Expedition Antarctica

[Jack Robinson]

St. Thomas's Landing, Antarctica, May 20th, 2190.

The sleek grey vessel pierced through the grey fog as it slid through the icy waters. Up ahead, past the clumps of melting ice, was solid land. The cold bitterness of Antarctica awaited them. Captain Nero, leader of the expedition stood at the bow, his emotionless eyes scanning the wasteland ahead of them. They had been traveling for three weeks aboard the finest vessel the German Confederation had to offer. Two hundred souls, all under his command, were about to embark on the most grueling journey any man could make: a trek across Antarctica hunting the Lord of Calamities himself, Tubal-Cain.

"We've arrived," came a voice from behind the captain. The stark clarity of the words and practicality of the statement helped Nero know immediately who it was.

Agent Hobbes.

"Yeah, we made it."

"You remember our true purpose for being here, correct?"

Nero was silent for a moment. "Yes. I do."

"Excellent. Ensure that you remember it, and we will have no trouble." With that, Hobbes went back into the warmth of the lower deck. Nero returned his gaze to the approaching land mass.

What horrors awaited them in that frozen hell? How many would return alive? They had until August to find Tubal-Cain...would they be able to do it?

He sighed and pulled out his radio. "Prepare to disembark," he said to the captain of the vessel, "Make all preparations, have the lookouts scan the perimeter. And inform Alpha Base that we've landed."

@Chris_Reaper @Makomin @RiddL @HellHoundWoof

 

[Makomin]

The cold was never an element that made the top of her priority list. Living in South Korea for most of her life, she had gotten used to the winter visits that frequented through out the years. Of course, Danielle wasn't made out of brick. She would feel cold if she was not given the proper attire but right now, she was propped on a chair, in a living space of a sort just below deck.

Her hair was tied up in a bun and the collar of her uniformed jacket was up. Danielle Kim felt rather odd in a vessel like this, confined to four walls with nothing but inanimate objects and people to engage in her soon-to-be everyday life.

She moved quite a bit and she didn't like staying in one place but now that there was a certain order to follow, she found herself almost like a thorn among others who have already been accustomed to the schedule of time constitutes. She woke up earlier, had breakfast later and carried her work out as soon as possible.

It was rather diorganised for her.

"Great." She mumbled to herself as she closed her eyes for a bit. Maybe by the time she opened them, they would have reached.

 

[Polaris North]

Interactions: Agent Hobbes
Mentions: @Jack Robinson ​

---

Seran wasn't sure, at first, whether or not this was a good idea. Being locked up in a room just in case he were to go 'berserk', as they say, on them was not what he was expecting when they allowed him to join the expedition. He was a half-demon, yes, but they acted like he wasn't a half-human too. Just because his father was a demon didn't mean that he wasn't as well. If they were to go by that logic, he would also be human since his mother was, in fact, a human. Though, why was he even surprised? This was how they treated him back at the village where his mother gave birth to him and where he grew up. He shouldn't have expected anyone to even be close to being kind to him.

However, they at least gave him a room with a window on it so he knew where they were going. For the past few days, there were just water. He heard a lot of horrible things from back then - about the floor of some places in the far west, but no one told him about it in detail. They just only told him that it was because of demons. None of the crew members wanted to say anything to him either. One did tell him that it was because of his kind that everything went to literal hell. Seran took offense to that. He was not one of them. If he had been, then this ship wouldn't have been sailing anymore! But he kept calm and refused to allow himself to take the pleasure of burning the guy's ass.

When he saw ice and the complaining of other crew members about the cold, Seran knew that they had arrived. The announcement was made and he could hear the footsteps of crew members stomping around to do their work. Seran, well, he merely sat down until the door was opened. He could do it himself, but that would mean that they would be more distrustful of him since he was told specifically to stay put. And that was what he shall do. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against his thighs, staring intently at the door.

After a moment, he let out a sigh and then exited the room just in time to see Agent Hobbes. Just in time, his timing was impeccable. The side of his lips twitched upward. This was the only person he knew among all of them, and even then, he didn't know him well. But, given that the guy has telekenetic powers despite being a human made him interesting. Seran trusts him a little. He was all business after all, and that meant that he would hold up his end of the bargain and just keep an eye on him as opposed to simply trying to trip him off.

"Ah, Agent Hobbes." Seran said before bowing his head for a moment to show a moment of respect. "I've heard that we are disembarking. Quite exciting, isn't it?" For a teen such as him, his formal speech would have been quite jarring for some other people. It sounded like he's been trained like this for so long, despite living a 'normal' life not two years before the events.

He looked outwards, making eye contact with one of the crew members who glared at him before moving on. "I truly do wonder what would happen during this expedition. They do not trust me nor do I trust them. I wonder what kind of events would transpire thanks to this." Seran absentmindedly commented as he opened his palm, a flicker of flame appearing.[/hr]

 

[Jack Robinson]

Agent Hobbes (interacting with Seran Hamilton)

He walked down below deck, shoving past gruff crew members and curious members of the expedition. After such a long period of waiting, they were about to begin the hunt. Hobbes was eager to land so he could both get off the cramped boat and so they could finally find Tubal-Cain. Finding the shifty demon lord was just one of his many tasks the WSA had assigned him. He wasn't bothered. He was more than capable of handling anything that was thrown at him.

He passed by a few rooms on his way to his own quarters, and ran into Seran Hamilton, the young hybrid he'd been told to keep an eye on. WSA interests and whatnot. They were still studying the half humans in order to discover whether or not they'd be detrimental or helpful to world security. It was Hobbes's job to do a field study of his own with the young Seran. The youth nodded at him and addressed him respectfully and eloquently in a style similar to Hobbes's own style of speech.

"Indeed. We are landing. I suppose it shall be a matter of minutes until we are able to disembark and at last walk on solid ground. Sitting around in this huge steel coffin has been distasteful to say the least."

Seran brought up the matter of his heritage, and Hobbes nodded in understanding. "They do not trust you because they do not understand you. It would be unwise of them to not be suspicious of you. And of course, you do understand the staunch animosity between humans and demons. That is the whole reason the expedition was sent here; hatred between demons and man. Whatever transpires, I believe, depends on if you manage to disprove their presuppositions."

He wasn't one for encouragement, but he knew when it was necessary to give advice. He didn't want the child being lynched or have his head bashed in before Hobbes got a chance to study him. That would be quite unfortunate.


Hans Gambino (Open for Interaction)

Hans woke up to the sound of people moving around, talking, and issuing orders. He grunted and literally rolled out of bed, almost impaling himself with the spike that had replaced his left hand for ten years now. He stared up at the grey ceiling, feeling the rock of the boat as it carved through the icy waters.

"We're here!" came a voice from outside his door.

"About time!" someone responded, and the voices faded into the cacophony of movement and noise that filled the ship. Hans sighed and stood up. He rubbed his eyes, slid on a pink sweater and a grey aviator's jacket along with a pair of black jeans, and walked outside. People were moving around in the cramped halls, preparing for landing. He tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, making a clucking noise, and tried to figure out what he would pretend to be that day. Maybe the cook? Or maybe he could convince people he was the first mate. Hmm. Or he could just avoid everyone. That was always an option. Essentially, he just couldn't let anyone know that he had no idea what he was doing until they landed. He had, after all, traveled all the way from South America just to get on the expedition. He didn't want to be sent back. That'd just be a waste of time.

Hans decided to get out of the way of all the hustle and bustle. If he was seen standing around, he'd be asked to help. Then people would ask more questions. Then he'd be screwed. He was a hell of a smooth talker, that was how he'd managed to remain undiscovered for so long, but he knew he'd have to be careful to stay out of trouble. Caution was key. And so he went outside after putting on a pair of baggy ski pants over his jeans, wrapping a scarf around his neck, and stuffing his curly hair into a red beanie. He felt the bitter cold against him, chilling him to the bone even with all his clothes on. His breath came out as a thin white fog, and he smiled. They were definitely in Antarctica. He walked on the starboard side of the ship and finally stopped when he saw Captain Nero at the bow. Best to avoid that man for now. He leaned against the railing a good distance away from the Nigerian soldier, and watched as they sailed past huge chunks of floating ice. When was he gonna get to see a damned penguin?

 

[Chris_Reaper]

@Jack Robinson

Jericho felt just a twinge of fatigue as he completed his twenty lap sprint around the large ice breaker vessel. As he reaches the bow of the ship he stops and bangs out about fifty pushups, before getting back up to stretch. Beads of sweat pour down his shirtless chest and his medium length jet black hair was soaked with perspiration. Jeri didn't do this just to look tough in front of his crew mates, as a Sicarii warrior trained from birth, it was ingrained him to always keep his body in peak condition. However on this particular mission, he had to train extra hard because of the climate. His entire life he knew nothing but the hash and arid deserts of the Middle East and this would be the first time he had ever seen snow or ice of any kind. Her knew he had to get his body accustomed to the frigid polar conditions. After the three week voyage, he felt he had accomplished his goal. Physically anyway, he was more than ready for the horrors that lay ahead.

Suddenly he heard the loud stammer of the lookout yelling that they had arrived. Jeri rushes to the front of the ship and his bright hazel eyes catch the sight of errie spires of ice capped mountains emerging from a thick haze as the ship neared the frozen shoreline. He inhales deeply as he is awestruck by the forbidding yet captivating landscape of nothing but windswept deserts of ice as far as the eye could see.

"So it begins..." Jeri mutters to himself.

Jeri than rushes to Captain Nero's side as the gruff looking man spies the expanse with some binoculars "Captain my congratulations to you for getting us here safely. Give me ten minutes to suit up, with your permission I request to be one of the first scouting crews to get the lay of the land." he says as he sweeps some strands of hair away from his face revealing some of his ritualistic facial tattoos.

 

[Jack Robinson]

Captain Nero (interacting with Jericho)

The Nigerian observed the land ahead through his binoculars. The permafrost was featureless and white. Due to severe climate change, nuclear assaults, and demonic meddling during the Infernal War, it was a miracle Antarctica remained. It was warmer than it was in days past, although that wasn't saying much. The ice they were carving through now would refreeze in early September. They would have to be done by then, or they'd be stuck in Antarctica until late May. Nero shivered both from the cold and the thought. A year with demons...that would be certain death. Their landing area was called St. Thomas's Landing, and just ten miles from it was an old WSA base. The Argentinian government had stationed some scientists and soldiers there to watch over the demons and monitor their activity. It was they who told the world that Tubal-Cain hid in Antarctica. They'd stop there for supplies and information. The only problem was that they'd have to find it first.

The team demonologist, Jericho, came up to Nero, interrupting his musings and asking if he could be part of the first team to step foot on the frozen continent. Nero gave him an affirmative nod. "Yes, Mr. Jericho. I am glad you volunteered. Check for signs of demonic activity. Ashy footprints, scorch marks, all that. You know what to do. While you're at it, see if you can find the entrance to Alpha Base. It should be a pair of titanium doors embedded in the ground. Take a handful of men with you. And be careful. I don't want unnecessary losses."

Nero returned his gaze to Antarctica. Hunting a demon lord would be difficult, even more so if they lost men during petty scouting runs. "Outfit yourselves with good weaponry and warm clothing. We will stay close to shore for support. We will not unload until you return."

 

[Chris_Reaper]

Jeri nods enthusiastically "Eye sir, thank you sir."

Jeri than turns to face the interior of the ship, where several of the crew mill about in various states of busyness trying to get ready for docking. He begins to shout which gets the sttention of a good portion of the above deck crew.

"Alright listen up...with the the Captain's permission I'll be leading a small preliminary scouting crew about two kilometers beyond the the ship's docking point! I'll need about six to eight men, if you wish to be one of the first to get your feet wet, so to speak...meet me here in exactly twenty minutes at precisely zero nine hundred hours! Have all your gear ready to go and make sure your properly armed up! Good hunting, I'll see ya in twenty minutes!"

At that Jericho rushes below deck to his cabin. Even though Jericho was a not a soldier proper in his previous occupation, he knew well the inner workings of military protocol and took great pains to follow strict procedure. As he reached his cabin, Jeri quickly dried off and changed into a special winter resistant thermal overall. Disliking the traditional cumbersome parka, this layered body suit allowed him great flexibility and more importantly maneuverability. It was insulated and contained resilient fifth generation titanium Kevlar which could withstand even a small rocket projectile at close range. He than loaded some small arms into a light weight ruck sack and his finishing touch...his engraved laser etched Falcatta blade, his primary weapon. Slowly Jeri unsheathed the weapon, making a beautiful sheering sound as the metal glazed the inside of the scabbard. It was an impressive armament, Jeri stares down at his prize implement, his mind flooding with memories of the Infernal War...of how many demons' heads he had taken off with this very sword. He momentarily holds the blade up to the mirror, noting how the many glyphs and runic symbols etched onto the surface of the sword reflected many of the same ritual tattoos etched onto his face when he was but a boy.

Jeri than quickly re sheathes the Falcatta and latches it onto his back "For my fallen Sicarii brethren. Beware descendants of accursed Cain, for now I come for you..."

 

[Polaris North]

Interactions: Agent Hobbes, Jericho
Mentions: @Jack Robinson @Chris_Reaper ​

---

Seran let out a light chuckle. "All too true." He said, rapping his knuckles against the steel. "It's a far cry to what the WSA provided me..." He then paused, looking at him with unimpressed eyes. "Oh wait, it actually isn't." Seran knew that he shouldn't complain in what they gave him. It was a rather bland room with a bed. They gave him food and whatnot, and allowed him to practice without any repurcussions because he couldn't damage the equipment there too badly. And even if he did, they would just fix it. He knew he was being studied, but by now, he didn't really care. Though, the feeling that if he survived this and he was proven to be useful - that after that, he would be chained to the WSA - never left him.

"I suppose I do understand that. Considering that they made me a scout says a lot, to be honest." He was already told of what he would be doing. They would send him forward to see if he could find any demons, and then report back. He was unsure whether or not someone would be tagging along - but he assumed that there would be. They might think that he would run off at the first chance, despite him willingly going here. "Thank you, Agent Hobbes. I will make sure to remember your advice." Seran said with a nod. He was right. In the end, it was all up to Seran whether or not the others would begin to trust him. And he knew in himself that he could be trusted - though the same cannot be said for others.

Nodding at him once more, Seran began to leave. Each step made a click against the metal. His pace was slow and steady, compared to everyone else as they were rushing around. They didn't bump into him, however, and he suspected it was because he would get angry because of that. He began humming as he walked, finding some form of pleasure to sing the same song his mother always sung to him when he was a child - so he could fall asleep. He could tell that others seemed to recognize the song, but refused to think that a half-demon would be singing something so familiar.

He stopped as he heard Jericho speak about leading a Scouting Party and to meet him there. Well now, that was convenient was it not? His first mission, if the descendant of Seth would allow him to partake in it. Seran made a turn to get his sword from the "armory", as they did not allow him to keep it inside his room. It was a simple sword, to be honest. Nothing too special, to him at least. It was made of obsidian, he was told, and made by the WSA for someone to wield - and they gave it to him. It was etched with one demonic symbol, to bind it to Seran. While it was no demonic weapon, it was still his - apparently.

Seran then headed to the meeting point and stayed there. He wondered how Jericho would handle him. He was a scout after all and this was his job. It wasn't like Jericho could say that he couldn't do it.[/hr]

 

[Jack Robinson]

Hans Gambino (Interacting with Seran Hamilton and Jericho)

Hans heard the booming voice of that muscular dude with the tribal tattoos. He was some sort of maniac, in Hans's opinion. A zealot, if you will, probably on the expedition for some kind of religious reason. Considering they were apparently hunting demons on this trip, that was probably the case. Hans sighed and shook his head. He wished he had known exactly what he was getting himself into when he joined the expedition. Demon lords weren't exactly his favorite thing. He'd had half of his soul sucked out by Raiku, a demon lord in Nevada. Nasty and complicated business that was, getting one's soul sucked out halfway. At night, he had horrible, horrible dreams that could only be countered with alcohol or heroin. He'd had to wean himself off the latter substance, as he knew it'd be nigh impossible to find in the icy south. But alcohol, well, that was a bit more abundant, especially among sailors and veteran soldiers. Hans had been able to keep his nightmares at bay. So far, at least.

Hans rather fancied the idea of being one of the first to step foot on Antarctic soil, and so he figured he'd pretend he was a scout of some kind. No, maybe a land surveyor. A combat strategist. Yeah, that'd be good. And so he walked over to the meeting place that he'd heard that scary dude talk about. Already, a couple people were waiting there. A couple old mercenaries, and a youth. The hybrid. Hans wasn't so sure about the kid. He'd had bad experiences with demons and possession and all that jazz in the past. He'd encountered a couple hybrids in the past year or two, due to them starting to finally reach maturity. He'd had to fight both of the ones he'd encountered. He figured they'd be great allies. They were awful enemies. He hoped that the kid wouldn't flip sides midway through the campaign. That would stink. He checked to make sure his revolver was still strapped to his side. Yep. All was well.

"Hey there, pals. Now I'm not one to assume, but I'm gonna assume right here and now if that's okay, that this is where we're supposed to meet up if we wanna go on a little adventure? See some...penguins? Maybe? Get some of that crisp, cool Antarctic air in our lungs, am I right? Yeah? It'll be a blast," Hans said with a smile.

"You look familiar," said one of the mercs.

Hans smiled. "Heh heh. I bet I do. We've been on the same boat for three weeks."

"Nah, like before. Were you on television before the war?"

"I'm flattered, really, I am, but no. Some people do say I have a resemblance to Julius Steele, though. Handsome man, that guy. I loved him in that one movie with the dinosaurs and the Neanderthal pirates or whatever. Great film." He winked at Seran Hamilton as if they were sharing a joke. "Of course, little bit over here probably doesn't know who the hell we're talking about."

The mercenaries regarded Seran suspiciously, and said nothing. Hans frowned a bit, and glanced at the hybrid. "I'm guessing they're jealous of your dashing good looks and yellow eyes." Yellow eyes. Terrifying things they were. Hans didn't like to admit it, but even after all the things he'd done, all the places he'd been, yellow eyes gave him the heebie jeebies. They were just so unnatural. He wasn't a fan. Sorry, little man.

 

[Makomin]

There was something about the yellings and scurry of footsteps above the deck that woke her up.

Danielle remembered her grandmother grumbling one day, when they were in a market, about how many individuals there were like neadranthals, incapable of conducting an array or exhange of business without yelling to the whole world that it was going on. But she did say it made her buy her items and leave as fast as possible. Danielle opened her eyes and looked around the room.

It seemed like only she and a few other crew members were left below deck.

She lazily got out of her chair before stretching her arms. She has been sitting for so long that she couldn't even tell whether her legs were numb from it or just cold.

"Alright listen up...with the the Captain's permission I'll be leading a small preliminary scouting crew about two kilometers beyond the the ship's docking point! I'll need about six to eight men, if you wish to be one of the first to get your feet wet, so to speak...meet me here in exactly twenty minutes at precisely zero nine hundred hours! Have all your gear ready to go and make sure your properly armed up! Good hunting, I'll see ya in twenty minutes!"

Just as she was about to climb up the stairs to the deck, a shout was heard. Now, Danielle was usually the type to let everyone else volunteer first. She preferred having all the enthusiastic ones go first before she took her time to carry out a particular task. But considering she was here for a sole purpose, she might as well go.

The hit of the cold made her frowned slightly. It was as though the wind blew right through her, even though she wasn't freezing yet. As Danielle made her way to the meeting point, she ran into Captain Nero. He was one of the few that she actually trusted, if not only.

"Morning, Captain. It looks like we'll be busy earlier than we thought." She said casually while gesturing to the icy cold space before making her way to the meeting point. Before leaving, she gave him a salute and turned away.

There were less people than she expected, volunteering to be the first and go ahead. She knew about the half human from a lot of talks but she had never really seen him close up. Danielle Kim didn't look much. She gave him a glance before moving on to the next person. This one, looked almost Italian as he tried to console or placed the half human at ease.

"Maybe it's because you're younger." She said with a shrug.

 

[Chris_Reaper]

@Jack Robinson @Polaris North


Jericho hurries onto the deck as he shoves a black wool hat onto his head. He is a little surprised to see that his crew of eight has already assembled at the rendezvous point. Some faces he recognizes, others, not so much. As the Sicarii casually scans the faces of his scout crew, he comes across a short black man with dread locks and a wild look in his eyes.

"Hicks, good to see you decided to come along." Jeri says with a grin.

"After three weeks stuck on this floating sausage fest, you know I was dyin to see some goddamn action." Hicks says with a jovial laugh.

Jeri smirks as he pats Hicks on the shoulder "I know what you mean."

Jeri than comes across a large man, with long red hair and a beard that would make Grizzly Adams jealous "Well, Mr. Tuttle...I see your looking as overkill as ever" he says noting the absurd amount of firearms Tuttle has strapped to his person.

Tuttle sneers in a joking manner "Just try not to get us killed out there, huh pretty boy."

Jeri smiles wide "I'll do my best."

As Jericho continues to peruse his motley crew he comes across a man with a red beanie and a single hand gun "Well recruit, your looking a little under prepared. Perhaps your not quite aware of the dangers we face out there." Jeri says matter of factly to Gambino.

Tuttle mockingly laughs "Buncha shit eating pretty boys, I'll tell ya."

"Well Mr. Tuttle, since you seem to be so keen on this subject...I'm gonna pair you two up. Your wing men for the duration of the scouting mission. Got that?"

Tuttle sneers again in disgust.

"I'm sorry I didn't get that Mr. Tuttle" Jeri says in an authoritarian tone.

"Sure thing skipper..." says Tuttle under his breath.

"Good..." says Jeri as he continues down the line.

Tuttle grabs Gambino by the collar and yanks him closer "Listen up pretty boy, you just make sure to stay the hell outta my way and we won't have any problems, got it!"

Jericho than spies someone he didn't expect. He heard rumors of the man with the yellow eyes, but never actually saw this aberration up close. He slightly narrows his eyes as he stares down Seran Hamilton."Well, well, well...what do we have here?" I've heard stories of your kind but never actually believed we had one one board."

"Fuckin half baked Hell Spawn!" yells Hicks.

"Hicks, that'll be all!" reprimands Jericho.

"Oh come on Jeri, this asshole is what we're fightin against!"

"Correction Mr. Hicks, Tubal-Cain is why we're here! Trust me I know a demon spawn better than most! Don't forget, my ancestors were bred to fight the sons of bitches!" he turns to address Seran directly "I don't profess to know exactly what you are and truth be told, I don't much give a rat's ass either. Your on my crew and that means you have the right to the benefit of the doubt. I extend my trust, you get my back and as far as I'm concerned, your as good as any other soldier here. Just don't fuck it up, ya hear?"

With that Jeri addresses his whole crew "Alright, we're strictly recon, scout and surveillance! I don't want anyone tryin to be a hero. I want everyone on constant com link communication, we go strictly by the book on this outing. We'll be updating the ship every few hundred yards or so. If anyone runs into to trouble your to report directly to me via your radio headset, is that understood? If anyone has any questions, speak now or forever hold your peace. If not than hold onto your asses as we'll be deploying a shuttle skiff to the shoreline. Once again good hunting gentlemen!"

 

[Polaris North]

Interactions: Hans, Jericho, Danielle
Mentions: @Jack Robinson@Chris_Reaper@Makomin ​

---

Seran tried to keep himself out of attention as much as possible. If anything, that was to avoid any more interactions with the crew. He had to keep it as little as possible, because they never had anything else to talk about aside from him being a half-demon. From what he heard, some of the crew members were smart enough to have a decent conversation with - if they can get past the shallow part of their personalities that prevents them from interacting with him, Seran imagined that the three week voyage would have actually been memorable. He only remembered two things - meeting Captain Nero and talking with Agent Hobbes. Aside from those, it was just a mixture of hushed whispers against him.

However, Seran knew that the peace he had currently wouldn't last. And, as suspected, it did not. A man with curly hair approached the group beside him - a bunch of mercenaries who were talking among themselves. Seran had planned on staying silent, but was dragged into the conversation when the man looked at him with a joking look - something about not knowing who this Julius Steele was. Admittedly, he didn't. The mercenaries looked at him suspiciously - not like they gave him any other look than that - and then stayed silent.

The man said that they may have been jealous of his physical appearance. Then, unexpectedly, a woman came into play as she commented about circumstances arising like that because Seran was younger than them - way younger. "Or perhaps let's just admit that it is because I am different." He said bluntly. He wondered what pushed these two to speak like he was more than just a halfling. They seemed to not be as hostile as the others, though he suspected that it didn't mean that he was automatically accepted in their eyes.

Unfortunately, he can't say that he knew the people either. Thanks to his rather isolated position on the voyage, he never got to know anyone else. No positions, no names - simply faces among the crowd. It also didn't seem that he actually needed to memorize the face of his allies since he was pretty sure that he could differentiate a human from a demon. The latter had horns after all, and could probably kill him if they tried. However, Seran memorized the faces of the people before him - thinking that if he were given the choice to save those mercenaries or these people, he'd actually know who would appreciate it more.

Yellow orbs turned to the Italian man as Seran thought of what to say. "Though the reassurance is well appreciated." He then turned to the woman. "As was yours." He inclined his head ever so slightly towards them to show even an inkling of gratitude. He figured that the humans would think that perhaps he isn't so different with the show of emotions - gratitude. He's heard that finding similarities between two people would often lead to them being friends or allies, at the very least. He wondered if that would work in this kind of scenario wherein the species is different from the other.

He shifted in his position, looking around as if the conversation had ended at that. Seran never did experience length talks with others, aside from his mother and the village leader. No one tended to bother him for so long.

The black haired male turned to Jericho and the other incoming troops. He frowned, seeing the look one of them was giving him. Jericho regarded him kindly, if not a little bit suspicious. The one named Hicks spat venom at him - calling him a 'half-baked Hell spawn'. His blood ran hot but he kept a straight face. He'd heard worse insults. To his surprise, Jericho jumped to his defense. Or at the very least, didn't agree with his companion.

"Will do, Mr. Jericho." He replied. This descendant of Seth was at least more logical and reasonable than others. Working with him wouldn't be too bad, or too difficult. Seran could see that he was more than an excellent leader; though some inkling in his mind still appreciated Captain Nero better. Perhaps that is because they share the same reason as to why they joined the voyage - revenge. Jericho, well, he did just state that he was part of tradition of hunting down these demons. Though now that he thought about it, Jericho would be more than capable in eliminating demonic targets.

Interesting. Further observation on the man seemed to be ideal. What sort of techniques do the descendants of Seth use to eliminate their targets? It seemed far too interesting to pass up.

Listening to the leader, he nodded. Scouting only huh? Understandable. He took out the headset that was given to him at the start of the voyage and then plugged it in. Seran kept silent and waited for when they were going to be deployed. He smiled at the 'don't be a hero'. Ah yes, some of them were prone to that, weren't they? He wondered if there were still some like that nowadays. Considering the facts, there may only be a small number of people who feel the need to do that.[/hr]

 

[Jack Robinson]

Hans Gambino (Interacting with Danielle, Seran, and Jericho)

The little demon kid showed some gratitude for Hans and that Korean girl's words of kindness. Polite kid. Bit blunt. But he seemed like the type of guy Hans could get along with. Then again, he tended to get along with most people. That's what had kept him alive for so long. His silver tongue and the little pistol strapped to his side. He gave the Korean girl a little wink. He had honestly forgotten what her name was, but he knew she was the team doctor, so he figured he'd better get on her good side.

"Good to see another good looking and good hearted person on this damned trip," he said to her.

Jericho, who some people said was a descendant of Seth (whatever the hell that meant) started giving orders and walking up and down their ranks like he was that drill sergeant from Full Metal Jacket. Great movie. He stopped when he saw Hans and his, uh, lack of equipment. He made some comment about him not knowing what to expect, and Hans merely shot him a smile.

"I know what to expect, boss. Fewer weapons, less weight, less likely to get caught by those horned fuckers. Also, you know...I have one hand. So...pistol is my best bet," he laughed, and only stopped when he heard a man next to him mumble something derogatory about "pretty boys."

"So you think I'm pretty?" Hans said to the man. Jericho then paired Hans with the unpleasant man, a pairing that made Hans want to take his lowly revolver, stick it in his mouth, and blow his brains out. The man tried to intimidate Hans, talking about staying out of his way, but Hans had literally met children that were more intimidating than he was. "Gotcha. Don't worry, oh great brilliant Einstein. Your way will be clear of lesser men such as myself. But when you need help counting past ten, don't come cryin' to me, alright?"

Jericho asked if there were any questions, and Hans was severely tempted to jokingly ask if there would be refreshments, but decided it would be best to not draw unnecessary attention to himself. So he just smiled and nodded. They began heading toward the skiff, a sleek grey vessel that was essentially a smaller version of the G.C.S. Eis. It was powered by an electric motor, so it would be totally silent and quite fast. Hans was the first aboard, hopping in the back seat, where the icy spray of the water wouldn't give him hypothermia. Antarctica. He could cross yet another continent off his list. How exciting. North America, South America, Africa, Europe, now Antarctica. Just Asia and Australia, and he'd be a seasoned world traveler. What an achievement.

 

[Cartoonicat]

​

With a sopping rag, Parker wiped down the metal countertops. Freed it from crumbs of food, tacked on gunk that had dried since breakfast, and the like. Poured in the elbow grease at the very end when a stubborn clump of dried food - Is that oatmeal? I don't remember making oatmeal - refused to dissipate. By the time he finished cleaning the kitchen, the area shined as spotless as it could, his arms and elbows screaming for a break. Parker wouldn't be taking a break, though. With a squad of explorers heading out into the icy tundra for recon, the risk of exposure to demons would be high. The risk of battle even more so, be it with the hated spawns of hell or simple Antarctic fauna. Parker had never seen a polar bear, but he heard they were assholes.

That being the case, he'd have to make sure they had a bountiful dinner to return to. High protein for the muscles, high carbohydrate for the brain and energy levels. Truth be told, their supplies were limited on the ship; Parker was used to working with a much wider variety of canned goods than what the expedition presented him with. Still, he felt certain he could pull something off. Whatever he made had to be better than the MREs the ship had in case of emergencies - not really that hard to beat.

Stepping into the storage room not too many steps from his own workstation, Parker heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps approach from behind.

"Fancy meeting you here, Sweetheart."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Parker ignored the familiar voice. Deep, guttural, and entirely too slimy for his liking - engineer Adams. The man, nearly twenty years his senior, had taken a liking to Parker despite them both being male. Now, Parker was open to all kinds of relationships, but romance wasn't the reason he'd gone to Antarctica and he wasn't about to please the man who continuously referred to him a woman despite Parker's protests.

"I'm a man, Adams. And very busy." Standing on his toes, Parker gathered several cans into his arms from a particularly high shelf.

Adams' voice sounded in his ear, breath smelling devoid of hygiene. It made Parker wrinkle his nose. "Yet you cook and clean the kitchen like a woman," he taunted. Irritated, Parker elbowed the older man in the gut and slipped around him, out of the storage room. Adams made a disgruntled noise. "What the hell, Bronschweig?"

"Stay away from me," Parker said. "Or learn to show some respect, at least." Be glad I don't spit in your food, asswipe. Leaving Adams in the storage room, Parker returned to the kitchen. Set down the collected cans in categories based on nutrients. Felt his mind falling to other subjects, rather than the job he was assigned upon stepping foot on the ship.

I really don't ever leave the kitchen, do I? Parker thought. Being called a woman - something he'd grown used to over time - wasn't what gnawed at him. It was his inactivity. He'd spent the entire voyage slaving over food prep that he'd nearly forgotten why he'd come there in the first place: to see Tubal-Cain slaughtered.

That wouldn't happen if he were cooped inside day in and day out.

Something sparked in his chest. Tightened, scorching hot, like a searing coil. Dropping his hands from the counter, Parker looked to the staircase that lead to the upper decks. His father had tried teaching him how to shoot and utilize knives in combat, though Parker hadn't been too interested in violence. Things were different, now. His late mother might not approve, but he was doing this for her. Putting his neck on the line to avenge her death and those else caught in the Flooding of Florida.

Grabbing his near-empty backpack from under the counter, Parker stuffed it with several items: a can-opener, three cans of beans, a butcher's knife from the left drawer, and a few bottles of purified water he'd been stashing. Double-checked to make sure his Glock handgun was there and he had an abundance of stockpiled 9mm ammunition. Not the best weapon for killing demons, Parker was sure, but it'd been the only gun he felt comfortable using when his dad tried teaching him. Shotguns and rifles had too much recoil, were too loud and close to his face.

"You headin' out there, then?" Adams reappeared and Parker's head snapped up, eyes round as a doe's. Feeling like a child who'd gotten caught doing something bad, Parker stammered for a reply - only to be silenced with a steady, raised hand. "Shouldn't have goaded you, but... well... stay safe out there, Sweetheart."

"It's just recon. They might not even let me go."

"Oh, they'll let you. Need all the people they can get," Adams said. "As for recon... again, just be careful. Those damned demons don't care if its recon or not - they'll still try to kill you."

That, Parker knew. His eyes searched Adams' face for any telltale sign of mockery, finding none. The coil around his chest loosened a bit. Nodding solemnly, Parker made his way to the stairs. "Will do."

And then he was gone, taking the steps two at a time in order to catch up with the departing squad.

"Wait!" Parker rushed over the top of the deck to catch up to them, skidding to a stop just a few feet away with ragged breaths. "Wait, I'm-... I'm here. I want to come, too." He straightened, looking at those who had volunteered to go. Some big, some small, some men and women. A man with one hand, a pretty fellow leading the group, a woman who appeared to be of Asian descent, and...

The half demon.

Parker hadn't seen him before now - only heard rumors - but the yellow eyes gave him away. Aside from that little feature, Parker found himself surprised; the half-demon looked rather human. Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't betray them in favor of his hellish kin. Making a point to stand away from him, Parker looked to the man who'd addressed them all, Jericho Judah-Asher. "Reporting for the recon mission, Sir."