CATALYST: Welcome To The C.O.V.E.R.T. Program

[Ezikeel]

"...Can you hear me...?"
[btn=mode|https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/catalyst-ooc-and-signups.144702/|self]OOC / SIGNUP[/btn][btn=mode|https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/catalyst-welcome-to-the-c-o-v-e-r-t-program.144858/|self]IC[/btn]

"Good evening, and welcome to the premier broadcast of the COVERT Program."​

"...
That is, the CATALYST Operative Vital Education and Required Training Program-- COVERT for short. We're happy to have you tuning in.
Though, if you are listening to this broadcast right now, you've already been drafted into our organization and don't really have a choice in the matter. You may not remember the drafting process; in which case your memories of it were bound to compromise this organization and were therefore summarily cleaned.
You may even believe that you chose to listen to this broadcast of your own free will; but while you'll find, as a member of CATALYST, that most phenomena unexplained by science are true, free will is, in fact, a myth."

---

At the CATALYST Paranormal Investigation and Research Agency, or CPIRA for short, they were tasked with eliminating paranormal threats to national security, as well as to the general populace of the United States. There are many CPIRA outposts across the country, with small local staffs and some resources, for those times when something goes sour in their region and field agents have to be dispatched to their location. Most of the work, however, is handled from CPIRA HQ, located in an unassuming building on the outskirts of Washington DC.

The CATALYST team are a hardworking group of people who are the best that there is at the things that they do, both in regards to their work, and the things that they do in their free time. In fact, a large part of CPIRA's success is that they work very hard to ensure that every person is able to incorporate aspects of their life's greatest passion into the work that they do. However, even their great amount of tenacity and skill can be thwarted by stretching it too thin, and things were already going downhill for months before the team had any indication of why.​

Their already strained force was struggling under a sudden, drastic increase in workload. No one had seen the bottom of their IN box in months. No one had gotten adequate sleep in weeks. And then things started to get really interesting.

Suddenly, every psychic was beset with a constant feeling of impending doom. Every tarot reader could turn up nothing but Death, the Tower, and the Devil. Trying for any clarification of these vague warnings just gave them a mess of jumbled nonsense. Nothing of the sort had ever happened before, and because the mayhem was so widespread amongst their highly trained specialists, they could only assume that the warnings were as accurate as they could be. All they could do was try to prepare.

What does a government agency do when national security is at stake, and they don't have the manpower to adequately defend the country? Why, they enact a draft, of course.

The Personnel Director and his assistant spent months compiling data, doing background checks, and sending Operatives on recon missions, in order to curate a shortlist of people who fit the unique needs of their organization. Meanwhile, the Chronicles department was spending their time digging up old training documentation from the last round of mass hirings and attempting to update it. They spent many a sleepless night getting everything ready, hoping that their investment would pay off in the long run.

Finally, though, everything was ready. The CATALYST Operative Vital Education and Required Training program was ready to be put into action. The Handbook had been updated and plenty of copies were printed. They had lectures and training modules prepared. Some of the high-ranking Operatives who would be conducting the training had even come up with coursework to be done. All that was left was to gather the trainees...

---

[/hr]

 

[Ezikeel]

[fieldbox="MISSION ONE, red, solid"]Operation: L.A.R.G.O. [Locate And Retrieve Greenhorn Operatives]
Operatives: Virgil, X, D, TCTC, SERAF, ODYS, ???
Debriefing:
ATTN. OPERATIVES: You are to locate the specified individuals and tail them to learn their movements. Report back to HQ on findings. When data is compiled, the training program will commence. Ensure all O.I.T.s complete program and arrive safely at HQ.
Failure will not be tolerated.
[/fieldbox]

---

[fieldbox="D, plum, solid"]

Operative: D
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Seattle, Washington
Target: Kyoya Yamato (@Jihae)

Eight days, fourteen hours, and fifty seven minutes.
That is how long D, assistant leader of the Contention Department at CPIRA, had been trailing his target. While he recognized the value of training new Operatives, and knew he was the best man for the job in the case of this young man, he still felt as though his skills would have been best utilized somewhere else for the past week. He had faith in his junior Operatives that they could handle their cases in his and his supervisor's absences, but it was still very frustrating. If they didn't need the manpower so desperately, he would have fought a lot harder about going out there.
Nevertheless, the boy did show promise. They certainly hadn't made a poor choice, selecting him for the program. Barring extenuating circumstances, he was at the gym, or a court, or a sports field of some variety, every single day. That was certainly the mark of the kind of passionately dedicated person they were looking for. And, of course, all of that physical activity made him an ideal candidate for the Contention Department. It wasn't a requirement, of course, to be fit to fight monsters. Many of his junior Operatives used psychic powers or magic to fight and rarely, if ever, engaged an opponent in close-quarters combat. Having the skill was definitely a boon, though.
But the tailing period was over now. The appointed time had finally come, and it was time to begin the Program.
He lay silently in wait nearby as Kyoya Yamato, the man of the hour, left his home and locked the door behind him. While a simple lock may have been enough to discourage a common thief, it wouldn't serve to keep him out. Once the boy was well out of the area, D remained in position for another twenty minutes on the off chance that Kyoya broke routine and came right back. He didn't need a lot of time to do what he needed to do, but he needed at least a small window.
When he was sufficiently convinced that no one was going to come by and interrupt him, he quickly and quietly came out of cover, approaching his target's door with the sort of casual self-assurance that would make anyone who stumbled upon him believe that he was supposed to be there. The lockpick kit that he kept on his person at all times, tucked safely in the right hand cargo pocket of his pants, made quick work of Kyoya's meager home security. A quick survey of the young man's home revealed the location of his bedroom.
"Alright, kiddo," D said quietly to himself (despite the fact that he was only in his twenties, himself), "I hope you're ready for this."
As per instructions, he left three items on Kyoya's bed, placed carefully where they would be seen and noticed: a multi-channel radio which could not be turned off from this handset, a card, and a small black box which would not open until certain conditions had been met.
[/fieldbox]
[fieldbox="TCTC, lightblue, solid"]

Operative: TCTC
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Central Valley, California
Target: Godwin Orozco (@Pray4me)

What a lucky break.
For a little over a week, TCTC had been spending his time in sunny California, leisurely tailing his charge. His particular set of skills, the same skills which landed him his position as co-leader of the Communications Department, made this a nice, easy job for him. It was also a nice break. He didn't get out of the office very much, due to being the primary information relay through headquarters, so he was enjoying the opportunity to do some field work without having to worry that his usual duties were going unattended to. Certainly the junior Operative who'd been assigned to take over his spot during this mission wouldn't be quite as adept as him, but if they did a good job, he might be able to rope them into doing it more often from here on out... He appreciated the cushy, salaried desk job, especially as he was getting into middle age, but he did miss going out in the field.
The cigarette he was smoking had burned down to the filter (as his favorite comedian, Denis Leary, would say "that's where they put the heroin; only us real good smokers know that fucking secret.") so he stubbed it out on the railing of the stranger's balcony he'd been camping out on for the past few hours while they weren't home. He knew they wouldn't be back for a while. All he'd had to do was take off his gloves and touch a few things around the house, and his psychometry told him everything he needed to know about the people who lived there, their routines, and what they would be doing with their day. A skilled psychometer, like himself, could pick up on the little thoughts and emotions that people left behind on the things they touched in their daily lives.
That was also why it had been such an easy week for him. Honestly, he could have done the job in a couple days, but he and all the other Operatives assigned to the mission had been sent out at the same time. All he had to do was put his hands on Godwin's car, doorknob, and mailbox, and he knew everything he needed for his report on the first day, without really needing to follow him or even go in the house. Of course, proper trailing procedures were protocol, so he was obligated to follow the guy around anyway, but he could relax about it, at least.
Luckily, though, his tailing days were over for the time being. The time had come to get things a-rolling.
He had his boots (well-worn, brown leather cowboy boots that he'd had custom made) propped up on the railing and his hat pulled down low over his eyes to hide his face, with just enough of a view to keep a watch on Godwin's door. He waited a bit after the target had left for the day, just in case, then reluctantly got up from the comfy patio chair he'd been inhabiting. A quick survey of the area turned up no bystanders who might get suspicious, so he pushed the brim of his hat up with his palm and swung himself over the railing. He did a simple parkour roll as he landed to avoid doing any further damage to his knees, which had been taking a beating over his years of combat experience, then sauntered over to Mr. Orozco's residence and let himself in with a quick jiggle of a lockpick.
He already knew where to find the bedroom (he'd picked that up from the psychic signature on the doorknob), so he left his little care package arranged nicely on the bed and vamoosed.
"Good luck, lil' buddy. Yer a-gonna need it."[/fieldbox]
[fieldbox="SERAF, purple, solid"]

Operative: SERAF
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Portland, Oregon
Target: Eleanor Lee (@Jihae)

Oh, I could get used to this.
SERAF was sitting in a bustling shop filled with the delicious scents of doughnuts, both of the fried and baked varieties (she was partial to the fried, yeasty kind, herself). It was a quirky little place, called "Voodoo Doughnuts", and it suited her just fine. She was a little quirky, too, so she felt quite at home. From her seat, she could see the street her target frequented and keep an eye out for her. With any luck, Ms. Lee would be coming in to that very doughnut shop that afternoon. If not, SERAF would find an alternate plan of attack, but all of her divination methods pointed to it being highly likely that she'd be there.
On the one hand, SERAF was eager to get the training started. Eleanor seemed like a nice, interesting girl, and she was excited about being trusted with the new trainee. On the other hand, getting paid to hang out in all of the weird, hipstery shops in Portland was awfully nice. Still, this was her first really big mission she'd been trusted to do all on her own, and she was ready to get the show on the road.
She nibbled idly at her Diablos Rex and anxiously bounced her leg up and down, making the teeny-tiny bells on the end of her skirt jingle softly. She stopped abruptly when she noticed a nearby businessman glaring at her, and blushed. She really needed to work on the whole "going unnoticed" thing.
Snapping back to attention, she saw her target approaching the doughnut shop and grinned vulpinely. It was go time, at last.
When she sent in her report, with her plan of action attached, REC had done her the favor of drawing up some useful sigils for her. Designing them was certainly not her forte, but he was great at it and she was able to utilize them easily. She reached into her purse and pulled out a crisp one dollar bill and a green sharpie (green, so that it wouldn't be as noticeable once the bill got back into regular circulation). She quickly, yet neatly, scrawled the necessary sigil onto the bill, then kissed it to imbue it with her energy and intent. That done, she picked up the small gift bag at her feet, walked to the counter, and ordered another coffee.
"Hey, sweetie. I wanna order a coffee for my friend. She'll be in here in, like, literally just a minute, but I've really got to run. I'd also like you to give her this for me." She set the gift bag with the requisite items for her trainee in it on the counter. She placed a ten dollar bill on the counter, then reached across to grab the cashier's hand. "You can put the rest of that in the tip jar, but this is for you. Put it in your pocket." She pressed the sigilized dollar into his hand, activating the spell.
"O-oh. Right. Of course. Thank you, ma'am," the cashier stuttered a bit, compelled to do as she asked. The sigil would ensure that the bag got into the right hands, and also that the boy wouldn't remember a thing about her after she left. The bag was also sigilized, in such a way as to be activated when the intended target picked it up, so that Ms. Lee would be compelled to keep it and take it with her.
"No problem, sweetie! Have a great day, and thanks for your help!"
She grabbed her doughnut and her coffee and hustled out the door, disappearing into an alleyway just before Eleanor walked up.[/fieldbox]

---

((This is the front and back of the card.))

 

[Ezikeel]

[fieldbox="X, purple, solid"]

Operative: X
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: New York
Target: Aimi Chiyoko (@Kitt)

It seems that it's time...
X took a long drink from his flask. Out of the last nine days, he had spent eighty-five hours keeping tabs on one Aimi Chiyoko, the OIT that he'd been assigned to collect. And out of those eighty-five hours, she had spent approximately sixty of them in her house. This was, of course, not counting the late nights / early mornings when she was asleep (or, when normal people would be asleep, at least) when he would obviously expect her to be in her home. No, that was sixty hours of daylight that she did not leave her home. It took him five days to collect enough data on her movements to send a report back to HQ. According to the reports he'd seen, everyone else was having a nice, easy time of it. And, of course, TCTC was treating it like a vacation.
There were worse places to be stationed, for sure. He should count himself lucky that he wasn't sent to Alaska. But it was still frustrating that he was stuck there, sitting in a cramped little rental car, staring at an unchanging door for twelve hours a day.
Still, the day had come to take action, and action he would take. She didn't seem to be leaving her home any time soon, so he would have to take a little bit of an unconventional approach to things, this time. Luckily, he had spent his ample free time over the past several days preparing a strategy for just such an occasion.
He pulled the car around the corner, where she wouldn't be able to see it if she were to look outside, then walked to either end of her street and put down chalk sigils, charged with his intent, such that her postal carrier would conveniently "forget" to deliver mail to this relay. That accomplished, he returned to the car and removed the set of items he was o deliver from the spare tire compartment under the lining of the trunk, where he had been keeping them safely hidden. They went into one of the free flat-rate boxes that were available at the post office, and he sealed it neatly with packing tape. In sharpie, he wrote her mailing address, leaving the return address space blank. Then, to complete it, he drew a small sigil in the top right corner of the box to encourage her to ignore the lack of return address, postage, or postmark. After that, it was easy to simply walk up to her door, leave the package in clear view, ring the bell, and disappear. He would wait in the car until he needed to act again.
Let us hope that this goes more smoothly than the rest of this week has.[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="ODYS, gray, solid"]

Operative: ODYS
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Colorado
Target: Matthew Fredricks (@TragicTrees)

Oh man, this is gonna be so great!
ODYS was excited. She was always excited, but she was especially excited about this day. It was the day when she would finally get to meet her trainee and expose him to the wonderful world of life as a secret government monster hunter. Like, how freaking cool was that?! She was sure that he would be excited, too.
And what was there to not be excited about? She loved her job. After all, she'd managed to get his routine down in the first few days there, so she (secretly) took the previous day off and went skiing. Honestly, how could you go to Colorado, and not ski? Sure, she wasn't supposed to do stuff like that, but when your job takes you all over the country, you gotta take advantage of that.
But today, there would be no unapproved time off. Nope. Today was special. Today was important. Today was THE day, and she was gonna milk it for all the excitement it was worth.
She knew he'd be leaving for work soon (his work, of course, being the already super cool job of performing magic on the street), and she was ready for him. Her Empathy channel was wide open, and she could feel him working himself up to get ready for the day, so it was just about time. She couldn't start too early, or it wouldn't work; but she couldn't wait too long, or he'd see her and that would just ruin the whole mystery. Secret government agents had to be mysterious, it was, like, a requirement.
Wait for it... Wait for it... NOW!
From her vantage point on a hill above his home, she leapt to her feet just as he opened the door and sent up a prayer to the Huntress, Artemis. It was going to be a tough shot, but with the blessing of Artemis Iocheaira, She of the Showering Arrows, ODYS had no doubt she could make it happen.
There was naught but a split second between when she reached her feet, and when she let the massive arrow fly from her equally massive bow, which the Gods only knew how she had the strength to fire, and as soon as it was loose, she launched herself down the hill to her car and beat a swift retreat.
Meanwhile, the arrow, with at least a two-inch diameter to the shaft, thudded into the side of the building, right above Matthew's door, with enough force to make the whole place shudder. A box, tied to the shaft, was jolted loose and fell to the ground at the man's feet. There was a clicking, and then a second later a spring released in the box, popping the top open, from which sprouted a second box, painted with bright colors, attached to a spring. Matthew Fredricks' name was scrawled across the front in purple glitter. Within that box were the three things he would need to start his new, amazing secret agent life.[/fieldbox]

 

[Kitt]

CORIX

Status: Healthy
Location: Upstate New York ​

Aimi Chiyoko could be described as many things, but a socialite was not one of them. Why go out and party, when you could stay in the safety of your own home? Every week, Aimi dedicated herself to one project. This week was dedicated to research on one of her favorite topics; cults. Oh, boy, if you got her started on that, she'd never stop until she ran herself out of energy. Easily one of her favorite topics. So, she naturally didn't leave her home anytime during the course of that. Her routine was simple; eat, sleep, work. Not that she got paid to do her research. It was more of a... hobby, you might say. One that she was a little too interested in, some could argue. Her existence in this neverending loop wasn't healthy! She had no real connections outside of others online who share her interests. Well, that suited Aimi just fine. She didn't care for people that much anyways. And so, she continued onward in her quest to sate her own thirst for knowledge.

However, her pattern was interrupted one day by the ringing of her doorbell. The sudden noise caused Aimi's constant typing to stop momentarily, then resume. She could get the package later, after she finished this quick paragraph. Who was even mailing her a package? She wasn't told about this. How did she know it was even a package? What if she was leaving some person out on the porch? More thoughts regarding the uncertainty of the thing on her porch and its' contents swirled in her head for a few moments more, before she let out a small noise of irritation and got up from her desk.

Her little house wasn't much of a house. It was more of an apartment, and she liked it that way. When you live alone, you don't need much space. That's what Aimi thought, anyways. The small area was quite the mess; with papers and old coffee cups spread out on the coffee table, to the mound of blankets on the couch she called a bed after long nights researching, it looked more like a dorm than the apartment of a 25 year old college dropout. Not that it really bothered her; made the house more cozy, in her opinion. Stop thinking about your house, she scolded herself. Go get that package, or whatever is outside.

And so, she opened the front door and finds a small package. At least it's not a person. That would've been weirder. Picking up the small box, she observed the immediate details; her name and mailing address were written on there, yes, but where was the return address? Oh well. It's probably some kind of junk mail. Upon further examination, Aimi discovered, there was a bit more to it than that. Hidden up in the corner was a small symbol, which she had seen before. Well, not that exact one, of course, but a similar type of script. She smiled. Seems that all of her research was finally paying off in an interesting way.

 

[TragicTrees]

Matthew Fredricks​

Matty, of course, stumbled back with a small scream "What the everloving fuck." He exclaimed, rather surprised. He wasn't exactly expecting a random box to fall at his feet, and....produce another box. That didn't normally happen. And the arrow? That was certainly a feature that was slightly threatening. Slowly, he bent down to open the box. It was cautious, though, because he wasn't sure what was in it.

The possibilities were endless. Actually, no, that was a bit of a lie. They were limited to what could possibly be in the box, but it could still harm him. A bomb, for example. That would injure him and quite possibly the building he was nearby. However, he was pretty damn curious as to what was inside, so he was willing to overlook the dangers. Besides, it was his box, it had his name on it. The arrow could've just shot HIM if the person wanted him dead, and that would be that.

However, they didn't, and so he could assume they didn't want him dead. He wouldn't understand why they would, anyway. He was a lousy old street magician. He also wasn't sure what all the sparkles were about either, or why this....package was sent to him in particular.

So, he opened it. He just went for it. Curiosity killed the cat, and satisfaction brought it back, so everything should be fine. Hopefully, anyway. Maybe it would even work out in his favor. Maybe this was a job offer. A oddly delivered one, sure, but it would be something either way, if it turned out to be such. Besides, this added excitement into his life, right? Right? He should be happy to have a arrow shooting into his doorway to deliver a sparkly package directly to him.

 

[Ezikeel]

[fieldbox="X, purple, solid"]

Operative: X
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Upstate New York
Target: Aimi Chiyoko (@Kitt)

Inside of the package, as with all the similar packages his peers would be delivering to their respective targets that day, were three items. One: a multichannel radio. It would allow three microfrequencies to speak in tandem across great distance. Therefore, he could speak to Aimi from his matching handset, and they could both receive messages from Headquarters that were broadcast over the training frequency. Two: a small card. On one side was a quote. "Secrets have a way of making themselves felt, even before you know there's a secret." It was a quote from one Jean Ferris, from her book Once Upon A Marigold. On the other side of the card were a selection of alchemical symbols surrounding a seemingly plain white square. Three: a small, black cube, about the size of an average person's palm, with no discernible way to open it.

X watched from a safe vantage point until Ms. Chiyoko poked her head out and took the package inside. After what seemed like an appropriate amount of time for her to have opened said package, he pressed a button which would begin to page her radio handset. There was no way for her to turn the handset off without the rest of the set, so she would have to either answer the page or somehow dispose of the handset. He was there to make sure that she did not choose option two.[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="ODYS, gray, solid"]

Operative: ODYS
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Colorado
Target: Matthew Fredricks (@TragicTrees)

ODYS breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled her car around the curve. She could see her target's house from there, and he had picked up his box (which she had decorated very nicely, if she did say so herself). That was a very good sign. With any luck, he'd play along with the plan and she wouldn't have to step in to "encourage" him at all.

She watched through bedazzled binoculars as Matthew opened his box and examined the items within. There were three, of course. She may have had creative license to deliver the package as she saw fit, but the contents had to be the same for all of the OITs. One multichannel radio, which he couldn't turn off, so that she and HQ could give him directions. One deliberately cryptic calling card with an obtuse quote on one side and weird alchemical symbols on the other. And one little black cube that he couldn't do anything with, yet.

Since she knew he had the package, she could go ahead and begin Phase Two. With a press of a button, Matthew's handset began to beep, and a light above the single button on it began to blink on and off.[/fieldbox]

 

[TragicTrees]

Matthew Fredricks​

Matty fumbled with the handset a bit, confused. He assumed anyone would be, really. He had just actually gotten up from bed, was surprised with a box carrying arrow, and now a handset was beeping at him. He assumed he had to press the button, since the light kept blinking. That was the logical conclusion, right? And, assuming he did this, maybe it would clear up what this was all about.

He doubted it, though, because he thought the same would happen with the box, and here he was now, still confused as ever. He didn't have an eye-opening experience when he saw what was in the box, and pressing a button was much less likely to do it. He could try, though, and that was that. Maybe he'd get something out of it. Who knew? Probably the person that set this up, but now wasn't the time to think that over.

So, he pressed the button, thinking over how stupid he must've looked to anyone standing on the street. The headlines would read 'Man Stands In Street Freaking Out Over Box'. Or maybe 'Man Dies Because Curiosity Murdered Him'. Something along the lines of those two, possibly even in between. It depended on whether or not this was some sort of bomb or not. It could be, but, again, he wouldn't see the purpose of it. His last moments would probably be him pondering over what the meaning of it was.

 

[MUSΞ]

Godwin Orozco
​

Kicking the passenger side door of a badly homemade paint job of a black Corolla, Godwin struggled to keep the signs and posters of his cause in his large arms. Each rolled piece of poster paper fought to escape his grasp, all the way to the front door, passed his living room, and down the hall to the bedroom until they won the battle. Godwin let out a tired groan as the signs and posters fell all over his bed and floor, almost symbolizing his failed rally of support for farmers and workers cause.

Some signs had black spray paint over the words of truth and encouragement. Others looked they were kicked and stabbed with knives in the center while others were rudely handed back to him after trying to pass them out. He shook his head and let out loud exhale, rubbing his face down hard with calloused hands at the mess around his bedroom.

"I'm sick of this shit!" Godwin huffed as the threw the posters and signs off the bed, his hair in a sweaty, matted mess. "...the hell is this?"

Resting on top of a plain beige comforter, was a nicely wrapped package, the cleanest item in a room full of thrown clothes, rags, gauze and boxing gloves. Raising a brow, Godwin lifted the box higher than his head to investigate the bottom of it before bringing it to his ear to give it a good shake. It wouldn't shock him if it was some sort of bomb. From his years of rallying both legal and illegal farm workers, pressured farms to comply with illogical government standards, and now the new water crisis that was affecting the whole Central Valley, he had his share of serious and death threats. At first, Godwin found the threats nerving, but with each passing year of nothing too bad happening, he saw them more of an annoyance.

People talk big, but few ever follow through.

"...," Godwin dropped the box and swiftly picked up the worn white boxing gloves and slipped them on effortlessly. "If you're still in here I'm coming."

He began to patrol his house his grandmother left him, pulling the string on a glove tightly with his teeth. The house was a simple hacienda ranch style, dark like a cave, and still having his grandmother's old furniture. The only new technology came from the wall mounted T.V, a surround sound system, a few gaming consoles, and upgraded appliances in the corner kitchen.

When the house was cleared, Godwin stepped outside the front door and to his small porch, glaring with piercing eyes through his hair that fell over, his sweat tinged skin sparkling in the afternoon sun as he first looked down each direction of the street and then to the apartment across.

Sucking his teeth, Godwin re-entered his house and locked the door.​

 

[Ezikeel]

[fieldbox="ODYS, gray, solid"]

Operative: ODYS
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Colorado
Target: Matthew Fredricks (@TragicTrees)

ODYS squealed eagerly when she heard the beep that accompanied Matthew answering her page. She took a moment to calm and center herself before replying. She had to maintain a level of professionalism while she was on the job. It was literally rule number two in the handbook.

"Hello, Matthew," she said cheerfully. "Why don't you go back inside, so we can have this conversation privately?"[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezikeel]

[fieldbox="TCTC, lightblue, solid"]

Operative: TCTC
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Central Valley, California
Target: Godwin Orozco (@Pray4me)

From his vantage point, where he was watching Godwin's little hacienda through a pair of old binoculars, TCTC only saw the very beginning and very end of that little event. Godwin went in the house with his armload of materials. Godwin came out of the house in a pair of boxing gloves, then locked the door behind him. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened in the intervening time. TCTC figured he'd probably gotten one of the feistier OIT's, but he was pretty confident that he'd get the guy to come along quietly. After all, they ultimately wanted the same thing: to protect people. Their methods, and their particular causes, may have been different, but it all boiled down to the same things.

He waited long enough that, with luck, Godwin would have gone back to his room to check out the package. He got the feelings that Mr. Orozco wouldn't take kindly to a beeping box in his bedroom, and decided to skip the paging all together. Setting aside his binoculars, he rolled over onto his back and brought his radio handset up to his face

"Mr. Orozco? Howdy. I ain't meanin' you no harm, so you can take off the boxing gloves. I just wanna talk. So, pick up the radio, if ya wouldn't mind."[/fieldbox]

 

[TragicTrees]

Matthew Fredricks​

Slowly, Matty backed into his house, eyeing the device in his hands. This was just downright odd. The person on the other end knew his name. It was on the box, sure, but it was still creepy. Stalker? Maybe. Didn't seem like it, though. They probably wouldn't give him this if they were a stalker. He was sure he could figure out what the hell was going on once he answered whoever was on this line, though, so he was going to do it and he was going to do it now. He shut the door in front of him, so it wasn't left open for all to see.

".....Hi, mysterious voice that knows my name." He replied cautiously, running his free hand through his hair as he spoke "What the fuck's up with you? Seriously. Who are you?"

 

[MUSΞ]

Godwin Orozco​

Closing the bedroom door behind him, Godwin sat on the edge of the bed with the package resting on his lap, staring curiously at it. Cautiously, he unwrapped it and opened it in time to get a page from the radio inside. He threw the package out of instinct across the room and into the wall, it creating a small dent.

His eyes narrowed, letting the page go silent for a few good minutes, before creeping over to the fallen package and picking up the receiver.

"Hell-" his thumb double pressed the button to send the message, cutting him off temporarily. "...fuckin' gloves."

Shuffling noises went through before another pause. Godwin returned with deep, exhausted breaths.

"If this is some type of weird 'interview' method, I have the right to decline and I want no further questions from you, whatever media source you're working with, and stay the fuck away from my house. This is your only warning and I have the right to defend myself and my property if you return."

Godwin picked up the pager and walked over to his window, lifting up the blinds with two fingers to peer outside. A part of him felt almost rewarded by whatever this message was after the crappy day he was having. Maybe all his efforts for the people were finally paying off and getting him the media attention he needed. But, this wasn't the way he pictured being more in the news. Usually, the only spotlight he ever got were from local and high school papers that never reached outside the Central Valley. His efforts weren't even worth trending on social media.

He imagined having a sit down interview with a top reporter, not from some weird call off a two way page machine.

"Thank you for the interest. Have a good day," Godwin ended to give time for the man to respond.

 

[Ezikeel]

[Fieldbox="ODYS, gray, solid"]

Operative: ODYS
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Colorado
Target: Matthew Fredricks (@TragicTrees)

"Well..." she said through the radio. "You can call me ODYS. Obviously that's not my real name, but in my line of business we don't give out our real names. Speaking of which, that's actually exactly why I'm here! My line of work, I mean."

She set her binoculars down on the dashboard. As the light clouds in the sky rolled past, the sun scintillated off of the sequins she'd glued onto them and cast little colorful dots of light over the interior of her car. Obviously these weren't the ideal binoculars for, like, actual field missions where she'd be fighting something, but since this mission was pretty laid-back she'd taken the opportunity to use the cute ones. She had worked really hard on making them cute, and very rarely got the chance to put them to use.

"I work for the government, you see. Like, top secret stuff. I can't actually tell you a whole lot just yet. That's my supervisor's job for later. But, the important thing here is that my agency is very short of people for a very important upcoming mission, and we need people like you. It pays really well, and you get to be a freaking secret government agent, aaaaaaaaaand you also kinda don't have a choice in the matter, cuz you've been drafted. So, yanno, might as well make the best of it, right?"

As she spoke, she made exaggerated hand gestures for nobody's benefit but her own. "So, whaddaya say, Matthew? Matt? Can I call you Matt? I'm gonna call you Matt." She grinned briefly in the direction of his house. "Are you gonna come quietly? It'll be way more fun if you do."[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="TCTC, lightblue, solid"]

Operative: TCTC
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Central Valley, California
Target: Godwin Orozco (@Pray4me)

"Ain't no reason to be so hostile, Mr. Orozco. I ain't here to interview ya. I ain't here to cause you no harm. I'm here because you been selected to do a very important job." He let go of the button briefly to light a cigarette, and took a drag before continuing. "See, I work for the government, Mr. Orozco. I can't tell ya exactly what I do, at least not just yet, but me an' my people do a lot of hard work to protect common folks. We've seen the lengths you go to fer the common folks 'round here, and we want you to bring yer skills to work fer us."

"I say 'want', but, really, Mr. Orozco, ya ain't got much choice in the matter. Y'see, my bosses done picked you out for our training program, an' legally speakin', you've been drafted. Yer welcome to try to dodge the draft, but that's historically not turned out too well for people. 'Sides, we just wanna pay you good money to do the kinds 'a things yer already doin. I can even talk to my bosses and get government intervention out here fer yer farmers 'n everybody, so that you don't gotta feel like yer abandonin' 'em."

"So, whaddaya say? You gonna give me a chance? Or do we gotta do this the hard way?"[/fieldbox]

 

[Ezikeel]

[fieldbox="CRYPT, plum, solid"]

Operative: CRYPT
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Azure, Montana
Target: Nikolai Luzchezke (@HellHoundWoof)

CRYPT was not a woman built for outdoorsmanship. She had never been to Montana before, either, which was just further complicating things. She'd been trying to quietly track her target for the past week, but she was sure that, with his abilities and her relative incompetence at this, he probably already knew she was there. Perhaps it would be better to just approach him directly, but she would need permission from the mission leader in order to do that and she just didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of someone so important. He was a really nice guy, but something about him was just off-putting for her and... And she would just keep up her current tactics. If she were lucky, Mr. Luzchezke would come to her, and then she wouldn't need approval.

As she was walking from her own camp to where Nikolai's currently was, her hijab snagged on a branch and she scrambled to dislodge it and re-situate it on her head. She dropped the bag she was carrying with his OIT package in it, and just sat down on the ground.

"I hate this! Camping is stupid!"[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="QUSTN, red, solid"]

Operative: QUSTN
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Lafayette, Indiana
Target: Stephen Fawkes (@ASharedNarrative)

For being practically a rookie herself, QUSTN felt like she'd been given one of the hardest OITs of the bunch. He just never stayed in one place long enough for her to get a sense of "routine" from him. Plus, she wasn't like some of the other Operatives on this mission; she had no supernatural powers. She was just good at fighting and researching things, neither of which were skills that were coming in handy on this mission. She'd already called back to HQ several times for advice, and basically been told 'just do whatever you must'. And so, she had finally decided to follow their advice.

She had a data sheet on him, which contained all of his essential info; his name, address, phone numbers, SSN - anything a government agent might need to force someone into doing what was needed. Something on there had to be able to do the trick with this guy. She was absolutely going to be breaking rules, but they had, after all, told her to do "whatever she must".

Mr. Fawkes moved around too much to really keep track of, but he did have one permanent residence in Lafayette, Indiana, just off of Purdue University's campus. That was going to be her key to get him to work with her.

She parked her car out front of the house, not bothering to hide it, and walked up to the door with purpose. D and COR had taught her a lot when she first started with CPIRA, and one of the most important lessons she had learned was that if you looked like you belonged somewhere and knew what you were doing, then most people wouldn't pay you any attention. With that in mind, she casually slipped her lockpick kit out of her skirt poscket (all skirts should have pockets, she believed) as she approached the door, and let herself in.

She surveyed the house quickly, noting where all the doors and windows were, in case she needed to get out quickly, and headed into the kitchen area where, as expected, she found a landline phone - corded, so it would work even in emergencies. She sat herself down in one of Mr. Fawkes' kitchen chairs, pulled out his info sheet, and picked up the phone. She had to get him in line, today. Failure would not be tolerated.

She dialed the number on the sheet listed as his cell phone, and listened to it ring. Hopefully he would notice, as soon as he saw the incoming call, that it was coming from his supposedly vacant house.[/fieldbox]

 

[Kitt]

CORIX

| Status: Healthy |
| Location: Upstate New York |​

Aimi returned inside and plopped down at her disheveled desk once more. Time to open this box and discover what kind of shit she got herself involved in this time. Last time something mysterious arrived at her house, it turned out to be a death threat from some kid online that didn't like her post. This time, she hoped, it would be something more interesting.

The girl cut open the top and dumped it out on the table, revealing three small objects. Almost immediately afterwards, one of the items, a walkie-talkie, began to beep. Greeeeaat. Ignoring the irritating noise for the time begin, she started to examine the other two.

The first object she looked at was a small cube that seemed it would fit in her palm. She picked it up, held it up right near her face, and squinted for a good ten seconds. Then, Aimi shrugged, tossed it back down onto the table, and picked up the other thing.It turned out to be some kind of business card, except it had a quote on the back and some more of those runes on the front. "Secrets have a way of making themselves felt, even before you know there's a secret," she read aloud. "Huh." Aimi huffed, setting the card down, a bit more gently than she did the cube. Now, to deal with the walkie talkie.

Tentatively, she raised the mic so it was directly in front of her face, took a deep breath, and pressed the button. "Heeeeeello?"

 

[ASharedNarrative]

Stephen Fawkes
Date: 2012-July-13
Location: Central Illinois, ~3 hours from Lafayette, Indiana

Incoming call…

1-270-0100…

One of the first things Stephen had done when moving in was to set the caller ID for the house phone. He never planned to call anyone from it, so they would never see his joke number on their phones, but the self-satisfied laugh it gave him at the time was worth it.

Stephen was feeling less than satisfied as his mobile buzzed on the table. He never planned on calling anyone from that number, and planned even less than that – less than never – to be called from it.

The call was unlikely a call from any of the LEOs he had irritated in the past years. Their MO was to sit and wait for you to come home, unsuspecting, and ambush you with a new pair of bracelets and a bunch of analysts with banker boxes and dollies for carrying said boxes out. That was the good news.

Incoming call…

1-270-0100…

The phone continued to vibrate against the plastic table's surface there in the truck stop. A few irritated looks from other patrons of the attached restaurant was all the encouragement Stephen needed to flip his phone face-down to stop the vibration, and then back up to watch the notification of an incoming call display on the screen, from a number he never expected to use to a number that no one had.

Lunch was over at that point. While the ellipses repeatedly grew like a tail after the phone number and the incoming call light blinked in the top corner of the handset, Stephen wadded up the wax paper that had wrapped his sandwich and dropped it on the tray next to the remaineder of french fries long grown cold. The tray went behind his laptop, as he pulled that to the edge of the table. He triggered his VPN service and started working while it connected.

As the laptop went through the routines of connecting, he grabbed the larger of the two tablets that was stacked next to his food tray, and opened an app for monitoring the IP cameras he'd placed in the house. The cameras had never recorded anything when Stephen wasn't home, because no one was ever home when he wasn't. He'd impulse purchased the setup, and installed them since the money had already been spent, and there was no other way to justify it.

Incoming call…

1-270-0100…

REJECT

The VPN connected about the same time the cameras did. The wireless access wasn't bad. For a truck stop.

Scanning the cameras, he saw the woman who had broken into his home, looking at the handset in the kitchen. The only things out of place were an extra paper on the kitchen table that was unreadable in the camera's consumer resolution ...should have sprung for the commercial-grade… in front of the chair that obviously had been where she sat before getting up to dial, and the woman herself.

There wouldn't be much time before she decided to call back, once she realized that it wasn't a bad connection, but his rejection of the call. Time to get a make a power play, and see if he could catch her off guard.

While he waited those few seconds for her to hang the handset back in the cradle, he made a few gestures over the app, and took her picture off the footage from her breaking in and going through his place. A facial search would take hours or days, since he didn't have access to the right systems, and accessing them was entirely too risky a venture if he was going to keep his profile as low as it currently was. There wasn't anything wrong in starting the slower process now, though.

Stephen sub-vocalized for his Bluetooth earpiece to redial the house as he watched her hang it in place. While the phone auto-dialed, he turned to his laptop, and brought up several command windows, and entering commands into them, holding off on the executing stroke of the enter key in any one of them. A glance at the tablet showed the woman stop abruptly with her hand over the receiver, but was unable to see if there was a larger reaction than that. The cameras had no audio, but it was clear she had not expected the phone to ring.

He was distracted a moment as someone came to bus the table, while the phone kept ringing in his ear. The chance to immediately read her reaction was gone, and he'd only be able to guess on how to control the conversation. If there was an advantage to push, this was the time.

The phone wasn't completely to her ear, but the microphone on his earpiece was quality, and he knew she'd hear every word, before she could offer a greeting. Stephen began triggering the various command windows on his laptop as he addressed her.

"I obviously have your attention, if you're calling me on this number from that phone. You have my attention now. You also have ten minutes to convince me not to disappear off the grid immediately after I doxx you and whoever you work for."

# # #​

 

[Jihae]

KYOYA YAMATO
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Seattle, Washington

Today was a fairly normal day for Kyoya Yamato, a man of remarkable physical strength. Although he didn't look as buff as a WWE wrestler, he sure could keep his ground when asked (or challenged) to do something physical. He was in his usual routine by 6AM.

Wake up.
Do any sort of toiletries.
Make and eat a healthy breakfast.
Eggs. Fruit. Goodness.
Vitamins.
Push-ups to get the blood flowing.
Get ready for the gym.

By that point it was 8AM, and the door was casually locked behind Kyoya without a second thought. Every time he headed and came back to and from a gym or a court of any sort, he always had the initiative to run. It was a calm morning, an easy morning. So what more could make his day than simple, calm, music for the run? The cool morning breeze always made the adrenaline in Kyoya's body flow throughout. It gave him more passion to work out, not like there wasn't enough passion to be athletic, anyways. By the time he got to the gym, he worked out even more. All the equipment, protein bars, machines, and recyclable water bottles were used; and Kyoya has not broken a single sweat. He would usually continue physical exertion until he breaks a sweat, more preferably, a water fountain. Each day he goes and exercises his stamina would grow, and it would take him a lot longer to release all the toxins in his body, as a body should. By the time he actually had a single drop of salt water pour from his body it was 12 in the afternoon.

Kyoya thought that he should have worked out more, but there was something in his gut that made him feel like going home. Hungry? Lazy? Either way, Kyoya left his local gym and took a slow jog home. Kyoya slowly reached his front door and turned the knob, entering his comfortable living space. But then he stopped after taking a single step into his home.

"Did I lock the door before I left?" he mumbled under his breath, becoming very cautious of his surroundings.
Kyoya quietly roamed his house with widened eyes, deep breaths, and a heavy heartbeat. The first room he decided to investigate was his bedroom. That's where most robbers would be, right? Kyoya walked up his white carpeted stairs and into his bedroom, the only place in the house with no sights of anything to prove that he works out except the banana chips left on his bedside table.

Kyoya's eyes soon fixated on three objects. A slip of paper, a black box, and a radio. He walked slowly towards the items in a curious manner before ever forgetting the fact that someone was probably in the house to kill him. Large hands inspected the three objects with surprising gentleness. Kyoya read the card quickly, inspecting the silly little symbols on the back while running his thumb over the white square, for whatever reason than to do so out of curiosity.

The box was next on his list, Kyoya's first instinct was to shake the box in case there was something in it, leaving the radio unattended, Kyoya kept shaking the box like a protein shake while taking the card in his other available hand, wondering what on this round Earth could he possibly do with the objects laid before him.​

 

[TragicTrees]

Matthew Fredricks
​

Matty was silent for a moment, before he ducked away from the windows and went to sit in a corner, pressing his back against the old and dusty floral wallpaper. He really wasn't too keen on being watched in his own house, so this person- ODYS, what type of code name was that? -would have to deal with it. He didn't particularly believe that ODYS was from the government, as that seemed suspicious, but she didn't kill him, so that ought to count for something. That was on one piece to it all, though, so he wasn't about to trust her right off the bat. After all, he was just basically threatened. People didn't threaten people for shits and giggles. People threatened people because they wanted the threatened person to do something, and Matty didn't like being forced into things.

He also wasn't sure how he'd even gotten on the governments radar, if it was the government, because he was a nobody. He was a street magician, and that wasn't much of a job. He was pretty sure the person who rented this house to him only did it out of pity. Sure, yes, he could use a gun pretty well, and that was because his dad took him hunting once every month since he was 7, but that was personal stuff. He didn't make a job out of it, so they shouldn't know about it. The only thing he could think of that would get him here was a random draft of sorts, and he never heard of something like that happening. Maybe he was wrong, though, that might be how it normally worked.

But the idea of it was pretty cool. Government agent? It was like it was straight out of the movies he watched. More reason to be suspicious, but he had to admire the glamour of it all. Maybe he'd get really neat tools. He had always wanted a grappling hook. Or a head set. Something cool, technology wise. But the grappling hook was at the top of that list, because it was pretty sweet. If they had one of those, he was totally on board with this, government agency or not.

".....I'm usually called Matty." He replied, after a few moments of silence he had used to practically drool over the thought of having a grappling hook, "But, yea, sure. Matt. Woohoo. Now that that's out of the way...." He cleared his throat, before going on "Anyway, you've given me a offer I can't refuse. I mean, I literally can't. What's up with that? You should have, like, a men-in-black memory eraser thing so you don't force people into this type of stuff, you know? But hey, whatever. If it pays well, I might as well be in. Whens initiation? Do I get a hazing? Because, let me tell you, college did not give those a good rep, so I'd pass on that little ritual if there is one."​

 

[MUSΞ]

Godwin Orozco

​

Godwin flicked his lower lip as he listened to the man, thoughts swirling in his head. Whoever this man was worked for the government and whoever he was spoke of Godwin's good work for the farmers and workers of the Central Valley. Was his efforts really getting the attention they deserved? Was he being offered a government job to help those of the Central Valley live and work fairly? This was what Godwin always dreamed, to be in a higher position where his words could be broadcast further than they were now. A legit position in the government where he had more tools and to earn the people's trust better to further his goal of making life fairer for everyone.

He tapped his finger on the receiver, pacing around the room as a small smile was beginning to form on his face. As a kid, he took school field trips to the mayor's office in Fresno where he saw photographs and portraits of all the officials who helped farmers and workers. He knew someday his photo would be taken and placed next to those men and women who dedicated their lives for their efforts.

"...drafted?" Godwin's daydream instantly shattered at the word. "Who the fuck are you telling me I'm drafted? Last I heard, no armed forces were drafting at this or anytime in the near future. This has to be a joke. You're a joke."

Godwin tightened his grip around the receiver, letting go of the button to take in several deep, nervous breaths. This was all too unreal, too unbelievable to take seriously. It had to be some sort of elaborate joke or maybe some dumb social experiment he's been seeing around the Internet. There was no way he was being contacted by some government official working for some secret agency that no citizen knew about. That's T.V stuff.

He stepped away from the window, the hundreds of conspiracy theories he's read and researched about popped into his head. Working, or working against the government some would say, Godwin was very familiar of the theories of secret government agencies working within known ones, spying and documenting on everyday citizens, gathering information for some unknown purpose. It would be a long stretch if one of these theories turned out to be true and Godwin was lucky enough to be scouted by one of them.

Godwin pressed the button hard to speak.

"You can pick up this fax machine we're talking on at the post office. I don't want to keep 'government property'."

He slammed the receiver down onto the machine, giving his answer to the man's question. Godwin re-wrapped the machine as best he could in a hurry, and rushed to the living room as he struggled to grab his car keys in his pocket. While he was still fishy with the call he just got, any sane person would know that now would be the best time to get out the house.​

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

CRYPT

Operative: CRYPT
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Azure, Montana
Target: Nikolai Luzchezke (@HellHoundWoof)

CRYPT was not a woman built for outdoorsmanship. She had never been to Montana before, either, which was just further complicating things. She'd been trying to quietly track her target for the past week, but she was sure that, with his abilities and her relative incompetence at this, he probably already knew she was there. Perhaps it would be better to just approach him directly, but she would need permission from the mission leader in order to do that and she just didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of someone so important. He was a really nice guy, but something about him was just off-putting for her and... And she would just keep up her current tactics. If she were lucky, Mr. Luzchezke would come to her, and then she wouldn't need approval.

As she was walking from her own camp to where Nikolai's currently was, her hijab snagged on a branch and she scrambled to dislodge it and re-situate it on her head. She dropped the bag she was carrying with his OIT package in it, and just sat down on the ground.

"I hate this! Camping is stupid!"

Operative: HOUND
Date: July 13, 2012
Location: Azure, Montana

Nikolai had began his day like any other, he'd woken up from his tent and walked down to the stream to check his net. He'd caught a few smaller fish, and two cutthroat trouts. He took these fish back along with his net and began filleting these fish. He started a small fire and found his skillet in his bag. He set his breakfast into the skillet and pulled his knife from his boot. He began breaking apart the fish as it cooked and stirring it around. He had made some rice earlier in the week and found the tupper ware it rested in. He opened it with his teeth and set it beside the fire. He watched the fish in the pan and then heard a shout in the distance. He made out camping is stupid and almost laughed. He slid his knife back into his boot and stood, most people didnt come out this far. That was why he liked it out here. He quickly jogged towards the shout but made sure to take a decent birth around the side. He looked around and spotted woman wearing hijab sitting on the ground. Nikolai began rotated around her until he was coming in from behind her. He began slowly walking up behind her until he was less than 10 ft away from her. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Can I help you?"