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 Operation: Shadow Purge [CHICAGO: WEST SECTOR EVENT]

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Subject Post 1PostSubject: Operation: Shadow Purge [CHICAGO: WEST SECTOR EVENT]   Sun Oct 30, 2016 2:21 pm




«THE STATUS OF THIS THREAD»
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10/31/2416, 6:00 PM; CST Standard Time

The time is currently 6:00 PM CST time on Oct 31st, 2416. At the moment the city is in unrest. There are various fights taking place across the city, fires are rising up in the air and there seems to be hordes of infected fighting against the living. Your job is to figure out a way to resolve the incident. You can kill the infected, isolate them, cure them or whatever other way you can ease this outbreak.

http://www.platinumhearts.net/t16722-shadow-purge-zombie-infection-mission-chicago-america-protag-antag-neutral

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Subject Post 2PostSubject: Re: Operation: Shadow Purge [CHICAGO: WEST SECTOR EVENT]   Tue Nov 01, 2016 11:34 am


Mirja, The Mad Wolf





"Point to the ceiling, point to the floor, point to the window, point to the overwhelmingly large horde of zombies about the overrun this position~" Mirja's song was not exactly the best one to be singing in such a situation, but that was Mirja. She was not exactly the best one to be in such a situation, depending on who you asked. A loose Cannon is still a Cannon, but who knows were it may fire. And the grinning Wolf girl had some malicious intent behind her gleaming eyes.
"Ahh, America~! The land of Freedom and being Free. Here, you are so free you have the freedom to be eaten by a massive blob of zombie persons, who in turn had the freedom to be zombied in the first place" She gibbered to herself, before one of the forerunner zombies tried to bite her.

Mirja did not go in for such stuff on the first date, and so punched the zombie in the face hard enough for it's very head to be ripped off and skittered down the road.
"And I have the freedom to deny being turned into a zombie! So keep your fangs away from me, kiddo" She told him, kicking the body a little to make sure it was dead, as the horde continued to approach. Mirja picked up a piece of gravel, and readied it like she had seen some people do in that game they liked to play here. "Batter up!" She cried, before launching the piece of gravel at the zombie horde with titanic power, taking out several of the in a line as the first got smashed into the ones coming up behind them. It was a lovely thing to see, even if it was a frivolous thing which is really no good when faced down with a massive horde of flesh eating gits.

"Zombies. You are all like, guilt-free humans. I can kill you all and nobody is going to say a thing. No 'ohh, Mirja, you shouldn't tear peoples heads off just because they groped your ass' or anything like that. I get to kill, crush, and destroy, without consequence. Especially destroy. I'm going to bring the roof down on your heads! But shush, that's plans for later. Anyway, buckle up, Zombie Buggers" she told the horde, cracking her knuckles and grinning broadly, showing off her fangs. "Because I have a lot of repressed rage to vent"

It was probably Mirja's imagination, but the Zombie Horde suddenly seemed worried about their approach towards this singular ashen gray wolf girl.



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Subject Post 3PostSubject: Re: Operation: Shadow Purge [CHICAGO: WEST SECTOR EVENT]   Fri Nov 04, 2016 4:13 pm






Mirja was ready to give this zombie horde a good seeing too, with her fist, large rocks, and possibly a building or two, it depended on how she was feeling at that moment. However, before she could pull something like that off, some kid came flying in. Literally, flying. Which was impressive. Mirja could jump very high but she had an abject inability to fly in any way. His flight seemed to be from some sort of orb thing that was around his lower half, as if it was a saucer from another planet. The idea of aliens was something that appealed to Iko, but Mirja was more focused on the here and now.

He introduced himself as Rade. And the way he said it was as if he was unsure of his own name. Which, was double strange, but then Mirja was a wolf girl with a gem that spat fire, so strange was relative. His little flying machine ran out of juice and he landed on his back, giving Mirja a chance to look him over. Silver hair, blue eyes and a small frame, this kid was certainly not what Mirja expected to find out here. But, she was courteous, so she nodded.
"Nice to meet you Rade, I'm Mirja" she replied. Not giving her second name because the kid seemed to have trouble with his first, so her second might throw him for a loop. He then asked if she wanted to play a game, but before Mirja could reply, he looked to the zombies and muttered something about too many, before pulling out a watch and growing up a good few years, in a good few seconds.

"Well, that is a handy trick to have. But sure, I'd love to play that game, I'm pretty good at finishing things off" she quipped, cracking her knuckles, but then the kid - teen - went and launched earth spikes at them, which would totally have been cheating if Mirja didn't have her Damos Rune. "Well then, might want to clear the area, this is not really something that's got friendly fire off" she warned, and then totally missed the quip about things tasting good when Beetle jumped on her back like she was some equestrian wolf.

"Gahh! persons!" She exclaimed, before Beetle ran around to the side so she could see her, which made Mirja smile a bit. "Hey Beetle. How's it going?" she asked, but it was too late. The girl had already run off into the horde of zombies ready for pounding them into the dust. And Mirja could hardly let off her rune with the girl in the way.

"Looks like you have a new challenge, Rade. She's more for this sort of thing than I am anyway. Have fun. I'll make sure nothing terrible happens while you two are destroying vast swaths of zombies" She said, looking around for a tall building that would allow her to keep an overwatch of the situation. Sure punching zombies was fun on it's own, but too many cooks, and all that.

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Subject Post 6PostSubject: Re: Operation: Shadow Purge [CHICAGO: WEST SECTOR EVENT]   Wed Jan 18, 2017 3:21 pm

There is always a profit margin to be had; that's what some people will tell you. And the three very formally dressed individuals walking down the streets of Chicago at this very moment were very interested in profits. They went by many names, across many continents; they weren't hard to find per say, but nor was a sleeping bear hard to rouse. It was simply that most people didn't want these people snooping around, and doing what it was they did. Collateral damage was pretty much a given at this point.

The eldest of them walked a faint step ahead of the other two, and wore army fatigues that seemed almost like they were picked up from each and every nation; there were flags of dozens of countries, and clashing discordant colors that made him seem rather silly to behold. He had a beret on his head, colored red, and an assault rifle rested across his chest, held in place by a strap. He reached down to it, gently stroking a finger across the stock, and a small greenish-yellow gem placed just over the sight.

"Zombies. This is a new one. I daresay we might have struck a gold mine on this one, you two. Now we just need to ride it as deep as it can go."

"You can ride me, old man."

This one was a younger gentleman, looking perhaps thirty. His suit was not nearly as well-maintained as the elderly gentleman's, showing a few frayed spots here and there. There was a sense of benign neglect about it, as if the outfit was one he'd worn a long time, and simply didn't give much thought to anymore. He had an ipod in one hand, earbuds in one ear, and a look of perpetual boredom and distaste on his face. He flickered his gaze towards the elderly man for the faintest hint of a moment, and then smirked at the expression of distaste there.

There was no real sense of malice between the two, but rather a sense of routine. There was warmth and familiarity in their every word, and it was clear that whatever quarrels they were having were long-fought, and would continue to be fought for quite some time. Not passionately, and rapidly, like a burning bonfire; no, the animosity of these two burned like faint embers, always ready to be blown into a few faint sparks.

"Bernardt, what is it I keep telling you?"

"The mitochondria is the power house of the cell."

A pause. Both the elderly gentleman and the younger one stopped in their place; for the first time Bernardt rose his gaze, baring his teeth in a smirk, and lifting his brows as he took a step around his elder, and walking ahead.

"How many times did you have to practice that before you could say it on reflex in under a second?"

"Took me about three weeks."

"And you can't apply that work ethic to our business? Honestly, Bernardt. You'd be my best agent if you could just act a bit more seriously."

"Blow it out your ass, old man. I am your best agent, and I don't have to act seriously. You and I both know what I can do, no one else can."

"Why is it I'm always the voice of reason?"

The final of the three was a woman, standing quite tall compared to the other two. She was far from handsome, face too torn by burn marks and keloid scars to really be called pretty. Her nose was too sharp, tapering to a precise point that looked like it could've been used to skewer someone. Her cheeks were sunken, and in a few patches were still healing over from what looked like severe burns, or crippling cases of acne. The only striking thing about her were her eyes.

Her eyes were beautiful, to the point of driving men to tears. They were both a deep, soulful shade of green that smoldered and spoke of great, hideous truths. This was a woman who likely had been a real looker once upon a time, but had lost much of it over the course of time, and her work. Even now, the force of those eyes was notable.

"Most likely because you're the only one who doesn't join in on the banter, Milani. Bernardt and I were having a perfectly pleasant duel of wits, and it will not have any impact on our work here today."

As he said this, the elderly gentleman pointed his gun off to the side, firing off five bullets in a short, burping stacatto; their conversation had, it seemed, drawn the attention of a few dozen of the walking dead. He never even turned his head, simply pausing for a single second in the conversation as he blew the head off of three zombies, and knocked two more into shambling, hopping motions as their legs were torn to shreds like wet paper.

"Time is a factor, everybody. We will not split up, until we have a more comprehensive idea of what we're dealing with. Milani will set up a perimeter, and begin to attract more and more of the zombies to us. Bernardt will isolate them, and cut off any chance of communication and coordination. Then we will procure our wares, set them aside for safe keeping, and expand the perimeter. Remember that once we start, this work must be done in complete silence."

The elderly man rose his hand slowly, faintly, and gestured towards Bernardt slowly.

"Bernardt, do that thing you threaten to do every day all the time."

"Aye cap'n."

The young, lax looking gentleman finally seemed like he'd grown interested, curious. He reached down towards his ipod, tapping away at it a few times; as he did, he tilted it to the side, and one particular studded gem on the back seemed to flash for a split second, before the area around them began to fill with the faint noise of pianos, and guitars. Before it reached a real crescendo, a few last words could be heard.

"Is that-"

"Ayup."

"I'm flattered."

"Eh, broken clocks and all that."

"For once, I was thinking the exact same thing."

And then all hell broke loose, as the area around them, as an entire square mile of the city, was bombarded by the sound of music, and a very familiar, very old string of song. Windows shattered, zombies stumbled for a split second, and everyone present could feel the sound, shaking their very bones.

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