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The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby insaniac99 » Wed Sep 05, 2012 12:32 pm

Aldwyn
Condition: Fine
HP: 1

"I fear this is not over friends." Aldwyn says as he floats towards the now unconscious robed figure to search for more signs that this was a member of the Black Hand. "I think this man is a member of the Black Hand, a shadow organization with dreams of ruling the world. This brings two questions, why were they trying to rob the bank, and they haven't been seen in decades so why do they show themselves now?"
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby RedBstrd » Fri Sep 07, 2012 8:52 pm

Kashii

After confirming that the hostages are safe, Kashii teleports around looking for Metal. Finding Aldwyn speaking to the rest of the team, he notes: "Metal can maybe answer this question for us. Mr. Metal, when you are done with the future weapon, could you look into this terminal downstairs? The robed men tried to access the account of a man." Some of Kashii's linguistic quirks shine through in his comments. Looking around at the rest of the team, he asks: "Is everyone ok?"

He then spots the captured mook, whom he gives a disapproving glare.
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Lord Fell » Tue Sep 18, 2012 2:41 pm

Terror Twins

Bicep follows Kashii's gaze, and seems to perk up at the sight of the mook. "Oh yeah, man. Good thinking." With a couple of strides, Bicep has hold of the man, and is starting to forcibly remove the hireling's armour. "I figure the nerf herder in the bathrobe is a cultist or something, interrogating him would be all sorts of frustrating. You a mercenary maybe? You'll answer questions, I figure..."

Tossing the last bits of armour on the ground, Bicep is looking for a quiet place to ask the serious questions. "Are you familiar with the Geneva Conventions? I mean, I kinda know them. Sorta. I just wouldn't want to break them. But I mean, unless you're some kind of expert, we'll just have to wing it." Meanwhile, Bicep has summoned a highly localized storm... it encompasses his prisoner, and that's about it. Chill winds and freezing mist. "I'm Bicep, by the way. You're lucky my sister Torrid isn't here. She's starting the triage on the wounded... and the dead. She's super pissed off at you guys."

Meanwhile, Torrid is finishing up the bulk of the disaster clean up. She isn't attempting to do any rebuilding, just storing building rubble and debris in the safest manner. Wounded and worse people she's moving to the Bank that Bicep identified as a suitable place for triage... and also, as Bicep stated, she is harbouring hostile thoughts towards the perpetrators.

She makes an appearance. Suddenly, she's just standing next to the man Bicep has started to interrogate. "I'm Torrid. I'm enraged. One's a name, the other's a state." There is a staccato of ringing slaps as Torrid gives the mook a refresher on manners. Then, hoisting the man to his tip-toes by one firmly twisted nipple, she growls at him. "My brother is going to ask you some questions now, and if I'm not satisfied with your answers, I'm going to have a go at you." ...and just like that, she's no longer there.

Bicep shrugs. "I guess we'd better get started."
Untrained Intimidate (1d20+2=13) Good enough for an Aid Other.
Intimidation, Insight (1d20+10=24, 1d20+10=22) Also, Bicep is using his Weather Control to make the mook as uncomfortable as possible without causing frost bite, hypothermia, et al.
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Millennium » Tue Sep 18, 2012 2:52 pm

GM wrote:I did forget a clarification. The robed villain is indeed still conscious, but has given up his struggle. So won't affect anything that's going on


The armoured Mook cowers under the baleful glare of the two terror twins. Under a hail of slaps and a flex of aryan muscle he points toward the figure in the hood. "PLEASE, PLEASE, I'LL TELL YOU EVERYTHING I KNOW!.... just.... just... get him away from me". The robed figure spits out "Silence fool!" but quickly cowers under the looks of the assembled Sentinels, a clearly beaten man.

GM wrote:Cracked like a good egg. Bicep can be confident that whatever the Mook spills will be the whole truth
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Millennium » Wed Sep 19, 2012 2:46 pm

GM wrote:Putting this in to try and skip things along


Once he's sure that the robed figure won't harm him in any way, the Mook spills his guts. "I didn't know anything about the bomb, I swear on my mother's life! The two men in charge approached me and my friends, hired us for a bank robbery. They gave us this armour and the guns, told us to make good use of them in scaring any hostages and fighting off 'interference'. They said nothing about a bomb!" his voice cracks with fear and more than a little anguish. "Oh god, I didn't know... I thought we were here for money, taken from some American... Christopher somthing... That's all I know I swear!".

The desperate look in the man's eyes convince you that he's telling the truth. His story is also partly corroborated when the bank manager tells you that he was told to open the account of one Christopher Deckard; the current Republican candidate for President of the United States!
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Hound » Wed Sep 19, 2012 5:07 pm

Shadow Wing
HP: 1


Munich, Germany

Private Air Field

Several Nights ago...


A lone surplus military transport plane sat upon the tarmac, it's large gas turbine engines, hummed as the internal pre-heater maintained the lubricant's ideal temperature for immediate take off. A few powerful lights lit up the loading zone, yet there was not enough lights to illuminate the entire runway and only served to leave the men working, night blind in the areas not covered by the lights. A gentle snow fell yet melted the moment it touched the run way. Like most modern airways, the tarmac was installed with a heater to prevent icing.

Half a dozen men casually loaded the transport, moving crates from the nearby large aircraft hanger. They did not seem to be in much of a hurry, as they intentionally lulled in the hanger or transport to avoid the brisk cold air outside.

Another half dozen men however were forced to brave the cold, bundled up in large thick coats as they kept watch, insuring no uninvited guests dropped by. Each man held a concealed fire arm, most wouldn't notice it, but a trained eye could spot the tell tail signs, the way they shifted their weight, the way they readjusted the holster strap, they way they kept checking the object to ensure it was still there.

Two men sat in the cock pit of the transport, double checking and triple checking the systems, ensuring the transport held enough fuel for the long trip. The plain had been installed with additional fuel tanks, reducing the cargo capacity but increase it's flight range. All together the plain held just enough fuel to cross the Atlantic, and reach it's final destination in the United States with out a single stop.

All together fourteen men worked away on the private air strip, each one a professional, each one with thoughts of their pay day. None of them noticed the small figure, using the patchwork of shadows as a path, making her way closer to the plane. Her movements were swift and deliberate, without a single wasted action, she was as silent as a shadow. Acting with care she slowly counted each man, assessing their movement patterns.

For several minutes she simply watched, and when the perfect moment arrived she slipped on to the transport with out detection. In the blink of an eye she struck the pilot in the back of the skull with pinpoint accuracy, knocking him out but not killing him. Half a second later, before the co-pilot could react, she struck him, likewise leaving him incapacitated. With no time to spare she set to work, shutting down the plane. With in moments she had done so much damage to the plane consoles, it would take a full team of technicians a week to repair her mess.

The plane was grounded.

Their path was closed.

Time to spring the trap.

The costumed woman left the cock pit and ducked behind a crate. Silently she drew her torch cutter and quickly severed the nails bolting the lid shut. She took a quick peak inside. A bomb, a big one. She repeated the process and checked another crate. Small arms, military grade, but without serial numbers. By her estimate the arsenal on board was enough to start a small war, yet it was only to kill one man.

Two of the cargo loaders came running onto the plane, each one with a pallet jack in tow, carrying another crate of supplies. "Man it's cold." The one said as he set the pallet in place, the continued to remove a package of cigarettes and light up.

The shorter man grunted in acknowledgement as he unloaded his own pallet. The two proceeded to lean against the crates, taking a break and absorbing the heat. What they didn't know was the plane had been shut down, and very soon would be just as cold as outside.

That didn't matter, the costumed woman used the crates for cover, edging closer to the two men, then with the speed of a cobra strike, she lashed out and struck the two men simultaneously, dropping them like bags of potatoes.

The lit cigarette rolled from the unconscious fingers of the one man and the woman stepped on it, extinguishing it. "Filthy habit." She said in her native Japanese language.

She reached into the man's jacket and removed the holstered hand gun, she aimed it at the lights of the cargo plane and fired, leave the plane in total darkness. Of course the shot drew the attention of all the men on watch, just as she had hoped.

With their pay day on the line, each man booked it for the plane, drawing their weapon. One man pulled out a radio, "What's going on in the plane, report!" But the radio only replied with empty air.

The remaining ten men created a semi-circle around the exit of the plane, weapons drawn, ready for anything, except for what came next.

A small round marble like object rolled down the ramp. One of the men stepped forward and stopped the ball with his foot, when suddenly it popped like a fire cracker, releasing a thick black smoke. The men began to cough and panic as their vision was filled with nothing but smoke.

Suddenly a man grunted and collapsed, then another. The remaining men began to panic and started opening fire. One man tried to call cease fire, for fear of friendly cross fire, but was drowned out by the thundering crack of the fire arms.

Real fire arms are nothing like what they show on the movies. They are loud, startlingly loud. They can easily cause major hearing damage. Despite no one hearing the cease fire however, the shooting slowly stopped. One after another, the hand held guns stopped firing. Not because they heard the order, but because one by one the men were being taken out till only one remained.

The lone remaining man began to panic, but the smoke was already clearing. With his weapon at the ready he moved towards the nearest large bright light, thinking the light would protect him. He heard a whirling noise and looked up in time to spot an oddly shaped boomerang strike the light, casting darkness down upon him.

The man began to grow more and more terrified, every shadow was a monster. "What the hell is going on?!" He exclaimed loudly, and randomly fired. He hit nothing. He fired again in another direction, this time he saw something. Lit for only a brief moment by the muzzle flash he saw her, dressed all in black, with a mask, and a long flowing cape, there was only one woman in all the world.

Suddenly something grabbed his arm and twisted, forcing him to drop the weapon at the same time it forced him to his knees. With strength no normal woman could muster, the man screamed in agony as his arm was held, at first he thought she broke it, but then he realised she was simply holding it at it's limit. Only the tiniest of pushes would snap his bones.

"Do you know who I am?" A woman's voice came from behind him, her English was perfect and held no trace of an Asian accent, she kept her voice low, barely above a whisper.

"Shadow Wing. You're ***deleted*** Shadow Wing." The man practically screamed, shaking with fear.

"Then you know what I will do to your arm if you lie. And I will know if you lie." Her voice was low, calm, relaxed, which oddly enough put the man on more of an edge. "Who was the target."

"Christopher Deckard" The man replied in an instant.

"You're off to a good start. Keep it up, and you won't spend the new years in the hospital..."
"Whats wrong? You came here expecting to fight a madman, and instead found a god!?"
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Hound » Wed Sep 19, 2012 5:33 pm

Shadow Wing
HP: 1


Zurich

Now

Paul's Hotel Room at the conference centre


Paul Grueninger, the United Nation's handler fumbled for his card key to his hotel room, he seemed to be in an odd hurry. His face was contorted in a panic look and his brow was damp with sweat. In his haste he dropped the card key on the ground. "Relax Paul." He told himself, forcing himself to swallow he wiped the cold sweat from his hands onto his pants before picking up the card.

He swiped the card and the electronic lock deactivated. The agent quickly pushed open the door, forgoing his usual ritual of thoroughly inspecting the room, he made a bee line for his open bags. With no care what so ever, he began packing as fast as he could. By mere chance he glanced in the mirror hanging above the king size bed and spotted her. She was standing behind him, as still as a statue.

Had he really walked right past her? No, she wasn't there when he entered. Paul was a highly trained agent, how did she sneak up on him with such ease? He already knew the answer to that. That's what she did. He slowly turned, to face the woman. "Hello Shadow Wing."

"Hello Paul." She replied with a whisper, glaring under her cowl.

Paul unconsciously swallowed as he gazed into her chestnut brown eyes. Her cowl hid her face, but at this distance he could see the colours of her eyes. He had often wanted to tell her she had beautiful eyes, but knew she would break his arm for saying such a thing. The agent licked his dry lips, trying to play it cool. "Paying me a visit in my room? You're bolder than normal. If you wanted a date you should have called first." He chuckled at his own joke.

Her glare intensified, and Paul felt as though he was being petrified by Medusa herself. "W-what?" He asked trying to smile, but failing miserably.

"Make it easy on yourself Paul. Tell me everything so I don't have to drag it out of you. You've seen what I can do." Her spoke, barely above a whisper, but with such intensity that Paul couldn't help but hang on every word. "Don't reach for your gun Paul. Spending the rest of your life in a wheel chair isn't worth it. Just tell me everything."
"Whats wrong? You came here expecting to fight a madman, and instead found a god!?"
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby RedBstrd » Wed Sep 19, 2012 11:36 pm

Kashii
Condition: Fatigued
HP: 3

Kashii thanks the bank manager for the name of the target. "Maybe you could contact the gentleman. I don't know about American financial system but he might take steps to protect himself. He must have money elsewhere. At the least, he should know about the attempt on his savings."

The costumed hero tries to recall which state Mr. Deckard is from. "I will look on the internet. They must have a number for Deckard's press secretary." Explaining his reasoning, he notes: "Maybe we should visit the man across the pond and ask about enemies and so on. Authorities will have to question and deal with the criminals here and Metal needs time to look at this future gun - and maybe the terminal to see if he can learn anything."

Investigations aren't Kashii's strong suit, so the martial artist is eager to get back to the hotel, recover from the day's trial, and browse the internet for information on Deckard and his campaign.
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby insaniac99 » Thu Sep 20, 2012 2:02 am

Aldwyn
Condition: Coldly angry

Aldwyn went to the robed man, and methodically searched for confirmation that this man was a member of the Black Hand. When he was done he straightened, his eyes seemed to glow, those attuned to such things would sense that the magical energy radiating from Aldwyn shot up -- from a campfire to a veritable bonfire -- as he said "Would but I only remembered how, I would have you tell me everything. As it is, I intend to make sure you never again befoul this world with your Dark magic."

OOC wrote:Stopping my post here to allow for reactions, if any, as what Aldwyn said can be taken multiple ways. When the scene shifts/ends Aldwyn intends to use his contacts in the mystic worlds and research the Black Hand and their doings. I'll wait to roll until asked, and Millennium is more than welcome to roll for me if he wishes (honestly, my luck is usually so bad, it would probably help ~_^) Aldwyn already mentioned the black hand and his concerns about this being about much more than money so he isn't one to reiterate so soon without further confirmation.
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby RedBstrd » Thu Sep 20, 2012 12:13 pm

Kashii
Condition: Fatigued
HP: 3

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Sir, please don't kill this one, sir," Kashii blurts out in defense of the robed man. "I don't like him either but the police can deal with him after we are done." In the case that the magician is trying to intimidate the man, Chidubem places his hand on a fighting rod. "Maybe if you want, I can beat him up a little instead. These rods work wonders when they shock the genitals. I have heard it's like a car battery attached to each testicle..." He looks at the robed man and notes, very seriously, "I think it better if you do everything he says."

OOC wrote:I, OOC, assume that Aldwyn means to do something to try cutting the mook off from his source of magic. Kashii isn't very familiar with formal magic, so the idea wouldn't occur to him.

If Aldwyn tries an interaction skill like Intimidate, Kashii will assist.
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Millennium » Fri Sep 21, 2012 9:53 am

In the hotel
Paul's eyes dart from side to side, clearly weighing up his options. Before he can even reach, Shadow Wing warns him away from the gun. There's a cold panic in his eyes, but then something clicks in his head. Still nervous, he raises his hands slowly forwards with his wrists held as if in preparation for handcuffs. "I don't have to tell you anything. I'll confess to nothing in this room. I'll hand myself over in the trust you'll immediately take me to the police and contact with a lawyer".

In the street
With a flutter of his hands, Aldwyn puts an Eldritch cage around the robed figure. There's a pulse of light and the cage disappears. There's a pain in the other man's eyes now, as if some invisible wound has wracked him.

As the Sentinels crowd around the robed figure, ready for an interrogation, a voice cries out from behind them. "Hold friends please!" As the group turns they see the now conscious form of Helvetia, Switzerland's national hero, walking toward them. "Thank you to whomever saved me from my fall. I am embarrassed to have been taken so easily by these fools". Her eyes dart to the figure in the robe. "Now if you please, I must give this one and his friends to the police so that Justice may begin. For your aid, I promise that you'll hear everything this snitch has to say".

GM wrote:Aldwyn is fairly certain that members of the Hand don't have a history of suicide, so has no fear of this man ending his life before questioning.

We've spent enough time here. I don't want the game to slow with an interrogation, so I'll have the info passed to you in a manner that allows us to move on. Especially as there are about to be a couple of character changes
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Millennium » Mon Sep 24, 2012 12:41 pm

...Mighty Oaks Do Grow

In the days following the robbery it becomes apparent that things could have been much worse had The Sentinels not have intervened. The quick actions of Beltane, Metal and Torrid in clearing the wreckage meant that the list of injured was very small, although not, unfotunately, without fatalities.

Paul Gruenigen is arrested along with the robed figure and his goons. The robed man is identified as Evan Cartwright, a UK diplomat based in Switzerland. Under questioning both men confirm that they are members of the Black Hand, dedicated to world control. Both give tirades that you'd expect from cultists; determined that the Hand would not fall even with their arrests etc. etc.

Cartwright confirms that they were there to access the accounts of Christopher Deckard, claiming only that they were looking for "stolen treasures once lost". He doesn't give away the name of his accomplice.

Gruenigen is convicted of acts of terrorism and the illegal disclosure of information regarding the activities of The Sentinels.

Any investigation into Deckard reveals him to be a moderate Republican. He's currently ahead in the polls for the Presidential race and the only real thing that has marked him out in recent times was his vote, at odds with the party line, against the militarisation of Supers.


Several weeks after the events in Zurich, your communicators burst into life. Your new handler Elspeth Sharpe, barks over the radio: "There's a situation in Melbourne, and the Australian government has asked us to intervene. There's a giant wreaking havoc in the middle of the city. It looks like it's already taken down The Tazmanian Tiger and Rainbow Serpent. We need to be there asap".

Any look at a television set lets you see the titan in action. A large, bezerk looking figure standing well over 50' tall. Only the most unobservant could miss the large swastika tattooed on the giant's shoulder...
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Lord Fell » Wed Sep 26, 2012 3:19 pm

Terror Twins

Like a pair of rainbow-crested storm-crows, Bicep and Torrid lean toward the monitor. Their movements are perfectly synchronized, and they stare at the image for several seconds.

<I checked Reich-Watch as recently as last week, and this isn't ringing any bells.>
<Not everyone who wears the Swastika is a Neo-Nazi. He might just be an asshole.>
<Possible. Improbable though. Even a sympathizer who felt strongly enough to get that tattoo wouldn't be displaying it so prominently if this act of terrorism wasn't related to their politics.>
<The Blank Hand is linked to Nazis, but not too strongly. Likely they considered Hitler & Co. to be patsies.>
<How wonderful for us.>
<This guy isn't ringing any bells for me either, but there's some files that come to mind. Remember Yggdrasil?>
<I was thinking Hecatonchier.>
<No... all the real Super Nazi programs had Norse mythology attached. Anything else was a Red Herring.>
<What about the Mussolini projects? Some of those were legitimate.>
<That's true, but Mussolini was a joke, and so were his Supers projects.>
<Maybe so.>
<I don't think we have any useful information to bring to the table.>
<Agreed.>


The twins straighten up and simultaneously shrug. "I guess we need to get to Australia. Who's driving?"
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby Hound » Thu Sep 27, 2012 4:51 pm

Shadow Wing

"So glad you could show up to work for once." Growled a grumpy Hispanic man. He was tall, well over six foot, built like a line backer, and his bronzed head was perfectly shaved. He wore simple jeans coupled with a dark navy polo shirt, on his belt was a detective's badge, and gun holster complete with a standard issue 9mm hand gun, standard issue for all police officers.

He folded his arms and glared down at the much shorter Asian woman. Her long straight black hair was tied back into a tight little bun, and she wore small square rimmed glasses, giving her a librarian look. She wore a simple white blouse with dark navy blue dress pants. A CSI badge was flipper to her front left breast pocket. In her arms was a small forensic tool kit. "Where is the murder scene?" She asked dryly, ignoring the rude comment.

"In here!" A young black officer called pointing the way, he was dressed from head to toe in the standard police rig.

"Thank you, Officer." The young woman replied, gave a small, customary smile, then proceeded in side.

The Hispanic detective followed her, "Where do you go all the time, any way, Akane? The Captain seems completely fine with the fact that you miss more than half the work week on average, but if anyone else is so much as a minute late..."

"Detective Greer, what does this have to do with our case?" Akane Tanaka cut him off, and entered the murder scene.

The home was beautiful, and massive, easily costing millions to own. The place was decorated with fancy and very expensive looking furniture and art, and nearly everything is pristine white. Judging by the lack of dust, and general cleanliness of the place, at least a couple of maids were probably hired daily just to keep it perfect.

Well. Almost perfect.

Two corpses littered the main living room. A white man, maybe in his mid thirties laid slumped against the wall. His throat slashed open with a single quick slash, his blood stained the white walls and white carpet.

The other corpse was a woman, she looked barely 20, and wore a skimpy bikini that could make a porn star blush. She had dozens, maybe even hundreds of tiny little cuts, and plenty of defensive wounds. She was bled slow, and the killer enjoyed it.

"Who were these people?" Akane asked with a cool calm voice.

"The man is a notorious drug king pin, we've been trying to pin him for years, but he always worms out of every case. The man moves billions of dollars worth of drugs every year. The woman is just some eye candy, she's a college drop out. No priors." Greer said with a sigh, "Its obvious someone came in, killed the drug king, probably stole drugs, and ran off. The girl was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I doubt that." Akane snapped, "Look at the wounds. The man was killed with a single strike, he bleed out in seconds, he was done and over with. Yet the girl... the killer took his time. He wanted her to suffer, he wanted her scared. I think it was an ex-boyfriend. Someone she left for the drug dealer here."

"That's ridiculous, the guy is a drug king! He deals with scum every day. Are you telling me some punk, sick on puppy love for the blonde, killed a man worth billions of illegal dollars, just by chance?" Greer scoffed, he looked like she had just told him a Gnome had killed them.

"I am just telling you the story that the bodies tell---" Akane was suddenly cut off, her cell phone began beeping. She removed it from her back pocket and checked the contents of the text message.

The text was a top secret code meant only for her, so only she would know what it meant. She sighed, "Detective Greer, I have to go, I will send some of my assistants down to collect evidence. But if I were you, I would look into the girl's past boyfriends."

"You just got here, where the hell are you going?!" Greer practically roared.

"Don't you know, Detective? I'm Batman." She said with a devious smile.

The detective groaned, "Fine what ever, but I'll be sending a complain to the Captain about this"

She continued to smile, "And you have a wonderful day as well Detective. Always a pleasure."

~~~

Less than ten minutes later, Akane, or rather Himiko had found a small alley way to quickly change and summon her "Wing Jet." Once dressed she drew her grappling hook gun and fired it at the roof top, and a second later she was swiftly pulled above the city sky line. Waiting atop the roof, it only took a few minutes for her super sonic personalised jet to arrive, not that anyone in the area would know with it's cloaking device.

Once aboard Himiko, now fully dressed as Shadow wing, contacted the new handler, "What's the Situation Sharpe?"

"We need you in Australia, we'll fill you in on the details as you fly." She immediately responded and with in seconds the auto-pilot was programmed and the jet was off. "Sending you pictures and videos of the current situation, now."

Shadow Wing narrowed her eyes beneath her cowl as she examined the information, "Interesting..."
"Whats wrong? You came here expecting to fight a madman, and instead found a god!?"
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Re: The Sentinels: From Little Acorns... [IC]

Postby insaniac99 » Mon Oct 01, 2012 1:34 pm

Aldwyn

(sometime between last adventure and arriving on scene for the monster attack)

"I spoke with my contacts about the Hand. They've been around for eight centuries, but their last big involvement was near the end of the first World War, when their five leaders were defeated. Everyone I've talked to says they've been barely active and a shadow of themselves since then. No one seems to know what their current plans are or what sort of resources they have. I would guess that this may be another revival attempt."


ooc wrote: not coloring text since it is all speech.
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