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Aug 25, 2009 13:16:25 GMT -5
Post by Lt. David Rand on Aug 25, 2009 13:16:25 GMT -5
First Lieutenant David Rand, 1st Platoon Commanding Officer Seattle Streets, Seattle, WA, U.S.A. 1809 hours Solo Mission - Recon (Contact Not Authorized)
The spooks back at SPHQ - who operated mostly from desks, over computers - had been filtering a high amount of traffic out of police reports and the like about paranormal activity in the area around Seattle recently. Since they weren't about to leave their chairs an investigate it, the First was sent out there instead.
Normal protocol dictated they treat a mission like this one as if they were in combat, but they were in civilian territory, so the higher-ups had decided they would go in civvies. Solo.
So it was that all thirty six members of the First Special Operations Platoon were scattered across Seattle city, each one alone, and wearing civilian clothing. Sergeant First Class Robert C. Farnham, David's second-in-command, was miles away, and the closest soldier to him was Specialist Adam Foxx, four blocks away at the very least.
David was not at all comfortable with this development, but the communicator disguised as an ipod that quietly played him periodic status updates from his platoon had a calming effect on him. It was almost as if his team was right with him, hidden a few yards away in the tall grass during a night operation.
Someone else on the crowded sidewalk bumped into him just then, and he found himself nearly taking them down. He needed to get his head out of combat mode. That was never fun. Before he had a chance to breath deeply and try to relax, though, he spotted a commotion a few yards down the road.
That's certainly unusual, he thought.
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Aug 25, 2009 21:30:14 GMT -5
Post by ҉ Kenneth Lorne on Aug 25, 2009 21:30:14 GMT -5
(If this is reserved, I'll delete my post)
Ken was at work. While he and his team usually spent most of their time adding levels to skyscrapers, today they were working on something a little closer to the ground. He was busy hammering nails into the walls of a Greek restaurant. The owner was a good friend of his boss, and he agreed that he'd get his crew to help construct the new dining section. Ken had no objections, even if the pay was a little less than expected. It was a small job, but it was still money, which helped him pay rent. And buy booze. Almost in that order.
So here's what happened. Ken bet one of his co-workers that he could push a nail through a two-by-four with his bare hands. Ken made ten dollars. His co-worker (Adam), called over a bunch of other guys, and Ken made fifty more dollars. The commotion dragged more attention over, and soon people were gathering from the street to watch Ken lift a table with Adam on it, with just one hand.
"Come one, come all, to the amazing spectacle that is Kenneth Lorne!" Adam shouted from his position on the table. He flexed, as though he was the self-proclaimed spectacle. Kenneth then tipped the table on a forty-five degree angle, and Adam fell to the floor. The crowd laughed animatedly as Ken helped his friend up. It was jovial amazement that was shared, until Ken's boss came stomping back from his rather lengthy trip to the men's room.
"All of you, get back to work! What are you doing? Performing a ballet? Come on!" He had a bushy black mustache and a thick Texas accent. Their attentive audience broke off, and the men went back to tending their stations, Ken included. Thankfully, his boss loved him for getting his work done so quickly, so Ken got off scott-free. Adam on the other hand, received an ugly earful. Ken just shook his head and winked at Adam, who looked like he just swallowed a mouthful of lemon.
Mr. Lorne then decided it was time for his break. So he clocked out by marking a check next to his name on a paper near the back, and then proceeded out the front of the restaurant.
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Aug 25, 2009 21:46:25 GMT -5
Post by ©erridwen Corrigan on Aug 25, 2009 21:46:25 GMT -5
Cerridwen laughed and shook her head. "Minerva, you are ridiculous." she laughed doubling over and lifting a hand to wipe an invisible tear. "Honestly, how can you be so cruel?" She giggled. Minerva, Minerva, Minerva, oh Minerva.
Minerva just smirked and looked to her sister. "Well it's true...look at them all.." She smirked and rolled her eyes. "They are in the presents of royalty and all they do is push into me and act as if I'm normal. As if we are normal" Minerva smiled. "I think as a punishment an ice storm from hell in the middle of April." She nodded and looked to her sister. "And maybe I'll sick Riana and Karmine on them..." Minerva mused.
Cerridwen rolled her eyes at that remark. "They're not that bad though..." Cerridwen commented "They're even kind of cute, err you know..." Cerridwen added shrugging. "At least I think they are, but to each their own I guess..." Cerridwen murmured and went about looking in windows as they passed.
Minerva rolled her eyes "You think everything is cute, you always find good in something and someone, always. Anyways, wait here, I have to get something in here, and then we can go home" Minerva said and with that, disappeared into a small shop situated between two larger ones.
Cerridwen yawned, bored. She had grown quite tired of this 'sisterly bonding'. Most of it consisted of Minerva doing her errands anyways. Tres, tres boring. At least to Cerridwen. Leaning against the bricks, Cerridwen combed out her hair with her fingers as she people watched. To the average, every day human, she probably looked just like a twenty-three year old girl, luckily she had mastered the art of concealing wings. Oh wasn't she so talented?
As she people watched, Cerridwen watched a little boy, a toddler, no older than four toddle around behind it's mother with a ball. Not a huge dodgeball type, but a small bouncy ball that you could win from those corny machines. The smiles and laughter coming from the boy made Cerridwen smile. Now that had seriously been the highlight of her day, besides the fact that she got to hang out with her older sister all day.
Cerridwen was about to turn and watch someone else when she noticed the ball lose control and bounce into the street. No...No, no kid, don't do it please... Cerridwen silently prayed as she kept her eyes focused on the toddler. No. No, don't do it. Even with all the praying and silent begging, the toddler didn't get the message. He, with his big old toothy grin toddled into the road. Naturally, there were going to be cars, at that moment there weren't any which was quite odd. That was until Cerridwen noticed there were no cars because they had all cleared way for a giant truck trying to make it's way down the narrow lane.
In these types of situations, does anyone think? Ever? When has someone ever been known to think logically? To actually stop, think, and figure out what to do?
The answer is simple. No one. You never have time to think. That's why Cerridwen was already running when Minerva stepped out of the shop. That's why Cerridwen bumped into a man listening to his iPod as she was running, trying to push past him to get to the toddler, maybe that's why when Minerva shouted "Cerridwen no!" Cerridwen didn't listen. Because she wasn't thinking logically, and maybe that's why she spread her wings wide for all to see to gain speed and hopefully capture the toddler before something could hurt it.
((Oooh I can totally delete this post if Nicki was on this, she did post first >< Sorry my net's been in and out all night so when I began working on the post I didnt' see anyone post sorry ! ))
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Aug 25, 2009 22:13:01 GMT -5
Post by ҉ Kenneth Lorne on Aug 25, 2009 22:13:01 GMT -5
(This is so neither of us have to change our original posts!)
...and then proceeded out the front of the restaurant.
That was also when a fairy exposed herself to the entire ignorant world Ken thrived in. His jaw dropped. He figured the truck driver would see Cerridwen and stop, and when he looked up, indeed the driver seemed to be panicking. The guy was clearly stomping on the breaks, but the truck was huge. Ken leapt into action and jumped in front of the truck, not five feet away from Cerridwen and the boy, and braced himself for the impact. When it came, there was a sickening crunch of metal folding and cement cracking. Kenneth was completely engulfed in the front of the truck. The engine groaned, and sizzled.
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Aug 26, 2009 20:24:18 GMT -5
Post by Lt. David Rand on Aug 26, 2009 20:24:18 GMT -5
His back to the action, David did not notice the little boy stepping onto the street. However, his attention was otherwise occupied with the large crowd of people dispersing from a building under construction just down the road anyway. He wondered what all the fuss was about, though not entirely for personal reasons. Something like that could indicate supernatural activity, but it seemed that whatever had been occurring was now over either way. Naturally he would investigate regardless of whether or not he thought he would find anything. It was the nature of his duty to be meticulous.
His attention, however, shifted to the area immediately behind him as he heard engine brakes kick in. Whirling around, he caught sight of a truck rapidly approaching a young woman and a small child. Normally, his instincts would have dictated he throw himself in harm's way to save the civilians, but the fact that the young woman was decorated with a pair of apparently fully functional wings threw him off-guard. He'd only ever seen a fairy very faintly, through binoculars. This was the real deal.
He told his body to move, but it refused to respond. Time slowed as it always does, and he was aware of another person rushing by him toward the pair in danger. He was glad that someone else was taking initiative, if disappointed that it was not him. His training really should have prepared him for a situation like this. He was glad his platoon was not there to see him freeze up; confidence in him would go through the floor.
He was snapped out of it, though, when he noted that the man, instead of grabbing the woman and child, tackled the truck. It was then that his training truly kicked in, and he moved to assess the situation. His directive as a member of the Shadow Police dictated that he take any Supernaturals in for questioning, but he had an injured civilian to take care of, as well.
"All personnel in the vicinity, Code..." David spoke into his communicator, but he was given pause. In his platoon's personal codes, yellow meant casualty or injury, orange meant supernatural contact. Did he attend to the young man, or take care of the fairy?
The decision was made up for him when an important realization dawned on him; the man had tackled a truck. And it had stopped. He was hurt badly, but he was not spread all over the road, and the woman and child were safe. Clearly, the fairy was not the only supernatural being in the vicinity.
"Code Yellow. I repeat, Code Yellow at Lieutenant Rand's position. Respond immediately."
Three clicks on his communicator let him know that three of his men in the area were on their way. For now, though, he was on his own. He rushed over to the wreckage and assessed the damage to the young man. He was hurt bad, but he would live. In fact, he had come out of it amazingly well, considering. The truck and the pavement were probably worse off than he was. Nonetheless, David began tearing off strips of his civilian clothing to treat the man's wounds.
"Sir, can you hear me? Can you speak? Please tell me your name and address," he said, hoping the man was still conscious and trying to fend off shock. He applied pressure to the wounds that were bleeding the worst, and covered the man in what was left of his shirt. He was losing blood pretty quickly, and his body temperature would start dropping significantly soon, increasing the risk of him going into shock.
He worked on auto-pilot, leaving his mind free to think. He needed to get the man free of the truck, but he was stuck in it pretty badly. He would probably have to treat him as-is until his men arrived to help. He could only hope they would hurry.
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Aug 26, 2009 20:39:23 GMT -5
Post by ҉ Kenneth Lorne on Aug 26, 2009 20:39:23 GMT -5
When the truck came to a stop, Kenneth breathed a sigh of relief, only to discover that breathing was incredibly difficult, and hardly worth the risk. He cringed, and tried tugging himself free of the metal, which was very counter productive. His right arm was caught in the grill of the truck, and something smelled like burning skin. He turned his head and saw someone approach, clearly concerned, as he should be. He had no idea how much damage his body took. When he spoke, Ken opened his mouth to reply, only to discover that talking was too painful. He just shook his head, a tight grimace on his face. Oh man. Kellan was going to kill him.
He peered over the man's shoulder to where Cerridwen and the young boy were. Through his pain he manged to jerk his head to the side as if to say 'get him out of here', or maybe 'go hide'. It was hard to make out, but either message would've been a good idea. If he was going to be hero, he didn't want it to be in vain. The truck driver dismounted from his position behind the wheel, a look of horror on his face.
Ken wanted to swear, to yell, to tell him off, but if he opened his mouth he knew the breath he needed for it would hurt more than it was worth. So instead he winked, because even injured, Kenneth was a cheeky bastard. He swallowed, and turned to David. He managed a single word.
"Doctor?"
He just realized the man was tending to his wounds. How lucky would he be if this guy was some king of medical whiz?
It occurred to him, just out of the blue, that he wouldn't be coming back from his break. Even if his boss liked him, he'd probably be pissed off. A strange grin twisted over his lips, and he looked a little menacing, all bloody and smiley.
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Aug 26, 2009 20:54:14 GMT -5
Post by ©erridwen Corrigan on Aug 26, 2009 20:54:14 GMT -5
Cerridwen had grabbed the boy when a man, an idiot really jumped in front of them. Did he NOT see the giant pair of wings strapped to her back? Well not strapped, but just, there? She could take care of herself. She was one of the, if not the fastest fliers in the fae kingdom, what the hell was he doing? Pulling up as she pulled the boy to her, she watched from the air as she truck curled around the man.
Wincing, Cerridwen looked to see the toddler pulling at her hair and giggling as if nothing had gone on, or as if the kid wasn't flying. There was something SERIOUSLY wrong with this kid...
Cerridwen was being stared at, so when she lowered herself down, down to the ground to set the boy on the ground so he could go run to his mother, it felt like all eyes were torn between looking at her, and the man on the ground. Looking to the man who had just made an attempt to save her, she winced again. He didn't look to hot. Blowing out a sigh, Cerridwen tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and went over to Kenneth, standing behind what look to be a doctor. She couldn't just leave him here.
"Thank...thank you" Cerridwen managed unsure of what might happen to them. She had giant wings, and he had just totaled a truck and come out alive.
Cerridwen's wings were quite large, a very lovely green and silver, with bits of purple woven in with the colors, they went along with her aspect perfectly. The pair fluttered back and forth on their own as she looked over him. Should she take him to the fae city? Surely they could heal him, a lot faster and more efficient then the people here, that's for sure...then again would Minerva get mad? Could she even get him there by herself?
Cerridwen would just wait to see what would happen, and see if Minerva came to retrieve her. She wouldn't leave the guy here alone though, that wasn't fair, he had just saved her, sort of.
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Sept 8, 2009 19:36:33 GMT -5
Post by Lt. David Rand on Sept 8, 2009 19:36:33 GMT -5
"No," David responded to the wounded man, glad that he was at least somewhat responsive. "I'm trained in first aid and field medicine, though. And help will be here soon."
Sergeant First Class Robert C. Farnham, 1st Platoon Second-in-Command Seattle Streets, Seattle, WA, U.S.A. 1810 hours Solo Mission - Recon (Contact Not Authorized)
Sergeant Farnham was travelling down the sidewalk when the call came in. Travelling, because what he was doing was not quite walking. Sergeant Farnham seemed to be having some difficulty with being ordered to be nonchalant, and his method of moving had changed, as a result, to an awkward half-march. These things happen, though, when you tell a man who is military through and through to act like a civilian.
Sergeant Farnham was relieved, as it were, to have the call come in. Someone had been injured; he could drop the façade and go into business mode. As luck would have it, he was about a block from a hospital anyway. After sending a confirmation to his commanding officer, he began jogging toward it, telling people in a very convincing tone that they should get out of the way.
Specialist Adam Foxx, 1st Platoon Technology Expert Radio Shack, Seattle, WA, U.S.A. 1810 hours Solo Mission - Recon (Contact Not Authorized)
Specialist Foxx had decided there was no reason he couldn't be in an electronics store. He was technically still following orders. He was just doing his reconaissance inside a store, while he took a look at the newest electronic gadgets for sale. Specialists had a reputation for avoiding duties, but Adam surely held the crown when it came to skirting responsibility. The only reason he made it to such an elite position in such an elite branch of the US Military was that he somehow always managed to get the job done, and in less time than the people working their asses off.
The call came in as he was looking at a high-end, high-definition video camera, and in his rush to get the hell out of Dodge, he was out the door with the alarm blaring before he realized the camera was still in his hands. He stopped short for a second to throw the money in his wallet back into the store before sprinting toward the Lieutenant's location.
First Lieutenant David Rand, 1st Platoon Commanding Officer Seattle Streets, Seattle, WA, U.S.A. 1813 hours Solo Mission - Recon (Contact Not Authorized
David had mostly controlled the bleeding and was satisfied there were no breaks in the spinal column, which meant that they could move the man without making his condition any worse, so he turned his attention momentarily away from the man and took inventory of the situation around him.
There was a crowd of people gathered around the accident site - the police hadn't arrived yet to hold them back - and there was a winged lady standing almost directly behind him. All things considered, he was not in a very good position. He hadn't even been authorized to make contact on this mission, and he had already done so on two counts, if not more. He may have been given consideration for actually accomplishing the main objective of the Shadow Police had the public not been so aware of the incident. As it were, he would be demoted and shamed if they didn't get the situation under control.
Luckily, he had the other men and women of his platoon to depend on. He had the utmost faith in them and their abilities, and knew that as soon as they arrived, things would take a turn for the better.
And arrive they did. Specialist Foxx first, carrying a camera for God knows what reason, but he simply stood on the street corner and stared at the mess, and the fairy in particular. David was about to chew him out, but an ambulance arrived and Sergeant Farnham hopped out, taking the lieutenant's attention away from his inferior. Sergeant Farnham delivered a quick salute and waited for further orders while the paramedics removed a stretcher from the ambulance.
"Two Special contacts," David informed him, in a terse whisper. "The victim and the fairy."
If Sergeant Farnham was fazed by the presence of the fairy he did not show it.
"Help me get the victim out of the wreckage and onto the stretcher. We'll take him to the Ward. It's the best medical care he'll get around here anyway."
"Yes sir!"
The two men set to work removing the man carefully from the wreckage and helping the paramedics get him onto the stretcher. The paramedics seemed confused by the situation, but were too well trained to worry about trivial things when the safety of a person was at risk. Sergeant Farnham boarded the ambulance with the paramedics, and David signalled that he would be with him in a moment.
"Ma'am," he said, approaching the fairy. "I would suggest that you put... those away." He gestured to her wings. "If at all possible. It would be better for all of us if we didn't cause more of a scene than we already have."
Then he jogged to the ambulance, stopping only to bark an order at the still-frozen Foxx. "Foxx! Damage Control!"
As much as he disliked putting such an important task on the Specialist's shoulders, it was better that he and Sergeant Farnham were there when they brought the kid in for medical attention; things would go a lot more smoothly that way.
Corporal Amanda Harriet, 1st Platoon Seattle Streets, Seattle, WA, U.S.A. 1810 hours Solo Mission - Recon (Contact Not Authorized)
Amanda came to a halt at the site of the accident just as the ambulance was leaving, finding herself mere yards behind Specialist Foxx, who was standing there like an idiot. Not that she would have expected much more from the man. Querying the lieutenant on her communicator, she surveyed the scene. It didn't look good.
"Corporal Harriet? Thank heavens. Foxx would be standing there all day before he moved. I need damage control, and quick. Sergeant Farnham and I are headed for the Ward. Rendezvous there afterward."
Amanda sent a com click back as confirmation. She would get stuck on clean-up duty again. It probably had something to do with her being so good at it.
"Alright people, that's a wrap!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, walking right into the crowd. Spotting the fairy standing there gave her momentary pause, but she recovered quickly and made her way over to the woman. "Good job out there today, Jessica. You can head back to your trailer now. Foxx! Put the damn camera down, we're done filming!"
Foxx seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in at the sound of Amanda's voice, and he played idly with the camera in his hands, trying his best to go along with the plan Amanda had come up with on such short notice.
Amanda sighed to herself. That would take care of the majority of it, but her and the rest of the platoon would be there all evening dealing with the more involved and intelligent people in the crowd. She wasn't looking forward to it.
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Sept 8, 2009 22:28:31 GMT -5
Post by ҉ Kenneth Lorne on Sept 8, 2009 22:28:31 GMT -5
Kenneth was in too much pain to be confused over the number of capable hands extracting him from the truck, or the woman adressing Cerridwen as though she was some kind of actress. He wondered for a moment if he'd put his life in danger and wound up screwing up some movie being shot in the streets, but he didn't care very much when the bent and broken metal scraped at his skin, trying to keep him ensnared in their sharp claws.
"Field medicine?" He grunted through his grimace, trying to keep himself conscious by carrying on the conversation. He hated passing out. The last time he was rendered unconscious, he was tortured nearly to his death. This pain certainly brought back memories, although this pain reflected flesh wounds, rather than his soul being shredded from the inside out.
"You soldier?" Kenneth himself had briefly flirted with the idea of joining the army. He thought he would be so cool and so useful to the military, but his mother wouldn't have any of it. She only had her sons for a short amount of time, and she didn't want to lose any prematurely. Rowena would probably kill him if she could see him now.
But before he could consider his mother's fury, or hear the lieutenant's answer, Kenneth coughed, and he wondered if he had some metal stuck in his throat. Something sure tasted rusty in there. The young man couldn't see it, but there was blood on his lip. His whole tongue felt like it was coated in liquid salt.
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Jan 16, 2010 23:59:24 GMT -5
Post by ©erridwen Corrigan on Jan 16, 2010 23:59:24 GMT -5
Cerridwen looked around looking for someone to explain. Where were they taking him? She closed her eyes and shook her head frustrated. Why did there have to be the secrets? Why did Cerridwen have to be a secret? Imagine how much good they could do if she just...exposed herself. Help the planet, restore the rain forest, err well try to, and save people. The fae magic and healing practices were stronger than anything the mere humans could come up with. Sure the fae had their problems, but this wasn't about them.
For a minute Cerridwen stood in place taking in her surroundings. Then another thought struck her. 'I..am...so...screwed.' Minerva was going to kill her. Though that WOULD be the perfect time to suggest exposing, even if she already sort of did it today.
Finally moving towards the man with a camera, Cerridwen cringed at the sounds of the woman's booming voice. Did she really have to shout? Apparently. Cerridwen pushed her hair out of her face and smiled a hesitant smile at him. She doubted she could use her looks against the human woman anyways. This would be much more effective. "Excuse me.." Cerridwen spoke looking to him, batting her green eyes and standing up a little straighter. "Could you possibly tell me where you people are taking him?" She asked trying not to sound frustrated or angry. Sweet, if she could stay sweet and charming, he would give her the answers she needed. Clearly, the boy who had saved her had needed help..and these stupid humans weren't equipped to handle such a task. At least Cerridwen didn't think so.
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Feb 24, 2010 20:52:36 GMT -5
Post by Lt. David Rand on Feb 24, 2010 20:52:36 GMT -5
(Sorry for the wait, I had not realized you posted.)
Regardless of the faerie's friendly demeanour, Foxx looked nothing short of terrified by her approach. One hand held the camera dumbly by his side while the other shakily made its way toward his hip. The woman's questions barely registered in his mind; evidently his training hadn't been nearly enough to prepare him for the real thing. There would definitely be consequences for this later, though the First did have different guidelines for dealing with men freezing up in the line of duty. Their superiors were at least somewhat understanding of the special situation Shadow Police were in.
"I-I-I... I d-d..."
Harriet walked up to him by this point and grabbed his hand, which she knew was reaching for a concealed sidearm loaded with tranq darts. The last thing she needed was for him to cause even more of a commotion. "What he's trying to say is that he's getting medical attention," she said. She lowered her voice even further before going on. "Don't you people have rules about this kind of thing? You're in the middle of a city, for Christ's sake. I know you can hide those things," she gestured toward her wings, "so why don't you put them away and go along with this and we'll avoid creating an international goddamn incident!"
By this time, other members of her platoon were arriving, getting started immediately on damage control; luckily she had managed to brief them over the comm before coming to Foxx's rescue. They were doing an admirable job of convincing the bystanders that yes, they had been filming a scene from a Hollywood action flick, and yes, there had been an accident, but it was all under control. A stunt had gone awry but things were going to be okay.
A second ambulance had arrived as well as some police officers, and although her comrades had it under control, debriefing the police as well as the civilians, she felt the itch. She needed to be doing something other than dealing with this fairytale creature.
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