Reporting For Duty

[peacekeeper]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Fred]

[ktshelley]

[Steven Trustrum]

[ktshelley]

[Steven Trustrum]

[To everyone except Todd and Bram]
You all enter the elevator and head up to the third floor. The elevator opens on a rather sterile hallway typical of military banality and practicality. A polished sign board mounted to the wall indicates the conference room is to your left where you see a number of wood-paneled doors. One of the doors is just closing, and a marine stands to either side of it.

[Steven Trustrum]

[Bram]
The figure in the corner stands and walks to the door. The shadows still seem to cling to him. You can, however, tell that he has a wiry, muscular build and moves with a calm sense of confidence.

He pokes his head out of the door as though ready to walk out, but you hear him and one of the guards exchange a few brief words about not being able to leave before the briefing starts, and then the man closes the door and returns to his seat.

[Steven Trustrum]

[Todd]
As you turn to go back to your seat you notice a small table stands behind the podium near the room's right-most extreme. A pitcher of ice water and seven empty glasses sits upon it.

[vidar]

[Steven Trustrum]

[vidar]

[Christina]

[Steven Trustrum]

[To everyone except Bram and Todd]
One by one you've shown the Marines your military IDs and go through the door, which opens to the room's rear. The floor slants downwards to your right. Four rows of chairs, six chairs each, stretch before you towards the opposite wall, each row lower than the last. At the room's rightmost extreme is a podium with a projection screen and several dry-erase boards behind it. A small table stands behind the podium with a pitcher of ice water and six empty glasses.

One of your fellow new arrivals--the first to reach the Marines and enter the room--already stretches between two chairs, reclining back with a glass of ice water, appearing to settle down for a good sleep. In the first row is someone new: of below average height, his brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail that reveals rectangular eyeglasses that seem too large for his skinny face and frame. He wears an unmarked black jumpsuit and seems somewhat out of his element, even somewhat intimidated, as he watches you and your fellow military-types walk in.

Another man sits in the far corner of the back row, effortlessly hiding in the shadows.

[Steven Trustrum]

[We're just waiting on Bob getting his character straightened out. Anyone want to do anything while we wait?]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Bob's character is done for the most part, so we'll move on a bit]

The group of 5 new arrivals moves into the conference room, followed soon after by another newcomer on his own. He is wiry but fills out his black suit, his equally dark tie hanging from a worn and weathered face topped by short, greying brown hair.

When the last of you takes your seat, the door opens again and a man wearing a black jump suit, sidearm at hip, enters and walks to the podium. The man is likely in his early 50s if the lines of his face and streaks in his dark, cropped hair are any indication. He has a serious look about him and the eagles pinned to his lapels would seem to indicate this is the colonel you've all been waiting for.

"Alright, gentleman" he begins. "Some of you know where you are because you were already assigned to the facility, some of you may have figured it out, and the rest of you are still going to be in the dark. This is why we took your watches--we couldn't have any of you timing your trip and airspeed to make a more educated guess as to where you now are. They'll be returned to you afterward, one way or the other."

He takes a moment, pours himself some water, which he then sips, and then goes on.

"What I'm about to tell you--what I'm about to ask of you--is of the utmost importance to the war effort. However, because of the assignment's nature you are each being granted the chance to back out. The assignment is important, yes, but make no doubt that you'll be placed in harm's way like never before. There's no shame in refusing, in which case you'll be returned to your unit with no black mark entered on your record. If you choose to stay, you'll be taking a bold new step forward in your life, and towards aiding the war effort. The choice, is yours. I'll give you a few minutes to think it over. Anyone who isn't interested can go wait out in the hall. I'll return shortly."

With that, the colonel leaves the room and you can hear his boots echo down the hallway, their echo the only sound breaking the heavy silence filling the room.

[Jack Grey]

[vidar]

[Jack Grey]

[ktshelley]

With that, the colonel leaves the room and you can hear his boots echo down the hallway, their echo the only sound breaking the heavy silence filling the room.

The figure in shadows leans forward in his chair not bothing to get up, allowing the unnatural lighting in the room to reveal his worn looking face.

"The names Lance Corporal Devon Sparks, I do Recon, now if any one knows whats going on, I sure as hell would like to know".

Leaning back into my chair allowing the shadows to once again take hold

[vidar]

[vidar]

[Jack Grey]

[Steven Trustrum]

[on behalf of Christina]
The small, thin white man withbright red hair and freckled face who earlier identified himself as a chaplain absently rubs the crucifix around his neck, like he's nervous or craving something, and then stands up.

"Sergeant O'Rourke at your service, but my friends call me Reverend Randy or Rev. If the good lord saw fit to bring me here, who am I to back out? I'm in. All the way."

He then sits down and let's go off the crucifix, absently pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his thigh pouch. He takes out a cigarette and then seems to notice what he's doing for the first time. Looking around, he puts the cigarette back, nearly fumbling and dropping the pack. With a self-depreciating smile, he returns the pack to the pouch and sits back to await what happens next as he once again goes back to rolling the crucifix in his hand without noticing.

[Steven Trustrum]

[on behalf of Fred]
"Corporal Sergio Keane. I'm in too" the tanned man who earlier introduced himself says without standing. He clearly considers this waiting a waste of time and a formality, like he just wants to get on with his duty.

[Ulzgoroth]

The weedy man in the unmarked jumpsuit follows the introductions with obvious interest. He says nothing.

[vidar]

[Steven Trustrum]

[Seeing as no one else is talking and no one has left, we'll move on.]

The colonel returns shortly and moves behind the podium again. "Glad to see we were right about you all. Now, let's get down to business."

With that, a young man in a black jump suit with a corporal's insignia on the shoulder enters bearing a stack of files. Each is stamped with the dark eagle of Section 51. He makes the room's rounds, handing each of you a stack of 8 files. Once done, he leaves.

"Each of you now has the military records of your teammates. Well, the unclassified parts, that is. Read them. Get to know who you'll be working with. I'll give you a few minutes to scan the information so you'll have an idea of what's ahead for you."

[Check out this thread: http://www.misfit-studios.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=402 ; it summarizes very briefly what you'll find in the files. If you want more specific information about anyone, PM me and I'll let you know if the answers are in those files without revealing to the other players what you're asking about (or who.)]

[Jack Grey]

[vidar]