EquinoxSol x Powder

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by EquinoxSol, Dec 18, 2012.

  1. "Agent Michaels, come in," said her C.O., gesturing her in by opening the door wider and stepping back. She steps into the office, not waiting for an invitation to sit down. The man sat down at his chair, his thumb rubbing along the edge of a file. "Sir?" she asked, wondering why she had been summoned to his office.

    "Agent Michaels...Nadya, you're being put on an important assignment. Every year, one in three hundred and twenty-five people disappear without a trace. That's about the same as herd animals on the African savannah disappearing because of predators." He continues to tell her of her mission, that she was to find out who, or what, it is that is causing these disappearances, occasionally pushing up his glasses when they would fall down his nose.

    Finally, after what felt like hours of talking, she was dismissed, given free reign to any resources she needed. "I promise to do my best, sir," she tells him, right before she leaves, already thinking up ideas to figure it out.
     
  2. The cold wind nips at his face as stands hidden in the shadows. He should have worn a coat. He rubs his arms at his sides through his pockets and checks his watch. It was 11:57, and about time he arrived. This was his favorite part of the hunt. Waiting for the moment to strike. He had memorized his schedule, observed him at home, even found out what he liked and disliked. Humans are a species of habit. Every Tuesday night he would go to his buddy's house for poker, and leave by 12:00. Every single Tuesday. It was as if the world would end if he had to do it some other day. Quite the contrary, actually, because if he had he may have prolonged his death by a few days. He checks his watch again. 11:59. He hears a door open, and the man say his farewells to his friends. Little did he know they would be his final farewells.

    "Sid, come in," said his night father, gesturing him by opening the door wider and stepping back. He steps into the room as the dark one closes it behind him. The night father sits at his desk and presses the balls of his fingers together in mock thought. I guess vamps have their habits too.

    "Sid, you know I've always been proud of your work." He assured in his trademark deep voice. Sid bows formally with his hands at his sides. "Thank you, Father."

    "Yes, yes. Quite." His chair squeaks as he leans back. "I need you to do something of vital importance, and you're the only one I trust to do it. I'd do it myself, but I have foreign affairs to deal with at the moment." He leans back forward and rests his head on the back of his hand. "They're starting to investigate what we're doing. Finally. Apparently they caught on that it's a coordinated group making people disappear and not just random kidnappings and murders. I don't know anything about who they assigned - or how many people they assigned - to this investigation, but I want you to make sure it never leaves the dark of night, so to speak."

    Sid frowns at this nearly impossible task, but nods and bows regardless. "It is an honor, Father. I'll begin immediately." He says as he spins on his heel and opens the door.

    "Oh, and Sid?" He says with a pause. "Don't fail me again."

    Sid remains still for another moment before continuing forward out of the room, shutting the heavy iron door behind him.
     
  3. Nadya quickly got files on many of the disappearances, wanting to get the job done and over with as soon as possible. Knowing that creating a map of every single would be an impossible job, given that the disappearances were so far and few between, almost seemingly random in their placements. She was quickly able to rule out serial killings, given that there were rarely any bodies and the spaces between the settings of the killings. Besides that, whoever it was wasn't showing the signs of a real serial killer, like trying to taunt those pursuing them or being more 'Here I am, and you can't do anything about it,' like many were.

    Brushing her hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes, she examines all the files, trying to find similarities. Finding none, and knowing how difficult a job like this would be, she tried to calm herself down, leaning back in her chair, and brainstorming exactly how someone would be able to do something like this.

    It certainly couldn't be just one person. Some of the disappearances were within minutes of each other and on opposite sides of the earth! Sighing, deciding to call it a night, as she had managed to kill two hours already, she gathered her things and left, getting into her car, turning the ignition and sitting there, looking for a pack of gum she knew was in.
     
  4. Sid leans against the wall of his two room apartment. He fuckin' hates that guy. He gets the chills every time he visits. The killing intent he gets from him makes his calm attitude feel like a wild torrent. Sid shivers and crosses his arms. So cold...

    He gets up and moves across the room. So someone was seeking out the vamps, huh. He grabs a toothpick from his table on his way by and sticks it between his perfect teeth. He moves it around his mouth with his lips as he thinks. How does the Father even know this investigation is happening if he has no idea how many people, or who, is investigating? Shady. He sighs, the toothpick resting on his bottom lip. He opens the door to the bathroom and puts on a pair of gloves.

    "Okayy.... What do we have here." He brushes his forefinger along the filled bags and taps the one being filled. "Oh wow. 4 and still going? You're a tenacious guy aren't you?" He squats down and sits on his heels, resting his arms on his knees. In front of his is a man hanging upside down by his ankles. His neck is tapped and is steadily filling pint bags with his blood. Sid looks into his dull dilated eyes. He was barely alive. His hands tied and his mouth duct taped shut. It wasn't necessary at this point. He didn't have any energy to move. The only thing he could do at this point was see, breath, and think. "You know you're not doing yourself any favors by stayin' alive," Sid sighs, rolling the toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue.

    He stands up with a huff and takes his gloves off, leaving the bathroom. Maybe he could lure out whoever is investigating this thing somehow. He looks in the mirror on the outside of the bathroom and flats down a piece of his straight silver hair that was sticking up in the back. It was getting kind of long, slightly covering his ears and sticking out a bit in the front. He grunts disappointingly. He hates haircuts. Blades weren't really his thing anymore. He turns away and heads for his bed. It was almost 5 in the morning. Bedtime.
     
  5. Nadya eventually gets home, killing several hours with a much-needed sleep, waking up around noon-ish. Eating a quick lunch of an orange and coffee, not liking how the two tasted together but knowing that she'd need the caffeine and something else inside her if she was going to get any work done, she ate it anyways. Throwing the peels away, she sets up her files in her office adjacent to her bedroom.

    Sitting down on the chair that sat in front of her desk that was the home for her laptop, she powered it on, unlocking it with a slew of passwords, one to log on, another to decrypt it, and a third to unlock the wifi. Pulling up firefox, she researches various other disappearances where the people involved were never found, trying to see if it was possibly a large cult of some sort by making connections.

    She found none. It seemed like the disappearances were completely random, but it couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Taking notes with one hand while the other scrolls down a webpage, she curses when she realizes that her pen ran out of ink. Taking another one out from her pen jar, she rewrites everything she lost, before continuing.

    It seemed that every single disappearance was unrelated, random. She deemed that the only way to actually find out who was doing it would be to get kidnapped herself, but that would definitely be a terrible, final option. No, she decided. Only if there was nothing else she could do.
     
  6. Sid woke up around 5 in the afternoon. A solid 11 hours. He sits up, his necklace falling across his bare chest. He wasn't a morning person, so to speak. He rubs his head groggily and tries to get his vision back. He swings his legs out of bed and steps into his slippers. His apartment was always warm, his gas bill taking up the majority of his income. Right. The investigation.

    He picks another toothpick off of his table on his way to his bathroom. The bags weren't being filled anymore. Sid looks to the dried out corpse with apathy. He spins the toothpick around in his mouth. "Fourteen pints, huh?" He looks to the corpses dried out stare. "Hmph." He disposes of the body and cleans up the mess, then packs his fridge with the blood before hopping into the shower. The investigation, huh.

    He could lure them out by making his attack obvious, but it would risk them just going straight to their superiors. He needed something that would lure them out on their own, so he could quickly take care of it. He looks up and lets the lukewarm water flush down his sleepy face. He could fake an obvious motive. That way they'll try to guess the next target, and he could take them out at the scene. Fuck it. That's what he's going to do. He gets out of the shower and dries himself off enough to put his clothes on. Sid leaves the bathroom and makes his way to his wardrobe.
    He puts on some cheap jeans and pulls a plain black shirt over his head, looking in the mirror again to fix his hair. He grunts again. "I really need a haircut..."
     
  7. After a while of fruitless research, she stood up, eating again, before leaving, deciding that a walk wouldn't be amiss. Locking up her house, she goes outside, strolling along to a nearby park. It wasn't terribly crowded, something he was glad for. At least she could enjoy the remainder of the day in peace.

    Letting herself forget about work, not wanting to stress herself further. She couldn't stand such a large project. She figured it would be months before she actually got anywhere, and then longer to gather suspects. Stopping by a fountain towards the center of the park, she sits down at its edge, rolling her shoulders and sighing.
     
  8. Sid strolls through the empty park, his eyes darting around at the people, taking note of who was all visiting at this time. He memorizes the faces of all the people and adds them to his mental database. He takes a hand from his pocket and takes a gnawed toothpick from his mouth, flicking it away into the grass. He pulls a fresh new one from his pocket and rolls it around his mouth. He stops as a dog walks in front of him and sniffs his leg. He looks down and moves his toothpick out of his vision with his tongue. "What are you looking at?" Sid huffs. The dachshund wags his tail and barks. Sid hears heavy footsteps and looks up. The dog's master bounds up, smiling nervously,.

    "Ahaha! Sorry about that... The little guy got away from me..." He was out of breath, embarrassed. Sid's irritated expression changed to one of genuine modesty in a flash.

    "Oh don't worry about it. I'm a dog person." Sid quickly spits out assuredly, bending over to pet the dog. To dog licks his hand as he pets it's head.

    The man clips the leash back on the collar and jogs off with his dog, waving back to Sid. Sid gives a smile and a small wave before turning away and frowning again. Fuckin' hate dogs. He continues observing people and takes a seat at a nearby fountain. He sighs and bends between his knees, wiping his face with his hands.
     
  9. Feeling useless doing nothing, Nadya takes out her cell phone, taking discreet pictures of the people who passed her, figuring that every single person who passed her could be a part of the entire thing. Knowing that one person she could catch preforming the act could potentially lead her to the rest of them, she sends all the images to her email before deleting the ones on her phone.

    One man she couldn't quite catch. His back was turned to her as he exchanged words with a jogger and his dog and when he walked towards the fountain, there was no way she could get a shot of his entire face, which would be ideal. Frowning, she contemplates standing up and trying to take a picture of him by walking past the man or remaining there, hoping he would get up and walk past her. There were problems with both of her plans. In the first, he could see her taking a picture, or she'd mess it up and have to do it again, at which point he might get suspicious. Even if he was innocent, which she thought he was, he'd still call the police or something. And if he wasn't innocent, it might prompt him to do away with her. However, in the second, he might just decide to get up and leave before she can get a decent picture.

    Frowning, she stood up, heart pounding. Trying to appear casual, she walked around the fountain towards him, switching her phone to her other hand. However, just as she passes him, he bends over, head between his knees, thus ruining any chance at getting a picture. Waiting until she was out of earshot to curse, she mentally slapped herself, before sitting down near the same place she had sat at earlier.
     
  10. (You're clever, I like that a lot.)

    Sid takes his face out of his hands and leans on his knees. He could use the man that lost his dog just a moment ago. That wasn't the first time he'd seen him at the park. When he was pursuing his last victim, he had noticed the man a few of the times. Perfect. Sid shivers for a moment and pulls a flask out of his pocket, taking a swig and smacking his lips. The metallic taste is the best. He takes the toothpick out of his mouth and puts it in his pocket. He had forgotten to take it out before he took a swig. "Damn. Daddy's makin' me sloppy." If the toothpick ended up anywhere he didn't know, he was in deep shit. It had his AND the victims DNA. "That would be like Christmas."

    He sneezes and sniffles. "Ugh... I hate winter..." He should have just worn a coat. He stands up, putting his hands in his pocket and hugging himself with his elbows. As he passed the fountain on his way out of the park, he pulls another toothpick out of his pocket. As he pulls it out, he accidentally knocks the blood toothpick out. He notices as it's falling and frantically tries to catch it, misses, and picks it up. Standing up, a woman sitting at the fountain's eyes meet his. He smiles nervously and waves. "Aha... I hate litter bugs, y'know..." He stuffs it back in his pocket and walks away casually, heading out of the park. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He pricks a fresh toothpick into his finger through his pocket in anger. He had fucked up. It doesn't matter who saw it, someone had seen it. That lowers his chances of blending in drastically. It's risky, after he had been so careful.
     
  11. Her eyebrows rise as soon as she sees it. That toothpick was red! Even from this distance, she could see the color. Standing up as soon as the man had turned his back to her, she takes out her cell phone once more, finding Agent Greene's number and calling it. Greene was her direct C.O., and would want to know what she saw, even if it was nothing and she was overreacting.

    "Hello? Sir, I think I've got a suspect," she says immediately as he answers the phone.

    "Michaels? Who is it?"

    Nadya sighed, exasperated. "It's Agent Michaels."

    "No, not you, the suspect," he answered, and she pantomimed a facepalm to herself, gaining a couple strange looks from people.

    Nadya said, "It's this man I saw at the park...he had a...a bloody toothpick, sir. I think he might be what I need. I need--"

    "Wait," Greene interrupted her, "before you do anything, how are you sure? We don't need another lawsuit because you tackled some poor fellow to the ground because he had a red toothpick." Before she could reply, he had already killed the line.

    Taking the phone from her ear and stuffing it in her pocket, she searches the thin crowd for the man, deciding to follow him for any further evidence she might need to justify arresting him. Locating him, she walks slowly after him, cursing not having more people around. At least that way she might be able to hide among them and be less likely to be seen. Hanging back, so he wouldn't think that she was following him, she wishes she had clearance for a weapon.

    Something I'll definitely be getting soon, she thought to herself, mentally making a note for herself to apply for it later.

    ((Thank you ^^))
     
  12. He was being followed. FUCK. The mental panic was bad enough. He digs the toothpick deeper into his finger. He could play it off casually, but that would give her a fantastic chance to get a good look at his face. He listens to the footsteps behind him, memorizes the timing in her step and her gait. He continues out of the park, hearing the footsteps behind him at various distances. This sucks. He has no idea if she's armed or not or anything. He had only seen her twice, and has no idea what her occupation or background is. He decides to head for a higher traffic area and try to lose her. Killing her was of no means an option, and he curses himself for letting it cross his mind. He stands outside the park casually, as if he doesn't have a care, and looks around. Maybe downtown. There are plenty of people there. He makes a left and keeps his eyes forward, moving the toothpick around in his mouth.

    Now who was this woman behind him. He tries to remember her face. She looked like a hard worker. Simple, but devoted. He stops at a light, and crosses the street when it was his turn. Soon he was in a higher traffic area. Great. He walks around for about an hour, then dips into a restaurant for dinner. He's seated at a table, and he sinks into his seat, sighing.
     
  13. Still thinking that the man didn't know she was following him, Nadya watches him stand at the entrance to the park, frowning. As he led her through the city she tried to remain out of sight, wishing she could preform a five-man, where she and four others would shift out, but with Greene disbelieving her theory, there was little chance of that happening.

    Almost losing him a few times, she tries getting closer, frowning. Damn it. He seemed to be taking some sort of crazy route, to God only knows where. It was then that she realized that he knew she was trailing him. Finally seeing him duck into a restaurant, she cuts around the back, determined to catch him should he take the back exit.

    On the way, she looked through the lower windows, trying to spot him. Something was definitely up, and whether or not he was the man she was looking for, she didn't much care by now, knowing that anyone else she caught would only be icing on top of the key.
     
  14. Sid orders a steak, rare, and a beer. There's no way one person could keep up with him with the route he took. Sighing and brushing his hair back, he looks out the window, and jumps, the tiny hairs on his back standing on end. He lets his hair and hand fall, and turns away. She knew he was in there. Fuck it. This wasn't his first tango. Time to face the music. He turns back to the window and points to the woman, then curls his finger in, motioning her to join him.

    At once, he prepares a million excuses and thinks out ways the conversation could go and how he could turn it in his favor. He sighs again. "What's the worst that could happen," He breathes through the rim of his tall glass.
     
  15. Nearly jumping out of her skin when she realized she had been caught, she completely forgot to take a photo of his face, instead standing there like a dumbass looking at him. When she finally came to her senses, she frowns, but moves back to the front of the restaurant. Awkwardly walking inside, she tells the hostess, "I've got someone waiting for me..." Pointing him out to her, she nods, leading her towards the man.

    Reaching into her jacket's pocket, she feels her wallet, ready to take it out as soon as she was close enough and flash her ID. When the waitress asks if she would like a menu, no doubt thinking that Nadya and the man are a couple, she declines, not in the mood for eating and certain that doing so would be a bad first impression, despite who the man might be.

    Sitting down across from him, she waits for him to begin, preparing herself for any witty remarks she might be able to make in response.
     
  16. He watches her move in and sit at the table, fixing his hair with his forefinger and thumb. "So you're a stalker," He states rather than asking, leaning back and placing his hands in his pockets. "You followed me for an entire hour, and then watched me from the window..." He takes a sip of his drink and coughs. "Not exactly my favorite way to meet a girl, but hey."

    A steak is put in front of Sid, red and bloody. It came out relatively quickly due to it taking almost no time at all to cook. He thanks the waitress with a gracious grin and unfolds his utensils. He looks up from his plate. "They didn't bring you a menu? How rude. Hey waitress! Can we get a menu?" He calls out. Food is distracting and eases tension.
     
  17. "I'm not a stalker," she states immediately, "and I'm not hungry, either." Reaching into her pocket again, instead of taking out her ID like she had initially intended, she took out an old Zippo lighter, trying to keep a smile from coming to her face. Holding it under the table, she states, "I've got a gun on you." She flicks open the lighter, making an unconvincing clicking noise. Hopefully, though, the noise of the restaurant would make sure it sounded convincing enough. "Now, very calmly, why don't you hand me the toothpick. The red one."

    Ignoring the menu when it came, she keeps her gaze on him, intending on hopefully scaring him enough so that he complies.
     
  18. His eyes open in panic and his body tenses up. He looks around to see nobody paying heed to the gun she has. He looks back to his food and acts casual. "My red toothpick? But why do you..." Bingo. He chuckles mentally. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the toothpick he had been digging into his finger. It was dyed red in his blood. "Whatever, here..." He says, handing it to her. "This really brings stalking to a new level..."
     
  19. "As I've said, I'm not stalking you," she tells him, taking the toothpick gingerly. Wishing she had brought at least a plastic bag, she clicks shut the lighter, stuffing it back into her pocket. As gently as she had taken the toothpick she put it into her pocket, hoping she would at least get traces of blood on the toothpick, so her favorite jacket wouldn't be taken as evidence.

    Finally deciding to tell him who she was, now that she had his DNA, and hopefully more evidence that he was the person she needed, she takes out her wallet, flipping it open, and showing her ID.

    "Nadya Michaels, special agent. You are now involved in a criminal investigation. If you wouldn't mind, would you care to come down to the station and answer a few questions?"