RPG Illuminati X [PG]

[Ozymandius Jones]

[COLOR=RoyalBlue][SIZE=1][CENTER][B]I.[/B][/CENTER]

[i]Secret societies have always existed, from the very beginning of time. There has always been groups of people with the idea that their ideas are above the masses, and ? as such ? must be protected from them.

Societies such as this are generally passed down from generation to generation, father to son, parent to child?grandparent to grandchild?

The most famed of these societies is the Illuminati. Spoken about for years, suspected in everything, most of the world does not believe it?s real ? or if they believe, they don?t know what it?s for, other than the rumors of New World Orders.

The Illuminati is very real; and it has its shadowy hold on many, many things ? some things, even, that one might think immune from shadows. They have many secrets of all kinds, protected from an uncomprehending world?

But even the Illuminati cannot cheat death. Even the Illuminati cannot surpass tradition.

Grandfather to oldest grandchild, or so legend and tradition have it. Have had it, for many a year. Over time, the society has learned to?groom. To prune. If the oldest looks no good, [b]make[/b] it good. If it can?t be made good? It must be destroyed?

But even the Illuminati makes mistakes.[/i]
[CENTER]
[B]II.[/B][/CENTER]
[I]
It was a normal day, a day just like any other. Or so it seemed to Angus Heatherford, age 23, late of London. He was sprawled over the battered couch in his apartment, glasses propped on his forehead, legs over the back of the couch, TV on ? blaring ? but ignored as he scribbled frantically on a notepad.

He was playing with his tongue stud, clacking it against his teeth, much to the discomfort of the prim-and-proper man sitting at-attention at his table. The prim-and-proper man cleared his throat, shuffling his hands on his leather briefcase.

?Ahem!?

And Gus just blinked up at him, grey eyes bewildered. ?Wot, yer still ?ere??

The prim man sighed, pushing his own glasses back up on his nose.

?Sadly, sir, I am. You see, there?s been a little?incident with your grandfather??[/I]

"...Incident? Grandfather? I...don't follow." Gus fumbled with his glasses, slid them over his eyes to continue blinking at the strange man. "I don't 'ave a grandfather, Mum's dad died when I was two, and Da'..." His face just curled in a distasteful expression. "Dad's dad ran out on 'is Mum b'fore he was born, why-"

"That wasn't your father's father's doing. Not his choice, anyways..." The man shuffled his briefcase. "Mr. Heatherford," [i]Mister. G'wan, wot's 'e gettin' at?[/i] "May I sit? This is going to take some time..."

It did. Three hours, by Gus's nervous clock inspections ever three minutes. The prim man's name was Jasper. He wouldn't say his last name, just that he was a liason. [i]Liason[/i]. [i]He[/i] had a [i]liason[/i]. There were a few other things the guy mentioned...[i]quite[/i] a few, actually, but Gus was too busy thinking about one of the things he'd mentioned at the very beginning. Something about [i]money[/i]. Kid Chaos was the first person who came to mind. He gave the clock another furtive glance. Three hours twenty minutes...he tried to look interested. Apparently he failed.

Jasper gathered his breifcase, sliding an envelope across the table top. "That about covers it, Mr. Heatherford...I do hope you understand now..."

Gus waved vaguely. He'd heard some things...something about factions, something about artifacts, and something else about appearances - but he really just wanted that money bit, so he grinned.

"Of course, of course. Inhereitances ain't really that difficult, y'know." Jasper did not look convinced, but took up his briefcase, nodded, and turned on his heel for the door.

"My card is in that envelope; call me if you deem it necessary." And then he was gone, door creaking shut in his wake. Gus waited a beat before tearing into the envelope, shaking a handful of cards out onto the table. He tossed aside the thin printed paper, and the businesscard with Jefferey Churchill printed on it, and leafed through the other cards. Five credit cards, platinum and something that looked even better than platinum. His grin grew to almost sinister perportions - or would have been sinister, if not for it being, yanno...Gus.

He practically rocketed off his chair, charging for the door and down the hall for the payphone outside. He wouldn't have to use the payphone very much longer. He dialed in the number with shaking finger.

"Oy! Kid! Guess what..."

[CENTER][B]III.[/B][/CENTER]
[I]
?Sir, Jeffery has died.? The shadows were blocked by the smoke of cigars, but eyes glinted there all the same.

?Good, good, about time the old hound passed away?.gave someone else a chance at the reigns??

?But?sir?that chance??

The eyes in the shadows hardened, narrowed. ?Spit it out, man, what are you saying??

?Your son wasn?t the oldest grandchild.?

???

?There?s another, goes by the name of?? There was the sound of papers being rattled.

??Gus.?

??Gus??

?Yessir.?

[i]Gus[/i]. The man in the shadows glowered. This wouldn?t do at all?[/I]

A large hand reached for the intercom on his desk. "Alice."

"Yessir?" the clipped, efficient voice of his secretary came back through his intercom.

"Get me DuLoc...and Reinhilde. Send them to my office."

Something had to be done.

[B]
[CENTER]
---[/CENTER][/B]
[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]OOC: Alright, my punks. If you're a punk, you've got a phone call from Gus telling you to meet at a bar. Feel free to make up the name, but it'll be your typical dive/rave club. If you're Illuminati, you've gotten a call from Alice. Benjamin Heatherford wishes to see you in his office, posthaste. In other words, write me some establishing posts, please and thank you, and my apologies for taking so long. Underground is [url=http://www.otakuboards.com/showthread.php?p=767635#post767635]here[/url].[/COLOR]
[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Sojio]

Calbrae was just finishing his coffee in the small room he called an office. It was a tight fit only 4 by 3 but he called it cosey. When his pager went he picked it off the table and stared at it

666-907-443

"What now Gus?" he said under his breath. He picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, opened the door and proceeded to Gus' bar.

[4815162342]

[COLOR=Magenta][SIZE=1][i]I hear in my mi~i~ind...all of the--[/i] The cassette Spike listened to stopped fast so that all she heard now was a repeated whirring and every so often a mechanical whine as her player continued to turn - and to her [i]great[/i] disgust - refuse to play the tape. It seemed that in lieu of performing its normal function that it instead felt inclined to rotate the tape in the borrowed cassette around and around, and around, and around, ad nauseam.

Finally, with a long suffering sigh (that her mother rolled her eyes at), the pink haired ? yes, [i]pink[/i] haired ? young woman depressed the button to pop open her portable ? and, if she was allowed to complain ? [i]ancient[/i] tape player.

It stuck. Quite firmly, too.

Spike growled beneath her breath, hissing like an angry cat as she brought the tape player down on the edge of the table. With an almost irate whir the tape player opened, shut, ejected the earphones from their port and began to play the tape again at incredible volume. Spike?s mother looked up with a disapproving stare as the music changed from an almost tolerable (to her anyhow) song to something that sounded (again, to her) like millions of screaming children (Around three or four years old ? the annoying age!) recorded over the sound of semi-trucks and power tools.

As Spike thumbed at the volume to turn the music up, Maureen raised one of her hands ? the one she wasn?t using to fill out paperwork ? and pointed out the door. ?GO!?

Now, normally, Spike wouldn?t have cared, but?today she didn?t want to risk her mother?s wrath. So after grabbing her earphones, a heavy military jacket and an apple she practically skidded out the door into the cool air just as her phone rang.

She pulled the phone from her jacket pocket and answered as she struggled into her jacket and eyed the rapidly setting sun.

?Yeah?? She made a face at a couple of passerby, her jewelry glinting in the golden sunlight and streetlights as she listened to the voice on the other end and changed her course with an about turn. Gus said to meet him at the Fugazi ? the day was [i]definitely[/i] looking better already, she thought, as she hung up and her earphones found there way into her ears.

[i]Definitely[/i][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=#4B5B5B][indent]Sitting in the dark dimmed room with her legs up on the sofa, Reinhilde stared at the pouring rain. Something about the rain soothed her and gave her an almost nostalgic feeling; there was something about the rain that made her forget everything in the world. She needed that often, to forget, considering she was an Illuminati now. The position as Illuminati member wasn?t all rigorous; it was the atmosphere around it that weighed her down. They had always said that she wouldn?t last, that she would crack like thin ice.

Scoffing in the dark Reinhilde said to herself, [B]?What do they know??[/B] As she pressed her lips against the wine glass, her cellphone rang. She closed her eyes and set her glass down; anticipating who the call might be from. Reinhilde reached behind her and took out a Blackjack from her jacket pocket. She opened her eyes and found it to be the one person she dreaded a call from, [B]?Alice.?[/B] The woman on the other end sounded cheerful, something Reinhilde hated when she was interrupted in her time off. [B]?You have thirty seconds to tell me what Heatherford wants, Alice.?[/B]

Although familiar with Reinhilde?s impatient nature, Alice cleared her throat uncomfortably and addressed the situation to her. [B]?Mr. Heatherford requests your presence in his office, Ms. Montgomery.?

?More he demands it, really.?[/B] Reinhilde said as she sighed. [B]?I?ll be there in five minutes.?[/B] She hung up the phone and downed the final contents that were in her wine glass, her eyes still on the rain-stained window. [B]?I never get a day to rest, do I??[/B]

Slipping on her black business skirt and throwing her jacket on, Reinhilde gathered what she needed from her home and walked out the door. It was nearing ten at night and yet she stepped into a car that would soon take her to the office of Benjamin Heatherford- the man who had a hold on Reinhilde Montgomery?s life. The sounds her clicking heels echoed down the empty hallway until they stopped in front of a desk, behind whom sat none other than Alice. In a sultry intimidating way, Reinhilde put a hand on the table and with the other took her sunglasses off, all the while leering at the secretary.

[B]?Let Mr. Heatherford know?that I?ve arrived.?[/B][/size][/color][/indent]

[Skye]

[size=1][color=red]Faye struggled to pull the blood red turtleneck over her head without dislodging the bowl of leftover Chinese food in her lap, and somehow managed. She blew a stray strand of blue hair out of her eyes, and puckered her lips thoughtfully. She had received a message from Gus on her phone, before she was ever even up, and told her to meet him at the bar. Setting aside the bowl of food, she tilted her head at the mirror that sat across the room from her. She sighed gustily, blowing another piece of hair out of her face.

Faye ? or, as we shall know her, Pixie ? was very confused. She thought maybe the night before she?d been drunk, but wasn?t altogether sure. All she knew was that this time Kid hadn?t been there to stop her from getting stepped on. She frowned, then instantly perked up, afraid her face would stick in that position. Another sigh, another flop of her hair. She searched around the bed for her current fave find, a butterfly barrett, and pinned the resistant lock of hair back from her face. Pixie blew her reflection a kiss, and then, slipping into her DC shoes and leather jacket, she left the apartment.

She grumbled. [I]Grumble?[/I] Pulling the fluorescent jacket tighter around her small frame, Pixie cursed the god who invented hangovers and cold winds. Her feet took her right where she needed to be, and she looked up and smiled elfishly at the bouncer to the bar where she worked and Gus had ? conveniently ? asked them to meet, Shakers. He chuckled at Pixie?s hangover-flushed cheeks, and let her in.

The young bartender looked around quizzically. She was unused to being in a bar she wasn?t serving at, so she grabbed a stool at the counter and put her head down. [I]Oh blessed, cold counter?[/I] She heard a soft chuckle over her head.

?[b]You?re bloody lucky my head hurts, or you?d have a broken nose, Gavin.[/b]?

Pixie didn?t have to look up to know that Gavin was smirking. She also didn?t have to look up to realize that someone was coming in the door. She wondered if it was Gus or Kid?[/size][/color]

[Ezekiel]

[SIZE=1]Julian rested his head back against the cool leather of his armchair, only just finished pouring himself a glass of wine before settling down for what he hoped to be a relaxing read. He'd had a nice batch of cheese shipped in from France just that morning and was itching to sample it.

Then the phone rang.

Not the normal phone in his kitchen, but the cream one in his office. The phone with gold numbers on the buttons and silver trimmings around the edge of the ear and mouthpiece. The phone that indicted his services were needed for the Illuminati.

[B]"Oh, joy."[/B] he spoke out loud, pulling himself out of the chair with an audible squeak only fine leather could produce. He walked to his office quickly and picked up the phone, already knowing who would be on the other end.

[B]"Hallo, Alice. Would you like to see me?"[/B]

He heard Alice draw in a breath and could picture her pursing her lips in annoyance at being interrupted.

[B]"Dr. DuLoc, your services are required by Mr Heatherford. Please get here as soon as you can."[/B]

She put the phone down without so much as a 'Thank you' and Julian stared into the receiver for a few seconds before replacing it with an annoyed sigh. He ran a hand through his mousy brown hair and selected a jacket from behind the door, buttoning the expensive black garment up before putting on his shoes and jogging down the stairs to get his car, preferring to drive himself to meetings such as these. Especially meetings in the tail end of the night.

He arrived just in time to see the insufferably devilish Reinhilde leaning over Alice's desk; her booted feet crossed at the ankle so her body arched, much like a feline. Julian supposed she liked to consider herself like that. Like Catwoman. He stifled a laugh and walked next to her, tapping his knuckles on the desk impatiently.

[B]"Let Mr Heatherford know that I've [I]also[/I] arrived."[/B] he nodded to Alice and then to Reinhilde politely, hoping he wouldn't have to speak much with either of them for the rest of the evening.[/SIZE]