| Logs |
2002 February 13
| Cosmic Guardians |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Guardians Logs |
The First Mission, Prologue
Cosmic Guardians: The Double-Edged SwordPrologue: The E-Mail
Nikki is on the computer when the email comes in. She lives in a quiet neighborhood in Queens, NY, with two roomates. One, an older man named Edgar, and the other, a seemingly young woman named Linda. Only seemingly because, like Nikki, she is also a ghost. Because she has no static physical body, one of the natural baggage with being dead, she could technically look however she chose. Sentimentality, however, drove the young ghost to keep the appearance she had when she died, with moderate changes for style's sake. Her long auburn hair cascades around her neck as she sits and types, and she briefly looks up at a reflection of herself in a mirror across the way, her green eyes blinking as she regards herself. She is about five feet tall and appears to have a toned, though slim, 'body'. Her nose is small and slightly upturned and her lips seem to naturally return to an almost perpetual small smile. Although she doesn't need to sleep, she sometimes chooses to demanifest and meditate, and, upon 'awakening', chooses a new 'outfit' to 'wear'. At present, she 'wears' a pair of light-blue, stone-washed jeans,a pair of white walking shoes over green socks that match her light green t-shirt, and a silver stud in each ear.
Nikki's attention is jerked back from contemplation, however, as her laptop signals the incoming email with an audible tone. She stops typing in the editor she has open, saving it quickly and pulling up her mail reader. "No one ever sends me email but Ares..."
One of the emails is, apparently, from Ares, her closest friend since the day of her death. The other is unrecognizable, but it also comes from the domain 'labyrinth.net', the same as Ares. To be precise, the whole address is "admin@labyrinth.net", and the subject header reads: Urgent - Open immediately. Glancing over her shoulder for a second, as if assuring herself of her privacy, she quickly opens the urgent message.
The message reads: An Incident has developed. You have been selected to meet the threat. You will recieve further instructions within the hour regarding where you must join with the other members of your team. Delete this message immediately upon recieving. Good luck. There is no name attached to the message. Nikki's eyes widen a bit and she quickly deletes the message, moving on to read Ares' email.
Well, chiquita.. the message begins, You finally got your chance, I hear. I only wish it wasn't under the circumstances that they are. But I have confidence that you're up to the challenge. Your team is going to be relying heavily on you for this one. You're going to be picked up in two hours by a man named Reynard. He'll take you to meet the others. Remember all I've taught you, and know that if we never speak again, I'm proud of you, young warrior. Vaya con Dios.
She smiles a little and types a quick answer, Thanks, Ares. I'll try to live (hehe) up to your expectations. I'm sure that this isn't the last you'll hear from me. -Nikki. She puts Gorgon to sleep and calls over her shoulder as she solidifies to pack up Gorgon in his travel case, "Hey Linda, Edgar. I've got to be going soon. Someone's gonna come and pick me up."
Nikki remembers, then, that Edgar would be at work today. But Linda is definitely here, and appears in the hallway with one towel wrapped around her head, and another around the rest of her body. Obviously, because she's a ghost, she doesn't need to bathe, but after thirty-four years of being bound to the earth, with no sign of passing on, more and more she uses her ghostly essence to become solid just so she can experience whhat few pleasures she misses from her life. She blinks at Nikki. "Pick you up? Whatever..." then Linda seems to understand. "You got the call, didn't you."
Nikki nods to Linda, looking a little mixed between nervously excited and grave for the reasons that she must being called for. She walks over to the older ghost and smiles. "I really appreciate your letting me stay with you all this time."
Linda comes over and hugs Nikki while she's solid. "I knew this would happen eventually, girl...you got talents I can't match...plus you can move around..." It seems like she'd cry if she could. "If you decide not to come back....I mean, in between Incidents...come visit once in a while, maybe? You make being stuck here...bearable."
Nikki smiles a bit sadly as she hugs the older ghost tightly. "I promise."
Linda kisses Nikki on the cheek. "You take care, girl...you're the daughter ah never had...maybe you'll finally find that Clark Kent bastard and you'll get to go on...you certainly deserve it..."
Nikki grins at Linda's nickname for Mr. Kent and then asks more seriously, "Do you know what it'd take for you?"
Linda shakes her head. "Naw, hun...but that's not important now...you got urgent business. You're gonna be on a team, for God's sake! Get your ass packing!" she says, making a shooing motion.
The younger girl laughs, pointing at Gorgon's case. "All packed. That's all I got." She absently pats one of the small pockets in the case, reassuring herself that her anchor - an old-style quartz watch, and the object that keeps her soul on Earth - is stowed safely inside.
Linda sighs ruefully. "One of the modern conveniences of being dead. Never have to pack clothes, cause you can make yourself look however you want..."
Nikki nods. "Speaking of which: You should probably change. The person picking me up is named Reynard. Sounds like a guy." She grins.
Linda blinks. "Oh my. Oh, oooh...you're right, gotta change..." She gets this naughty look in her eye as she goes dashing off. One thing Nikki is well aware of: being dead has not slowed down Linda's sex life.
Nikki giggles and shakes her head, moving over to sit on the couch, switching on the TV before going insubstantial again. Sitting and waiting for the as yet mysterious 'Reynard'.
Reynard is actually in his office when the call comes in. He's busy balancing his accounts. Even though he's a well known bounty hunter, he still has to do all the paperwork of having his own business...accounting was never his forte, so the email interrupting his consciousness it actually a relief. "Damnit." He's used to the junkmail, even if he'd payed for a filter. Saving the changes he's done on the bookwork, the hybrid cancels it out, before opening his window box. There are actually two messages, both from addresses he's never seen, but both are also familiar, coming from the 'labyrinth.net' domain. The first one is from admin@labyrinth.net, with the subject header: Urgent -Read Immediately. The other comes from sasha@labyrinth.net, with the subject: Further instructions.
Reynard arches a brow. All right, this is different. Often, emails like this have viruses lurking beneath, and considering the newer ones, can be quite dangerous. But, considering the source... Reynard shrugs. If not out of a budding concern, then the blossoming curiosity; he clicks onto the first one.
The message reads: An Incident has developed. You have been selected to meet the threat. You will recieve further instructions within the hour regarding where you must join with the other members of your team. Delete this message immediately upon recieving. Good luck. There is no name attached to the message. Just to be contrary, Reynard moves to the next message without deleting the first, his spark of curiosity building to a flame.
The second message, like the first, is cut and clear to the point. Reynard, I hope this message finds you in good health. You will need to pick up one of your team before meeting up with the rest of us: She lives in Queens, and is not capable of providing her own transportation to the meeting place. Once you have met up with her, you will take the high-speed rail to the train hub in Newark, and from there to California. You will be met in California by me. This could potentially be a dangerous mission. Bring enough guns for three people: one is army trained, the other is self-trained and competant. Also bring whatever equipment you think you'll need. See you soon. - Sasha.
Reynard marshalls a wry grin. "Delightful." He deletes the emails after printing out a copy of the directions Sasha sent in an attachment, and rises, to collect the necessary materials. Rifling through his gun drawers, he packs four semi-automatic Glocks, a rifle, and shotgun. Can't coun't on us being close to a supply hole where I can get more. As an afterthought, the recentl encounter with Kranston in mind, he tosses in two splat grenades, and a single explosive grenade. And, with that, sets forth purposefully to the back entrance where his van awaits. Tossing the equipment beside th prepacked clothes he keeps in the van, he climbs in himself and sets off, glancing at the printout directing him to the home of one 'Nikki Felder'.
The directions take reynard out of the city and into suburbia. The neighborhood where the adress is located seems to be well kept, the house a creamy white color with a driveway, garage, and a tree out front with a flowerbed. There are no cars parked in the driveway.
Reynard glances down at his directions. A nod, at the mailbox. "Should be here..." Pulling up into the driveway, he quickly checks himself over, making sure he looks okay. He put on one of his 'smooth' ensembles this morning: a tailored trenchcoat that plays across lower calves, an indigo silk shirt, tanned slacks, and study streamlined black boots. All topped off with stylish sunglasses, russet bangs kept trim, and held at bay in back in a respective tail. He grins at his reflection before tilting the visor back up. Taking a few more seconds, he disposes of the candy wrappers and other assorted junk in the front seat, except for the garbage off a rare Baby Ruth. This prized beauty gets stuffed in his glove compartment to be stashed away at home. After pleased with the relatively clean vehicle, he slides out, and jogs up the drive, and adjoining stairs, knocking briskly.
The door is answered by what can only be described as a bombshell blonde. She has long golden hair that trails down her shoulders, and naughty blue eyes. She appears to be wearing a white t-shirt tied at the front to show off her midriff, and a pair of daisy dukes. She semi-poses in the doorway, gazing over Reynard as if she were looking to buy him. "My. They do grow them big in the city." she drawls with a faint southern accent.
Red brows rise from behind Reynard's glasses. A hint of a grin perks at his lips. "You know," he opts, his British accent hinting just as much as the woman's drawl, "Some people hate their jobs. I'm not one of them, 'specially when I get greetings like this."
The blonde smile broadly, reaching out leisurely to draw a finger down Reynard's indigo shirt. "Oh, I'm sure I could make your job a *whole* lot more fun, sugar..."
"I've never been one to go against pulling long hours..." The hunter offers, hand lifting to almost mimic the action, yet letting digits brush over the blonde's wrist.
The sound of a throat clearing can be heard behind Linda. Nikki stands behind her with a smirk and her hands on her hips. Linda sighs in response. "Sadly, I'm not the one you're here to pick up."
Reynard peers over her shoulder. "Oh, pardon me. I was just being overtaken with hospitality." Linda moves aside, so that Reynard can better see Nikki.
Nikki's eyes widen a little. "Uhm...hi. You must be Reynard?"
Reynard offers Nikki a defusing smile. "I can be." It melts into a playful grin. "Yes, Reynard McCarter." Of course, he doesn't step in without being invited, but offers his hand toward the younger woman. Eyes wander over her, more to measure then gawk. "You must be my meet?"
Nikki glances up at Linda as she steps to the door, eyes smiling. She takes the offered hand. "Nikki. Nikki Felder." Linda just watches the interchange...though she's definitely more interested in Reynard than the conversation itself.
Reynard gives a brisk shake. "Nice to meet you. Although I would be delighted to come in, for refreshment and rest, I live close by in the city," This perhaps stated more for Linda on the sidelines then anything conclusive, "And we have a train to catch. The rather cryptic benefactor likely wants us on time."
Nikki nods, looking a bit more serious. "I'll just get my bag and we can go. Where are we headed, anyway?" Reynard shrugs. "The directions simply said California. I imagine there'll be someone waiting for us at the station." Nikki hmms and nods, walking over and picking up her bulky computer bag, tilting a little as she hooks it on her shoulder.
Linda slips back into the house as Nikki goes out to stand with Reynard. "Come drop by sometime, sugar...when you're not so...busy." she drawls, wiggling her fingers at Reynard. He wiggles his brows in turn. "I'm sure I'll have to drop by and pick up Nikki for any other situations, if she has a lack of transportation." Of course, who says he can't be early? Or leave in the morning?
Linda smiles, showing off a row of white teeth. "Look forward to it, Mr. Reynard." Turning slightly serious, she looks at Nikki. "Y' take care of yourself, honey."
Nikki nods to Linda. "I will. I promise."
Linda smiles sadly and, bowing Nikki a kiss, closes the door behind her as Nikki joins Reynard outside. Reynard, ever the gentleman, opens the lady's door for her, stealthily kicking a missed plastic wrapper under the van as it tumbles out, and lets her get settled in.
Nikki smiles at him as he opens the door and hoists the bag off her shoulder, leaning in to set it on the van's floor next to her seat and then climbs in and sits down. "How far is it to the station? I'm not originally from New York."
Shutting the door behind, and hoisting himself into the driver's side, "A good forty five minutes. And then about four to five hours to California." A glance at the bag, before looking over at the young woman. "Wow... you pack clothes lighter then I do."
Nikki grins enigmatically. "Yeah, well...I'm special that way..."
Lupis is fully engrossed in a book he got from a friend on the old Mayan shamans, absently listening to the playback of some music he recorded earlier, when the call comes. His personal computer is on the coffee table in the living room where he sits, and it pings, to let him know he's got mail.
Lupis doesn't look up at first, but finishes the page he's reading. Eventually, he marks his place in the book, sets it on the coffee table, and leans forward to look at the computer screen. There are actually two messages, both from addresses he's never seen, but both are also familiar, coming from the labyrinth.net domain. The first one is from admin@labyrinth.net, with the subject header: Urgent -Read Immediately. The other comes from sasha@labyrinth.net, with the subject: Further instructions.
Lupis hmms, frowning slightly at something he hears in the guitar music blaring loudly from his speakers. He picks up a pen and jots some musical notes down on a pad of paper, then clicks open the first mail message. The message reads: An Incident has developed. You have been selected to meet the threat. You will recieve further instructions within the hour regarding where you must join with the other members of your team. Delete this message immediately upon recieving. Good luck. There is no name attached to the message.
Lupis reads the message twice, mutters, 'Finally,' and hits the delete button. He clicks on the second message, from Sasha. Mr. Rodriguez, it begins, I hear you're been anxious for some action. Well, anxious or not, you've got some heading your way. Meet me at the high-speed rail station in four hours. Make sure to pack clothes for several days, along with whatever other equipment you might need, as we'll likely be leaving as soon as your teammates arrive. Guns and ammo will be provided. See you soon. - Sasha.
Lupis stands up, and stretches.. He moves across the room to the foyer leading into his garage. He grabs his saddle bags, and heads back into his living room, and starts packing the saddle bags with his magical equipment. As if an afterthought, he stops by the coffee table and stuffs the book he was reading into the bags too. He grabs a few extra pairs of socks and underwear, and a couple shirts, and shoves them in too.
Lupis then goes into his music room, and picks out one of his guitars. He selects his cheapest one, and packs it into a guitar case, with some extra picks and strings. He heads back to his living room, puts his coat on, grabs a pair of black sunglasses, and takes his saddle bag into the garage. A few minutes later the garage door opens, and the loud thrumming of a revving road bike tears through the neighbourhood. He rides out onto the street slowly, his guitar case strapped to the back of his Harley's seat behind him. He looks both ways, then turns into traffic, without bothering to signal.
It only takes about an hour for Lupis to get to LA, although the traffic once he gets within range of the city does slow things down a bit. Lupis rides into the city, and circles around for a short while, until he finds a suitably dingy looking diner. He pulls in, and stops for lunch, picking up a newspaper and a fresh pack of Marlboro's. After eating, he looks at his watch. With a good two hours to go before the supposed meet, he heads down to the train station to wait it out, picking a corner to read and smoke as he waits...
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