A young man was specially delivered to the hospital ER when he collapsed in the arrival area of the airport. On his wallet was a document that was titled "In Case of Emergency". Inside the document was contact information for the doctor the young man was to be meeting and express instructions to only take him to this hospital where Dr. Marcil worked.

Nurse Yvette had found the young man lying in a catatonic state on the floor. Now he was resting comfortably in the emergency room waiting his turn. He was out of the woods for now, though he had yet to regain consciousness. Or was very good at pretending to be asleep. There were several files on his wallet labeled medical records but Yvette hadn't opened them - rather she was unable to open them they were encrypted with some pass phrase she hoped Dr. Marcil would know. But Dr. Marcil was unavailable for the next few days as he was away on business. When she'd called him, he said, "The boy will be fine. Keep his medication the same. Just monitor him. I will be back tomorrow."

Yvette waited for the doctor who would eventually admit the boy. His wallet continued to beep with incoming messages. She thought about answering them, but she didn't feel right, she'd already invaded his privacy once. But sound was adding to her headache - she needed a breathe of fresh air real quick. She out the sliding doors to find some - he was perfectly safe where he was now and not really her problem,

****

The beeping of the monitors woke Sage. His hold body hurt like he'd been dropped from upon high. He knew he was in a hospital, he could tell just from the smell. But the place was busier than his last room. He sighed when his wallet buzzed. He squinted his eyes open to find the offending equipment, it was across the room on a chair with the rest of his things. He sighed - hospital gowns sucked.

Sage opened his eyes fully and tried to get a good look around. Short of the fact that there were signs hanging in Russian as well as English, it didn't look that different from the last hospital he was in.

His wallet buzzed again and Sage tried to move to get out of the bed without yanking the IV from his arm, or completely showing off his backside...

The wall rang. Jaxen spied the sender and considered ignoring the call. In the end, he activated the feed and the video sprang to life. "Hi mom,"
he said and stood in front of the bed to block the array of clothes laid out behind him.

His mother was a beautiful woman even at her age. Having bore a number of children, and Jaxen the youngest, she had her years on her, but she wore them like a gilded swan. Her dark hair curled softly upon her shoulders. Her deep eyes were caverns that pierced straight to his heart. She could always see through him. Jaxen said that she was the only person alive that could know when he was truly drunk.

"Jaxen, I see you bought a plane ticket. Why are you going west?"

He figured she'd be alerted by the purchase. Not that money meant anything to her, but it may seem odd. Jaxen rarely traveled to western europe. He disliked the region. "I thought I'd do a little sight-seeing before the world goes to hell."


She didn't buy it, but either she didn't care or she knew the real truth. Scion probably shared with his ex-wife the nature of Jaxen's extracurricular activities. No doubt she didn't approve. "Alright son, but you be safe and do not end up in jail. I don't like Ireland any more than you do, and I do not want to fly out there to get you."

Jaxen smiled, "Of course, mother."
He closed the screen and finished packing.

The flight was so freaking boring. He hated airplanes. Unless he was the pilot. He once took lessons for six months just so he could steal a small private jet out of a hanger. Now that had been a fun trip. But flying commercial from Moscow to Dublin was almost not worth any sword of Nuada, even if it was made of light.

Honestly, he'd never been to Ireland, or what was left of Ireland after the CCD swallowed it. Except for the name, when he landed in Dublin, it didn't seem that different than what he imagined. Except the air seemed to stink. Weird smells. Grassy. And like sheep shit. Or maybe that was all in his head. Neither did he like beer. He preferred vodka, like a good Russian. The accent was atrocious. He felt like they spoke a foreign language. Seemed everyone else thought the same of him. He had to say the name of his hotel three times to the cab driver before he understood. Jaxen, in no mood to deal with translating from English to jibberish or whatever they spoke in this city, rolled his eyes and all but fell asleep in the back seat of the cab on the way in. The hotel was in downtown Dublin.

When they arrived, he entered a hotel that looked like it was a former fortress. Unlike castles as one pictured in their mind, this was not as cool as that. The walls were stone alright. The doors heavy. The lighting poor. The toilets tiny. The beds uncomfortable. He was about to turn around and go find a real hotel when he caught a flash of a dark-haired woman at the check-in desk. She wore a snug pencil skirt, high heels and a button-down blouse that seemed about to burst at the bust.

He promptly waltzed straight to the desk, scrubbed a hand through his hair and waited in line behind her, not at all minding the wait.

Just started my own thread of stuff to go on the wiki rather than keep PM'ing thal. This way she can stay more organized and up to date. *grin

Entry: Jai Asad Kojima


3rd Age life

Origin: Tar Valon

Occupation: Was raised to be an accountant and apprentice banker but became an Asha'man of the Black Tower

Age: Late 20's

Channeler: Learner, found by testing. Strong enough to Travel, only slightly more than average Asha'man strength. Learned very quickly due to his OCD habits.

Important relationships :

Zakar Kojima - eldest brother. Strict, professional, germophobe, OCD tendencies, married with two children and having an affair with a barmaid named Jaslene. One of her children may be his. Has a terrible temper. Manipulative and controlling of Jaslene. Brilliant accountant and chief executive in charge of the Kojima banking house.

Andreu Kojima - middle brother. Wild, outgoing personality. Life of the party. Wildly paranoid and bipolar. He tends to go on months long disappearances. Gambler. Drunk. Good at knife fighting and fisticuffs. He is a financial officer at the banking house.

Jai Asad Kojima - youngest brother. OCD habits as a child, probably was the most well balanced of the three brothers. But the taint touched his tendencies and he became wildly paranoid, sometimes with good reason, and marked OCD habits, especially when uncomfortable and stressed. Something of a mathematic genius, he can perform complex equations in his head. The Black Tower made use of his talents as a code-writer and breaker. Namesake of Asad Kojima.

Asad Kojima - The Malkieri great-father whose bride to be was found by Aes Sedai and sent to be a novice in the White Tower. When she was put out after refusing the Arches, she stayed in Tar Valon and Asad abandoned his life in Malkier to be with her. They founded a small banking house with what fortune he had. It is his sword that became the heirloom passed down from father to son ever since. The sword was destined to become Zakar's.

Jon Foxsus - Owner of the Golden Fox inn and tavern. He was Jai's best friend growing up despite the enormous gap between the two families in social structure.

Jaslene (Foxsus) Basinthe - Jon's sister. Jai's first love and boyhood crush. He wanted to propose to her but was distracted by the testers from the Black tower. After being discovered he could channel, he never got the chance. She has red curly hair, a bubbly personality and big smile. She's now having an affair with Zakar, and she never loved Jai the way he loved her.

Mikel Basinthe - Jai and Jon's other best friend growing up. He became a Tower Guard, just like Jai always planned to do (he was going to blow off the banking business and become a Guard). He ended up marrying Jaslene.

Lt. Tomdry - a veteran lieutenant in the Dragon's Legion. On a campaign near the blightborder, he led the charge to save the life of a single Asha'man that had become so exhausted and wounded, he foolishly took on a Fade single-handedly, sword to sword. The Fade cut him down, slicing up his belly, and Tomdry and his men valiantly charged. They killed the Fade, but at the cost of all their lives, and saved the Asha'man so he could be healed. That Asha'man was Jai in his first battle after gaining the Dragon pins. The tale was sung by a gleeman (Byron Calanail) in the Golden Fox, and while Jai's name was left out, he recognized the tale as his own.

Daryen Daimon - Asha'man king of Arad Doman. Much stronger in the power than Jai. He is the one Jai reported to in Arad Doman to aid in battling the ongoing seanchan presence. They've been good friends and lovers for some time, although not in a romantic relationship per say. Jai also serves as a level of protection for Daryen and stays near him in court when not dismantling seanchan damane-houses, and was bonded by him for that purpose.

Fate Sedai - A sitter of the Brown Ajah and Daryen's sister. Her machinations got Nythadri involved in plots in Arad Doman, entangling her with Jai. Jai met her in the Golden Fox, and made a bet to eat an entire ghost pepper without passing out. In exchange, he would get to ride one of her prized Razors. He survived, but accidentally blinded himself when he rubbed his hands in his eyes. He had to be healed to see again.

Lennox Orander - A very powerful Asha'man in the Black Tower and a blade master.

Araya - Asha'man of the Black Tower and former Tinker

Nythadri Vanditera - An Accepted of the White Tower that sees Jai as more than an an insane dangerous Asha'man

Edited by Jay Carpenter, Oct 6 2016, 04:36 PM.

continued from here

Sasha couldn't come with him to Moscow, he was only slightly disappointed as she left him at the security check point. She kissed him on the cheek before he stepped through the metal detectors. He of course set the alarm off. Sage handed the security man a letter from his doctor - foreign object in his head. Nothing he can do about it.

The note was not the only thing he'd been given by the doctors there. He had more pills than he could count - antibiotics, steroids, and various kinds pain medications. Three of them he had to take otherwise he could keel over in a few days and he'd never get to Moscow. Sasha had insisted he set alarms to remind himself to take the pills since he knew how absent-minded he could be.

They still searched him with the wand and found nothing.

Once he'd cleared security Sage turned around and waved at Sasha. He might not ever see her again. Sage grabbed the laptop case and his carry-on and headed for his departure terminal. Everything was fuzzy because of the meds. He was surprised he could walk just fine. But Sasha and Bryan had programmed his wallet to navigate him to his terminal, through his layover in Amsterdam and finally get him to the luggage carousel in Moscow. The airline knew that he was heavily medicated and someone was sent to find him.

Sage had never really left Alexandria, DC didn't count, it was within walking distance - though he usually rode the train. The fact that his first trip out of Alexandria was also out of the country was not lost on Sage. He wasn't exactly afraid of flying. The idea that he'd have to take the wireless dongle from the port out and turn it off had kept him land bound most of his life. The loss of information flow was worse than withdrawal from caffeine or any thing else he'd come down from. He didn't need any drugs when all he had to do was plug in. There was no fear this time he couldn't feel anything. There was no anxiety, no withdrawal symptoms. Everything was being masked by the foggy feeling and the utter lack of anything going on in his head.

***

The flight to Amsterdam was long. Sage sat in first-class by the window, a young man sat next to him. He wore a suit which couldn't have been comfortable for the amount of time they'd be flying to Amsterdam. He was cute but Sage could barely form more than a few words after he'd taken the pain bills. So he let himself drift off into oblivion. He didn't sleep exactly, his thoughts lingered on memories, on bits of code he ran through his mind without thinking about it. It was odd not getting feedback, but Sage could almost see the results as he drifted in this space of nothingness.

He landed in Amsterdam with only a slight fog to his head. He had managed to eat and drink before they landed and was relatively ready to start the next leg of the trip in four hours. Thankfully the man who'd sat next to him was also going to Russia. Sage smiled. "Why did you wear a suit all the way from DC here?"


The man looked across the seats at Sage and frowned. "I'm meeting business partners on this leg of the trip, I wasn't sure if I'd have time to change."

"Are they late?"


The man shook his head. "Not yet. Our flight doesn't leave for four hours. But I've been late before and I didn't want to take that chance this time."

"You make this trip often then?"


"Yes. Moscow is our main head quarters so I travel back and forth a lot."

"What do you do?"


"I'm a software developer."

Sage grinned. "Fancy that."


"What do you do if you don't mind me asking?"

"A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Currently I'm being employed to white hat for a software company. They are developing a new firewall and I'm the lucky one who gets to break it."


The man raised his eyebrow. "You wouldn't go by the handle of Phaser would you?"

Sage laughed. "You know a hacker isn't going to just say yes to that right?"


The young man moved closer and leaned in to whisper, "That little fuck head is toasting all our work."

Sage chuckled knowingly "Isn't that his job? So you write better code so hackers like him don't break in. Or at least give them something to work really hard to get in?"


"The guys not even human. They say he's an AI."

"So your company is stupid enough to pay a supposed AI hacker top dollar all because he's noted as one of the best?"


"So you are saying he's not an AI?"

"Not to my knowledge. He lives and breathes as best as the next man."


"You know him?"

"I know of him. I've worked with him."
Sage could barely keep from laughing. It wasn't everyday you get to hear people bash you to your face or see the awe in their face when they speak of your work. Today must be his lucky day.

***

The last leg of the trip was just as uneventful as the first. Once Sage had gotten on the plane in his first class seat by the window he downed another pain pill. He was slowly going to become an addict if he had to keep popping them like he was. He was not eager to go under the knife while wide awake. Those memories still woke him up late at night. It was the worse thing to wake up to.

Sage found himself at the carousel before 4 pm. Apparently Nox was not one for being early. He sent Annoying little brother a regular text message telling him he was the arrival area since that's where he ended up while walking around.

Sage sat down a little bleary eyed from all the travel to wait.


Edited by Sage, Oct 5 2016, 07:59 PM.

Just wanted to let everyone know that HQ is burning and the fire will eventually burn the place to the ground. Anyone is free to RP getting out or getting any of their stuff they want out. Be advised that are Atharim safe houses that should be available should you need them. And that before long, you should be expecting contact via your wallet (and/or PM).

The damage done could potentially make tracking people hard, so any who wish to slip through the cracks have that opportunity now.

Have fun.

R.

The phone rang and an elbow jabbed him in the ribs.
"Who is calling at this hour?" Safa grumbled.
Carl snatched the wallet from the bedside table, rubbing his eyes as he did. When he saw the number he immediately sat up.
"I will take this in the kitchen," he said. Slipping his feet into houseshoes, he quickly shuffled out of the room. Safa was asleep again before he even shut the door.

Navigating the dark apartment by the light of the wallet, he answered the moment he entered the kitchen.
"Carl Kincaid," he said softly so not to waken Safa. Their apartment was tiny, only three rooms. In the central district of Moscow, it was all they could afford.

The voice on the other end spoke a few moments, then Carl felt the blood drain from his face. He rushed to the wall screens and padded the command for the tv.

Drenched in the blue light of the news, he absorbed the scenes on replay. Two ambulances departed the gates of the Kremlin. He put a hand to his forehead, jaw dropped wide when the images of the hospital interior were played. He immediately recognized the images as derived from hospital security feeds, and a knot formed in his gut.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes." He flipped on the coffeemaker and hurried to dress.

***

Thirty-two minutes later.

Carl cursed himself for forgetting his coat. All he had was the rumpled jacket of his suit, which he huddled down into for warmth. The pre-dawn air was frigid.

He anticipated the building that housed the Consulate on Digital Strategy and Security to be dim and empty. Instead, he found it bustling and bright. He must not have been the only one to get a call to come in.

Fumbling with his badge between numb fingers, he paused to look down the street just as the door unlocked. The Red Square lay three blocks away and even from this distance he could make out the noise of crowds and see the lights of the Kremlin reflected on the low-hanging clouds overhead. To think the place was nearly obliterated tonight, he shivered and ducked in.

A series of security measures awaited passage. Handprints, retinal scan, even a quick read DNA sequencer were required. Soon, he gained full admittance to the heart of Custody digital security Consulate. As a strategist, he only had his cubicle, but as he passed the director's office, he knocked on the window to alert them he had arrived. The scent of fresh coffee was heavy on the air. He poked his head in the door as the director looked up from his desk. The man was in his late fifties with thin gray hair and a square jaw. Like Carl, he wore a rumpled suit. He also dressed in a hurry. Carl hated to know who it was that called the director in the middle of the night to get to work.

"I'm getting coffee and I'll get right to work."

He dropped his stuff at his cubicle, snatched his usual cup, wiped it out with his sleeve and stalked off to the break room.

Victoria had flown one time in her life before this. That was to Jerusalem, to be stationed down in Dominance V. That was, of course, disregarding various flights in military planes and aircraft. Those has been loud and hot with different men shouting down her earpiece. None of that here, fortunately. It wasn't even that long ago, only a few years, yet it seemed more along a decade, at the very least. Then again her whole life felt like that now. A year and two months since the Third's stand at Amman. Almost a year to the day channelling. A month since the cave with that... thing. It was enough to make her head spin. It was hard enough getting past being a Colonel, and having just turned twenty four. Now she was on a plane to meet with General Bader Koertig in Moscow; and in First Class, no less. First class was weird. She had her own seat, an actual comfortable one, and someone had brought her champagne. When was the last time she had champagne? Sipping from the glass reminded her why it had been so long, and she sat it down with a grim twist to her mouth. Memories of choking down the bubbly drink at her promotion dinner surfaced, accompanied by frozen smiles for all the other officers shaking her hand. She'd still been in shock at that point.

She didn't belong here. Looking around, Victoria sunk further into her seat at another look at her fellow passengers. All of them were dressed... well. Dresses, some in suits. Expensive, tailored clothes, jewellery that probably cost more than her annual wage. Victoria had just wanted to dress comfortably for the long flight, knowing she'd arrive in freezing cold Moscow when they landed. Fur lined boots, leggings, and her leather jacket over a long sleeved top. Simple. Stanko could have told her he'd arranged First Class. Still, she'd have to thank the old man. He'd taken in the list of names she'd sent too. Agh, thinking about that made her think of the speech shed had to give to the regiment, and she didn't want to dwell on that. Victoria had teetered on the edge of professionalism there. She was going to miss them.

Getting on board to her first class eat had been trouble enough. Her hand strayed to the holster under her jacket. Well what did they expect her to do! Leave it in her bag? At least Victoria had the grace to approach the airport guards and explain that she had a gun on her. When they had, probably understandably, overreacted she couldn't even touch it to use her power to calm their nerves. That would probably have gotten her shot. The proof of her rank had snapped them to attention instead, and after a short discussion, she'd been ushered on board, firearm still hidden under her clothes. Even if they had made her put it under her shirt too. The real confusion had started when they had gently driven her to the front of the plane. Victoria hoped her baggage was actually in the plane after the confusion. It was absolutely terrible of her admittedly, but one bag was just filled with rugs. In her defence they were beautiful craftsmanship and she wasn't leaving them behind. It was... an excusable memento. Sure. Go with that.

Before she could start grumbling to herself, Victoria stopped that. Here she was on a First Class flight, going to personally meet with the General of the Ground Forces, and all that she could do was find reasons to complain. Opa would have her skin tanned for that rudeness. She gave a small smile to herself at the thought of her bustling grandfather; she could just see his great, grey moustache twitching away in her head. He'd be proud of her, if she ever found the time to go home. His little cadet, all grown up. Eyes fluttering closed, Victoria let out a small yawn, snuggling back into the cushioned seat. Four hour flight. May as well catch up on some of the rest that had been nonexistent over the past few days.

Tracking wasn't hard, not when you knew the signs. As far as Seth was concerned, in that way the creepy ass tunnels under Moscow might as well have been tall grasses in New Mexico. It'd taken more than a little effort to shake the damn kids Reggie'd saddled him with. Hell, Seth guessed he should've been impressed with that. The little bastards were learning. Granted, most of that was probably just Fridge doing his computer wizardry. Damn cameras,
Seth thought. The forests and mountain ranges in the US where monsters preferred to hide usually didn't have security.

When Seth found his way into the Undercity, or whatever the hell the locals called it, it was mostly just boredom. He needed to think, and it turned out that when you couldn't take a walk in the woods on account of all the concrete, a tunnel that smelled like piss and poor people worked just fine instead. But then, as he went deeper, he started seeing the signs. Claw marks on the walls, animal bones and carcasses torn apart like a rabid mountain lion went hunting. And that smell... not the piss and poor people; something worse. When Seth realized the last other person he'd seen shuffling around was more than ten minutes ago, he wasn't surprised. He was also damn glad his sunglasses had a land warrior setup; Seth flicked on the night vision.

"Well, I'll be damned,"
Seth muttered to himself, "They've got fuckin' Oni runnin' loose down here."
He considered calling in the boys for a moment, but then he looked around. Flexed a couple muscles because damn if he didn't look good for his age. My age?

He had a few magazines stashed in his jacket, and his daddy's 1911 never left his side. A good .45 could put down a bear if you hit it in the right spot, so he damn well wasn't worried about Bigfoot's actually existing cousin. Even if that all failed, the Bowie knife was in its spot on his belt.

Seth tipped his hat back and took a breath. Fuck it, this was gonna be good for him. The old tunnels were a crisscross of what looked like centuries of Russians wanting to move shit around the city without worrying about sunlight. Explains why they're all so God damn pale.


Seth traced his way along the tunnels, and the Oni weren't exactly hiding. A clawed footprint in decades old dust here, a splatter of blood a week old there, and... Hello.



About thirty feet up, Seth could see a break in the tunnel wall. He hugged the wall and inched forwards slowly, daddy's pistol drawn and pointed straight ahead. As he got closer, the signs that he'd found what he was looking for got clearer. There'd been a lot of false trails Seth'd had to back off from, but judging by the fresh trail of blood coming down the tunnel ahead and turning into the hole, there was a pack of Oni on the other side of the wall.

Now, shit. All I've gotta do is catch me some trophies.



Edited by Seth Marx, Oct 4 2016, 01:28 AM.

Manix needed a break. A break from research, a break from training, a break from channeling. He decided to walk down to the docks to scout out new property for the expatiation of the fleet heading his way. He needed more dock room, storage facilities and Guard houses. He smiled, some break, but he walked slow.

The Lir Compound look amazing from the outside and complimented the mansion perfectly. The rest of the neighborhood was in shambles. "The Kid" a Jr Marine had reported back to him that the contractor's workers lived in poor housing conditions. They had seen too much of Manix's power and he had set up a health care clinic as a bribe, but now he was thinking of doing more.

Manix wanted to follow in the example of his father, Larson Lir', whom used part of the early fortune to build housing for those in need upon the isle of Mann. and within a few years he commanded the locality of the whole Isle simple with generosity. Manix would do the same for this neighborhood.

Manix pulled out his wallet and tapped out a quick message to Chief: "Chief please buy up all property within a 12 square block radius of compound, or within main street/highway arteries. I'll take care of the contractor."
With that done Manix let his mind rest and enjoy the pleasant walk to the river side docks.

Ana had kicked all the men to the basement. Cruz and Christian were downstairs doing whatever it was that Nox had been teaching her son. Ana didn't want to know the dangerous things that boy was teaching her son, but Cruz was definitely becoming a different man. Not cocky persay, but more confident in his natural born abilities. He'd always been gifted - now he was doubly so. The idea that her son came with these powers scared her - they frightened Dorian even more. She'd found her husband pacing the halls of the third floor that morning, she'd invited him into her sitting room and they talked. Christian had set an alarm for 4am and had gotten to work early. But Ana knew that it was because the new young man in their care was up at 4am and already working downstairs in the basement.

Dorian left then to catch a few hours of sleep before he was off in the morning as well. Ana's day was planned to the fullest. There was a great deal of redecorating that would be done and today she hoped that the little wolf girl would help with Nox being away. Cruz was going back to school so Nox would be away.

Ana sat in the kitchen waiting for the only other female body in the house to join her. Ana sipped at her coffee and nibbled at her egg white omelet. When the girl walked in Christian set coffee and a plate of breakfast on the seat next to Ana's and then left the kitchen for some much needed girl talk. Ana smiled. "How did you sleep, Elyse? Your boy was up early again."