Ordinis Sancti Percute

[Brovo]

Hotspur 1 - Ituha, Stone Oak​

Ituha shifts about in her seat somewhat uncomfortable, sitting across from Adrian and Jace. She noticed what Adrian had to say about 'dazzling' people, and with that mentioned, she smiles as a breeze flows through the small glider. Misha. It wouldn't be difficult to figure out who let the breeze flow for a moment as Ituha's gaze turns towards Kani. "Do you dream?" Ituha inquired curiously. The eastern man might draw her attention later, but for now, it was apparent that she was simply focused on attempting to account for everyone's locations, traits, characteristics... Her eyes were bright with plans. Plans she was content to keep to herself, for now.

Hotspur 2 - Calvin D. Walters​

The whole episode of events happened rather quickly as Calvin remained seated when Winters had moved to push him to the wall for safety's sake. After all, they were going to land in under five minutes in a glider. It was at that moment that Calvin realized that Winters was a paratrooper, and had never done a glider insertion before. Calvin chuckles and motions to two seats behind Elizabeth and Winters. "Lizzy, Winters, y'all'll want to sit down, or you'll hit the deck. Hard." His eyes then refocus to Elizabeth as he, too, gives a friendly smile. "Apologies ma'am, didn't know. It'd be a good idea for you to stuck with Winters n' me then. Keep 'yer head down. I'd stick you further back in the platoon if I could, but, well..." He looks around the cabin of the glider. "...We're more a family than a platoon. So it'd be best if you stayed close to folks who can cover you if we get into trouble."

He looks at Julia and nods. While he hadn't gotten to know her, it was reasonable to assume that, as a captain, he had met her before the mission began. "Y'all commies got guts. The invitation for whisky'is extended to you too, sir." It was a show of respect. Every other woman he called ma'am, but to him, Julia was a military officer first, and so was given the proper respects of any superior officer in a combat situation: Sir.

 

[dalecOoOoOoOoOper]

Captain Winters, Hotspur 2.

Winters looked at Calvin, then back at Elizabeth. He nodded, his hand gently rested over hers as his short smile remained. Winters stood up, and gently tipped his helmet. "Stay behind me and Calvin. You'll be safe." He sat next to her, his emotions and training somewhat being mixed but he kept a cool head. "Trust me." He gave Elizabeth the revolver, gently and slowly. Eventually, he turned his head to Calvin. "I don't drink Calvin. Water will do fine. Or even a Coca-Cola." He chuckled softly, eventually dropping his smile as he rested his head on the seat head. "But you know, I could've gone well with some coffee." Winters smiled again.

@Brovo
@Serene

 

[White]

Kani's head slowly turned to face the black woman, her yellow eyes moving along with her head, never moving a milimetre before locking onto the eyes of the woman. Those that looked closer previously noticed a lack of pupils, a lack of the typical human blinking of the eyes.
"Assembling delusions is interdicted to certify loyality to luminary. Memories are purged to ensure the loyality of Kani. Kani are contented with serving. Punishment for a Kani's discontemt is an eternal nightmare." Kani's eyes turned into a greyish tint on the mention of nightmare. Her facial expression changing into a reflection of terror. She herself has gone through the process once. Put into a dark room with no light, no food and no hope, only the void.

Her body jacked a bit, barely noticable if people did not look directly at her. Her eyes returning to the previous void of coloring and her face lost any sign of emotion. Her mouth opened and out came words, word of the same old artifialish tone as before the question:"Kani is contented to serve."

 

[Tempest]

Hotspur 1 – Han Van Helsing​

Han holds his hand crossbow across his lap, eyes set on Adrian as he listens to Bill. It was simple enough. To keep the stop the Nazi bad guy from damning the world with a swarm of rotting men raised from the dead with an exhumed Egyptian spellbook, they shoot him. And everyone with him. And their dog for good measure. He chuckles to himself for that mental note of his. No one else might get it. They might think him a little mad for laughing to himself. Maybe he was. He had reason to be after everything. He had seen enough on his own. This would be just another thing on his list.

Bill's comments amused him. The vampire's fixation on just the racism even more. Really, leave it to a narrowminded bloodsucker to not be able to see past his own nose and just see his own issues. He smirks to himself and just shakes his head, watching his blade flicker, ready to raise his own weapon and fire before he can even do anything. Vampires, always overestimating their own feats of power. Sure, they were strong in melee, but they had to engage you first and they could not do that with a stake sticking out their chest.

He coughs a little to himself. The air was thick. He looks around and find the source. Some cowboy was killing them all with his foul air, and himself even faster. He makes a look of disgust before shrugging, before he hears the cowboy make a steady stream of cuss words ending with a comment about someone ending the world with a book. He laughs, it was dark and humorous. He liked this man. Perhaps he could tolerate the smoke for now. The illusionist began prattling on about his arts, though. He, he did not much like. The American Native comments about a future against intolerance, and he raises his brows. He ponders it slowly, settling back. It seemed like hopeful naivety. If she wanted to believe in that, then power to her. He would not crush her hope in that, but he was still grinning at someone calling the vampire a parasite.

He was unable to keep his eyes off the Japanese man. His clothes set him apart, being so loose. And he was far too quiet. At least, he could not keep his eyes off of him until the woman known as Kani spoke up. Her accent was reminiscent of his "half-german" Dutch accent, but it was so far apart it was unnerving. If anything, it scared him. And anymore, he would say he did not scare easily. He looked at her with uneasiness, scooting further away unconsciously. Even after she spoke, Ituha asks the question about if people dreams. And the Kani freak just keeps going. Han shakes his head. "You really are not of this world," he says and anyone not very familiar would say he sounded German. He licks his lips and continues, "I do not dream much myself anymore. Which may be a godsend, whatever god dares watch my back these days… I do not know if any of you are a god fearing man… Or woman, if the case applies. And if any of you are, I hope your god dares follow us down there. We could use the support where we go, I think."

Hotspur 2 – Alcina Salem​

Alcina sits in her seat, settled with her staff, yawning with fangs bared and scowling out at everyone as she clutches at the leather strap overhead and clutches at Puss in her lap, looking across at Julia as she briefs them about the Sphinx and the Thule Society. She herself scans over the brief about the necromancer and the 'Book of the Dead.' Of course, as she does this, the trooper Frank was being a nervous shit, laughing until Julia shut him up. She looses a sigh of relief. She had no idea how long she could have dealt with that. Same with Puss. His ears had been flickering with agitation the whole time, but now he was nuzzling up against her hand.

At least, until the prayer circle broke out. His claws dig into her terry-cloth covered thighs as the captain breaks out in prayer to his god. Alcina's face drops. What more did he need in evidence that his god did not rule here. They were going to recover the Egyptian 'Book of the Dead' under the Sphinx so that a bunch of Nazi necromancer freaks did not get it… while he was in the company of a bunch of supernatural freaks, even. Did that not say it all? No? What more proof did he need? She rubs her eyes and tries to smooth through Puss' fur to calm him as Yggdri and Waltzy get a conversation going, the former… coming off as if she lived underneath a rock. A very, very, very big rock for quite some long time. She smiles to herself and shakes her head before her face drops as Winters starts the prayer circle back up himself.

In her head, she adds a silent 'Of course,' and simply pets underneath Puss' chin and tries to apologize to him through their bond. They were going to what may as well be his dominion and essentially a giant litterbox to him, so he may have grounds to be a bit irritable by this sort of behavior, but really—she stops in her train of thought as Elizabeth fumbles her gun and her bullets go tumbling all over the hull of the glider. Her jaw drops to her chest, simply dumbfounded by the sheer idiocy of the woman who owns a gun and knows absolutely no safety protocols to handle the thing, an ancient thing, even, and everyone just smiles and coddles her. In a war situation. It was simply reckless and negligent at this point! So what if she was a cute face, at least the commanding officer should have reprimanded her, she leers across at Julia.

And everyone continues to dote upon the girl who acts like a ditz, who will essentially be getting herself killed. It was insane. It was like she was going to get everyone killed protecting her. She finds herself digging her nails rougher into Puss' fur unintentionally, gnashing her teeth, her pupils dilated into thin slits. She takes a slow calming breath and tries to draw herself back into a more neutral state, reluctantly, but it seemed that it would not be the case as Winters continues on to give orders purely from a mortal, military perspective. Finally, as he finishes with his comment about not drinking after Waltzy had said drinks were on him (this was such a garbled mess of noise), she stands up, unable to stay quiet.

"Did you even read the briefing?!" She points her staff around, tufted ears of the staff sticking out at everyone, "If you seriously think just regular military combat is just to be expected, you are all fools! You are all here, jackjawing on like ninny heads when you should be thinking about the other side of things, the side you aren't familiar with. The supernatural. Like the dead guys that might be coming back to fight you. How are we going to deal with them? What if the people you are becoming so close to die and are suddenly back and fighting against you? They said it's a necromancer. The Book of the Dead. So maybe you should stop planning about who is planning to buy who drinks and figure out who on your team is going to back you up magic-wise." She raises her chin, "I can heal you up a little if you get banged up, and if we're dealing with the living, I can deal with them if we catch them off guard, or even blast them a little if we don't… But if they're dead ones, I may not be the best in a fire fight."

 

[dalecOoOoOoOoOper]

Hotspur 1 – Han Van Helsing​

Han holds his hand crossbow across his lap, eyes set on Adrian as he listens to Bill. It was simple enough. To keep the stop the Nazi bad guy from damning the world with a swarm of rotting men raised from the dead with an exhumed Egyptian spellbook, they shoot him. And everyone with him. And their dog for good measure. He chuckles to himself for that mental note of his. No one else might get it. They might think him a little mad for laughing to himself. Maybe he was. He had reason to be after everything. He had seen enough on his own. This would be just another thing on his list.

Bill's comments amused him. The vampire's fixation on just the racism even more. Really, leave it to a narrowminded bloodsucker to not be able to see past his own nose and just see his own issues. He smirks to himself and just shakes his head, watching his blade flicker, ready to raise his own weapon and fire before he can even do anything. Vampires, always overestimating their own feats of power. Sure, they were strong in melee, but they had to engage you first and they could not do that with a stake sticking out their chest.

He coughs a little to himself. The air was thick. He looks around and find the source. Some cowboy was killing them all with his foul air, and himself even faster. He makes a look of disgust before shrugging, before he hears the cowboy make a steady stream of cuss words ending with a comment about someone ending the world with a book. He laughs, it was dark and humorous. He liked this man. Perhaps he could tolerate the smoke for now. The illusionist began prattling on about his arts, though. He, he did not much like. The American Native comments about a future against intolerance, and he raises his brows. He ponders it slowly, settling back. It seemed like hopeful naivety. If she wanted to believe in that, then power to her. He would not crush her hope in that, but he was still grinning at someone calling the vampire a parasite.

He was unable to keep his eyes off the Japanese man. His clothes set him apart, being so loose. And he was far too quiet. At least, he could not keep his eyes off of him until the woman known as Kani spoke up. Her accent was reminiscent of his "half-german" Dutch accent, but it was so far apart it was unnerving. If anything, it scared him. And anymore, he would say he did not scare easily. He looked at her with uneasiness, scooting further away unconsciously. Even after she spoke, Ituha asks the question about if people dreams. And the Kani freak just keeps going. Han shakes his head. "You really are not of this world," he says and anyone not very familiar would say he sounded German. He licks his lips and continues, "I do not dream much myself anymore. Which may be a godsend, whatever god dares watch my back these days… I do not know if any of you are a god fearing man… Or woman, if the case applies. And if any of you are, I hope your god dares follow us down there. We could use the support where we go, I think."

Hotspur 1 – Alcina Salem​

Alcina sits in her seat, settled with her staff, yawning with fangs bared and scowling out at everyone as she clutches at the leather strap overhead and clutches at Puss in her lap, looking across at Julia as she briefs them about the Sphinx and the Thule Society. She herself scans over the brief about the necromancer and the 'Book of the Dead.' Of course, as she does this, the trooper Frank was being a nervous shit, laughing until Julia shut him up. She looses a sigh of relief. She had no idea how long she could have dealt with that. Same with Puss. His ears had been flickering with agitation the whole time, but now he was nuzzling up against her hand.

At least, until the prayer circle broke out. His claws dig into her terry-cloth covered thighs as the captain breaks out in prayer to his god. Alcina's face drops. What more did he need in evidence that his god did not rule here. They were going to recover the Egyptian 'Book of the Dead' under the Sphinx so that a bunch of Nazi necromancer freaks did not get it… while he was in the company of a bunch of supernatural freaks, even. Did that not say it all? No? What more proof did he need? She rubs her eyes and tries to smooth through Puss' fur to calm him as Yggdri and Waltzy get a conversation going, the former… coming off as if she lived underneath a rock. A very, very, very big rock for quite some long time. She smiles to herself and shakes her head before her face drops as Winters starts the prayer circle back up himself.

In her head, she adds a silent 'Of course,' and simply pets underneath Puss' chin and tries to apologize to him through their bond. They were going to what may as well be his dominion and essentially a giant litterbox to him, so he may have grounds to be a bit irritable by this sort of behavior, but really—she stops in her train of thought as Elizabeth fumbles her gun and her bullets go tumbling all over the hull of the glider. Her jaw drops to her chest, simply dumbfounded by the sheer idiocy of the woman who owns a gun and knows absolutely no safety protocols to handle the thing, an ancient thing, even, and everyone just smiles and coddles her. In a war situation. It was simply reckless and negligent at this point! So what if she was a cute face, at least the commanding officer should have reprimanded her, she leers across at Julia.

And everyone continues to dote upon the girl who acts like a ditz, who will essentially be getting herself killed. It was insane. It was like she was going to get everyone killed protecting her. She finds herself digging her nails rougher into Puss' fur unintentionally, gnashing her teeth, her pupils dilated into thin slits. She takes a slow calming breath and tries to draw herself back into a more neutral state, reluctantly, but it seemed that it would not be the case as Winters continues on to give orders purely from a mortal, military perspective. Finally, as he finishes with his comment about not drinking after Waltzy had said drinks were on him (this was such a garbled mess of noise), she stands up, unable to stay quiet.

"Did you even read the briefing?!" She points her staff around, tufted ears of the staff sticking out at everyone, "If you seriously think just regular military combat is just to be expected, you are all fools! You are all here, jackjawing on like ninny heads when you should be thinking about the other side of things, the side you aren't familiar with. The supernatural. Like the dead guys that might be coming back to fight you. How are we going to deal with them? What if the people you are becoming so close to die and are suddenly back and fighting against you? They said it's a necromancer. The Book of the Dead. So maybe you should stop planning about who is planning to buy who drinks and figure out who on your team is going to back you up magic-wise." She raises her chin, "I can heal you up a little if you get banged up, and if we're dealing with the living, I can deal with them if we catch them off guard, or even blast them a little if we don't… But if they're dead ones, I may not be the best in a fire fight."

His face had no emotion. He had no words to say, as he finally slept and rested. Better 3 minutes than nothing. But upon hearing the woman yell at them, he stood up, not instinctively but out of force, and immediately Winters had himself face to face with the woman, a loud inner voice of both anger and command coming out "SO, Would you like me to yell at you LIKE THIS, or have a little bit of some companionship between each other, where I DON'T HAVE TO YELL AT ANYONE!?" His voice came out strong and loud, his helmet touching the bare tip of her forehead. Winters voice came down to somewhat of that of a whisper. "Have you ever been in a war?" He asked, brown eyes staring into her own. "I have. Captain Walters has. The Colonel has. And it ain't pretty, and you know what we do? We make friends. Why?..." He asked in a rhetorical question. "Because we try to live through the acts of battle, reminding us we have compassion and humanity." His face kept stern, Winters pointing down at the chair. "Take your seat." He spoke calmly as he walked back next to Elizabeth and Calvin.

 

[Tempest]

Hotspur 2 – Alcina Salem​

"You. Are missing the point, you oaf in a suit," she hisses under her breath, not sitting upon his command. She keeps her head raised defiantly. She was not here under his instruction. She was not a soldier. He was no leader of hers and he did not scare her. He would not bully her and he would bring about his own death at this rate. Her eyes flicker to Waltzy, however, and a flicker of hesitation crosses her face at his words moments before, and the warning that they would be landing. She moves to her seat and calls Puss to her lap. "So be it. Think it your ordinary fight. See if I care. It is your funeral. A burial in sand is as good as any." She huffs and looks away, stroking through her familiar's fur.

 

[dalecOoOoOoOoOper]

He shook his own head, her defiance somewhat dumbstruck. He looked at Calvin, sighing with a bit of anger. "If I live through this war, I'm living in some place peaceful. Somewhere quiet. And somewhere without all these supernatural beings. And when we're back jn England." Winters smiled, his elbow gently shoving Calvins in a playful manner. "I'll buy you your drink, while I have my water."

 

[Firemind]

Seeker Yggdri - Hotspur 2

[ * ]
​

Yggdri had spent all of her time since speaking with Walters simply listening to the group, absorbing the discussions they had and the mistakes they made and the general way in which they interacted. The most obvious thing to take note of was Elizabeth: her blunder and the way in which others jumped to assist her, or attempted to make her feel better was strange to observe. Were the soldiers all extremely kind-hearted, or was it because of Elizabeth's physical attractiveness that they were so understanding and attentive? From a purely subjective view, it was a little off-putting that one of their depended on members was blundering with a gun, but Yggdri was not exactly keen to point out anyone's inability with a weapon. Yggdri had a firearm on her person, and she'd been shown how to use it, but she was not exactly 'hot-shot' material. In the moments just after the group had been ordered to prepare to land, Yggdri turned her attention to Sil, stroking between the ears of the Caracal-shaped familiar. The creature nestled into her stomach as it got comfortable for the landing.

Strangely though, one of the members who had remained thus far silent spoke up. Alcina made obvious her concerns about the crew, and their generally friendly demeanour. As much as the berating of the group seemed a little excessive, Yggdri could see why Alcina was showing such concern. The Seeker could only assume that Alcina had shared similar visions of the horrors that might be approaching, or perhaps she had seen them first hand. If the creatures that they were to battle shared even a tenth of the fearsome power of the creatures from her vision, it seemed likely that there would be fewer people leaving Egypt than were arriving in the Hotspurs.

Things took a turn for the worse after Alcina's initial speech. The witch was soon being reprimanded by one of the soldiers that Yggdri had not spoken with: Winters, was his name. His outburst to Alcina was a little bit extreme, considering the woman had, by all rights, only pointed out fact. Winters was trying to quantify and rationalise with what he'd seen before: He had never experienced anything like what was going to face them...At least she hoped he hadn't, for his sake.

Alcina finished off with her own small tirade, and Yggdri couldn't help but sigh heavily. it all seemed to settle down with Alcina huffing back into her seat and attending to her familiar. "If I may interject: There is little benefit in fighting with each other now. Alcina was only making a point of trying to warn you that you should go into this mission with every comparison of what to expect firmly out of your mind. This will be...nothing like anything you've ever experienced." Yggdri visibly shuddered as flashes of the violent, pseudo-apocalyptic vision returned to the forefront of her mind. She let Winters get back to talking with Calvin, while Yggdri turned to face Alcina, offering a small smile to the witch. "I like your familiar: a very handsome creature." She didn't offer anything else, despite the massing number of questions in her mind. She could have bombarded the witch with questions about her power, or her familiars, or her experiences in the real world...But Yggdri could feel the tension in the air. It was not the best idea to bombard her with questions yet. "If it makes you feel better, I am somewhat advantaged in the desert. Sand is something my magic can work well with...It is just broken down rock, after all." She tried to broaden her smile: a probably vain attempt at diffusing some of the tension that Alcina might still be holding on to. So far, she hadn't made any friends that made battles worth fighting, or acquaintances who she wished to ask more questions. So far, she had just made a rift between herself and others in the group: surely that wasn't what she wanted...Right?​

 

[Goldmarble]

Hotspur 1: Kazumasa​

He took the time of the descent to pull out a small pack of Fleer gum from a pocket, and slid out a piece to begin chewing. He looked around the cabin of the small glider, his dark green eyes taking in details of the people he was to work with.

Some odd creature he had never heard of, let alone encountered in the time he had joined the Covenant. But, that wasn't that surprising, he wasn't a researcher, or even a very active member. Most of his contact with the Covenant, was when they were actively trying to contain something in the Pacific Northwest, and they needed something strong. It seemed like the majority of the others were paying her...him...it their attention at the moment.

Before he could think much further on that, he felt something that sent and instant chill down his spine: A breeze. Sure, there was some drafts in this compact, wooden aircraft, but that was to be expected. A breeze however, seemed to trigger a primal fear in him that the aircraft had developed a problem, that it was about to rip itself apart, while they were still several hundred feet in the air. Then it passed. He looked up the hull, and in the dim light of Bill's torch, he could see the figure of Ituha, he had heard another name for her, a wind walker, or wind shifter, or something. Something to do with wind at least. She probably had something to do with it, his assumption helped him relax, as he uncurled his fingers from the straps that held him into the seat, colour slowly returning to his whitened knuckles in the darkness.

Finally an older man spoke up, responding to Ituha's comment of dreams, and hoping that people's gods aid them all tonight. He nodded, and shrugged in turn. "I wish I could say I still believe in God, as my mother wishes I did. But things have happened which have shaken by faith in the veracity of the Bible." As he spoke, it became quite apparent that he lacked any accent, other than a slightly British twist. "So, I lean towards trusting that each of you will work to the best of your abilities, at all times."​

 

[Helios]

Hotspur 2-- Lindsay Okeke​

The shivering hum was endless. Though figures ahead of him seemed to carry on conversations in the rickety glider, Lindsay was hard-pressed to concentrate on anything but his own dry breaths. The cold Egyptian air gripped his throat with each nose full of stale sweat and adrenaline; it hung to the walls of the tiny cockpit like dew. He was nauseous. The sour tingle in his jawline told him he needed to get out of this black gyrating box quick.

The crew was a cocktail of members that Lindsey did not quite understand. Apart from Julia's coarse frame and motions, the other women aboard were attractive bookish types. They reminded him of the women his father would take to theme parties where they would dress up like safari adventurers while sipping tall champagne. Lindsay was sure they had a purpose, of that he had no doubt. But they created a question of what exactly this mission was. Perhaps they were archaeologists, great thinkers sent to research some hidden wonder of the world. Or perhaps they were some manner of magicians sent to conjure some great tentacle of Cthulhu and plunge the world into blackness. Regardless of option, he was either a guard dog or a goat to sacrifice and both disgusted him. Every day he learned more of the supernatural things in this world he felt smaller. He felt like an ant crawling across the sand subject to the illogical whims of greater creatures. A small boy could burn him alive with the power of a thousand suns... he had seen it before. It took an entire platoon of rifles to bring the child down. He remembered the look in the mangled boy's eyes and the dirt that clung to his blood drenched little hands after clawing for last breath. They were eyes that were not human. They were hands that controlled the world in a way no human could.

His only reassurance was that he was not alone. Two other distinctly human trigger-puller types occupied the small space as well. They were both very alpha, very American specimens. They smelled of cheese burgers, freedom, and hollow religion. The cross necklace which "Waltzy" prayed to looked familiar, even sounded familiar against his dog-tags earlier in the flight. It was the same shape as the one Lindsay's father had worn. He remembered the feint metallic tink of metal it made when his father was fucking prostitutes and women of high standing (the two often blurred in Lindsay's mind).

As the crew bickered amongst themselves, Lindsay sat silent. It was not his place to comment. It was a merging of two very strange, very stubborn worlds. Under a stressful situation like the one they were in, there would always be a clash of cultures. Such arguments were often necessary for cohesion later down the line. They established a dynamic. The first step to trust was always communication. This time the communication was ugly, but at least the garbage was on the table. They would get over it. They would learn this was their new family.

Lindsay closed his eyes and rubbed the cool barrel of his Bren across his sweating forehead. He dreamed of footballing. He dreamed of the way the leather met his feet and trudged through the soft, red African sands. The laughs of his schoolmates echoed in his ears just as they had echoed through the metal plates of their shack town. In that moment he was naive again. There were no sorcerers or necromancers. There was only one type of life that was limited, understandable, controllable. He knew that if he survived this impact, the things he saw in these pyramids might rob him of that fantasy forever.

 

[Gat]

Nathanial Zike - Hotsur 2

The constant chatter behind him was ignored for most of their air time by Nathanial, apparently knowing how to fly a proper aircraft was qualification enough for the Order to stick him in the pilots seat for this insertion. As the rudder controls and flap peddles shook against his feet and hands he made a mental note to find out who's bright idea this had been and slap them hard... assuming they actually survived their crash landing in what Nathanial could only see as a canoe given wings. Heck there wasn't even a door on this week old prototype, they would have to remove the roof to get out once they were on the ground. He had done some reading on the craft before they had left the air field, The Hotspur was supposed to be the British Empires answer to the German DFS 230. Of course Nathanial was all for improvisation, but anyone calling the wooden frame they were in an aircraft needed their head read, it was more like an oversized coffin and the first test flight of the original prototype had been only 17 days ago. On the upside assuming they weren't killed on landing it would make for a silent entry and grant them an element of surprise... at least that was the plan as he knew it.

Their time was nearly up, soon they would be hitting the dunes and praying they were all still intact. Nathanial reached down and patted the rifle that lay strapped to the floor beside him before looking over his shoulder and taking in the men and women behind him. "Everyone grab hold of something solid... Not that Winters, none of us need to see that, thanks." he said loud enough to silence the chatter for a moment. "We'll be hitting the ground rather soon, so strap down anything lose and pray we don't get crushed by two by fours."

 

[Serene]

Hotspur 2
​

Captain Winter's handling of the Old Lady gun was equally graceful as Julia's command over the Tokarev. Elizabeth momentarily felt herself utmost lost and wondered if she would ever be able to become as fluid, but perhaps she did not have to. After all, her strength and expertise rested elsewhere and would be requested of her soon enough. "How about that, you learn something new every day," a wide, pearly smile gleamed. "Oh—my name is Elizabeth," she said and tucked a chunk of her hair aside to show her visage properly, "Milton. It's nice to meet you," she said and softly shook the captain's hand.

Elizabeth nervously gripped to hear seat and buckled up, as per Calvin's advice. She felt her palms quickly becoming slightly moist, her fingers fidgeting around the embrace of her bag of belongings, a lump of saliva forming in the throat, and her thick lashes feverishly fluttering. "It's quite alright, Mr. Walters, you need not apologize in the slightest. I shall indeed allow you and the captain the privilege of settling any physical disputes we might run into," she stuttered. Captain Winter's reassurance was equally welcomed, and Elizabeth thanked him with yet another blinding smile.

Ms. Salem's tiny outburst caught Elizabeth off guard, and she was somewhat surprised that the lady had such fire in her. The concerns that she raised were quite valid and she had a point. This was the Book of Dead and there were such vile things as Necromancers involved. Elizabeth had studied these matters, extensively, for a few weeks prior, so she was quite well-versed. However, warfare against Necromancers and the undead was something that she could do little about, except give a few pointers concerning (alleged) weaknesses that she had read about. Moments later, Elizabeth realized that Alcina's outburst was meek in comparison to Captain Winter's retort that included all manner of volumes in his voice. Strong words were thrown about, and a somewhat less elegant moment of respite followed. Yggdri's interjection in the matter was sound, and Elizabeth agreed in silence.

"Oh goodness me," Elizabeth mumbled, as Mr. Zike made known their soon to be crash landing into the dunes below. She began to breathe deeply and slowly, preparing for the worst possible scenario.

 

[Kadaeux]

The skies of Egypt... soon to be the ground... too soon. Very very soon.

In Hotspur 1 and Hotspur 2 those near a window who chose to look out would have seen that the ground was coming up to meet them as the pilots began the steep descent the gliders needed to land, the pilots meanwhile could see the Pyramids coming up and further off, they could see the Sphinx illuminated by floodlights and figures moving like ants. Zachary in Hotspur 1 could see a couple of small AAA emplacements meanwhile Nathanial counted no less than six heavy duty troop trucks, though he could fairly guess several of the trucks had carried their equipment it was still potentially a lot of Nazis.

But they could only spare the shortest amount of attention for that as the ground came up alarmingly quickly, fortunately both pilots were skilled enough to control their descent and land almost softly on the dunes... almost.

On landing the unpredictable terrain asserted itself, Hotspur 2 lost it's starboard wing as it impacted a sand dune before losing the left as the change in centre of gravity smashed the other wing into another dune. Fortunately this was not enough to cause the remnants of the craft to roll or tumble instead sliding across the sands like a cigar before partially burying itself into another dune. Hotspur 1 was less lucky, it's wings were lost and the craft began to tumble out of control as Zachary found all his control surfaces being ripped off, but fortunately everyone survived as the roof came flying off as the glider settled against a dune... everyone except for trooper Carl, where his head was nobody would ever find out, but where it had been the shards of a wing spar were embedded into the wall of the Hotspur.

---​

"FUCK ME!" Bill said disengaging his safety belts, he felt like he'd gone a couple rounds in a boxing ring with someone a hundred pounds heavier than he was. His racism and sexism was gone as professionalism asserted itself. "Disembark, quickly, then do a body check, I want to know if there are any significant injuries..." He said climbing out and checking his body for any injuries he hadn't noticed, those who had survived the landing would find that they had nothing more serious than bruising in some uncomfortable places. He looked around with his binocs and noticed Hotspur 2 had come to its landing about 300 metres away.

---​

Julia meanwhile unbuckled as soon as Hotspur 2 came to a rest. "Is everyone ok?" She asked professionally as she checked her equipment, nothing had been damaged in the crash and with Franks help she shoved off the roof of the aircraft for a quicker exit. She waited for everyone to indicate that they were alive and unharmed and climbed from the glider taking up a position and using her own binocs to locate Hotspur 1, they'd meet at Hotspur 2 due to Julia being in overall mission command but they had work to do.

"Richard, Calvin, to the top of the dune, see what you can see by the Pyramids and the Sphinx. If anything. We wait for the team from Hotspur 1, then we move." Julia said as Frank began helping people from the glider.

They were now on borrowed time... if the crash of Hotspur 1 was as nasty as it looked, the Nazis might have heard it.

 

[Tempest]

Hotspur 1 - Han Van Helsing​

It was one hell of a landing, that was for sure. His harness held him in snug, at least and rode up something fierce and pinched something he would remember for a few more days yet. Wincing, he tugs at his unmentionables and looks about at the others. He bursts out laughing and points across the way, "Ah! AHA! It looks like that Carl man could not keep his head! You get it, no?" He chuckles to himself at his joke, "It is goed, the Duetsch cannot take it from him themselves." He nods and undoes the harness, dropping to the ground with a heavy thud.

As he collects himself, he draws his P90 and points it at the bloodsucker, "Nee, you do not drink from out dead, vampier, understood?"

Hotspur 2 - Alcina Salem​

Puss was frazzled as the vessel shook and banged against the dunes, digging his claws into the small witch and drawing blood. She yowled out and clung to him, feeling frightful herself and wondering who the hell sent them in this death contraption in the first place. Next time, they were flying leisure airlines like the rich snob that was supposedly piloting what might be their coffin. As they coast to a stop, she still trembles, eyes thin slits as she stares across at the others. She bets Winters wouldn't be so quick to open his fat trap... Probably would be wrong. Julia, though, was quick to get her fat ass in gear and give orders. She takes a deep breath, though, and lets Puss jump down and releases herself, rubbing a few tender spots in decidedly unladylike manners as she speaks up, "Ma'am, hate to speak up against your orders, but just in case there are some Nastys 'Jerries' out there, wouldn't want them to shoot up our Major Toms here. Why don't you let me take a quick peek. I promise they won't see a think."

"You're free to add a pair of eyes to it, but I still need them to take a look. They're more familiar with the military aspects I need looking for, no offense madam, but while I'll defer to your judgement on matters magical, when it comes to telling the difference between a 38cm flak and an 88 I need trained eyes on." Julia said before chuckling. "And thank you for traveling on Communist airlines."

She furrows her brow before looking down to Puss and smiling, nodding to him, "Go on, bébé, you go see for me what's up there on that dune, now, you hear?" She smiles with a wide grin before rubbing her shoulder looking back for Yggdri, "You girl, you had asked me abou my bébé, Puss. Called him my familiar... Course he's real familiar like. We've been together for years now, that old wuss puss. We've a real bond, my soul brother, my eyes, my ears and the only one I can trust, I swear."

 

[Hell Hound Woof]

Dutch sat in his seat and grumbled as he heard Fullerton shouting about something. He felt for his safety belts and tried to undo them but his fingers were being stupid so he grabbed his knife and cut the main one holding him in his seat. He tucked his knife back into his belt and stood upright looking for his rifle, he was fucking pissed. He made his way out of the aircraft and looked around at their position.

"I feel sorer than a whore on a Saturday mornin" Dutch said as he stretched out and checked the damage, he looked over the glider in awe. The thing had been torn up, its wings ripped off and one of em was embedded where one of the troops head'd been. Dutch looked at the plane then realized some people were probably just sitting inside, he held his rifle at his side and went into the plane rousing people.

"C'mon yall them Jerry sunzabitches'll be here soon with all the fucking ruckus. Lets get going!" Dutch said with a smiling yell, looking around he didnt see anyone other than that poor fucker who's head was missing dead. He exited the craft and looked toward Fullerton.

"One dead, we're all pretty beat up." Dutch said his voice slightly elevated, "Whats the plan of attack sir?"

 

[Drallinix]

Adrian had strapped in next to Jace and as the plane rolled grabbed the hand rails above his head. The minute the plance mae to a stop he was out of his seat on his feet and cracking his neck. The man named Helsing pointed a weapon at him and Adrian smirked. "Don't fear I wouldn't drink from anyone so dirty as yourself or that man"
With that Adrian took off out of the plane. As he jumped out of the door and landed on the sand he walked forward ahead of the others to gaze into the night. Unsheathing his sword Adrian grinned wickedly and began to spin it around himself in his right hand. "It's about to be party time"

 

[Thomas McTavish]

Jace Morteres - Hotspur 1 - September 23, 1940 - 01:47 AM - On the ground near Cairo, Egypt

Jace held on for dear life as the glider came plummeting down, making sure to slacken his jaw as the small aircraft struck the waves of the sea of dunes so he didn't shatter his teeth. He exited the aircraft wincing in pain, clutching his crotch, and wiping another man's blood from his cheek. It doesn't matter how powerful an occultist you are; a hit to the balls is still a hit to the balls. A few deep breaths and some limping later, and he was alright. A quick check of his person and everything else was in order. A few bruises and scratches, but nowhere near as bad a poor Carl. "Mother, let his soul rest in blessed sleep, his body feed the world." he prayed for the dead man.

Throwing his hood over his head and spinning his staff a few times, Jace prepared to follow orders given. Normally he wouldn't, but not doing so could cost him his life. And that was a thing he valued having, especially in the light of having a necromancer close by.

 

[Goldmarble]

Hotspur 1: Kazumasa​

He could feel the sudden change of attitude in the aircraft, weighting his belly with lead, before tapering off as the pilot leveled the glider for landing. A sudden lurch as a wheel dug into the soft sand, pitching the small plane into a whirling tumble that resounded with cracking and popping of wood, with the deep, gutteral tearing of doped canvas as the wings ripped themselves free of the fuselage. A sudden impact, and Kazu could feel a wetness splash across his face, before that fleeting moment was torn away in the whirling cacophony that was a crash landing. As the craft settled, he blinked, catching his breath, spitting sand and a shard of wood from his mouth that seemed parched like paper.

Unbuckling himself, he rolled upagainst the pull of gravity, his side of the craft now having become, almost the bottom of the fuselage. He grimaced as he made sure he had all of his motor functions, even if his muscles spasmed in futile rebellion. Kazumasa looked around, pulling his canteen from it's pouch, and uncorking it. He took a swig of water, washing it through his teeth to get rid of the fine grit. He felt the sting of a cut inside of his cheek, and the acrid, coppery taste of blood before he spat the dirtied water out, it was then that he noticed the man who had sat beside him, a lifeless, headless figure, slouched impossibly limp on the bench. He grimaced, it wasn't the first corpse he had seen, but it was the first he had spoken with before it had died. He stooped before the late Carl, checking to see if his own gear was still with him, starting first with his mask pouch. He slipped a finger beneath the heavy canvas, and felt the smooth lacquer of the wooden mask, and a shock of energy flow through him. That was still fine. It was then that he paid attention to the commotion, and looked up to see the elder man, pointing a weapon at one of their comrades, the Vampire. Though the situation seemed to quickly resolve itself, he pointedly glared at the Hunter, and turned his attention back to Carl. He began rifling through the mans equipment; first taking one of the man's dog tags, and then locating his rifle, ammunition bandoliers, grenades, water canteen, rations and anything else useful, or that which could be used against them by the damned Nazis. They seemed to have enough problems already with people from different backgrounds being on edge, it didn't see fit to give the real enemy an advantage if at all possible.​

 

[Brovo]

Hotspur 1 - Ituha, Stone Oak​

Ituha receives the answer to her question, and while others may have flinched--most notable Van--she remained calm, and even managed a small, polite smile. "Thank you, Kani." She replied as she noticed the ground approaching rather quickly. Taking a deep breath, she holds onto her seat and shuts her eyes tight. As they crashed into the ground and tumbled, she resisted every urge to scream in panic. Banging her head against the back of the craft, she almost blacked out if not for something piece of debris whizzing past her face and cutting her cheek keeping her consciously aware of the fact that one of their comrades had just perished painfully.

When the tumbling finally stopped, she remained in a daze for a few moments. Vaguely aware of the gun being pointed at someone, she recoiled into the back of her seat. Yet, the vampire had been unhindered and unaffected by the threat, seeming to show disdain for their dead compatriot just as Van had with the comment of his blood being of lesser quality. A frown reaches her soft face, and she feels warm droplets of liquid strike her hand. Reaching up to her face, she realized that it had been cut, and sighed as she unbuckled her safety belts.

She avoided looking directly at Carl's corpse as she walked over to Kazumasa. She noted that Dutch had complained about injuries, and Jace seemed to be limping: She would have to take care of them quickly before they moved on. Still, she knelt beside Kazumasa and rested her hand gently on his shoulder. "Sorry about the breeze earlier... I meant to calm, not to make you panic for a moment." Her smile seemed to ignore the blood rolling down her cheek as Kazumasa would feel the aches and pains in his body, vanish. "There." Standing slowly, she presses her hand to her cheek. In mere moments, the wound closed itself. Wiping the blood off her cheek with her sleeve, Ituha's smile seemed a little brighter with the blood gone. "Let's try to get out of this alive. I would like to learn more about your mask, some time." She swivels her feet, turning and leaving the craft with ease as the wind itself seemed to help her climb out. Anyone looking at the time would notice the momentary figure of a wolf in the air.

Outside of the craft, she quickly moved to Dutch and grasped his hand lightly. With her smile still present, the aches and pains would leave his body too, though she said nothing. The wind followed her at her back as she moved next to Jace and grasped his shoulder. "Please don't get hurt too badly out there, or this will really drain me." The bruises on his body left him as she lets go of his shoulder and looks at Bill. There was a little fear in her eyes: She wouldn't approach to heal him. He was... An estranged man. As was Van. Both were people that could hurt her without a single regret, and might do it just for fun from her point of view. "We should... See if trouble is between us and the others, right?" Her tone held uncertainty: She was no military officer, after all.

Hotspur 2 - Calvin D. Walters​

Calvin watched as Winters and Alcina had their little spat, and shook his head as Winters offered to buy him his glass of liquor. The look in Calvin's eyes implied a little disappointment, but before he could really speak to them, Zike informed them that they were coming in for their landing. He closes his eyes tight and grasps the edge of his seat. "God watch us--" He is interrupted as the craft hits the ground, and his stomach nearly turns as he heard the wings get ripped off of the craft. When it finally comes to a sliding stop as it hits a dune nose-first, he exhales in relief. Unbuckling his safety belt, he hears Julia's orders and nods in confirmation. Before he can execute them however, Alcina once again spoke up.

Now, even he was starting to see her as a troublemaker.

Tapping her on the shoulder as she talks about her cat, he motions for her to look him in the eyes: The same disappointment he showed for Winters, he was showing for her. "Look ma'am, 'fraid to admit it, but most of our ops are into the middle of shitfuck nowhere. Soldiers know how to handle the unknown, we're presented with it every time we head out... Snipers, machine gun nests, artillery strikes, anti-tank guns, landmines... I've seen more of my friends ripped to shreds 'fer they even knew what ungodly nightmare the Krauts unleashed on em'." He glances at Julia once more, then at Winters, and finally at Elizabeth. "Yeah, she ain't a combat officer, but she's here for a reason. When you're part of a squad, you learn to trust your squad mates to do what they do best. Just as I trust that you sent your cat out because you trust it to return to you with information... You have to trust us to do our job. We'll cover you, and Lizzy will keep her head down. No reason to snap on each other... Considering that everyone in this craft is the only thing between you and a horrible, bullet-laden death... Ma'am."

With his little moralistic spiel out of the way, he steps out of the craft and looks back to Winters. Whispering, he points to the left side of a large dune. "Watch for the glint of Jerry scopes. Don't want any snipers catching us unaware now... An', bout' that drink... I'll take you on that offer." Calvin grins as he punches Winters' shoulder lightly. "Now lets move out." He heads to the west side of the sand dune. Halfway up, he drops to a prone position and crawls up the sand dune to its very edge, and pulls out a pair of binoculars. He peeks just over the edge, and starts surveying the landscape.

 

[Xytheus]

Hotspur 1

Zachary fought the joystick for control as they descended. As the aircraft tumbled he lost it. "Son if a-!" He held on for dear life as the craft rolled and lost panel after panel. After coming to a stop he checked himself for injuries. None. He pushed the shatterred canopy open and climbed out into the sand. "Sorry about that. I've never landed a glider before." He said to the rest, and made a mental note of the loss of control after descending to less than a hundred feet, in case he had to fly one again. Which he would do all in his power not to. He shook his body out to make sure nothing was broken. Nothing cracked nothing backed. his father always said. He was still trying to figure out what that meant. Even though it was dark he could still feel the heat. The dry desert wasn't his usual climate. "Now what? Those little ants at the sphinx didn't look friendly."