Their first call out was to tell the world the Atharim weren't going anywhere. Now they needed to ride of the inside issues - the ones like the Americans and the contractors. Those who weren't pure and brought in on the same level as they were. They all had to go with any traitor among them. And right now there were two holed up in one place. No better situation than to take them both out at the same time. Two against two was good odds.

Stephan Weiss and Henrik Mantere had found the safe Mr. John White ran. It was unfortunately one of the better safe houses and it would be a shame to loose it and the premiere technology but he was not Atharim - he needed to go. And the American, boy did they hate Americans.

Their plan of action was to plant explosives, and use it as a back up. The place looked like a tin can with it's exterior built out of shells. They didn't know the layout. They knew nothing more than it was a safe house.

Stephan went around the back side from a few blocks away so they wouldn't see him coming around. And Henrik got the front. He hated the front, but he'd do the job. They were to plant the remote detonated explosives all around the building. What Henrik hadn't counted on was dogs..... fucking dogs.

The dogs started barking drew attention to the front...

[[ spoke with jacinda she's using hood's safe house while the the Atharim are regrouping. Yoshi might join ya'll but dunno I sent him a message ]]

One problem with being out of country, let out alone out of continent, was that there were times when things called for his intimate attention. If he had simply been at the Legion headquarters in Sidi Bel Abbès, Algeria, it would have been a simple matter of making his way to C2 (Command & Control) and staff on hand could have briefed him on the situation. The command elements were already in place, the computers and equipment needed to liaise between troops in the field, their logistical train, and the theater command structure.

In down town Moscow, access to that sort of facility was not exactly easy to come by. At least, not at first glance.

The day had started well enough; a few minor meetings had been arranged, and Jacques and his escorts had been heading across the city to one such face-to-face with what he hoped would turn out to be an actual, legitimate investor. It was hard to find many with money in the CCD that could be bothered to care about anything outside their own borders, at least not without some hefty strings attached. Strings he had no intention of entertaining, in most cases.

Receiving a call from an unknown Algerian number had been strange enough, but he had never been one to screen his calls. To find a rather winded-sounding Legionnaire on the line, calling from a rural gas station near Sidi Bel Abbès, was certainly more unusual. The message, however, saw his entire schedule for the day wiped clean.

Legion HQ's entire command and control (C2) system had crashed, just as reports were coming in from eastern Liberia, where Legion and Sierra Leonean forces had been working closely with the reformist forces of the Liberian government and military. A sudden build up of Nigerian, Ivory Coast, and Burkina Faso forces on the border with the Ivory Coast, with the Legion and Liberian field commanders agreeing it was a sure sign of an impending invasion. And then the HQ's C2 system had failed, which Commandant Tuft suspected was the result of a deliberate cyber-attack.

That had been half an hour ago. And for much of the past twenty minutes, Jacques and three Legionnaires had commandeered a preppy coffee shop which, as luck would have it, had both an excellent internet service, AND a dozen 'smart tables.' Effectively touch-screen computers as table tops.

Their initial reception had been one of confusion and arguments as Jacques' Legionnaires displaced a dozen or so university students from their seats, and Jacques had a brief, explanatory conversation (entirely one-way) as to what was happening.

They got settled in in short order, and already dozens of screens were displayed above those tables, as Jacques was plugged into the comms feeds of a dozen Legion, Sierra Leonean, and Liberian field commanders, government representatives, and an old Canadian fellow. Colonel Commandant Sauvage, honorary commandant of the 1st Legion Artillery Battalion, a rather bold name for what amounted to little more the two battery's of Howitzers and a dedicated mortar platoon. But, it also held command over the newly acquired Liberian artillery elements. A man in his late sixties, he had not only served in the Canadian military, but had worked with the very M777s that had been sold to Sierra Leone and were now in the use of the Legion.

He had answered Jacques' call for assistance, and had been training his men on the use of those guns over the internet for the past few months.

Much of the work at the moment was preliminary and reactionary in nature; Jacques had issued a series of broad orders after inserting himself into the gap in the Legion's command structure, unifying the myriad Legion and allied forces through one C2 point, namely that small internet cafe. Initial reports had been sketchy, but a picture was already being painted as recce elements reported in on the Nigerian Expeditionary Force's movement across the Liberian eastern border.

During one brief lull, as his three Legionnaires scrambled to cope with the deluge of information and requests that were pouring through the commandeered tables, Jacques turned to look at a pair of university students, many of whom were watching the four men work with open curiosity. “Is there anything you could recommend from the menu, sir?”


The young man seemed startled at first, looking from one of the monitors that showed a live video stream from a Liberian drone that was watching a column of Nigerian APCs and LAVs advance west into Liberia. “I uhh...what's going on? There?”


Jacques looked at the boy curiously, glanced at the screen that had caught his attention, then back again, “You do not follow the news much, do you? Well, I suppose in your defense, what happens in Africa does not much concern CCD news agencies, I suppose.

“Well. Long story short, I suppose. Nigeria destabilized Sierra Leone, supplying support by way of funds, weapons, and ammunition to both sides. Leading to the civil war there. And they are unhappy that I found out about it. Even more unhappy that their efforts to sick Liberia on Sierra Leone to clean up their mess failed so spectacularly. So now they have roped their cronies into invading, in an effort to further destabilize the region. You see, Liberia is one of few nations in the region that hasn't been entirely over-run by the Sahara. Abundant water, wood. Sierra Leone, abundant natural resources. Things they can make use of once they set up puppet governments. Easily done, after you kill a few thousand people.”


The pair of students, and many of the others in the room, stared at him in confusion for a moment. Except one, a young woman who was nodding along as if she understood. “Burkina Faso and Côte d'Ivoire are allied with Nigeria, mostly due to debt and bribery. Benin is the only nation in that region that is both democratic and not in Nigeria's pocket.”
A truncated line from a text book, likely.

Jacques smiled and gestured to the young woman that had spoken up, “Who is the current president of Benin, and what is their foreign policy regarding conflict in the region?”


The girl went wide-eyed for a moment, then closed them tight and waggled her fingers in the air as if trying to sort through her thoughts, “President Derrick Fasano. From umm...Togo, somewhere? Benin has a long standing policy of opposition to any of Nigeria's foreign interests, as they still suspect Nigeria of being behind the mass crop death a few years ago?”


Jacques flashed a charming, impressed smile to the young woman, “Would you care for a job? As it turns out, I am in need of an adviser on African political affairs. I assume you are majoring in something related?”


She seemed startled again, and glanced at one of her friends for a moment, then nodded slightly, “Political sciences. We just finished a module on Africa. Ummm...what would I need to do?”


He tapped one of his men on the shoulder, and a short discussion later a new screen popped up above one of the tables, showing a rather beleaguered looking woman standing in a pleasantly adorned wood-paneled room. “Mr Danjou? I take it your offices in Algeria are up and running again?”


“Sadly, no, Mademoiselle Karthika Narang. But, if she is willing, I have my liaison officer.”
He looked from the Indian woman, a volunteer to the Legion's cause to bring a lasting peace to the region, and current Legion 'diplomat' in Benin, “Assuming this young lady is interested in the opportunity?”


He looked at the woman, who stared at him wide-eyed for a few long moments, clearly unsure what to do. “I do not mean to rush you, Miss...?”


“Karina. Uhh...Karina Rao?”


“Mademoiselle Rao. But lives are in the balance.”


She froze, eyes locked on the display of Nigerian and Burkina Faso forces advancing into Liberia. A brief war of emotions crossed her features, before she finally cleared her throat and stepped forward, taking Jacques' hand, “Uhhh...I'll do my best?”


“I know you will. Mademoiselle Narang will bring you up to speed, and explain what I'll need of you. Thank you.”
He gently urged her towards the waiting screen, and the two women began discussing the situation.

He glanced at the displays again, then back to the crowd of university students, some of whom were still recording the goings-on live on their social media feeds, Wallets held up and some babbling excitedly. His gaze landed on a pair, an idea coalescing in his mind. “You two. What are your majors?”


Another young woman lowered her Wallet briefly to glance at him, then flashed a grin, “Journalism.”


“Social Sciences. Uhh...International Law mostly?”
The young man was a bit more hesitant to respond.

“Journalism. Excellent. Care to be a war reporter, from the comfort of a Moscow cafe?”
She went wide eyed, then nodded eagerly.

“International Law? Damnably handy, when in the middle of this sort of thing. Can't exactly reach my lawyers at the moment. I need someone liaison between myself, Sierra Leone, and Liberia, to start drafting up a unified declaration of war. And a formal request of aid from Benin.”


The young man glanced at his journalist friend, who waggled her eyebrows at him and jerked her head towards the table Jacques was indicating to, clearly encouraging her friend to do it.

“Uhhh...Yeah? I mean, guess it'd look good on the resume maybe?”


Jacques laughed and nodded in agreement, “Would give you a leg up over your class mates.”


Within minutes, many of those once balking and upset university students were gathered around the tables, sharing the work load with Jacques men. It would be hours before HQ would be up and running again, and there was too much work that needed to be done too soon. He glanced at the pair of baristas standing at the closest end of the bar, watching the strange goings on. Then he pulled out his credit card, “Start a tab, would you?”

Ilesha had left Kallisti with more questions than answers, but the problem was she didn't even know where to begin with the questions. Clare and introduced her to Oriena - her boss. Oriena scared Ilesha. Rafe had been cute. She might go back just to see him.

But it had been a few days and she didn't want to go home yet. There were people like her here. Maybe she could learn something still. Or figure out what to ask. But now she still felt that draw to the monument the Ascendancy had built. If only she could figure out how it had been done so easily.

The crowd was still large around it when Ilesha finally decided to go look. She sat down on a nearby bench and looked at it. She started humming a small tune, something to distract her mind and bring the unique power to her. She let her power drift towards the monument. She now saw the threads, she sent earth and spirit to the structure and explored the exquisite piece of power wrought rock and metal. And who else knew what had been inside the original building.

Ilesha wondered if people had died....but the thought drifted away as she studied the monolith.

[ continued from Sold Out! ]

Dorian's house was a three story mansion surrounded now by an 8 foot wall of solid earth - about 10 inches thick, but Nox hadn't measured it - he and Cruz had erected to keep the Atharim out. Nox wasn't done setting up safe guards for the inevitable event of the Atharim trying to kill them. New weapons meant new experiments so Nox had a lot to play with to make Dorian's house a safe place for Dorian's family. It reminded Cruz of home with the Spanish architecture and the palm trees that required year round maintenance Christian said. Too much for Nox...

Nox used the combination Christian had given him for the side door. It was a 'servants' door, but Nox had this thing about going in Dorian's front door - very self conscious about looking like a snob. The door opened into a small entry area that lead into the kitchen. Nox liked Dorian's kitchen. It was the one room that Ana had said didn't need remodeling and Nox would agree. It was nice. Cozy and warm and had everything anyone would want.

Before he stepped into the kitchen Nox grabbed a case of beer Christian had purchased. There was no point refrigerating it when Nox or Cruz would just make it ice cold anyway. It was the the reason they had so much of it. It had become a game with Cruz. One of few weaves Cruz was allowed to do without supervision. Nox wasn't about to let Cruz hurt himself so long as Dorian continued to pay the bills. He normally wasn't so cautious.

Nox wove a weave of air and pulled the basement door open. It was one reason why Nox liked the side door. The kitchen and the basement were his two domains he felt comfortable in. He hated wandering to his bedroom at night. He chose to most nights only because there was a warm body in his bed. Some nights though he needed space and slept in the small 'servant's room with a twin bed a desk and a small dresser of drawers with no door on the room. Christian had a room down here as well but he never used it - Ana wouldn't let him sleep down here anyway, but it was his own space. Nox liked their arrangement.

Down stairs was shaping up. The large area down the stairs was still mostly incomplete, but Nox and Cruz had managed to rubberize the floor. It had taken a lot of work to put the rubber coating down. Air had worked well in spreading it out evenly. But it was still manually and mental labor. Cruz hated doing manual labor, it was one reason why Nox made him do it.

The weights from Dorian's boxes had been set up with a punching and speed bag sat in the far corner with a ceiling to floor mirror to check out form.

Under the stairs down into the basement Sage had carved out a space for himself. It was basically where he sat while Nox practiced weaving and fighting and just about anything else he could think of to do downstairs without having to go upstairs. Sage rarely left his side which was odd, but comforting in a weird sort of way. He wasn't clinging to him in a bad way. More like they shared the "I'm uncomfortable here" vibe. When Nox and Cruz were gone to Moscow University Sage stayed in his hiding spot too. He never really left the corner under the stairs except to sleep in his bed upstairs or to eat.

There was a couch sitting just outside the rubberized floor for people to watch. Or just gather. Sage and Cruz wanted to bring video games into his sanctuary and Nox veto'd it. They'd get broken. Which is why Sage pulled his things underneath the stairs. A stray fireball almost took his laptop out one day.

Nox set the case of beer on the floor under the stairs, it was safest there and pulled out two beers. He purposefully grabbed the power and slowly wove the ice weaves to chill them. If Jay could see the threads he'd see it - know what he was doing. It would be an interesting talk.

Nox handed Jay one of the beers after opening both with a quick twist of air and tossed the caps into a bucket nearby. Nox waved his hand to the couch for Jay to sit and Nox walked into the room he sometimes stayed to grab a clean t-shirt. The shirt he bought was just not going to cut it anymore. It was itchy and made Nox shiver in disgust. As he walked he asked, "While you were talking about my reason for killing that guy, you were thinking about something else. You think you can manage that emotion again? Those exact feelings?"


Nox disappeared into the room and came back out with a new shirt. He pulled the other one off and flipped it into the air and burnt it. It was nothing but ash by the time it hit the floor. Nox sat down on the rubberized part of the floor in front of Jay as he pulled on the t-shirt. His shoulder was staring to ache from where the creature had grabbed him and he hadn't thought to look at how bad it bruised while passing the mirror - later he thought to himself.

Sierra had sent a text - however awkwardly to the number Elyse had needed. The number was the only one she had saved a contact to in her wallet. Something she'd purchased with major hesitation. She didn't like the technology, but she needed to keep in contact with clients. Work had never really been something Sierra needed to worry about, but she couldn't live in Moscow on her wildlife photography alone.

She sat down on the large couch waiting for her friend to come in. Her back was too the door, her camera she held in her hand while she focused on the far wall. There was an interesting collection of things on shelves - almost like someone's living room. The light came in perfectly casting some of the pieces in shadow and others in radiant light.

Sierra had spent the rest of the night sketching out the image of the tattoo the man wore on his arm - his left arm. It was significant. She'd known it then, and she knew it now.

The wolves were too far away, they were just a ghost on her mind. She missed Snow, and missed the wolves. Now that the weather was warmer maybe she'd spend time with the pack. Maybe Elyse would like to go.

A large tea cup sat virtually untouched next to the sketch that had taken all night to draw. It wasn't Sierra's talent, but she could manage with some degree of realism. It at least looked like the one in her memory.

In the dream memories had been sparse - addled with sleep and mystery, but Sierra remembered the moment she woke the woman from her dream. They'd met before - not for long - and in another case of the bizarre. Sierra wondered how that emo boy was doing - Elias. And if Jaxen was alright, the man had been naked in the snow and yet he didn't show any signs of ill treatment or frost bite. Everything seemed to be weird around Moscow...

Sierra knew she was in the dream long before it became apparent. It always felt different, the way the senses came, how the dream flickered and she was aware of the changes. Sleeping in the dream world was different than the the wolf dream.

And even this was different, it was more like watching a dream - maybe someone else's dream? Sierra didn't understand the dream. None of it.

A series of images flashed passed her a man and and a young woman. There is an argument. Tempers fly. The general feeling of familial ties - father and daughter. The argument is confusing. Death, assassination?

The two part, a rift forms between them. The tie that bound them broken. Sierra's heart sinks as they part ways forever.

Sierra walks after the girl, maybe she can help her...

The scene before her flickers and another one appears. Two men fighting. Again there is a family tie between them. A woman nursing a child looks on, she's tied to one, but the baby tied to another. Sierra watches as each person crumbles into ashes. Their lives broken. More loss...

Sierra turned a different direction - there was nothing to save here.

Another man and woman appear before Sierra. The dagger through the heart. Sierra collapsed to her knees as the daughter died. Why was the dream showing her these things? She wanted out - she opened her eyes and was crying. She missed Snow even more now, the warmth and comfort of her friend was gone.... all those families lost.

(( Just a time filler - I have no point to the thread. Feel free to jump in ))

Things with Dane had gone differently than expected. Promises were made - plans started. Aria was still reveling in the fact that Dane was back. The call of her power made walking the halls of the Kremlin difficult. The raw need to hurt was calling and Aria had to keep herself far embedded in her emotionless bubble. Not for her own safety - but for that of others. She was certain that the Ascendancy would only be so lenient.

The ZARS agents were scouring Moscow looking for any sign of the Regus. Aria gave them the location of several safe houses the Atharim commonly used. But she kept the ones with the most to lose a secret from her new found lackies. They didn't like reporting to her. But would Aria didn't like reporting to an unknown factor either. Her ZARS handler was still her handler. He was the intermediary between the agents and herself. She had never laid eyes on them.

Aria told them of the weapons used to fight Ascendancy earlier, but as of yet none of the safe houses had yielded any. They had only the two devices that she and Martin had carried, and they were likely damaged from the fight. Aria still missed her sword - she had nothing right now except her hands, and it bothered her a great deal. The need for the long duster type coat was unnecessary yet that was the first purchase Aria made. She would recover her sword! If she didn't she would make her case known to the Ascendancy himself. To have the ear of such a powerful man was almost as intoxicating as her own ability.

Today, Aria was searching the ruins of the Baccarat Mansion. She needed to see if Nox had a map of the tunnels still - it was the only logical explanation. How did the Regus get out with nothing capturing him on camera.

Aria crouched on the perimeter of the ruins thinking, as she absently fingered a piece of charred concrete. Where had the Regus gone? Why has he not reached out to the network...

There was a day and age when Methos would have done little preparation for a concert. There was also a day and age when Methos was young and spry and not age worn - or worn from having a child. He loved Chris who was happily hanging out in his dressing room with Bradley and Kay. The little one wasn't quite so little anymore. The past two years had shown much progress in the growing of a little boy from a toddler they had adopted.

Troy and Bev were in the arena setting up - doing their thing with this new fathomed magic he'd known about for a few years now. The world was just finding out. Methos was half tempted to bring Troy up on stage and preform some of his spectacular scenes with the crowd but he wasn't sure it would be well received. And Troy wasn't exactly a showman. It had taken Methos months of cajoling to get Troy to do the pyrotechnics from backstage.

Bev on the other hand took little to convince - she was a music major and knew exactly what Methos had been looking for. It was the perfect team. But did he want to tell the world? That was his big question.

But he had had to put that aside when it came time to warm up. Dancing and singing might look easy, but it hardly was. Methos had to warm up his voice and his body before even stepping foot on the stage. And both were getting more difficult with age.

And that wasn't even the icing on the cake - he still had to pick an outfit for the night. He was looking for something to be proud of - something that said the world was changing and with it so was Methos. He even planned on debuting a new single - he hadn't told Bradley yet or Kay for that matter. But the band knew his plans - everyone but his fans and the two closest to him. Methos loved to surprise people.

The show tonight was sold out - it had sold out quickly. Kay said there was some sort of glitch in the system and a couple dozen VIP tickets got oversold. Really wasn't that big of a deal. The more the merrier Methos thought... and he was Methos at the moment - Adam was still wishing he was in bed with his husband and son waking up from an excellent nights rest in a great city and a great hotel. But tonight was about Methos - and he didn't regret it one once. He loved to be him.

Or is that assimilated??

Anyone else hear that the collective has fallen? I've got it on good authority that Ph4s3r has gone missing. 3ff3rv3sc3nt has been looking for him all over. You'd think she'd keep better track of her boyfriend. I hear The Den is shot too - whatever protections the collective gave them have all but vanished. Everything in the server room is gone and no one knows what happened.

~Pierc3

Sage was still getting used to the house he was staying in. Everyone seemed cool for uptight rich folk anyway. Nox seemed to fit right in, though he hung out more in the kitchen and the basemen than in the lounge or study or anywhere other than his and Elyse's room. Sage still found that fact a bit mind boggling - Nox had a girlfriend.

But it kept him in check none-the-less. At least for now. Nox was downstairs in his makeshift gym throwing fireballs... it looked more like dancing to Sage with the way his friend's body moved from position to position with the occasional fireball thrown at the opposite wall only to hit a barrier of air Nox had created.

Sage sat at the top of the stairs well away from any dangerous play as he used a laptop. There was no need for pain meds, but he was still taking anxiety meds because of the lack of connection. But the dosage went lower and lower each day as he adjusted to his new life - Sage could only hope that one day the implant would work again. Hacking by hand had proven to be difficult. Even setting up the secure line for Elyse was something he had to reteach his fingers how to do.

Sage's wallet rang and he picked it up. "Hey."
His voice was chipper and he was truly happy to hear from Sasha, but it had to be late over there.

Sasha's voice on the other hand was concerned. "You heard from Bryan?"

"No. Why?"


"He's not been around for days. Last thing I heard was he was using the collective to hack the Kremlin. Something in your honor I think. At least that's the rumor going around the dark web."

"What?"


"I'll let you know what I find out but I wanted to check in with you? How's the little brother treating you?"

Sage grinned. "He's excitingly ignoring me right now."


"I'm sure you are bored out of your mind out there - no connection - no hacking."

Sage shrugged but knew Sasha couldn't see it. "Actually, I'm not. I like the view. And Nox's friends are cool. Cruz likes to play video games so I'm good."


"Alright. I'm gonna make some other calls. Find out what happened to Bryan. Call me Sage, I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine. Aurora's brother is taking good care of me. I promise - set me up in a mansion and everything."
With that little tidbit of gossip Sage hung up with a smirk.

Sage wondered what had happened to Bryan... but when Sage looked up he noticed there was no more view and Nox was standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up with a smirk on his face.


Edited by Sage, Jan 17 2017, 02:11 PM.