RPG Loaded: Debugged

[liamc2]

I'm back, didja miss me?

[size=1]
The carts trundled through the forest, bouncing gently over the dirt paths and tracks. The air had a damp, cool feeling to it. Despite the warmth of his suit and clothes, Jonathan gave an involuntary shiver. Something was up; he could feel it boding, promising a snag to the mission.

Jonathan stood on his seat and took a look around.

Then all hell broke loose.

[I]?Jonathan,?[/I] it was Ken?s voice, [I]?the infrared sensors are picking up some unexplained heat sources in the woods ahead-[/I]

Jonathan fell backwards into the cart as an arrow hit his suit?s titanium chest plate. If the arrow had not been caught in his Irish garb, it would have ricocheted upwards and through his throat.

Nina looked down at him, worried. Jonathan winked and relaxed, taking on the expression and form of one who had been pierced through the heart by a rather crude arrow.

There was laughter coming from the forest where the arrow had come, deep booming laughter, that generally meant big?There were footsteps and the sounds off swords being sheathed but arrows being notched into bows.

?Hello pretty lady, care to make a veteran soldier a happy man??

Through his frozen, unfocused eyes, Jonathan could make out a rather ugly and rather tall soldier, Irish and a deserter to boot by the looks of it.

?Only if the soldier would like to make the lady very happy and remove this useless man of a guard from my cart.?
That was Leona?s voice, Jonathan resisted the urge to smile. It was scary how well his sister knew him?it was as though she could read his mind?

The soldier gave a mock bow, climbed up into the cart and grabbed Jonathan?s shirt before grunting,

?A?slightly?heavy useless guard?? muttered the soldier.

The soldier righted his grip and dragged Jonathan off the back of the cart, letting him fall about a metre into the mud. Leona winced as her ?deceased? brother was dragged through the mud and over the rocks to where the other deserters were standing.

The lead soldier released Jonathan and muttered, ?strip him of his belongings and gold. After ye?ve done that we?ll all take a wench for our selves. Our beds?ll be warm tonight boys!?

The leader turned and left, leaving the remaining three soldiers to eye the body before them. Jonathan waited until the bows were put away before ripping his sword fully out of it?s sheathe.

There was a slight pause as the three soldiers worked out what was going on.

?Hey up, you?re supposed to be dead, like.?

?Doesn?t suit me,? muttered Jonathan from his horizontal position on the ground.

Jonathan ascended to his full height and lifted the sword up. He eyed the men around him, they were slightly stunned as well as at a disadvantage. Because of their close ranks, their was no way they?d be able to unsheathe their swords without impaling one another. While they were taking a few steps back, Jonathan brought his long sword around in an impressive downward spiral, effectively beheading one, puncturing another?s lungs and gutting the third.

The three deserters collapsed, the latter of the two making gurgling sounds as they choked on their own blood. The leader turned to face the noise, and grimaced when he saw Jonathan, sword and body spattered in blood, standing above his men who were writhing in the mud.

Jonathan beckoned.

The leader unsheathed his sword and charged, furious.

Jonathan ducked his first swing and impaled the man on his long sword, ignoring the sickening singing sound his sword made as it grated against bone and exploded out the other side. The man spat in Jonathan?s eye, adding another blood stain to Jonathan?s face.

?I?ll still have time to kill you again, and all the pretty maids in the wagon, before your wound will have time to kill me.?
The head deserter?s eyes flashed, and Jonathan had no doubt he was telling the truth for the rift had control over the deluded soldier. He could see it in his eyes.

Jonathan stood side on to the man and stamped hard on his foot, the soldier choked out a pathetic laugh, blood dribbling down out of his nose and mouth.

?A?pathetic?attempt,? he burbled.

Jonathan smiled and grunted before ripping his sword, not out, but up. Parallel to the spine. The sword bit through flesh and bone, through no small effort on Jonathan?s behalf, before swinging a full one hundred and eighty degrees and biting into the blood-stained mud.

Blood and bile fled the torn man and he staggered backwards, collapsing into the mud.

Jonathan, breathing heavily, wiped his sword clean on his breeches before sheathing it and climbing back onto the front of the cart.

?Ken,? he muttered into his mic, ?find the other deserters in the woods. If they?ve been infected by the rift, kill them. Otherwise bring ?em back and find out why they deserted. Keep on guard, there will be more, you can count on it.? Jonathan coughed, the cocktail of injections and adrenaline were making him feel queasy, ?Quin, take my place on watch down here, I need to lie down.?

Quin floated down through the forest canopy just as Jonathan collapsed into the back of the cart, looking more dead than tired, the blood stains dried looking like wounds, though there were none.

The two carts trundled on and past the four corpses. A slight muttering of conversation and almost conspiratorial whispers fell on Jonathan?s deaf ears as he drifted off.
[/size]

[The Harlequin]

[color=indigo][font=gothic][I]Quin gave the corpses a professional survey, recreating the combat in his mind. Quite well done, if a little indirect. Quin had no problem with indirect, but simply evicerating them would have been easier. His opinion normally didn't manifest very well though...Mainly because he never gave it.

The carts motion was monotonously annoying, but Quin put up with it simply on the grounds that it was probably annoying to everyone else as well, and annoyed people talked less. The woods around him were nearly as bad, their strangely unknowable depths absorbing sound like a sponge absorbed water. Quin could almost feel the quiet conversation around him bleed away into oblivion. Perhaps he'd end up living in a place like this...all things considered. Except the propensity for rifts. That could pose something of a problem.

It occured to Quin at that point that planning to live here was more than slightly futile....[/font][/color][/I]

[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson]The invisible HUD over his eyes continued to display the various heat signatures inside the thick, untouched forest. Grunting to himself, he fell down from the sky next to one of them, sword flipping out to the person's neck.

[b]Deserter[/b]: W-

A clean punch to the stomach knocked the wind out of the young man, and he fell to the ground grasping at his stomach. Pain shot out through out his neck suddenly, and it was lights out. A defender landed next to him, nodding to Ken. A quick nod back, and he carefully began makeing his way through the forest carefully, the untainted man being taken to the carts quickly.

[b]Ken[/b]: [i]If I knew what the rift would cause in these guys, I wouldnt be so nervous.[/i]

Dodgeing the treebranches, he crotched down and peered through a bush straight to where his next deserter was supposed to be. Jumping out from his position, his defender parried his strike upwards- the suprise was on Ken.

The clear, loud sound of the swords clanging together rang throughout the immediate area- the several heat sources quickly closeing in on their position. He looked back to his opponent- a strong, heavyset man, and stared silently for a few moments. The sword he was using was clearly not something anyone from this era could craft, supremely ordained and as sharp as Ken's "perfect" sword.

It had to be some sort of minor error from the rift.

Ken raised his arm and slammed it into the man's face, breaking his nose with ease. With a sound kick to the stomach, the combonation strike sent the man into a tree. The last thing he saw was the thin, glinting edge going between his eyes. The tree shook, several leaves falling off while Ken removed his sword- the man's body slid down to the ground and landed with a soft thump.

[b]Ken[/b]: ... This is definately an infected person.

The blood that poured out of the man was tainted with a green hue, a sign of the rift at work- fortunately, this man had not been infected for too long. And, of course [i]unfortunately[/i], the rift's true effect hadnt totally blossomed- Ken was still clueless as to what the others might have wrong with them. His only real knowledge was that they had strange weapons- that didnt help..

But still, he had some time- time enough to alert Jonathan.

Ken spoke into his microphone quickly as the other signatures closed in- "First encounter of suspected infection, killed before it spread throughout his system- rift's effects still unknown but watch out for.. 'odd' weapons. An-.. Nevermind. No time. Defender above me, I might need some assistance, somethings wrong- they're moving too fast."

Ken reached down and grabbed a small dagger the man had sheathed on his leg, and stepped backwards to put himself into a defense stance but they were already on him. Breathing deep, the swords began to clash, ringing louder and truer..[/color]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]Trance answered his call, and slid down to his level. As he fought, she took out her kit and began to examine the infected specimien...as she called it. She took a blood sample, a skin sample....and did a few other minute things. Then she packed everything away and stood. She drew her blade and watched Ken fight. They backed up slowly....moving in a typical fencing style.

She simply held her sword out and he made the deffender back right into it.[/i]

Ken: ......hello. Good timing.

Trance: ...we need to take him to the lab. I would like to run a few tests.

Ken: Always thinking about the job?

Trance: Once more Ken...it's about the MONEY. And....his blood is very interesting looking.

Ken: ....can you figure out what his problem was?

Trance: Sure. I'm not a doctor for nothing.[/COLOR]

[liamc2]

[size=1][b]What lab? What job? Aren't we completely cut off in Loadspace? Why aren't you back on the cart with the others? Hell, this is [i]my[/i] RPG and even I'm confused[/b][/size]

[size=1]
Jonathan?s eyes flickered open as Ken?s message came through on the narrowband, closed to his frequency only. He sat up as though on hinges and rose steadily to his feet on the moving cart. Quin had turned around at the small noise behind him. Jonathan looked deep into his eyes and half expected to see the demons waving back, but there was nothing.

Jonathan rolled his neck before ordering, ?keep on this path, Ken has come across?a snag. I?m going ahead to lend a hand?and where the hell is [I]Trance?[/I]?

Blank stares gazed back.

Jonathan waited patiently while they all seemed to snap out of a dazed trance. Seeing, what your mind gradually labelled as, a bloodstained corpse suddenly rise up with no apparent warning did that, especially when that mind has been lulled into a stupor by monotonous movement. Jonathan shook his head and brushed the textbook thoughts aside.

?She left the cart?sir?? It was Kathy, and she seemed to use the word sir as though she?d just thought it was appropriate?

?Why? Did I not give implicit instructions??

?She?well, disregarded them sir.?

Jonathan grunted. This was what he was worried about. It?d be one thing if she?d ignored his instructions, but totally disregarding the Load Project instructions was tantamount to treason. Angrily, he jabbed the button and leapt off the front of the cart. The invisible pack took him mid-air.

Leona punched Kathy lightly on the arm and laughed, ?look, he?s my brother, believe you me, he doesn?t need to be referred to as ?sir,? just ?Jonathan? will do fine.? Leona laughed and let Kathy?s face resume its normal colour.

[center]~~~~~~[/center]

Jonathan killed the engines over the clearing and fell to the forest floor beside Tony, Ken and Trance. He rose steadily from his crouched position and watched Trance through slitted eyes. There was a time and a place for chastisement, and now was not one of them.

His point was furthered by the sensation of something hitting the back of his Load armour. Something heavy, well crafted by the force it generated?and the sound of a windlass meant it was a crossbow. So they were right, it was the medieval server that was leaking.

Jonathan spun round and noted the corpse of the rift infected deserter. His blood and bile had a green hue, but those sores were unmistakably due to the bubonic plague. An odd anomaly, the Load philosophers would undoubtedly be able to explain it off as the effects of the human imagination of the plague creating interference when the shuttle hit Loadspace?

He coughed and unsheathed his sword, noting that Tony and Ken beside him with their swords ready, as the crossbow bearers stepped out into the light. There were seven, but only six were affected by the rift?you could tell by the eyes?always by the eyes?The immune Irishwoman was a prisoner, a terrified one at that. The six were? Formorians? [I]This early?[/I]

Jonathan spat in the dirt before muttering, ?This is were history is made. Trance, you are to stay back, I?m serious Trance, and are to care for the woman when we?ve retrieved her from their custody. It is important that we create a good impression for her here?she?s a servant and no doubt skilled at spreading rumours, in our favour if we do it right!?

As Jonathan flung himself forward into the impending fray there was a rush as Ken outstripped him easily, a war cry rumbling deep in his throat. Tony was, well, he was guarding their backs as far as he could tell and Trance was positively livid with quiet anger.

The Formorians were at a loss. Crossbows in this time period were definitely an advantage from a distance, but at close quarters they were nothing but useless lumps of wood against men prepared to deal death. They growled in their inhuman language (just like the history books, Jonathan noted) and readied themselves.

Though not much could ready them for Ken?s sword as it cut a swathe through the first two, leaving Jonathan looking rather foolish as he decimated the rest. There was a growl of pain, followed by a long piercing moan. The maid had kicked her distracted captor, who was avidly enjoying every second of Ken?s work, and then kicked him ?in the knackers? before making a run for it.

The moaning warrior raised his crossbow to give the fleeing woman a fatal complaint between the shoulder blades. Time slowed as the crossbow lifted. Jonathan sprinted, desperately trying to get his armour in front of the bolt?but he was going too slow, the Formorian?s trigger finger was already too far gone?

There was a flash of blue sparks that erupted over the beast?s face, biting into his flesh. The Formorian froze?and exploded into a shower of distorted air.

Tony lowered his pistol and morphed it back into a sword. He smiled at Jonathan and gave the thumbs up while sheathing it. Ken followed suit and Jonathan just tried to get the smell of ozone out of his head.

?It?it was horrible, they took me from milord?s coach, killed him outright?and the footmen?they must?ve been scouts or somethin? and they were all about to?to?? The maid shuddered, ?but then you came and distracted them just before?? Her voice trailed off and Jonathan just realised that the shoulder of her dress had been torn.

Trance, steadying her, followed Jonathan?s meaningful gaze and gave the poor girl her own shawl.

The maid drew a shuddering breath, and as though noticing Ken for the first time, muttered in awe, ?you?re not from these parts are you??
Jonathan shook his head, ?we are from the Tuatha De Danann tribe, from far across the water. We?ve come at the request of your leaders.?

Ok, so it was a white lie. They weren?t requested, but her leaders did want to meet them and hear their message. Plus they?d be interested in their ?magic,? especially after Tony?s display, however impromptu.

The maid nodded rapidly, believing every word that came out of his mouth. Out of the corner of his mouth Jonathan muttered to Tony and Ken, ?take her to the road. The others will be there soon. Put her and Trance in Quin?s cart. I?ll be along shortly. There?s something I need to do when she?s out of earshot?? Jonathan showed Ken the platinum egg he held and instant recognition dawned in his eyes.

?Right then. No more flying scouts then??

?No?we?re all on foot from now on. Well, the male Danann warriors that is??

Jonathan watched them leave the clearing, playing with the egg in his hand, when he was satisfied; he dragged the fallen Formorians into a heap, along with their weapons. He then took a few steps back, squeezed the egg and tossed it into the pile.

A vortex of white exploded and imploded where the Formorians were. Jonathan cursed and rubbed his eyes. He always forgot to shield his eyes when he used these stupid things. While his eyes watered, the vortex vanished, leaving nothing but green grass behind.

Jonathan dried his eyes. The Formorian warriors were part of a serious rift breach. The deserter was only a minor break, the rift was only just evident. All he had to do was sever its connection. But the Formorian?s were not only infected by the rogue code, they were the rogue code. Just killing them wasn?t enough. Sure, it bought time, much like assembling a makeshift firewall, but it still left an entry point. And makeshift firewalls don?t last forever.

That?s when the little eggs came in, the R23?s. When the makeshift firewall was up, or when the infected beings were deceased as it were, the R23?s sealed the hole in the server programming faster than liquid Titanium. The pistols were the same, but they could only take out one of the buggers at a time, and they overheated with extended use. Even plasma circuitry and charging had its limits.

Jonathan left the clearing and made his way through the overgrowth and back to the road, whistling as he went.
[/size]

[Sere Tuscumbia]

[SIZE=1]Haha, I post.

*/-/*

"Hey!" Nina shouted to an arriving Jonathon, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify the sound. "Why don't [B]we[/B] get to go too?! I want off this stupid cart already!"

The expression on Jonathon's face as he pulled himself back up into the cart to plunk down next to Nina spoke volumes.

Volumes, as in, 'I know you're just joking, but I'd still like to maim you for that.'.

"You're icky," she teased, scooting away, but scooted right back when the random techie next to her made a face and poked her shoulder. "But, okay, no, seriously: who's the new chick?" Nina moved to nudge Jonathon, then looked at him and pulled her arm back.

Jonathon looked over his shoulder at the trembling girl, Trance sitting next to her (her arm stiff around the girl's shoulders) with back rod-straight, clearly livid. "Just some girl that we rescued from Formorians," he muttered quietly.

Nina whistled, and leaned in closer to Jonathon. "Formorians? Already? You've got to be [B]kidding[/B] me. It's . . . it's just . . . "

"Not a thing you would have thought of?"

"Yeah, exactly."

*/-/*

Yeah, postie cut short because of time, and I only posted because Liam woulda killed me, and then Kath would have raised me from the dead and killed me again. Heheh. ^^;;

--Sere (It's nice to be back.)[/SIZE]

[liamc2]

[size=1]
The carts left the wood without further incident. Gradually the heavy scent of pine needles and decomposing undergrowth was replaced with an airy smell of wildflowers and long grass. The bumpy track connected with a much more level highway.

They passed houses, dirt floor cottages of the ?lower class,? but they were all empty. The Irish leaders must have ordered his people to fall back to the main capital, in the name of protecting the innocent or something like that. What it also did was provide the upper class with a whole new line of peasant farmer defence.

The druid?s cart, in front, climbed to the top of a hill and stopped. The sound of conversation drifted back. Jonathan leapt off the cart and jogged up to the top of the hill. In the glint of the sun he could make out armour, highly polished but dented armour.

Jonathan looked up into the eyes of a saddled cavalry patrol captain. The captain looked down and sized him up.

?By the order of the clan leaders, all able warriors and mercenaries are to be already at the capital,? said the captain while eying Jonathan?s sword, ?those who are not at the capital are deserters and therefore are to be executed to make an example to the others.?

By now Ken, Tony and Quin were beside Jonathan, hands on their swords.

?Ah,? said Jonathan amiably, ?we are not of this land. We are of the Tuatha De Danann from across the seas. We have a proposition for your leaders.?

The captain drew his sword and placed it against Jonathan?s throat, ?the Danann are legend, sir, and to my knowledge, extinct. As will you be for lying to a superior officer, deserter.?

?Wait!?

There was the sound of hurried footsteps behind them, Leona and her ?handmaidens? (who were doing their very best to look the job) stood in front of the Captain and his guards.

The maid they had liberated exclaimed, ?they are who they said they were! I saw their magic! They rescued me from the Formorians, and deserve your respect Samuel. Or do I have to tell your mam??

There was a snigger from behind the rapidly turning red Captain. He sheathed his sword in an embarrassed sort of way.

?Fine, just don?t tell me mam,? he mumbled sulkily. ?Is there anything I can do so you don?t??

?You can give my entourage a royal guard to your clan leaders,? Leona demanded.

There was a stunned pause.

?Uh- Her majesty, Princess Leona of the Tuatha De Danann, and her handmaidens?? stumbled Jonathan.
[/size]

[Lady Asphyxia]

[size=1][b]Seeing as Nina hasn't yet been defined with a proper appearance, I'm making one now. Any complaints, PM me, and I'll change it.[/b]

There was a short pause, then Kathy slipped forward to the woman the men had rescued.

"I apologise, mistress." She stated quietly, knowing the title of 'Mistress' would immediately wipe out any offence Jonathan's bumbling introduction had made -- accident or not. "The men -- they are trained for the art of war, not the politeness and manners that we all know are essential when one is visiting a foreign country."

Kathy had made her voice soft and polite -- exactly the way most men believed a woman should speak. The fact that she was basically insulting them had seemed to slip their minds.

"This is Her Highness, Princess Leona of the Tuatha De Danann. I am Lady Kathlyn, and these are the Ladies Trance and Nina. We have been chosen from among many to be esteemed handmaidens to our fair princess, and our relation to the throne is often not forgotten." Her words were careful and precise. Slightly intimidating to some, but still friendly. The woman would later pass on how fair and equal they had been to those below their station, which was exactly what they wanted.

"These are our guards." Her tone indicated that -- while important -- the women were the reason for this journey.

She chose that moment to drift to the background, preferring not to try to explain the Druids. She was almost lost for words as it was. Speaking as such often became habit after a mission, and she preferred to kick the habit at its cause.

Leona spoke again, this time adjusting her tone to be that of a 'Lady'. Everyone knew that Ladies were polite, demure, dignified, and didn't use the coarse sounds and words of the 'lower class'.

"We'd be honoured if you would accompany us with your guard, so that we would feel fully safe in this strange new land." Her voice had just the right quiver in it to make the men jump to obey her every whim.

The men could, of course, tell that the rest of the women were just as Lady-like. Nina, with her hair that couldn't decide whether is was brown, red, and sometimes even blonde, and her pixie face and dancing eyes seemed to be something out of a storybook. Although, Tinkerbell hadn't been invented yet, had she?

Trance was a dark-eyed beauty with red-brown hair and a body so well kept that most men probably hadn't seen the like of it.

Of course, the rules of decorum wouldn't show those curves, now would they?

Kathy smirked and left them to it. People were by far too easy to manipulate, especially those not hardened and cynical. And that was what this game was about -- manipulation.
[/size]

[liamc2]

Saved from the second page

[size=1]
There was a clatter as the metal rim of the wagon wheels hit the chaotically laid stone pavers of the capital. Other than that it wasn?t that different from the villages they had passed through. Same houses, same rotting garbage smell?but there were people, hundreds of thousands of people. They were everywhere deemed possible, children ran underfoot, ducking and weaving between the carts and horses while their mothers chattered on the sidewalks, completely oblivious to their antics.

Not much attention was paid to the two wagons. Plenty of people came in every day to seek refuge from the Formorian raiding parties, including druids, strangely dressed females and their mercenaries. But the cavalry guards got waves and respect from the crowd, so they had family and friends out there. Good, as long as there was mutual respect they would stay together to defend themselves?

The carts continued along, eventually breaking free of the sights and sounds of the ramshackle bazaar and reaching the base of a hill in the centre of the city. The captain and his guards dismounted from their horses and made their way to Leona and her handmaidens.

Jonathan resisted the urge to deck the captain as he took Leona?s hand and helped her from the cart. Each of his men did the same with the rest of the maidens until Jonathan, Tony, Ken and Quin were the only ones left.

?Your [I]mercenaries[/I] can stay and guard the horses, can they not?? Smirked the captain, a little louder than Jonathan appreciated.

?They may.? Leona shot Jonathan a glance and tapped her earpiece. Jonathan nodded in return.

Ken placed a hand on Jonathan?s shoulder as the Captain shot Jonathan another smirk. It wasn?t necessary, but the thought was there.

?Just wait till he finds out you?re her brother Jonathan.? That was Nina?s voice over the COM channel. Jonathan smirked. That was true. There would be retribution paid.

?All right then.? Jonathan checked to see if they were alone and then spun to face the remainder of the defenders and the techies. ?We need to find the manual server of Ireland, Zaeon, check that cauldron of yours and do a full scan of this area.?
[/size]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Quin glanced at Jonathan. Not having a lot of experience in that area, and more to the point not having a lot of inclination or interest, he simply turned away and surveyed the surrounding area, his blade, a three foot flamberge, spinning from its baldric to his hands and back, more an excersise designed to keep fingers limber rather than the result of any nervousness....or murderous psychopathicity.

Quin followed a simple philosophy: Sociopathic apathy. He'd kill you if he cared. Well, that established, he was certainly willing to sit there and wait. That captain might come back, after all.[/I]


OOC: You tell me to post, but you didn't leave me a lot to work with.[/font][/color]

[Guest cloricus]

I'm sorry guys, I'm still very interested in this RPG but I'm swapped with work. It's looking like this weekend will be the first chance I get to post and I'll be pushing for time to get it done then. Sorry for any inconvenience, just keep me alive until I get back in the loop. Thanks.

[liamc2]

Rightio. Just post already. lol

[size=1]
In the corner of his eye Jonathan could make out the flurry of movement as techies tried to remain inconspicuous while using conspicuous equipment. Zaeon was standing in front of the pack and was reading a scroll, but his eyes were giving him away. They were slightly unfocused and he had the glazed look of someone who had been reading their HUD for too long. Their eyes became strained from picking text out from the background it had been superimposed on.

Jonathan smiled. That was the type of dedication he needed. He returned his gaze to the tents up in the distance. According to infrared, there were a lot of people in the main tent, surrounding the girls. He could tell them apart from the pale blue nametags that obligingly appeared above them.

So far all was going well. They had been in there for over half an hour and they hadn?t needed any help yet. Jonathan wasn?t surprised. After all, a degree in Acute Diplomacy was one of the prerequisites before any of the Load training even [I]started[/I]. Even so, snags might occur and demand some outside influence that was unbiased to the conversation?

Jonathan switched the zoom and the infrared off and shot another glance around. The remaining defenders were slouching around and taking casual walks around the perimeter, the epitome of a bored group of mercenaries. If they were all too militaristic they?d be given away. Save the training for the combat and combat for the training, one of the millions of useless sayings his father had handed down to his sister and him.

However useless though, it needed to be said. Sometimes you just needed that little firm voice in the back of your head while the adrenaline was pumping and your own inner voice was howling for blood.

?We?ve got the location.? It was Zaeon, ?the server?s in the old burial mounds about two hundred clicks from here. To stop it from getting easily discovered, the Load project felt it necessary to be only accessible during a full moon, just to play on the-

-Irish?s eccentricity and affinity for superstition. I know. Good job.?

?Yeah,? voiced one of the techies, ?but it shouldn?t have taken that long to find it though. Normally we can just jump right on in and do a search for Ancient Ireland servers on your comput?er??

The outspoken turned a shade of red as he realised his blunder. It was easy to access the server from the outside, you had all the software and shortcuts operating separately from the Load. But once you were inside all the software and shortcuts vanished because they took way too much of the Load system?s resources.

[I]Still doesn?t make sense why they didn?t give us a map?[/I]

?Jonathan, Leona and Kathy won them over easily.? That was Nina?s voice, ?sorry we took so long but we had to do the polite lady thing and become social butterflies. We?ve found out quite a lot about these guys. Oh yeah, Leona wants all of you to come up.?

?What? But we?ve received no outside invitation!?

?So shoot me. Leona wants you to get up here before the messenger so you can say, ?My sister hath already inviteth me,? or something like that. You know these guys lap up those sort of mystical spiritual links between brother and sister.?

?Oh, so that means our captain friend knows we are related??

?Yup.?

?Marvellous. A pity I missed the expression on his face.?

?Yeah, it was a good one, you?ll be able to see it again when you step through the door. Quick already, she?s winding the conversation to the requesting for a messenger to be sent.?

?We?re leaving already.?

Jonathan waved everyone onto the wagons and climbed up in beside the driver. He was about to grab the horses but Quin and the others were in the process of tying their reigns to the back of the wagon. Jonathan was tempted to ride in on the Captain?s own horse, it was an impressive stallion, but it would have been a grievous insult and would have been tried by a council of elders without a social leg to stand on.

And he really didn?t want to experience the Blood Eagle for himself?
[/size]

[Sere Tuscumbia]

[size=1]Somewhere along this whole trip, Trance died. Or ran away. Or got abducted by rosin eating zombies from outer space. Or maybe just disappeared off of the face of the Earth, but either way it happened, Trance went away.

But no one really cared.

Anyway, onto ze posting.

*/-/*

Nina was trying her best to keep out of the way while Leona was finishing up her speech, but it wasn't easy. The Captain and his men, however military and disciplined they were trained to be, were still men, and Nina wasn't liking the looks she was getting from some of the soldiers.

"--And I'd like for a messenger to be sent for my brother and the rest of his men, if you would kindly oblige," Leona said, tilting her head slightly to look up at the Captain as innocently as possible.

"Anything for the Princess," the Captain replied -- sickly sweet, Nina thought -- bowing deeply, but keeping his eyes locked onto Leona at all times. "You! There!" he yelled to someone in the crowd. "Find Her Majesty's guards and guide them here at once!"

The man picked pushed his way out of the crowd, bowed, then turned tail and disappeared out the front flap of the tent.

After a few minutes of listening to small chatter throughout the crowd, Nina got uneasy. "Come on Jonathon," she muttered to herself, "we haven't got all day here. Well okay, we do, but that's not the point--"

"You underestimate me," Jonathon interrupted, chuckling into Nina's earpiece, and she jumped in surprise. "We're already here."

Nina turned her head to the entrance, and, as she expected, Jonathon stepped through the doorway, a smug look on his face as he faced the Captain. "I believe I'm needed here?"

The look on the Captain's face was priceless, but he quickly straightened it and look Jonathon in the eye. "So the messenger found you then? Where is he?"

"I need no messenger, Captain. My sister had already requested I arrive, and I came."

Nina had to cover her smile, unless she wanted to attract attention to herself. A simple handmaiden like her wouldn't want attention like that, she told herself.

"Did you see the messenger on your journey to the tent?" Nina heard the Captain ask as she tuned into the conversation again.

"No messenger, I'm afraid, sir. We saw no one but the townspeople in their homes, sir." Jonathon looked completely sincere, but Nina knew he was having quite a lot of fun.

"No matter, no matter," the Captain quickly said, waving his hand to hide his surprise and embarrassment. "I'm sure he just took a different route to find you, and you passed each other without noticing. He'll return later."

Jonathon bowed slightly. "Very well sir."

Nina's vision blurred for a moment, and she blinked to clear it, one hand going up to her forehead to steady herself.

That small movement attracted the Captain's attention, and he pointed at her. "Miss, are you related to the Her Majesty also?"

It took a second for Nina to realize that she had drifted to Jonathon's side, and was resting a hand on his upper arm to steady herself.

Jonathon looked down at her, blinked in surprise for a moment, then quickly wrapped an arm around Nina's waist. "No sir, she isn't. Although every handmaiden needs a personal escort," he said, looking pointedly at the Captain. "She's really quite flighty, I'm sorry to say, and she must not have realized what she was doing. You really must excuse her."

Nina blinked once, twice, and then what Jonathon said finally sunk in. "You are [B]so[/B] completely dead when we get out of here," she spoke over the comm.

"I know," Jonathon replied, but he grinned anyway.

*/-/*

Yeah, I didn't use le flowery talk and such, but hey, don't like it anyway. >>;;

And, yes, I'm going somewhere with this, but I pulled most of this out of the air when Liam told me to post. ^^;;;

--Sere[/size]

[Lady Asphyxia]

[size=1][b]I was told to.[/b]

They'd left their conversation on the public speaker -- everyone heard them. The group grinned slightly and Kathy waltzed over to the Commander, Jonathan and Nina. She had a degree in diplomacy and she was used to playing games. At the moment, Nina's pride needed to be saved, or the men would look down on her as a hussy -- even after Jonathan's pretty speech.

"Nina!" Kathy's sharp tone cut into their humour. "You know better than to consort with [i]him[/i]." She patted Nina on the shoulder and winked, then turned away before Nina reacted. "I once again must apologise for milady's people. M'lord is known to...well..." she paused and leaned in to confide in him. "Enjoy the ladies. They're incredibly susceptible to his charm." She knew perfectly well how the men would take this news -- in a man, it was a good thing. In a woman, it was terrible. "They simply cannot help themselves. And the company he keeps does not do much to this situation except worsen it. For instance, take his companions now. Aren't they a fine breed."

The women took their cues at this and proceeded to sigh with gusto. A smile flickered around Kathy's face.

"But nonetheless, I must try to stop these...knaves...from stealing our virtues. Don't you agree commander?"

Kathy stepped back once again, after whispering to Jonathan to behave, then sat down. She had the feeling the group were beginning to get sick of her pretty little speeches.[/size]

[liamc2]

[size=1]
Jonathan resisted his sudden urge to cough and choke on his own bile, and instead, smirked with all the sleaze he could muster. He continued the conversation until it was socially acceptable for him to leave. As he left he rubbed his arms and mouthed to Kathy and Nina, ?the dirt won?t come off!?

The cold night air was refreshing on his face as he stepped out of the smoke filled tent. Boisterous laughter echoed behind him with patches of song and snippets of gossip. Jonathan?s ears turned red when he heard his name mentioned once or twice and grimaced, squinting at an innocent horse. Feeling relieved, he stood upright and sighed.

[I]Its all a part of the experience?the façade isn?t you?the façade isn?t you?[/I]

A swift breeze rushed up the mound and raked across his face, chilling him to the bone. Winter was coming, with it, the war. The barbaric Formorians, knowing the frailties of the Irish in the winter, would lead a bloody assault right into camp, a strike at winter?s chilled heart. If the server wasn?t purged in time it would be a massacre?only the Load employees and Formorians would remain. Total disaster for the history line. The entirety population of Ireland would vanish, as would half of the population of America?history books, past and present, would be re-written in the twinkling of an eye. And the damage would be irreversible.

Jonathan shook his head. He had to stop thinking so pessimistically. His father always told him not to take the worst-case scenario as a given, it blinded you from all the possibilities of a victory. The dark and frosty air prompted him to return inside the warm and smoky folds of the giant tent.

In the amber gloom the tall form of Ken could be made out in the corner of the tent, as could Tony?s and Quin?s. No small satisfaction could be gained, however, from the fact that Leona?s ?handmaidens? were given a wide berth. Leona made her way across to him as casually as she could, alarm bells went off in Jonathan?s head, Leona?s eyes were sparking fire.

?[I]What the hell did you do?[/I]? she asked in a harsh whisper.

?What??

Leona looked around, ?every time I begin to talk to the clan leaders to find out some more information, they either make some odd excuse to leave, or start asking if my brother?s promiscuity [I]bothered my father![/I]?

Jonathan coughed. Talking to the clan leader?s sons was bad enough, but this was sheer agony. The uncomfortable feeling he had before intensified and he could feel his face turn beet-red. He heaved a sigh and recounted his awkward situation.

?Well. That explains why some of them ran off like that.? Mused Leona, ?they were probably terrified that you?d behead them or something.?

?[I]What?[/I]?

Leona giggled, ?think about it. If you were a young randy warrior and all these pretty young foreign girls just suddenly appeared, but you were given an implied threat from a hulking bloodstained [I]ogre[/I] through the mouth of one of these pretty girls, would [I]you[/I] hang around this ogre?s sister and tempt fate??

?I?uh?? Jonathan sighed and picked at one of the dried bloodstains. She was right?she was [I]always[/I] right.

Leona winked and laughed, ?mind you, the bit about you being as bad as one of those randy young Irishmen does make up for my frustrated attempts at conversation.?

Leona giggled as Jonathan?s red face intensified.

?I resent being called a hulking ogre.? He muttered sulkily.
[/size]

[Guest cloricus]

OOC: Muahaha. Well as I promised this was put on my list, and its turn to be read and then posted in has just come up! I've just finished catching up with the other sim I'm in; it was about 1,400 words so I'm guessing/hoping this one will be a shorter post...

IC:
Tony slowly got up and then walked briskly over to the johns, after a quick stop over he got up and slouched in the corner while taking off his backpack. Removing a small PDA and custom hud with handspring holder he booted it up and set all the connections right, after strapping on the handspring to his upper wrist and locking the PDA in he set it to morph into a rather small dirk. Not exactly sure of the time space he decided to leave the possibilities of what it could be changed to if he found out dirks hadn't been invented yet. He then continued to put on the extremely light hud, it to morphed. Its default for this time space was a crude eye patch, looking in the mirror this wasn't very appealing either. Leaving it for a moment Tony connected the hud to the pda via Inferred and then changed it to see through, it would add some weight on the processor time and slow it down a bit but an invisible hud was better than a dodgy looking eye patch...

After a few minutes of getting set up and loading all the basic programs he liked for the computer he got into his job, loading several remote access clients and some editing programs the area around him started to shimmer and through his hud changed into pure coding. One of his many not so hidden talents was being able to keep up with the speed that instructions and data ran through the load space. The shimmering slowly subsided and the fabric of the load space returned to normal.

An email appeared on his PDA, like always it was just time delayed and he was not able to access it before the mission started and in turn his mission. Wondering what it was this time he opened it hoping for some thing exciting, it turned out to be more unusual that exciting.
"Email - Sender (Unknown) - Time Stamp (None) - Msg Start ('Hacking grounds, extreme situations [i]ONLY[/i]' | Mission '[b]Do not let this expedition fail.[/b]') - Msg End"
Odd but acceptable.

Next Tony looked down at his weapon that John had given him, not liking its low tech approach at all he reset it to its default state and wedged it extremely firmly into his side arm holder so that it couldn't be seen by any load residence.

After a few more minutes of checking on all of his suits systems and his equipment he made sure his hud was invisible and that his PDA that was now impersonating a dirk was secure. Assured in a job well set up he left the toilets and grabbed a coffee` then continued back to his seat.

Shortly after finishing his coffee` Jonathan came in and started ordering every one off the ship which had landed moments earlier. Once out side Tony checked all of his equipment again without any one seeing him and was only slightly shocked to hear his name followed by an order. Muttering to himself he shot a ?Man you make this so damn fun? look at Jonathan before engaging his jet pack and being catapulted into the air where he proceeded to have some fun until a rather stocky man with the name tag "Ken" nearly knocked him out of the sky.
"What do you think this is? Bush week!? You'll be seen if you act that stupid." Ken shouted.
Tony quickly stopped and started to scan the area and just generally scout around.

[center] ~~~~Shortly later~~~~ [/center]
There was a confusing battle happening and Tony seemed to be on the ?just out side the action but close enough to be hit with a weapon? side of it. Not liking this he moved to a further distance only to have the battle follow him, annoyed he reached for his pistol just to check if it was still in pistol form just in case he needed it quickly he wanted it to be something better than a sword. Suddenly the battle stopped and a spray of blood striped it?s way across him as he watched the last of the guards go flying past into a near by tree. Taking a quick look around all the bad guys were down and the good guys where up, always a good thing.

From his flank a warrior that was down started to lift his crossbow and take aim, Tony looked at his hud quickly and stowed his thoughts while turning and reaching for his pistol which through hours of battle training found its aim and chewed through its target a milli-second after the trigger was pulled. Still swinging from the momentum Tony kept turning to see John dive, far too late, into where the arrows path would have gone. Then following on to see an incredibly shocked maid and Jonathan glaring at him in a ?you idiot, but good move? way which Tony quickly responded to by pressing the morph button on the pistol and giving John a thumbs up and moving into the shadows in a sheepish manor.

[center]~~~~Later that night~~~~[/center]
After an eventful day the best way to finish it had presented its self, ale with beautiful women and lots of food and no need for manners. All that had to be done to get it was to kill a few people, be nice to some others and just out right lie.

?Who said this job sucks?? Tony said looking over at Ken when no one was looking.

OOC: Just under 1000 words. Sorry about the lateness!

[liamc2]

No problem. I'm just happy you posted part of the story instead of excuses for once. ~_^

lol

[size=1]

The powder blue digits of Jonathan?s HUD winked at him as they clicked over another minute. Twenty-three twenty-six. The once polite and interested Irish had broken off into drunken rambling, inhibitions shed by their barley brew. The defenders, however, were clearly sober and were gleaning all the information they could from the only too willing warriors.

The last dying embers of the fires spat their protest as they faded and belched their last smoky cries up through the hole in the roof. Servants were now bustling around their drunken lords and were lighting torches and cleaning tables as they went.

Jonathan stepped over the ashes of the fire and sat down on one of the wide wooden benches, allowing one of the servants to push a fur blanket into his unresisting hands. In one of the corners he could just make out Nina?s form as she was ushered from the tent to the women?s quarters. The last of the blankets were being handed out and the drunken lords were being gently pushed to sleep by their underlings.

The torches that had been lit were now being put out. Jonathan muttered ?highlights? into his com and the blackness of the tent brightened to a white washout. The others made their way across, stepping carefully over the slumbering warriors before seating themselves on Jonathan?s bench.

?[I]What do you make of this?[/I]? Came Ken?s voice over the com channel, they had all sealed their voices for security against any eavesdroppers.

Jonathan yawned, ?[I]It?s called sleep. People who don?t drink coffee tend to do it Ken.[/I]?

?[I]He means security.[/I]? Jonathan didn?t recognise the voice, but he knew it could only be Quin?s.

?[I]I gathered that,[/I]? muttered Jonathan, ?[I]but I think we all need some rest. Just let the HUD security system do its stuff. If anyone without a Loaded signature approaches, you?ll be woken, simple.[/I]?

?[I]A sentry would be more traditional[/I]? said Ken.

?[I]But we all need to rest. I don?t care how macho you lot are, but as I?m in charge, I want us all to use the HUD security system.[/I]? Jonathan sighed after this statement before saying, ?[I]but if you really want to, you can all stay up. Just don?t come to me tomorrow complaining about how tired you are, because you?ll get no love from me.[/I]?

There was a pause and Jonathan used it to pick up his fur blanket and stretch out on the bench. The clock ticked over to triple zero and he closed his eyes.


There was a general shuffling going on around him and Jonathan opened his eyes. Everyone was lying down, but he very much doubted they were sleeping.
[I]Tracking?Found?Loaded[/I]

Everyone?s nametags appeared in front of his eyes with directional arrows and exact distances in metres. His sister was now with Kathy and Nina in a tent thirty metres away.

?[I]All secure and satisfactory there?[/I]? Jonathan asked.

?[I]Do you have to do that? For all you knew we were asleep![/I]? Leona cried in a mock anger.

?[I]But you weren?t.[/I]? Jonathan chuckled, ?[I]You know I have to check up on you guys. Speaking of checking up, do you think you?ve got adequate protection?[/I]?

?[I]Look Jonathan, it?s a tent, same as you. And I bet you don?t give a damn about your protection so stop worrying about ours.[/I]? Nina chuckled, and Jonathan could imagine her shaking her head. ?[I]Just get some sleep already. We promise we?ll holler if we need you.[/I]?

?[I]Fine, fine.[/I]?

The channel closed and Jonathan closed his eyes again. He didn?t remember how long it took him to fall asleep, but he did remember the dream. It was video footage, including the timer and grainy texture. It was a Load mission recording, one he?d seen a few years back. The team call sign was his father?s. Even though he was asleep, he could still feel himself relish that he was going to see his father once more?until the mission number focused.

A war torn village, Italian by the architecture and language on the walls, filled Jonathan?s mind. Rubble still slid in a steady trickle from the rooftops and a squad of six soldiers picked their way through the concrete and trash. Their Load serial codes hovered like vultures above each of their helmets. Jonathan?s father was in the lead.

There was the sound of an explosion, but it had the twinge of a modem dial, a rift was being exposed. Ahead of the group turf and bitumen were ripped up in a fireball and wretched smoke.

As one the Load squad took cover, for a fleeting instant Jonathan saw deep into his father?s eyes and saw and older, rougher, more experienced, version of himself looking back. His father barked out an order and the footage spun round to follow the squad?s gaze.

A tank was there, with German insignia, but it was a modern model, an English M1 to be precise. Equipped with depleted Uranium shells, infrared cameras and armour too thick for the Load team?s WWII weapons or their Blue bangs to penetrate.

?All it takes is one shot and we?re all gone. Why the hell did the rift had to be connected with the present? Bloody English and their stupid bloody tank advances?? The gruff voice came from a shortish unshaven man who was crouching behind the wall with Jonathan?s father.

?We need to get an egg behind it, that?s its armour?s weak point, we?ve got to penetrate the armour to get to the rift.? Another well-built and grimy man muttered this with conviction.

?Fine then. We need four at the front with a distraction. Get the blue bangs and some fireworks going. Two will go around the back and drop off half of our eggs.? The order Jonathan?s Dad and there was a murmur of affirmation. ?I?ll go around the back.?

?I?ll go with you Jack.? The man with the complaint against the English dropped a hand on his shoulder.

Without a word being spoken the other four handed over half their eggs and made their way out, morphing their sub-machine guns and rifles into their Blue Bangs.

Jonathan?s Dad and the Defender with the stubble picked their way through a shattered wall of the house they were hiding behind. The camera jumped up to an overview of the street. The serial numbers of each defender highlighted their position. Jack and his comrade picked their way around behind the tank and dumped their eggs before the M1 was any wiser.

There was a hiss and a flash of brilliant white. The M1 vanished and nothing but a pair of bewildered Nazis and a 15mm anti-personnel remained. They saw Jack retreat into the house, spun the cannon around and let loose.

Twenty rounds were fired but only two made their mark, the other eighteen flew harmlessly into the wall of the house. Only two of those high-penetrating rounds were needed.

This mission was one of the reasons why the Load project updated their Defender?s armour to a high-density titanium alloy body suit.

?Damn. I?m hit.? The words escaped Jack?s mouth, not carried by anguish, grief or pain. They flew on the wings of mild irritation, as though this was merely a snag and he was irritated at the fact he couldn?t complete his mission.

The serial number above Jack switched from a pure white to a foreboding black, and the image faded.

Jonathan opened his eyes, sat up and brooded over what he saw.
[/size]

[Sere Tuscumbia]

[size=1]Nyah, I've been gone, and I haven't had access to the internet.

So sue me for being a couple days late.

*/-/*

Nina sat, arms curled around her knees, blanket on her shoulders, staring blankly at the tent walls. Time ticked by, but she didn't move.

She couldn't sleep. Again. She could never find a way to fall asleep when she was in the Load. She'd lay back and relax, close her eyes, and the nightmares would start.

They were never about any specific thing. Always a jumble of images flashing through her head, random, frightening. None of it would ever make any sense, and all that Nina could remember was that she would wake up screaming, sobbing frantically every time. It never happened out of the Load, she was sure of it.

She refused to let anyone know about it. She couldn't. Word would get to the head of the Loaded program, and Nina was afraid that they would blame the nightmares on some mental problem relating to her being in the Load, and retire her from the Loaded program. She wouldn't allow that to happen. The Loaded program meant too much to her for them to do that.

Nina sighed, putting her hands down and pushing herself up, letting the blanket fall to the floor at her feet. When she walked past Leona (who was snuggled deeply down in her blankets), a sleepy mumble emerged from under the sheets.

"Where you goin?"

Nina crouched down next to Leona. "Out."

"Uh huh. Be good, you."

Nina rolled her eyes, stood, and lightly tapped Leona with her foot. "Like you're one to tell me [B]that[/B]."

She walked out of the tent and into the crisp air of early morning, shivering as the cold air washed over her. Rubbing her arms, she looked up at the sky.

There were stars in the night sky, but they weren't ones she recognized. [I]"Kinda depressing,"[/I] she thought, but shook it off. It was just the dreams getting to her. That and the fact that all she wanted was to be in her own bed again.

The thought nagged at her. To be in her own bed again. To never have to worry about keeping up personalities, worry about whether or not she was going to die that day. To never have the weight of keeping history intact on her shoulders ever again.

To just live a normal life. What would she do if she had a normal life? Who would she be?

Nina shivered again. She didn't like those thoughts. Even though the psychologists at that stupid lecture she had to sit through when she was in the training program said that everyone working on or in the Loaded program would have those kind of thoughts at least once, Nina still felt uneasy. To not know anyone from the Loaded program . . . Jonathon . . .

She wrapped her arms around herself to warm up, and looked over in the direction of Jonathon's tent. "Okay, Nina, stop trying to lie to yourself. You're incredibly bad at it," she said after a bit. "You know that they don't need anyone to make sure they're okay. It doesn't work and you know that." She paused for a bit, then sighed. "I know that you're lying, but if you [b]really[/b] want to go over there, then fine. If you get caught, don't get mad at me for saying 'I told you so'."

She started walking in the direction of the tent. "They're probably all asleep, you know. No, I [b]don't[/b] care just how much you want to curl up in a corner and bawl like a baby, I think that a big chill pill would help you out. Nina, it doesn't matter. No, I'm not going to listen. Period, end of statement."

When she reached the tent flap, she paused. "Ok, I could just turn around now, and be gone, or, or . . . ugh. Just get it over and done with already. You'll feel better in the morning."

She flipped the flap up, and slipped into the tent's warmth. After letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, she looked around.

And she didn't need her HUD to know that it was Jonathon who was sitting up a few feet away from her. He didn't notice her.

"You're up too, huh?" she asked, breaking the silence.

*/-/*

Would go on for more, but Mum's all like, "Nah, it's late. You have school. Get off." So, yeah.

--Sere[/size]

[liamc2]

Yay! If there are any changes needed to be made, contact me and I can mould this post to make it all better ^_^

[size=1]
Jonathan?s eyes flitted up to her. He raised an eyebrow and stood up, dropping the fur blanket back to the bench.

?Yeah.? He muttered to her in a whisper. ?C?mon, I?ll talk to you outside. There?ll be hell to pay in our reputation if where caught talking inside here.? Jonathan?s point was accentuated by a sleepy grunt from the other side of the tent.

Jonathan shot a glance around. It was early morning and no doubt that there would be no-one up for hours, especially after that bender that went on the night before. A low mist was dropping from the hills, giving the air an unnecessary ethereal feel.

?What?s up?? Jonathan ventured.

Nina sighed, breathing out a white cloud, ?couldn?t sleep.?

?Same problem as last time??

?You could say that.?

Jonathan nodded to himself and rocked on the balls of his feet. A horse in a stable nearby whinnied. He should venture what he saw, Nina knew all about it. She was there when he was shown the footage, she tagged along to find out what was going on. Back in the days when they were academic rivals. It was by chance that the door was left ajar and she peeked in.

Hell?he was so young, eighteen and a rookie in the Load academy. His mother was somewhere?but by some cruel twist of fate it resulted in him having to verify that it was his father?stupid?stupid red tape?they bloody well knew it was his father, but the red tape demanded that a family member verify.

Luckily Leona hadn?t seen the footage?the shock of hearing her father?s death was bad enough, fifteen and already fatherless, but if she?d had to verify it [I]was[/I] her father and view his final hour?it would have broken her in two?

?So why are you up so early Jonathan?? Nina?s voice broke through his mental stupor like fist through glass.

?Huh? Wha??

?You?re up early too y?know. Share and tell time. You worried about the mission??

Jonathan looked into her eyes and said, ?yeah. That?s what it is. Just a bit worried about the relations with the Irish. Not to mention the deadline and the rift trying to rip us all apart. Yeah, I guess that?s what?s keeping me up.? He gave a wry smile.

?The best thing for that I?d say is a good night rest Johnny-boy. Just because you?re in charge doesn?t mean you?re in charge of worrying about stuff. Leave the details to the Load Project.? Nina grinned. ?Everything sorts itself out in the end Jonathan, it always does.?

Jonathan nodded and jabbed a thumb at the tent, ?I guess I?ll take a kip for a while then eh??

Nina smiled and nodded, watching him peel back the folds and step back into the gloom.

?Since when did he ever give in so quickly?? Nina shook her head and fixated her stare on Jonathan?s HUD tag inside the tent. ?Sure, the Load Project sorts everything out, but it doesn?t worry about the pieces left behind.? She rubbed her hands together against the cold, ?we?ll finish this conversation later. You?re not the only one with insomnia.?
[/size]

[The Harlequin]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]OOC: Bleh, I tells ye Liam. I have no idea what my character is doing, so I'm going to take a walk in the apparently near-by woods.

IC: [i]Quin, disdaining sleeping as a pure and simple waste of time he could most likely spend more valubly being awake (which was a rather moot point, depending on one's opinion at the time, not to mention the circumstances). For someone who didn't get bored though, and wasn't in the mood for temporary oblivion, a bout of much prefered solitude seemed to be well in order.

Of course, he had no particular trouble slipping off. Or finding a place far enough out of the way, quite a considerable distance out of the way in fact, enough that he was unlikely to be disturbed. Granted, it was only an hour and a half's walk from everyone else, but that was enough to put him back in a forest, and he prefered that, despite apparent or realised dangers, than to being stuck in a tent or whatnot with a large number of people that would most likely aggravate him.

For now, he was sitting on a stump. It was not a very nice stump though. It had the distinction of being a truly massive stump, higher than his head, and large enough so that he could lie down inside its arcs should he choose to, but it was semi rotton, and when one says sitting on the stump, one actually means inside the massive hunk of dead lignin, leaning against a wall. Which, as was already stated, was not particularly nice.

Quin let out a sound that would have been a sigh, had it not been a simple exhalation. He'd been in this stump like object for quite a while now, and he new that in less welcomeingly dark like places, it would be getting light rather soon. And considering he technically wasn't supposed to simply disappear (despite a history that could be discussed at a later date), he assumed it would be best if he made a return. Of course, what use his return would be was another matter.

Quin left the circle of the stump, turning to give it a thoughtful kick...


...Sick of inhaling the fragments thrown into the air by the collapsing piece of rotton wood, he quickened his pace.[/font][/color][/I]

[liamc2]

Postedness. Got queries? Get me. ~_^

~~~

[size=1]
Text scrolled down past Jonathan?s vision. It was the future, or to be more politically correct, the [I]past[/I] of Ireland.

A gauge in the corner rose, simultaneously dates and events morphed and a new past was born. The gauge was the rift, and it was growing faster than it should.

Something?[I]someone[/I]?was feeding it?but how?

[I]?The winter was late in falling, summer hung, as though fearful of what would happen if it left-[/I] [b] Reformatting?[/b] [I]?The snow fell early, and as the wind whistled, the delirious war cries of the Fomhoire accosted the ears of the mighty Irish warriors?All the while they murmured against the leader of the Danann?contention was against him for it was seen as his presence was a bad omen?[/I]

Jonathan blinked.

This was bad, this was really, [I]really[/I] bad.

They had to move soon, the rift was getting intelligent, it had never targeted individuals before?

Something niggled at the back of his head, demanding to be acknowledged. Jonathan didn?t catch its eye and brushed it aside. He sat up and closed the text, stepping out of the tent. A bitter wind danced across his face, leaving ice crystals in his eyebrows.

Flags appeared on his HUD. Ken was signalling him, and the others were with him. The arrow indicated he was up on the hill?Jonathan spun on his heel and took off at a steady pace. He arrived and frowned.

There was a man on his knees, two warriors held him by the shoulders. In front of him were the nobles, a jury of sorts.

?Ah, here?s the man of the hour. Prince -Jonathan winced at the term- Jonathan. We were wondering about the Danann?s laws when it came to horse theft. Your sister mentioned that you had a better knowledge, and all of a sudden you are here. Marvellous.?

Jonathan looked into the shining eyes of the Clan Chief that he had spoken to the night before. Jonathan looked the kneeling fellow up and down.

?A fair trial would be in order first.?

?Yes, we have concluded he is guilty, several eye witnesses, including one of your sisters handmaidens,? he gestured to Kathy, ?saw this fellow take one of my son?s prized steeds.?

?Your judgement??

?Our custom is the Blood Eagle.?

Jonathan noticed that each of the team members flags flash. Their heart rate jumped, either it be out of disgust or horror, he couldn?t tell. The Blood Eagle was a barbaric punishment that involved cutting the victim?s chest open and draping their lungs over their own shoulders like a pair of gory wings. While they were alive.

?As this is not my country, Lord, I have no say over your punishments. I am biased in this matter. Do with this guilty fellow as you wish.?

[I] ?The Mighty Lord, leader of the United Clans, was pleased with his response. Yea, for the emissary of the Danann was truthful in his words. The Lord confided in his noblemen that This Man was one who could be trusted, and his proposal accepted.[/I]

The text filled Jonathan?s HUD and he let the air escape from his lungs.

The rift gauge fluctuated.

[b]ERR: Reformatting?[/b] [I]But the Lord was also displeased with the Danann warrior, for he expected him to disagree with his Judgement. The Lord harboured his displeasure and reserved judgement over the diplomatic party, for his anger was kindled only against the Danann leader, the one called Jonathan[/I]

Alarms flashed in Jonathan?s head. Literally. A bright yellow exclamation mark flashed on and off next to his highlighted name.

It just keeps on getting worse?

The rift was targeting him individually. It was moulding around him, tripping him up and changing the mindset of the Irish against him, not against his team members, [I]him[/I].

You dispatch a rift person to fix the course of time?but what if the course of time, the very river, is polluted by a rifted err?

Jonathan bowed and took his leave, opening a communication on all revolving frequencies.

He spoke and said, ?damn. Damn. Damn. [I]Damn![/I]?

?What?? I thought you did it well, he was pleased with your answer, mind you I wanted you to save that poor fellow-

Liam cut Leona off and muttered angrily, ?look again.?

?Huh??

?Look again Leona. Does he look pleased to you??

?Umm?? Leona paused as she looked. ?Oh crap. What the hell is going on? He keeps looking at you as you walk away, and muttering to the others.?

Jonathan sent all of the history text he had perused before the rift hit it, along with the altered history staggered .

?Damn.? It was Tony this time. ?Jonathan we?ve, well [I]you?ve[/I] got problems.?

Someone whistled in appreciation, ?Jonathan, I?ve never seen this before. Those rift actions are off the charts!? Zachary said, completely in awe.

Jonathan kept walking towards the wagons. ?Yeah. I kinda noticed that. We need to open that server, and I mean [I]now[/I]. Zachary, I want an outside line. It?s about time the Load Project knew what was going on in here.?

?Problem on that.?

Jonathan paused. ?Problem as in small setback but I?ll get my line anyway??

?No. Problem as in something is blocking any communications out. I?ve been trying to get some tech support since we got here, but some sort of code is blocking me, and it ain?t the rift. I?ve seen that code somewhere else before.?

[I]Worse and worse and worse and worse?[/I][/size]

[Lady Asphyxia]

[size=1]Kathy slipped away from the group, sighing as she walked into the open spaced area. It was a clearing in the courtyard -- almost Greek in style. [i]Odd, that[/i], she thought, noting that, while it might be of Greek design, it certainly had none of the class that ancient greek building held. It was grimy -- perhaps the washerwoman had decided it wasn't important -- and the floor was packed mud; nothing like the tiled floors of Greece and Rome.

She sniffed the air, noticing the fait whiff of cooking. The kitchen must be somewhere nearby. Not that she was hungry. The meals in these ages really consisted of pig, and fat. From the very few vegetables that were served, it seemed that even those were fried in fat.

The was a crackling in her implant, and the static radio communication was fading in and out. [i]The Load planet...odd activities...danger...[/i]. The static cut out and faded completely.

Grabbing hold of her veil, Kathy ran out of the courtyard and towards the tents. The others would want to know about it if they hadn't already heard. And if they had, there was quite a lot of planning to be done.

____

See? I post. [/size]

[liamc2]

[size=1]The soft click of the keyboard echoed from the corner of the dark room. Soft blue light traced like lightning across the hair-thin fibre optic cables that spread like a web across the room. The typing stopped and the chair hissed as someone leant back to admire their work.

?Done, done and done. Sometimes I even amaze myself.? The man?s voice was soft, like it hadn?t been used to converse with a real person for a long time. ?I?ve orchestrated this petty anomaly like the charade it is. Pity they?re suspecting something?? He paused, as though listening to something. ?Yes yes, it was a good idea to send those cracked messages?especially to that ?IT? fool Tony?? He laughed and patted a metallic panel in the wall, ?you thought well. He lapped it all up. That Richton boy is giving us problems. Much like his meddling father.? The man paused again, listening, ?yes?you showed him well for giving evidence against us?very well indeed.?

The panel in the wall hummed and lit up, revealing it to be the front cover of a hi-tech computer.

?No?no, you?re right. We need to eliminate his boy when he?s served his purpose. The rest of his team we can lead once he?s gone. Once they?re out of Loadspace, they?ll be too busy grieving over his death?and possibly someone else?yes, yes?much more dramatic?the Load Project will have to do a full investigation and shut down the Load?While they?re doing that we can continue unheeded, and play with his grieving sister?s mind?poor girl. Her father and then her brother??

There was another whir from the panel and the fibre optics blinked faster.

?Yes. Soon as they remove that frustrating AI, expand it and we?ll own them for once and for all.? He laughed, a small snuffling laugh, ?the Load Project believe everything to be fine, and the Load team will believe that they?re under its orders!?

The computer glowed fiercely and the man hunched over the computer, muttering apologies.

?Yes yes, no time to waste??


[I]?Jonathan??[/I]

?Yes??

?Kathy. Got some leaked messages, pretty urgent, sounded official. I?m sending the .mp3 to you now.?

Jonathan listened to the broken messages. He paused. It sounded official all right, but it was too broken?the white noise was?odd?as though there?no?that was impossible. The Load Project only had access to this place. The rift must have weakened and let some?routine? ?messages through. Jonathan didn?t want buy his own words, but it was the only thing he had money for right now.

?Good job Kathy. We?ll rendezvous back at the carts. The techies reckon they can create some sort of Holo-device to simulate the cart?s morphogenic field, while they?re really two low flying SUV?s.?

?I concur.?

?Just get here soon. We move out in the half-hour before the Fomhoire strike.?[/size]

[Guest cloricus]

~~~
Fork LoadOS
Runtime Damon ................................. [OK]
GUI HUD ............................................ [OK]
Starting Runlevel 6 ................................................

The pda continued to run under a nice graphic interface that was used to play games on, its main job apart from games was to hide the other systems installed on the small peace of hardware. Tony walked into a tent where the other tech's were busy analysing the message that was sent through, speech patterns, speed, pitch, tracing its origin, looking for hidden data but this was very hard seeing as no one in the team had ever thought they would get a message in the loadspace that would need fixing so no one with in-depth knowledge was ever employed into the group.
"You there," A man that Recko didn't know called from a corner of the room that had a massive stash of gear in. "Get on tracing this thing, unless you?re a specialist?"
Tony thought for a second. "Uh yeah I'll get right on it..." His speciality was in the area of tracking anyway so why make problems he reasoned as he moved to a free terminal. Plugging in a wireless adapter and connected his computer with the terminal to share the programs he was runnings load.

~~~
TracACE Loading...
Loaded...

The path that the message took was very long, the last three hops where the years 1912, 0923, 2001 respectively and the list went on for awhile until it hit where it had penetrated the loadspace environment. It was unclear whether it was a broadcast or a datacast, and on top of that it had 1023 locations it moved through to make it to the load space boundary and for some odd reason the order that it made that journey in was scrabbled.
"Sir," Recko called to the other side of the room to the man who assigned him the job. "This is going to take awhile."
"You've got all day, finish it." Came back the reply, which had a tone like a brick wall.

*30 minutes later*
Tony had ordered about 360 hops by time and location stamp when he finally came across the one he wanted, the load's main mail server. He was about to call some one over to get it verified he looked a bit further in it and realised that the trail died and oddly enough there was still a good 600 or so hops to go, this didn't seem like a coincidence.
*10 minutes later*
Still he had found no further way past the block, there just simply wasn't a path. This meant one of a few things. A lost message which wasn't uncommon, a real message that was just made to take the long road or a hack on the mail server and the creator had hoped no one would look too far into it. Still betting on the first option Tony called John in a privet com and explained what he had found, putting forward his opinion of the first outcome being likely but also highlighting that it was possibly the last option of a hacker which also meant that others on the team might not be as friendly as previously thought.

After he had finished explaining he looked around, others were still working on their tasks and new ones were being found so Recko set a program to check for ways around the blocked hop list and sat back and played some 3d chess.

Tony Recko
Tech - Loadspace

OOC: Just a short post.

[Lady Asphyxia]

[size=1]Kathy looked over at the group, then at the techies in turn. It seemed that one had been left with most of the work; he was frowning intently at the screen. She lifted up her long skirt past her knees -- indecent for the period, but no one was around to see -- and walked over to see what he was doing.

Now that she saw him properly, she realised he was one of the first people to get their injections -- she'd recognise that platinum blonde hair anywhere.

She grinned when she saw his hard work. It was 3-D chess, certainly worth concentrating on.

'What have you been doing?' she asked as she watched him play. The man must be smart -- at this point, he seemed to be beating the computer.

'Not only this.' He smiled at her in the screen. 'I've been tracking the messages you were sent.'

'Really? How?'

'Well,' he called up one of his open windows. 'This program here is checking for ways around the block.'

'What block?'

He ran his hand through over his head -- an obviously uncoscious gesture. 'Well...to start off with, I loaded this program, TracACE, and read the messages header -- a header is a thing that is on everything that's sent, and that resulted in a list of places the messages were sent. And I've sorted them out a bit, and then I hit a block.'

Kathy, who wasn't one for knowing anything about computers except that they had games, just stared.

'A block is like this big cement wall.'

Kathy nodded, finally understanding. 'Fair enough. I'm Kathy, by the way. We haven't been formally introduced.'

'Fry.'[/size]