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Shade Sentinel

Adventure! RPG: Adventures of the Mystical and Mundane - IC

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November 11th, 1924

-Milledgeville, Ga. United States

She ran as if she were being chased by the devil himself; maybe she was! She had been taking some laundry down to the creek when she heard curious noises by the barn. She put down her clothes by the river and moved towards the invasive sounds. She only saw it for a second, but that was enough. It had fur like a beast, but stood upright like a man. As if it new when she came around the bend, it turned to face her with eyes that glowed yellow and surreal. She didn't think, she ran.

Never looking back to check for the pursuit until now, the young womans pace began to slow. She had been running for what seemed like hours, no chance it kept up the pursuit. I should never have gone looking for it. IT IT...what was IT? Her memory of the moment crept back into her head as she peeked around trees into the approaching dark of dusk. Back the way she came was clear, no animals, certainly no monsters. She decided perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her, she headed home.

She took four steps before she realized that she was on her side in the mud and the air was gone from her lungs. What happened? Panicked she tried to cry out but she couldn't...hear heart began to beat so fast it tryed to burst from her chest. Then she saw it again.

It loomed over her as she had remembered. Tall, hairy, yellow eyes that betrayed a strange intellect.

Please. Please I have a baby. These thoughts were lost on the way to her mouth. Nothing came out. She had time enough for a single tear to fall from her left eye, before the creature moved in and grabbed her stunned body...carrying it off into the night.

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November 14th, 1924

-Chicago, IL.

The roar of the crowd could be heard through the thick concrete walls. The absolute freezing wind was somehow flowing freely into the mid-sized converted board room.

"So why are we meeting in the bowels of a stadium. We have a budget for things like this. Its freezing in here." Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his wool coat, the agent leaned against a concrete wall.

"Have you not read the carefully prepared memo on what they call 'hiding in plain sight'?" The other agent, leaning in a leather chair, with his feet strategically propped up on an oak table.

"Hiding in plain sight. Its freezing in here, and obviously we're not in plain sight. We're like a hundred feet underground from plain sight. Plain sight is up there, in the snow, with the fans and the ski jumpers. Crazy bastards..."

"The theory is the same here. You have secret things where people won't take suspicion. Seeing a meeting in a meeting room, doesn't raise suspicion." Agent two says as he motions an arm as if to include the room to exentuate his point.

"You're crazy...this isn't a meeting room. This is storage room, with a table in it. A storage room with a table in it, cries secret basement meeting to me. Especially considering, we're in a basement." Agent ones pulls up his collar around his red ears, then stuffs his hands back into their warm pockets.

"Shut up and guard the door." Agent two decides the point is not worth arguing about, this place was as bad as any.

"I'm here guarding door while you're sitting there with your feet up. How many agents are meeting here today?"

"Including us, seven. Four probie's. I can't wait to see what they dug up this time, probably four 18 year old highschool dropouts. Ha ha heh-" His laughter is quieted as his own entrance to the agency flows into his head...a highschool dropout, not a day over 18.

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Polished leather heels and a solid brass cane tip touched down upon the cold concrete sidewalk. Legs followed suit, clad in fine silk trousers the color of charcoal. A night black shirt seemed to swallow the torso of the man inside a charcoal jacket. A long golden scarf, protection from the frost, became a striking dash of color and partially hid the tanned mediterranean features of it's wearer. The rest was equally obscured by dark glasses and one half of the face hid in the deep shadow cast by a rich side tilted trilby hat.

The Ophidian stepped from the back seat of the limosine and surveyed the unlikely venue, as his assistant drapped his body in a large fur-lined overcoat, it's waterproof exterior made of lividly patterned snakehide. The cane grasped loosely in his gloved left hand was of a dark-stained mahogany and bore an unwinged cadeucus of solid brass as the pommel.

The figure cut an imposing silouhette. Not becasue of his physical stature, which was merely average. Rather one might say there was more contrast to him, more definition. As if the shapes and shadows that defined his form were cast in bold relief from his surroundings. He moved with a deliberate patience that possesed nonetheless, an uncanny fluidity. Space itself seemed to move aside from the cutting aura of his presence.

"Malcolm. Remain here with the car until I return. I don't exsspect this should take long..." the mysterious figure crooned to his lieutenant. The voice was preternaturaly smooth and seemd to slither silkenly into one's senses.

The Ophidian made his way into the catacombs below with an easy stride. It was not the first time he had ventured underground...

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Adam Trooper stepped out of the cab, paid the cabbie, and started walking. He caught a breeze and shivered a bit in the chill air. He almost wondered again if he should have brought the trench coat, but dismissed the argument as having been settled. His heavy sweater's chief advantage was it hid the pair of sheaths hidden on his back. The trench coat's pockets would do for the handgun, but it slowed down drawing the sword and he just wasn't sure what to make of this meeting.

His clothes almost spoke of wealth but not quite. Adam was handsome, walked with a graceful charm and was obviously popular with the ladies*. He had big hands, an unplaceable accent... and every now there was the flash of age in his eyes.

(* Think Adrian Paul)

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The yellowed light of the street lamp dances over the pale skin of a slender hand. "This is fine, driver." A twinge of Russia brushes the smokey tenor in her accent as the words fall quietly in the frosty cab.

Rosy lips twitch as though amused as she exits the gleaming cab in a swirl of black fur. Ebony locks curl around the thin, delicate features that denounce the strength behind the cleft chin of the well-dressed woman. Except for the exceptional quality of the floor length fur coat with a slash of white around the hood, her dress is modern if a bit conventional. The black dress flows gently about her curved figure but neither accentuates her figure nor detracts.

Frosty blue eyes glance once more into the cab, before she waves the driver away. Her young face glows with amusement as a fleeting image of his wife passes through his mind to hers before the darkness slowly slides over her and she begins her journey through the dark streets. She smiles slightly at the lingering glance from the balding forty-something man as the taxicab pulls away slowly before turning and disappearing from sight.

Negligent to the temperatures, she eyes the darkened shadows of the street before heading down toward her meeting. Her body flows as though lit from a fire within.

-----

The light taps of high heels echo off the dank walls of the hall. Tapping on the door of J9, Nadya Pajari Cinaed's dark head pokes around the corner, eyeing the room before she steps in. "Am I expected?"

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"As expected as I am I would assume."

Marcus Haze was a ways behind Nadya, but still close enough to hear when she asked her question. He had arrived in Chicago earlier that day but simply walked to the site of the meeting. As he was approaching the area, he saw Nadya up ahead and quickly guessed they were heading to the same place as they drew closer, but of course didnt say anything he heard her question.

After he closed the distance a little more, he would give Nadya a small smile and nod. Marcus was somewhat tall at 6'4'', but otherwise had a fairly 'average' build and appearance, green eyes and neatly cut light brown hair. Currently he appeared to be wearing almost all black. Black boots, pants, longsleeved shirt and gloves. The exception was the brown trenchcoat he wore over everything else. In any case, he would then turn his attention to the agent by the door, waiting for him to admit them before heading into the room.

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The light taps of high heels echo off the dank walls of the hall. Tapping on the door of J9, Nadya Pajari Cinaed's dark head pokes around the corner, eyeing the room before she steps in. "Am I expected?"

The door opens and the agent sitting, feet propped up on the desk, falls out his chair completely surprised. "Ooof. Uh, ummm. My appologies for the uh...and..." His voice trails off as he takes in the stunning woman who stepped through the door. Embarrassed, he stands up and wipes at the dirt now caked to his black pants.

"May I take your coat ma'am?" Agent two states coming around the door, totally unimpressed, motioning for the newcomer to move into the room away from the door.

Almost on que, another body takes up the doorway. The agent wiping down his pants stops and stands tall and firm at full attention. As the newcomer enters the room, he moves forward now apparently in control of himself. "Sir, may I assist you with your coat?"

The new man, clad in black stares at his brown trench coat, as if deciding whether or not to surrender it.

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"As expected as I am I would assume."

After he closed the distance a little more, he would give Nadya a small smile and nod. Marcus was somewhat tall at 6'4'', but otherwise had a fairly 'average' build and appearance, green eyes and neatly cut light brown hair. Currently he appeared to be wearing almost all black. Black boots, pants, longsleeved shirt and gloves. The exception was the brown trenchcoat he wore over everything else. In any case, he would then turn his attention to the agent by the door, waiting for him to admit them before heading into the room.

Turning at the sound of someone behind her, Nadya shows no surprise, just a understanding nod. Looking up at Marcus from nearly a foot down, she smiles politely, before preceding him into the room.

The door opens and the agent sitting, feet propped up on the desk, falls out his chair completely surprised. "Ooof. Uh, ummm. My appologies for the uh...and..." His voice trails off as he takes in the stunning woman who stepped through the door. Embarrassed, he stands up and wipes at the dirt now caked to his black pants.

Nadya bites the insides of her cheeks to keep from laughing at the hapless chap. Walking forward into the room, she turns to keep the door in sight but faces the men around her.

"May I take your coat ma'am?" Agent two states coming around the door, totally unimpressed, motioning for the newcomer to move into the room away from the door.

"Spasibo, I am fine. The air nips a bit here. I am Nadya Cinaed, and you would be...?"

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Almost on que, another body takes up the doorway. The agent wiping down his pants stops and stands tall and firm at full attention. As the newcomer enters the room, he moves forward now apparently in control of himself. "Sir, may I assist you with your coat?"

Marcus brings a hand up, still smiling slightly, but shaking his head to the question. "No thank you. As they lady said, it seems cool enough in here to keep it." He would then head over to the table but does not sit himself yet, simply listening as the others talk for now.

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With two newcomers already inside, the doorway is filled yet again. This time, two people enter at once. The first is a man in his late 30's, round glasses, the faintest hint of gray hair among the brown. A cream colored overcoat that hangs on a well pressed and rather expensive - from the looks - brown suit. He enters with a swagger that could mean either endless wealth, or executive power...or both.

"I see that two of our new recruits have arrived. Though I am a bit early myself." He speaks to the room, not anyone in it in particular.

The man who immediately follows and stands behind him and to the right, is dressed in a set of overalls with black leather boots adorned with heavy buckles. His shirt and tie under the overalls could easily have not been cleaned in several days, they have the stains to prove it. His outfit though is not all that remarkable. What is remarkable is that he wears a metal helmet that is crafted simply and to the point. ((Essentially Iron Man mask))

This time addressing the newcomers possibly he states "Good morning, my name is Mr. Algreto. I am the agent in charge here. When the rest of our invitees make themselves known, I will convene this meeting and we can begin. Though by all means, mingle amongst yourselves until that time."

Turning to the man in the mask he whispers something. Immediately following the strange man moves from the room.

"I apologize for the accommodations, I assure you that this location is but a few that are sub par. We do have a measure of resources at our disposal." His last sentence is spoken as he wipes a gloved finger across the top the table and rubs the dust between another finger. He looks mildly unhappy.

The two original agents move to stand at either side of the door after a brief salute to their obvious superior. They stand at attention...a pair of the best soldiers you'd ever care to stare at.

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Adam enters just in time to hear the man speak. He pauses on the threshold and evaluates the situation. To buy time he says,

"Greetings all." Then he clearly evaluates everyone individually, especially Nadya to whom he raises one eyebrow in greeting.

He almost as an after thought, "I'm Adam Trooper and I gather I'm expected."

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Concealed within the shadows, The Ophidian watched each of the new arrivals with interest. It was in the Serpent's nature to be cautious, and so he waited, patiently and in utter stillness.

,,

First, the woman. Beautiful, poised, and not bothering to conceal her Russian accent.

,,

Then the tall man. Meticulous, confident and he smiled alot.

,,

Then Two more men, one bearing the unmistakable aura of leadership, the other masked, dirty and unkempt. The second entered behind the first but then quickly departed from the room, saying nothing. The Ophidian watched him exit with curious trepidation, sinking defensively deeper into his concealment. Just what sort of people had been watching him??

,,

Finally, a dark haired man. Casually dressed but intentionally so. As he walked into the lit room, the fabric of his heavy sweater moved in an odd fashion. The Ophidian looked closer, attempting to see what was amiss. Ah! A slight bulge in the fabric, concealing an object on his back..a weapon perhaps?

,,

Satisfied that the masked person had gone and that no one else seemed to be arriving, Hadrian Blakemore dislodged himself from the inky darkness and moved forward into the light.

,,

Standing in the doorway, his keen senses attuned for any signs of ambush, The Ophidian scanned the room slowly. His presence was foreboding, almost sinister. His face nearly concealed beneath cloak, scarf, dark glasses and his tilted hat, it nonetheless sent chills up the spine as he gazed upon each occupant in turn.

,,

A voice, like liquid filled the room. It's tone was soft, disarmingly sensual and though he stood at some distance from the other's it felt as if he was speaking right next to one's ear. The effect was preturnatural...somehow more than human.

,,

"Whyyy have you been following me?" asked the newcomer to his host, the swaggered man who seemed to be in charge here.

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Standing in the doorway, his keen senses attuned for any signs of ambush, The Ophidian scanned the room slowly. His presence was foreboding, almost sinister. His face nearly concealed beneath cloak, scarf, dark glasses and his tilted hat, it nonetheless sent chills up the spine as he gazed upon each occupant in turn.,,

A voice, like liquid filled the room. It's tone was soft, disarmingly sensual and though he stood at some distance from the other's it felt as if he was speaking right next to one's ear. The effect was preturnatural...somehow more than human.

,,

"Whyyy have you been following me?" asked the newcomer to his host, the swaggered man who seemed to be in charge here.

Adam went still. On some level he'd assumed he'd already encountered the upper limit for how scary and impressive a guy could get. He was wrong. ::blink This... man(?) set a new standard. ::ohmy His presense filled the room. Adam's palm itched but he kept it away from his weapons. Instead he reached down and lightly gripped the rim of a chair.

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Adam enters just in time to hear the man speak. He pauses on the threshold and evaluates the situation. To buy time he says,

"Greetings all." Then he clearly evaluates everyone individually, especially Nadya to whom he raises one eyebrow in greeting.

He almost as an after thought, "I'm Adam Trooper and I gather I'm expected."

Algreto turns to you and after a brief pause regards you with a smile."Good morning Mr. Troop-" His sentence is interrupted as the Ophidian enters.

"Whyyy have you been following me?" asked the newcomer to his host, the swaggered man who seemed to be in charge here.

Mouth agape somewhat, Algreto his best to regain his composure and hide further embarrasment. "Mr. Blakemore I presume. Wel-, welcome. Please everyone come and sit here" he motions wide to the large table and chairs. "As soon as my assistant returns we can begin. Please feel free to introduce yourselves. Agents Dagget and Jeffries, please secure this room."

Moments later, with some severe huffing to be heard beneath the imposing metal mask, the man returns with a leather satchel and hands it to Mr. Algretto.

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Mouth agape somewhat, Algreto his best to regain his composure and hide further embarrasment. "Mr. Blakemore I presume. Wel-, welcome. Please everyone come and sit here" he motions wide to the large table and chairs. "As soon as my assistant returns we can begin. Please feel free to introduce yourselves. Agents Dagget and Jeffries, please secure this room."

Moments later, with some severe huffing to be heard beneath the imposing metal mask, the man returns with a leather satchel and hands it to Mr. Algretto.

The Ophidian doesn't move, and it is uncanny how still he actually is.

"You didn't answer my quesstion, Misster Algreto..." he says ominously.

"An explanation had best be swift in forthcoming. I do not take kindly to governments...invading my privasssy..."

As he says this, something moves under the golden silk of his scarf. It is a very small movement, but made striking in cotrast with his otherwise stasis-like composure.

He gives no indication of accepting the offer to sit.

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The Ophidian doesn't move, and it is uncanny how still he actually is.

"You didn't answer my quesstion, Misster Algreto..." he says ominously.

"An explanation had best be swift in forthcoming. I do not take kindly to governments...invading my privasssy..."

As he says this, something moves under the golden silk of his scarf. It is a very small movement, but made striking in cotrast with his otherwise stasis-like composure.

He gives no indication of accepting the offer to sit.

The two stare at each other for several seconds, before Algreto turns his attention to the leather satchel sifting through what appear to be documents.

"Mr. Blakemore, you have been targeted as an Ideal candidate to assist us in our research. Your background in less than common artifacts could give us incredible assistance. That is of course unless you no longer have these...inklings." Apparently finding the file he was looking for he extends it in the Ophidian's direction, only to retract it an instant later.

"Ah where is my mind...I do trust you all have been, Invited here? Invitations please?" His wide toothy grin seems to shake free the over hang of uncomfortable air.

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"Ah where is my mind...I do trust you all have been, Invited here? Invitations please?" His wide toothy grin seems to shake free the over hang of uncomfortable air.
Without taking his eyes off the "impressive" newcomer, Adam reaches under his sweater into his back pocket and pulls out a letter which has been folded into quarters. He tosses it on the table next to their "host".

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The Ophidian doesn't flinch at Algreto's faux offering. When asked for his invitation, he reaches into his inner coat with a gloved hand and withdraws the crsiply folded letter addressed to him and holds it up for the man to see.

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Odo's heavy footsteps echo through the hallway as he hurries towards the room, a crumpled piece of paper in one hand. He stops in the door and looks inside for a moment before stepping in. His eyes quickly take in the room as he holds out the piece of paper.

"Here...is my invitation. I am Odo."

Now he takes his time to look at everyone in the room, pausing to stare at the Ophidian for a moment. He quickly takes a chair, his cheap suit jacket stretching around his large frame as he sits.

What am I doing here?

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Mr. Algreto stares at the giant man entering the room for a moment, though his face betrays no hints of surprise nor fear. He then takes a moment to glance at everyones invitation. He takes Mr. Troopers form his hand and stares at it for a moment as if studying it. Then smiling he hands it back. "Thank you sir."

"Now that we have that out of the way perhaps you would all care to sit and allow me to explain how together...we're going to change the world."

Algreto begins sifting through a folder as he circles the table of gathered strangers as the two agents secure the room and stand near the closed door.

"President Coolidge has decided early on in his presidency that we have to research and understand the strange and unusual. To this end, he has created us. The Pandora Garbage company. We are charged with discovery the odd and unsual things that happen within our borders and beyond."

He pauses a second as if something in his folder catches his eye. Then he stops and looks up to the gathered mass. "You all are unusual in your own right. Among you is a history of Occult lore and aquisiiton, a collection of academic minds which have seen things that are far too horrible to describe, and the few who would still consider themselves true warriors. You have been invited to this meeting at this time, because you have all been researched and we feel you have something offer us. Those of you who decide to join will be payed a rather generous salary, be exposed to things that others have only heard about in scary stories, and have the opportunity to really make a difference."

Algreto tucks the folder under his right arm, and takes out a handful of cigars...stuffing one into his mouth and lights it up with a wooden match. As he waves the match out he adds.

"Well...what do you say?"

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Marcus quickly turns his attention to Mr. Algreto when he enters, though for the time being simply nods to his greeting andthe apology for the accomodations.

Then when Adam arrives, Marcus would watch the exchange between him and Mr.Algreto with a slight bit of curiousity, that is until the Ophidian enters the scene. When he does, Marcus would turn his attention to him, and then for several moments he would simply stare, almost looking as though he was lost in a trance before he finally pulls his gaze away, lowering it and bringing a hand up to rub his forhead, and he lightly clears his throat.

"President Coolidge has decided early on in his presidency that we have to research and understand the strange and unusual. To this end, he has created us. The Pandora Garbage company. We are charged with discovery the odd and unsual things that happen within our borders and beyond."

He pauses a second as if something in his folder catches his eye. Then he stops and looks up to the gathered mass. "You all are unusual in your own right. Among you is a history of Occult lore and aquisiiton, a collection of academic minds which have seen things that are far too horrible to describe, and the few who would still consider themselves true warriors. You have been invited to this meeting at this time, because you have all been researched and we feel you have something offer us. Those of you who decide to join will be payed a rather generous salary, be exposed to things that others have only heard about in scary stories, and have the opportunity to really make a difference."

"Well...what do you say?"

Marcus would, if she hadnt already seated herself yet, move to pull a chair out for Nadya before seating himself and listening intently as Mr. Algreto begins his explanation. Still, Marcus doesnt seem quite satisfied when he finishes, folding his arms before speaking up. "Well, Im not sure about anyone else, but I think I could use a little more information sir. What sort of 'odd and unusual' things will we be investigating?"

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The Ophidian remains motionless, a hovering wraith still near the doorway and the two soldiers unfortunate to be so close to him notice that the slow writhing movement continues under his clothing.

"I agree. Whyy should we trusst you. Howw do we know that you are, who you say that you are? You have obvioussly been spying on us for some time, which puts you at a consssiderable advantage..."

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Algreto tucks the folder under his right arm, and takes out a handful of cigars...stuffing one into his mouth and lights it up with a wooden match. As he waves the match out he adds.

"Well...what do you say?"

Odo leans forward, clasping his hands on the table as Algreto speaks. He listens as Marcus speaks, nodding slightly. His eyes do flick to the Ophidian and stay there as the dark man speaks. After a beat, Odo speaks up, his voice deep.

"I'm in. I work for the government anyway and this sounds more...interesting. I was referred here by a Washington man, so I believe you are who you say you are."

Odo pauses, staring at the man, Which doesn't at all mean I'm not worried about a hidden agenda

"You certainly owe us more information."

His eyes remain on Algreto for a moment longer before he leans back in his chair, folding his massive arms and looking down at the table.

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Adam says,

"Things that are far too horrible to describe? ::ohmy The company alone makes this sound worthwhile. I think I'm in."

"And yes, I too am interested in how you found out about all of us."

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"Well, Im not sure about anyone else, but I think I could use a little more information sir. What sort of 'odd and unusual' things will we be investigating?"

"I agree. Whyy should we trusst you. Howw do we know that you are, who you say that you are? You have obvioussly been spying on us for some time, which put you at a consssiderable advantage..."

"You certainly owe us more information."

His eyes remain on Algreto for a moment longer before he leans back in his chair, folding his massive arms and looking down at the table.

Algreto's poise and composure remains intact. He paces slowly, the length of the boardroom table, blankly staring at the information in his hand. "The answers to all of your questions I could whip up in due time, but I suppose that you all want something spectacular." He pauses briefly before tossing a manilla folder onto the dark wood table, spilling its contents of various photo's and written reports across the highly lacquered surface.

Upon quick inspection, the photographs and corresponding police reports look to be of a brutal and savage murder. The body's sex is unknown at first glance, though looking for a few seconds shows it to be female. Age is not known. The mess is unbelievable and the black and white photo's give it that chilling quality.

"The first series there, was taken in winter of 1922 in New York, the second last July in Florida. These last few were taken a few days ago in Georgia. The little we do know is that this young woman was brutally murdered in a fashion that would put it in animal mauling territory. Trouble is, we found her about 100 yards off the ground...in a tree."

His somber mood is accented by the slow drags he takes on his stogie.

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Algreto's poise and composure remains intact. He paces slowly, the length of the boardroom table, blankly staring at the information in his hand. "The answers to all of your questions I could whip up in due time, but I suppose that you all want something spectacular." He pauses briefly before tossing a manilla folder onto the dark wood table, spilling its contents of various photo's and written reports across the highly lacquered surface.

Upon quick inspection, the photographs and corresponding police reports look to be of a brutal and savage murder. The body's sex is unknown at first glance, though looking for a few seconds shows it to be female. Age is not known. The mess is unbelievable and the black and white photo's give it that chilling quality.

"The first series there, was taken in winter of 1922 in New York, the second last July in Florida. These last few were taken a few days ago in Georgia. The little we do know is that this young woman was brutally murdered in a fashion that would put it in animal mauling territory. Trouble is, we found her about 100 yards off the ground...in a tree."

His somber mood is accented by the slow drags he takes on his stogie.

Odo leans forward, examining the pictures. The expression on his face is not one of revulsion or disgust, but rather interest and curiosity. When he speaks it is half to himself, but his deep baritone travels to all ears in the room.

"Well, this counts as both odd and unusual. I've seen a pride of lions leave a body in better condition."

He looks up, leaning on the table with his forearms, sweeping the other faces in the room for their reactions. Moving his attention back to the folder, he shifts the photos around, pulling out a few medical reports and going over them idly as he speaks.

"So. Georgia. How do we get there and when do we leave? And when do you start sharing those cigars?"

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Adam examines the photos with interest and comments,

"Some of the big cats will pull their prey up a tree, although 100 yards is a bit much. Different locations implies human involvement. So... someone using cats as a weapon? Or someone being really animalistic?"

Adam pauses for thought for a moment, then shrugs,

"I've gone big game hunting before. Wouldn't mind doing it again."

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"So. Georgia. How do we get there and when do we leave? And when do you start sharing those cigars?"

Algreto moves towards Odo and fetches a cigar case.

Adam pauses for thought for a moment, then shrugs,"I've gone big game hunting before. Wouldn't mind doing it again."

Lifting his eyebrows in response to Alex he must smiles wide, his teeth surrounding the cigar in his mouth as he absently hands a cigar and matches to the large Odo. He focuses his attention to the others in the room waiting to hear their thoughts.

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Algreto moves towards Odo and fetches a cigar case.

Lifting his eyebrows in response to Alex he must smiles wide, his teeth surrounding the cigar in his mouth as he absently hands a cigar and matches to the large Odo. He focuses his attention to the others in the room waiting to hear their thoughts.

Odo takes the cigar, biting off the end and clinching it in his large white teeth. He strikes the match, letting the flame burn brightly in the still air of the basement room for a moment. Lighting the cigar, he takes a few puffs and looks around the room as smoke billows around his head.

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Marcus would look over the pictures quietly for a while, and then sits back and fold his arms to think. He still wasn't 100% sure about this, but on the other hand he doubted the IDA would have sent him here if they didnt feel it was important. Not to mention he figured he could always go back to them. And it sounds like this position could turn out to be quite interesting. So finally he would nod.

"Alright, Im in. I may have never gone big game hunting before, but I believe I can assist, in my own way."

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The Ophidian had waited until the folio had been passed to him, and stared at each photgraph in turn for a long moment before proceeding to the next.

,,

Finaly he speaks.

,,

"Ssso. You want us to track down your murderer for you is it? And you believe it to be some sort of ssupernatural beastie. Otherwise there would be no need for my area of expertise."

,,

"What compensation do you offer for our unique talentss?"

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"Alright, Im in. I may have never gone big game hunting before, but I believe I can assist, in my own way."

His smile widening, the agent in charge begins to walk with a spot of swagger towards the door, his back to the group...then the Ophidian speaks and he straightens a bit, as if something slimy crawled down the back of his suit.
"Ssso. You want us to track down your murderer for you is it? And you believe it to be some sort of ssupernatural beastie. Otherwise there would be no need for my area of expertise."

"What compensation do you offer for our unique talentss?"

Without turning to face them all he responds. "Mr. Blakemore, Supernatural isn't a word that we toss around in this day and age. What ever caused this unpleasant and most grievous attack was most likely not the works of anything more than some crazy. I have put together this group, for your skills in medicine, deduction and reason. "

He turns then, to face the group. His hands in his pockets, his mouth puffing away at his cigar in between sentences. "Look around you, people. This country is doing ok on the surface, but we are struggling. There are not jobs for everyone everywhere. Your own government offers you a job, and you want to know what you're getting paid?" His facial expression, though does not ally with his sentiments. "There is something for everyone here." He reaches into his leather satchel that the masked man brought him removing another photograph. Walking casually to the table he tosses it down and as intended, as if he'd practiced the trick his entire life for this one moment, the photo slides and spins to sit perfectly in front of the Ophidian; even in the moderately poor lighted photograph, he'd recognize the spear of Longinus. "We have things that interest all types of people mr. Blakemore."

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He turns then, to face the group. His hands in his pockets, his mouth puffing away at his cigar in between sentences. "Look around you, people. This country is doing ok on the surface, but we are struggling. There are not jobs for everyone everywhere. Your own government offers you a job, and you want to know what you're getting paid?" His facial expression, though does not ally with his sentiments. "There is something for everyone here." He reaches into his leather satchel that the masked man brought him removing another photograph. Walking casually to the table he tosses it down and as intended, as if he'd practiced the trick his entire life for this one moment, the photo slides and spins to sit perfectly in front of the Ophidian; even in the moderately poor lighted photograph, he'd recognize the spear of Longinus. "We have things that interest all types of people mr. Blakemore."

Odo leans forward to glance at the picture, still puffing on the cigar. He nods and leans back again, turning his attention back to Algreto.

"Okay, so you're serious about this, we can see that. But we don't need to be sitting around watching you pull any more impressive pictures out of your bag. The longer we tarry, the colder the trail becomes."

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His smile widening, the agent in charge begins to walk with a spot of swagger towards the door, his back to the group...then the Ophidian speaks and he straightens a bit, as if something slimy crawled down the back of his suit.

Without turning to face them all he responds. "Mr. Blakemore, Supernatural isn't a word that we toss around in this day and age. What ever caused this unpleasant and most grievous attack was most likely not the works of anything more than some crazy. I have put together this group, for your skills in medicine, deduction and reason. "

"Really now, Misster Algreto," The Ophidian hissed. "I would have expected a man with such...priveleged information to show a bit more faith..."

The cloaked man slowly and meticulously removes first his hat, then his dark glasses, folding them neatly and placing them in a breast pocket. His shaven head glistens slightly in the cold, harsh flourescent lighting. But it is his face, now revealed for all to see that brings his words to chilling effect.

One eye is dark, human in color and countenance, but the other looks upon the room through a vertical slit slashing through a golden reptillian orb. The skin around the eye is covered in black scales that spread down part of his cheek and up above the eyebrow as if they were slowly spreading. His gaze is both terrifying and beautiful to behold, transfixing all who look upon him with it's hypnotic power.

Turning to face Algreto he finishes, and his words carry am ominous weight.

"This day and age is but a drop in the bucket of antiquity. There are Ancient Powers in this universe and beyond. Powers that are far more terrible...and real than has been dreamt of in your philosophy..."

{Steely Gaze}

He turns then, to face the group. His hands in his pockets, his mouth puffing away at his cigar in between sentences. "Look around you, people. This country is doing ok on the surface, but we are struggling. There are not jobs for everyone everywhere. Your own government offers you a job, and you want to know what you're getting paid?" His facial expression, though does not ally with his sentiments. "There is something for everyone here." He reaches into his leather satchel that the masked man brought him removing another photograph. Walking casually to the table he tosses it down and as intended, as if he'd practiced the trick his entire life for this one moment, the photo slides and spins to sit perfectly in front of the Ophidian; even in the moderately poor lighted photograph, he'd recognize the spear of Longinus. "We have things that interest all types of people mr. Blakemore."

The two snakes that had been wrapped like a garland under his scarf are now finally visible as well...A black Tiger snake and the fierce inland Taipan, two of the most venomous serpents known to man.

Looking down at the picture before him, The Ophidian's vertical pupil widens a hair.

"You have my attensssion, Mr. Algreto."

"Proceed..."

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The Ophidian ... speaks. "Ssso. You want us to track down your murderer for you is it? And you believe it to be some sort of ssupernatural beastie. Otherwise there would be no need for my area of expertise."
Adam thinks, *Well now... *
His smile widening, the agent in charge begins to walk with a spot of swagger towards the door, his back to the group...then the Ophidian speaks and he straightens a bit, as if something slimy crawled down the back of his suit.

Without turning to face them all he responds. "Mr. Blakemore, Supernatural isn't a word that we toss around in this day and age. What ever caused this unpleasant and most grievous attack was most likely not the works of anything more than some crazy. I have put together this group, for your skills in medicine, deduction and reason. "

Adam thinks, *Wasn't he talking about things to horrible to see a few moments ago? Does he not consider them supernatural or does he just not want to call them that?* ::confused
"There is something for everyone here." He reaches into his leather satchel that the masked man brought him removing another photograph. Walking casually to the table he tosses it down and as intended, as if he'd practiced the trick his entire life for this one moment, the photo slides and spins to sit perfectly in front of the Ophidian; even in the moderately poor lighted photograph, he'd recognize the spear of Longinus. "We have things that interest all types of people mr. Blakemore."
Adam thinks, *Oh my. I wonder if he has Excaliber hidden away somewhere?* ::ohmy
One eye is dark, human in color and countenance, but the other looks upon the room through a vertical slit slashing through a golden reptillian orb. The skin around the eye is covered in black scales that spread down part of his cheek and up above the eyebrow as if they were slowly spreading. His gaze is both terrifying and beautiful to behold, transfixing all who look upon him with it's hypnotic power. "This day and age is but a drop in the bucket of antiquity. There are Ancient Powers in this universe and beyond. Powers that are far more terrible...and real than has been dreamt of in your philosophy..."
*Good God. No, nothing to do with god I think.* ::cursing ::devil
The two snakes that had been wrapped like a garland under his scarf are now finally visible as well...A black Tiger snake and the fierce inland Taipan, two of the most venomous serpents known to man.
Adam raises one eyebrow but is much more impressed by the man than by his pets.

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"This day and age is but a drop in the bucket of antiquity. There are Ancient Powers in this universe and beyond. Powers that are far more terrible...and real than has been dreamt of in your philosophy..."

The two snakes that had been wrapped like a garland under his scarf are now finally visible as well...A black Tiger snake and the fierce inland Taipan, two of the most venomous serpents known to man.

Looking down at the picture before him, The Ophidian's vertical pupil widens a hair.

"You have my attensssion, Mr. Algreto."

"Proceed..."

Odo watches the Ophidian, transfixed. He slowly reaches up and takes the cigar out of his mouth, the end wet and chewed. Setting it down on the table, his eyes remain riveted on the Ophidian as the two snakes are revealed.

"I think it is you who now have our attention, sir."

He is able to move his eyes away for a moment to find his cigar again, which resumes its place clenched between his teeth. While no longer quite as transfixed, Odo is certainly keeping an eye on the scaled man.

"I think we may need to get used to using the word supernatural, Mr. Algreto. Our serpentine friend has quite convinced me of the word's appropriateness. While I whole heartedly agree that the perpetrator of these crimes is likely crazy, I believe there are other forces at work. Insanity may compel you to put a mangled corpse in a tree, but it takes something else entirely to lift it the 100 yards."

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"I think we may need to get used to using the word supernatural, Mr. Algreto. Our serpentine friend has quite convinced me of the word's appropriateness. While I whole heartedly agree that the perpetrator of these crimes is likely crazy, I believe there are other forces at work. Insanity may compel you to put a mangled corpse in a tree, but it takes something else entirely to lift it the 100 yards."
Adam holds out his hand and makes a "iffy" motion with it, then he says,

"Maybe. Maybe not. The Real Supernatural is extremely rare. You could look a hundred years and not find it once. On the other hand, mad men and people making stuff up for reasons of personal interest is common. A gifted mad man could pull this off, so that is the way to bet."

Adam shrugs,

"But the world has gotten smaller recently. So maybe."

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Adam holds out his hand and makes a "iffy" motion with it, then he says,

"Maybe. Maybe not. The Real Supernatural is extremely rare. You could look a hundred years and not find it once. On the other hand, mad men and people making stuff up for reasons of personal interest is common. A gifted mad man could pull this off, so that is the way to bet."

Adam shrugs,

"But the world has gotten smaller recently. So maybe."

Odo nods as Alex speaks, puffing away on his cigar. He thinks for a moment before making his reply,

"We are in agreement there. Most go through their whole lives without encountering the supernatural, and even if they do, they likely have no idea. This could be nothing more than a passionate murder put on high altitude display. But I think it best that we ready ourselves as though this is something quite out of the ordinary. Better to be overly prepared than the other way around, I think you'll agree."

He nods at Alex as he speaks, but seems to be addressing the whole room. His eyes still flick back to the Ophidian from time to time, unable to deny his...attention-grabbing presence.

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"I think it is you who now have our attention, sir."

"I think we may need to get used to using the word supernatural, Mr. Algreto. Our serpentine friend has quite convinced me of the word's appropriateness. While I whole heartedly agree that the perpetrator of these crimes is likely crazy, I believe there are other forces at work. Insanity may compel you to put a mangled corpse in a tree, but it takes something else entirely to lift it the 100 yards."

Adam holds out his hand and makes a "iffy" motion with it, then he says,

"Maybe. Maybe not. The Real Supernatural is extremely rare. You could look a hundred years and not find it once. On the other hand, mad men and people making stuff up for reasons of personal interest is common. A gifted mad man could pull this off, so that is the way to bet."

"But the world has gotten smaller recently. So maybe."

Listening to both men with equal interest, while still glancing at the venomous monsters attached to the Ophian, Algreto quickly summons his toothy grin. His pacing begins again as his hands move up to casually smooth his white slicked hair back.

"I must agree with you a bit Mr. Trooper. The world is most definately getting smaller. If this was the work of a mad man, a clever mad man, or the devil himself, I want to know which. This is why I have put this group together. From the information at our disposal and the candidates at hand you were all my choices. If you agree to be a part of this, we can move on and get to the exiting work that does not exist in this cold basement.'

He takes a series of documents from his brown satchel and walks around the room placing one in front of each of them. "Please glance at these contracts. These detail your offer to be official contractors for the United States Government. Your premium rates, medical services, transportation, the works. Please take your time to glance at those. As soon as you sign them, you can board the aircraft we have waiting not far form here. It will take you to Georgia to investigate this situation. The remainder of the details we can debrief on the car ride to the air strip, and on the ride to Georgia.'

He pauses to discard his partially smoked cigar on the floor and smashes it out with his shiny black leather boots.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have the chance of a life time here. The Pandora garbage company needs your assistance.'

((The contract is well laid out and pretty straight forward.))

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Adam holds out his hand and makes a "iffy" motion with it, then he says,

"Maybe. Maybe not. The Real Supernatural is extremely rare. You could look a hundred years and not find it once. On the other hand, mad men and people making stuff up for reasons of personal interest is common. A gifted mad man could pull this off, so that is the way to bet."

Adam shrugs,

"But the world has gotten smaller recently. So maybe."

,,

The Ophidian turns his full gaze upon Adam Trooper, seeming to bore a hole through his Soul.

,,

"Not rare, Misster Trooper. Merely beyond your noticsse."

,,

"The plots and plans of the Great Old Ones are too vast for the mortal eye to comprehend. What is one hundred years to an entity who has existed since before time? Like the mighty boughs of Yggdrasil, or the curvature and motion of the Earth, they cannot be discerned from the perspective of this Plane. And like the Great Tree, they grow and spread with infinite patience, too slowly for one to percieve...until it is too late."

,,

"I must agree with you a bit Mr. Trooper. The world is most definately getting smaller. If this was the work of a mad man, a clever mad man, or the devil himself, I want to know which. This is why I have put this group together. From the information at our disposal and the candidates at hand you were all my choices. If you agree to be a part of this, we can move on and get to the exiting work that does not exist in this cold basement.'
,,

"Pray that it is not the Devil, Mr. Algreto, nor any other Angel..."

,,

The Ophidian pours over the contract thoroughly, noting the provisions for research and access to restricted items. He also makes note of their security clearance. Satisfied that the terms are advantageous, he signs his name, Hadrian Blakemore.

,,

,,

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