Entry tags:
::Open Post:: Who Do You Voodoo?
Open post for Agent Louisiana (RvB PFL OC). Bring along AUs, shenanigans and more here! Whatever you desire so long as you hit me up first for concocting. [Finger guns] Cheers!
Crime AU: Wicked Game
Bounty hunting wasn't exactly illegal so to speak but the prospect of killing anyone that gets in the way and breaking and entering tended to make them on the wrong side of the law more times than not. The real challenge was making certain not to be caught before turning over whatever the bounty dictated to do. Sometimes it was priceless jewels or a cache of weapons or maybe even a rather nice stash of cold hard cash. However there was always the odd chance that it would be a person.
The game that was played was can turn upside down in an instance. That's why it was nice to have a partner along in case things decided to go sideways and become a clusterfuck of awful. She was lucky enough to have one that was experienced and trustworthy. Both of those details far more important than anything else that can be thrown onto the table really.
Tonight was one of those times where they would have to recover a hostage. The family didn't have the money to pay the ransom but they weren't cheap enough to not turn to the duo with an offer of payment. Half of it was already sitting in an account and the other would be paid when they got them out safe.
Crossing across the warehouse turned small base, Louisiana heads over to the weapons locker and starts taking out the necessary equipment. She's already donned the protective bodysuit before layering on her outfit over top to keep it hidden away from prying eyes. Her hands running over pieces and parts to make sure that everything would run smoothly when the time came. Each weapon being checked over meticulously before stowed away into a protective case.
She didn't mind doing the weapons check for the both of them. However it would be nice fore her partner to come out and make certain that she didn't skimp over anything that he would need. Still she wasn't going to make the effort of calling him out...yet.
The game that was played was can turn upside down in an instance. That's why it was nice to have a partner along in case things decided to go sideways and become a clusterfuck of awful. She was lucky enough to have one that was experienced and trustworthy. Both of those details far more important than anything else that can be thrown onto the table really.
Tonight was one of those times where they would have to recover a hostage. The family didn't have the money to pay the ransom but they weren't cheap enough to not turn to the duo with an offer of payment. Half of it was already sitting in an account and the other would be paid when they got them out safe.
Crossing across the warehouse turned small base, Louisiana heads over to the weapons locker and starts taking out the necessary equipment. She's already donned the protective bodysuit before layering on her outfit over top to keep it hidden away from prying eyes. Her hands running over pieces and parts to make sure that everything would run smoothly when the time came. Each weapon being checked over meticulously before stowed away into a protective case.
She didn't mind doing the weapons check for the both of them. However it would be nice fore her partner to come out and make certain that she didn't skimp over anything that he would need. Still she wasn't going to make the effort of calling him out...yet.
A Little Conversation
[A recording dating back many years. Piano music plays in the background for the first couple of minutes. It then slows to a halt. There are two voices, one belonging to a Captain Tyler Kain and the other a young Alexis Kain.]
Tyler: ...Kiddo, how about I teach you this?
Alexis: I'm not good enough.
Tyler: You're good enough to do anything you want to do, Alex. It's not like hunting or swimming but they all require practice, right?
Alexis: Yes sir.
Tyler: So come on and try to follow.
[Several minutes pass full of attempts. Stronger more confident playing is followed by softer and hesitant key strokes.]
Tyler: You've almost got it.
Alexis: I don't know...
Tyler: Détendez-vous. C'est bon pour maintenant.
Alexis: Quel est le nom de cette chanson?
Tyler: 'Je suis perdu sans toi'.
Alexis: Why this one?
Tyler: Well I listen to it when I'm at the base and off on tour. It reminds me of you and your mother. It feels calming rather than jolting. Plus it's easy to remember. So whenever I'm not around you can play this and think of me. To not be so lonely as well as not be such a handful for your mother.
Alexis: You always come back though. Tu promets toujours.
Tyler: Maybe you could entertain the idea for this old man. And oui, I keep my promises.
Alexis: Just like about this weekend?
Tyler: [laughter] So long as you stay out of trouble.
Alexis: Yes sir, mon captaine! Is Uncle Travis coming?
Tyler: I don't know. You know spooks. They're all work and no fun. Your uncle fits the description.
Alexis: He says that I could be a spook if I wanted to to prove you wrong.
Tyler: I won't let you turn into a ghost so long as I'm around, minnow.
Alexis: I am not a minnow!
Tyler: Could of fooled me.
Alexis: I'm a shark! Rar!
Tyler: Oh no shark attack! I'm doomed! Save me! Oh the horror!
[Both erupt into laughter as sounds of a scuffle are heard]
Tyler: What am I going to do with you?
Alexis: I dunno.
Tyler: Of course. Je t'aime, Alex.
///END OF RECORDING
Tyler: ...Kiddo, how about I teach you this?
Alexis: I'm not good enough.
Tyler: You're good enough to do anything you want to do, Alex. It's not like hunting or swimming but they all require practice, right?
Alexis: Yes sir.
Tyler: So come on and try to follow.
[Several minutes pass full of attempts. Stronger more confident playing is followed by softer and hesitant key strokes.]
Tyler: You've almost got it.
Alexis: I don't know...
Tyler: Détendez-vous. C'est bon pour maintenant.
Alexis: Quel est le nom de cette chanson?
Tyler: 'Je suis perdu sans toi'.
Alexis: Why this one?
Tyler: Well I listen to it when I'm at the base and off on tour. It reminds me of you and your mother. It feels calming rather than jolting. Plus it's easy to remember. So whenever I'm not around you can play this and think of me. To not be so lonely as well as not be such a handful for your mother.
Alexis: You always come back though. Tu promets toujours.
Tyler: Maybe you could entertain the idea for this old man. And oui, I keep my promises.
Alexis: Just like about this weekend?
Tyler: [laughter] So long as you stay out of trouble.
Alexis: Yes sir, mon captaine! Is Uncle Travis coming?
Tyler: I don't know. You know spooks. They're all work and no fun. Your uncle fits the description.
Alexis: He says that I could be a spook if I wanted to to prove you wrong.
Tyler: I won't let you turn into a ghost so long as I'm around, minnow.
Alexis: I am not a minnow!
Tyler: Could of fooled me.
Alexis: I'm a shark! Rar!
Tyler: Oh no shark attack! I'm doomed! Save me! Oh the horror!
[Both erupt into laughter as sounds of a scuffle are heard]
Tyler: What am I going to do with you?
Alexis: I dunno.
Tyler: Of course. Je t'aime, Alex.
///END OF RECORDING
Heavy Price Paid
[A well creased letter that is stashed away in an interior pocket of the primary bags used for gear. It's embellished with the seal of the UNSC Marine Corps at the top and the lettering is slightly faded over time. A photo of a smiling man in an officer uniform is attached.]
6/1/XXXX
Mrs. Evelyn Kain,
I wanted you to know how much we regret to inform you of the loss of your husband, Captain Tyler Virgil Kain, in the early hours of today. The entire unit joins me in sending our deepest sympathies and understanding during this period of bereavement.
Tyler was one of the best soldiers I had the pleasure of knowing in the 22nd Tactical Battalion. I am personally aware of the numerous professional jobs Tyler did to support his unit and the Battalion mission. Additionally, Tyler spoke quite often about not only you but also your daughter, Alexis. He wanted to make you both proud in what he did.
His personality was one of promoting teamwork and positive motivation. Not once did I not see him without a smile or encouraging words coming from him. Tyler was a top notch officer. I would almost say he was over qualified for the post that he maintained at the battalion.
At this time we are uncertain as to what caused his untimely demise to occur. An unknown assailant was seen leaving the base premise after the military police were dispatched. A full investigation is underway to see why your husband was targeted and taken in a cruel fashion. Office of Naval Intelligence officials can confirm that this was the work of a mercenary and they are extremely dangerous. Tyler's brother, Travis, has been notified to make sure proper protection is given to you and Alexis.
Please know that we share in your pain and sorrow and pay our final respects to one of our best friends and comrades. Tyler will certainly be missed by all of us.
Nathan C. Walsh
Lieutenant Colonel
22nd Tactical Marine Battalion
6/1/XXXX
Mrs. Evelyn Kain,
I wanted you to know how much we regret to inform you of the loss of your husband, Captain Tyler Virgil Kain, in the early hours of today. The entire unit joins me in sending our deepest sympathies and understanding during this period of bereavement.
Tyler was one of the best soldiers I had the pleasure of knowing in the 22nd Tactical Battalion. I am personally aware of the numerous professional jobs Tyler did to support his unit and the Battalion mission. Additionally, Tyler spoke quite often about not only you but also your daughter, Alexis. He wanted to make you both proud in what he did.
His personality was one of promoting teamwork and positive motivation. Not once did I not see him without a smile or encouraging words coming from him. Tyler was a top notch officer. I would almost say he was over qualified for the post that he maintained at the battalion.
At this time we are uncertain as to what caused his untimely demise to occur. An unknown assailant was seen leaving the base premise after the military police were dispatched. A full investigation is underway to see why your husband was targeted and taken in a cruel fashion. Office of Naval Intelligence officials can confirm that this was the work of a mercenary and they are extremely dangerous. Tyler's brother, Travis, has been notified to make sure proper protection is given to you and Alexis.
Please know that we share in your pain and sorrow and pay our final respects to one of our best friends and comrades. Tyler will certainly be missed by all of us.
Nathan C. Walsh
Lieutenant Colonel
22nd Tactical Marine Battalion
Audio Journal 5/23 - Never needed sleep to start with
Pretty certain that I permanently have dark rings under my eyes. Look like I got punched. Again. Another round of not sleeping but this time completely different reason. Still another bad call. I've been on almost a constant streak of those since I've gotten here. Actually more so since I got involved with the For Hires again and this Ai family.
...I should've left when I could. Now I'm just a tired idiot left wide awake in an atrium. (Note to self: At least I remember how to climb a tree. Hopefully I don't pass out up here.)
I've been constantly doing jobs. Doing reconnaissance and targeting for Control. Haunting someone before ending them kept me focused. These lulls at the hotel don't help however. It allows me to think. At least no one is here to question why. No one to break this familiar routine. I don't need to bother anyone with my problems.
There was that break on Wednesday. It was rather fun and nice. A good way to step away from the constant what ifs and memories that want to tear me apart. It aggravated some wounds though. Some cuts on my side had bled through the bandage and onto my shirt. At least I had my jacket to cover the mess. Also thank dieu for pain killers. It helps hide injuries...only physical ones though.
Why did I let myself ramble? Why couldn't I have seen the signs better? I never meant any harm but my confusion and stupidity created this. Just...huh. I didn't run away. I should've. I regret everything so much but I've already done so much damage.
Why do I miss him? Dammit I said farewell. That should be it. End of story. No more. He doesn't want to see me again. It was clear. So enough.
...I'll delete this later. At least I got it out in a recording. There's more work to be done. Maybe that will help. For now I'll stick to enjoying time in a tree.
...I should've left when I could. Now I'm just a tired idiot left wide awake in an atrium. (Note to self: At least I remember how to climb a tree. Hopefully I don't pass out up here.)
I've been constantly doing jobs. Doing reconnaissance and targeting for Control. Haunting someone before ending them kept me focused. These lulls at the hotel don't help however. It allows me to think. At least no one is here to question why. No one to break this familiar routine. I don't need to bother anyone with my problems.
There was that break on Wednesday. It was rather fun and nice. A good way to step away from the constant what ifs and memories that want to tear me apart. It aggravated some wounds though. Some cuts on my side had bled through the bandage and onto my shirt. At least I had my jacket to cover the mess. Also thank dieu for pain killers. It helps hide injuries...only physical ones though.
Why did I let myself ramble? Why couldn't I have seen the signs better? I never meant any harm but my confusion and stupidity created this. Just...huh. I didn't run away. I should've. I regret everything so much but I've already done so much damage.
Why do I miss him? Dammit I said farewell. That should be it. End of story. No more. He doesn't want to see me again. It was clear. So enough.
...I'll delete this later. At least I got it out in a recording. There's more work to be done. Maybe that will help. For now I'll stick to enjoying time in a tree.
Journal 5/7 - Failure
...
...
...Gone. Nothing. No note. Not even a trace.
Did I... I couldn't have. No. But he's gone so I did. Promise isn't there anymore. I failed.
I can't stay here anymore. No more. I've asked Control for a job. Anything. Get me out of here. Make me leave. They gave me coordinates to a gang's hideout. Kill them all, they said. I'll do it if it gets me away from here. I can't stay. I won't. No.
I won't fail them.
Safe house is on the black list for nav now. ...why did I come back to fail? To lose? Focus. Complete the mission. Forget about the promise. Do as I'm told. Go back to being a ghost.
...I failed though.
...
...Gone. Nothing. No note. Not even a trace.
Did I... I couldn't have. No. But he's gone so I did. Promise isn't there anymore. I failed.
I can't stay here anymore. No more. I've asked Control for a job. Anything. Get me out of here. Make me leave. They gave me coordinates to a gang's hideout. Kill them all, they said. I'll do it if it gets me away from here. I can't stay. I won't. No.
I won't fail them.
Safe house is on the black list for nav now. ...why did I come back to fail? To lose? Focus. Complete the mission. Forget about the promise. Do as I'm told. Go back to being a ghost.
...I failed though.
Journal 5/6 - Attack
It happened. Again. I was sitting in the hall and I let myself get overwhelmed. I was terrified. Nothing wanted to work and I simply broke down. I couldn't call Maine again and I didn't want to bother Florida. So I tried to be quiet as it passed. Felt like hours.
Why can't they stay away? I'm supposed to be strong not fractured. Not left clutching my knees to my chest and hoping the fear goes away. Not wanting to tear something apart out of frustration. But it still happened. I'm just laying here, staring at the ceiling.
Hopefully what happened went unnoticed. I don't need to cause trouble. Just need to focus and breathe.
Why can't they stay away? I'm supposed to be strong not fractured. Not left clutching my knees to my chest and hoping the fear goes away. Not wanting to tear something apart out of frustration. But it still happened. I'm just laying here, staring at the ceiling.
Hopefully what happened went unnoticed. I don't need to cause trouble. Just need to focus and breathe.
Journal 5/2 - After the Storm
Everyone needs time on their own. Florida shouldn't be an exception. He wanted time so I'm giving it. Most of my gear was stashed in the closet of the room I stayed in. I didn't need to draw attention to myself while out. My M6C was left somewhere. ...the kitchen? Nah. The desk. That's it.
I decided to hit Smithson's and see what kind of customs they could offer. My status as Spectre and Louisiana wasn't going to end well for the people in my life at this rate. I wanted something that was tough but not the Commando. To at least wear when not working. Suggested this one design meant to take hits and streamlined.
Venator it's called. It has the minimum exposed visor that I'm used to. Yet it's more angular and intimidating than my merc build. Maine would approve of that part. Paint job has more blue and grey than black. The rest of the mods were prioritized tracking and visor modes in case trouble did come. Which it will. It always does. ...shouldn't wear it when I finally get back though. Just show it.
Control did call. They were...displeased to put it short. I got orders to clean up the mess in return for the "clarification" I provided regarding the contract. So after getting the helmet, I went to work. Body disposal isn't fun. Part of the job though. Especially in the work of making people disappear. However someone had been there.
Bodies moved about. Foot prints in the blood. Two sets. That wasn't a thrilling detail to find. Especially with how Control tends to work. That or they were enemies of Control. Which won't make things better. Ackerson's helmet was off. Audio storage had been rummaged through. Someone knew Spectre, me, had been there. They knew about Control. They knew of what Florida went through.
For now, I'll stay in Gulch. Taking refuge in that safe house. Again. Protection of family mattered. It'll at least keep me focused. Away from the thought of losing once more. I don't want those attacks to come back. Panic and fear won't do Florida any good.
I decided to hit Smithson's and see what kind of customs they could offer. My status as Spectre and Louisiana wasn't going to end well for the people in my life at this rate. I wanted something that was tough but not the Commando. To at least wear when not working. Suggested this one design meant to take hits and streamlined.
Venator it's called. It has the minimum exposed visor that I'm used to. Yet it's more angular and intimidating than my merc build. Maine would approve of that part. Paint job has more blue and grey than black. The rest of the mods were prioritized tracking and visor modes in case trouble did come. Which it will. It always does. ...shouldn't wear it when I finally get back though. Just show it.
Control did call. They were...displeased to put it short. I got orders to clean up the mess in return for the "clarification" I provided regarding the contract. So after getting the helmet, I went to work. Body disposal isn't fun. Part of the job though. Especially in the work of making people disappear. However someone had been there.
Bodies moved about. Foot prints in the blood. Two sets. That wasn't a thrilling detail to find. Especially with how Control tends to work. That or they were enemies of Control. Which won't make things better. Ackerson's helmet was off. Audio storage had been rummaged through. Someone knew Spectre, me, had been there. They knew about Control. They knew of what Florida went through.
For now, I'll stay in Gulch. Taking refuge in that safe house. Again. Protection of family mattered. It'll at least keep me focused. Away from the thought of losing once more. I don't want those attacks to come back. Panic and fear won't do Florida any good.
Journal Entry 4/25 - Time to vanish again...
I've done quite the number of things in my time back in Gulch. Most were unexpected and caused repercussions that should've been avoided. Old relationships seemed to still be there yet damaged in one's case probably. Never really knew how to actually be helpful. Attachments make things...complicated.
Control has been contacted. The request for extraction back to Armonia confirmed having been received. I've already collected the few things I had on me from Florida's safe house. I made it look as though I never had been there in the first place. Probably have over stayed my welcome there anyway. Especially after the fort incident. So for now I'm going to find a suitable space to claim for the time being.
However it's weird to be solitary again. How did I get attached to having company around? I'm hesitant to leave. Not only for two mercenaries but Sigma. They'll do fine without me though. It's time to go back to being a ghost anyway.
Control has been contacted. The request for extraction back to Armonia confirmed having been received. I've already collected the few things I had on me from Florida's safe house. I made it look as though I never had been there in the first place. Probably have over stayed my welcome there anyway. Especially after the fort incident. So for now I'm going to find a suitable space to claim for the time being.
However it's weird to be solitary again. How did I get attached to having company around? I'm hesitant to leave. Not only for two mercenaries but Sigma. They'll do fine without me though. It's time to go back to being a ghost anyway.
Entry tags:
Mercenary Mayhem IC Contact
I apologize for being unavailable. Keep it short if you're a client. I'll get back to you when I can. À la prochaine.
Entry tags:
Application for Mercenary Mayhem
OOC INFO
Name: Drake
Contact: spartanswimmer113@gmail.com, Drake Miller on Skype (same email)
Other characters played here: N/A
Age: Over 18
IC INFO
Name: Alexis Kain Blaise
Alias: Louisiana, Spectre
Native, OU, or AU: Native
Character journal used:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spectre_de_la_mort
Personality: Louisiana is typically a more reserved in her nature, taking time to analyze and assess a person or situation before making a move. Trust is always an issue that takes time to be earned with her. However she isn't unwilling to speak her mind when the situation calls for it. She uses tactics and intelligence over brawn in most missions in order to gain the upper hand. Rather than call attention to herself, she will tend to stick to the shadows and use them to her advantage.
She has a caring nature that sometimes causes her to question her actions. This falter makes her have issues with self confidence and generally manifests in the form of seeking solitude in order to think things through. A fearful hatred for heat has seemed to spawn along with one for failure or being rejected. Sometimes her temper overrides her judgement which she usually later regrets.
Back story: The creation of the person known as Louisiana started out simple enough with her family living on the planet Emerald Cove nearby a military base. Her father was a marine that was targeted and eliminated by an assassin due to a classified operation causing a stir. She would later join the military to follow his footsteps but didn't find the answers she wanted nor the peace she desired. So leaving boot camp, she decided to set herself on her own path. Louisiana left her home and her old name behind to venture out among the planets.
Settling onto Adaptive was the concreting fact into her becoming a mercenary. In the beginning, she started out with simple jobs of body-guarding and transporting of goods between the cities. It wasn't until refining her skills in stealth and weaponry did she pursue assassination missions. Her first successful target elimination was at the age of twenty. It was rough and she earned a pair of facial scars to remind herself of her careless mistakes.
A few years later, Louisiana found herself on a botched job which resulted in her capture and torture for information. The plasma burn on her left cheek a lasting mark of the trial endured. Her personality shifted to one more cold and calculating as her associates had nearly left her for dead. Burning the bridges with them, she found herself being propositioned with a long term contract and Spectre was born.
Most of her old contacts have lost contact with her. Though she doesn't mind in almost all cases and proceeds to do what Control has dictated to do.
Sample:
Burning. It was such an intense heat that Louisiana wanted to claw at the area. To get rid of the sensation. She screams her lungs out as the pain intensifies. It chews through the tissue it touches. Mutilating the flesh into the image it wanted to see. A formless terror that sunk its fangs deep. Her voice grew hoarse as the agony shreds through her defenses. It was driving her mad that no one was rushing to aid her. Tears rush down her face as she shrieks in retort.
Could no one hear her pleading for relief? Should she call out louder? Where was her backup?
…Why was no one there to help?
Her body contorts in a desperate bid for freedom. Shoulders aching sharply as her back muscles nearly seize with each new wave. Her voice cracks as her lungs feel ready to burst. Heart beating against ribs in a sickening rhythm. Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum.
Then it was gone.
Name: Drake
Contact: spartanswimmer113@gmail.com, Drake Miller on Skype (same email)
Other characters played here: N/A
Age: Over 18
IC INFO
Name: Alexis Kain Blaise
Alias: Louisiana, Spectre
Native, OU, or AU: Native
Character journal used:
spectre_de_la_mortPersonality: Louisiana is typically a more reserved in her nature, taking time to analyze and assess a person or situation before making a move. Trust is always an issue that takes time to be earned with her. However she isn't unwilling to speak her mind when the situation calls for it. She uses tactics and intelligence over brawn in most missions in order to gain the upper hand. Rather than call attention to herself, she will tend to stick to the shadows and use them to her advantage.
She has a caring nature that sometimes causes her to question her actions. This falter makes her have issues with self confidence and generally manifests in the form of seeking solitude in order to think things through. A fearful hatred for heat has seemed to spawn along with one for failure or being rejected. Sometimes her temper overrides her judgement which she usually later regrets.
Back story: The creation of the person known as Louisiana started out simple enough with her family living on the planet Emerald Cove nearby a military base. Her father was a marine that was targeted and eliminated by an assassin due to a classified operation causing a stir. She would later join the military to follow his footsteps but didn't find the answers she wanted nor the peace she desired. So leaving boot camp, she decided to set herself on her own path. Louisiana left her home and her old name behind to venture out among the planets.
Settling onto Adaptive was the concreting fact into her becoming a mercenary. In the beginning, she started out with simple jobs of body-guarding and transporting of goods between the cities. It wasn't until refining her skills in stealth and weaponry did she pursue assassination missions. Her first successful target elimination was at the age of twenty. It was rough and she earned a pair of facial scars to remind herself of her careless mistakes.
A few years later, Louisiana found herself on a botched job which resulted in her capture and torture for information. The plasma burn on her left cheek a lasting mark of the trial endured. Her personality shifted to one more cold and calculating as her associates had nearly left her for dead. Burning the bridges with them, she found herself being propositioned with a long term contract and Spectre was born.
Most of her old contacts have lost contact with her. Though she doesn't mind in almost all cases and proceeds to do what Control has dictated to do.
Sample:
Burning. It was such an intense heat that Louisiana wanted to claw at the area. To get rid of the sensation. She screams her lungs out as the pain intensifies. It chews through the tissue it touches. Mutilating the flesh into the image it wanted to see. A formless terror that sunk its fangs deep. Her voice grew hoarse as the agony shreds through her defenses. It was driving her mad that no one was rushing to aid her. Tears rush down her face as she shrieks in retort.
Could no one hear her pleading for relief? Should she call out louder? Where was her backup?
…Why was no one there to help?
Her body contorts in a desperate bid for freedom. Shoulders aching sharply as her back muscles nearly seize with each new wave. Her voice cracks as her lungs feel ready to burst. Heart beating against ribs in a sickening rhythm. Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum.
Then it was gone.