ ___________________________
ETA in two hours. - Said the pilot through the general comm.
Somewhere over the North Atlantic Ocean, a helicopter (Well, it looks like a helicopter from the distance) was flying. Destiny unclear, except for those who were boarding it.
The pilot had taken all kind of measures in order that they weren't uncovered by radars. Not like there was any kind of problem for flying in open sky - except for the ocassional thermal missile aimed at you -, but hey, one can never be too sure. Anyway, since all worlwide communications were closed, the need for flying equipment was rendered useless: traversing the globe is nowadays considered a capital crime, especially after the . No country wants foreigners, that's for sure.
And there were them, trying to go through some countries' border to put the finger on some goddamn bussiness that should only matter the local government.
- Christine's going to kill me. - muttered the pilot to himself. - I promised her we would go to the theater today...
___________________________ _______________________________ ___________________________
Not only the flying bird was different from your typical helicopter, it also didn't resemble any normal plane. It is somewhat big, coated in special, dense colours (that render the machine almost invisible to the naked eye), and a fortune had gone into its mechanical body: the thing hardly make a sound, yet it traveled big distances in a good time. Petrol consumption? Well, that's a different thing.
Over the big, cargo bay (what a lousy way to describe it), lied the War Room. The occupants were all siting down, listening to the debriefing of whatever they had come to do here.
One woman was standing up. She looked a bit angry, or maybe she was just distraught. She was pointing at the virtual map generated over the desk at the center of the room. Instructions were being given.
Lt. Tear
- Venezuela. - She spoke, while staring at every single one inside that room. - Some years ago, Venezuela was on the verge of losing control. Anarchy ran rampant through its streets. When South America choose to divide itself, and its regions started isolating, the Venezuela Government asked Colombia for help. They gave them soldiers and weapons, and with a fist of power, they crushed everything they consider a menace. Drug dealers, criminals, mafias, philosophers and teachers who wouldn't agree to this new country's term. Then, when it was Colombia's turn for help, Venezuela gave them the middle finger, letting the place sink and rot. They also contributed, in secret, to Colombia's downfall. After all, no matter how hard you try, you can never crush all cockroaches: so instead, they throwed Venezuela's trash into Colombia's land. Overwhelmed, Colombia's Government was dissolved, and nowadays it is just a sinner's den.
Tear scratched her hair.
- But I'm guessing you all already knew this. - After all, who didn't know about it?
Frank Valli
Conspicuously nervous, the rookie was looking right and left, watching the eccentric team T.E.C.H. had assembled. He was prepared for a lot of things, but...there were the oddities. A living tree? Some dude with skinsuits fetish? A girl with psycopathic problems? What the hell was this?
He couldn't avoid feeling itchy. He had never fired a gun before. Despite the training, he still felt like a common citizen than the average comic heroe; something the rest of the team could be mistaken for.
- Wh...
He started, but his voice broke. He suspired, and tried again.
- What's our objective here, Litenaunt Tear?
"What kind of name is Tear?" He muttered to himself.
Lt. Tear
The litenaunt stared at the rookie. Newbies annoyed her; they tend to be more of a liability than a helpful tool. This one in particular looked the least promising rookie in the world.
"Cannon folder" - she thought.
- It is no secret that we're going to Venezuela. - She pointed at her ear. - We all heard that the estimated time of arrival is in two hours. Until then, I'd rather you guys kill some time. I know this is a first-time for some of you, but please try to not get in the way when T.E.C.H. is doing its job.
She scratched her hair, again.
- Our intelligence has detected alien lifeforms in Caracas. Our job is to infiltrate Venezuela and dispose of these aliens. We currently don't know the number or raw force they dispose; remember, these monsters can take human form and they're actually intelligent, unlike what Hollywood movies could tell you. When we're off the ship, I'll gave all of you further instructions.
She could notice the fear in the rookie's face. First-timer, huh.
