Aria hadn't left immediately after leaving Nox at the warehouse ruins. It felt odd being without his caustic humor. But she had to do this and he couldn't stop her. If she fell into the darkness then the world would eventually take her out. She'd be on Atharim radar - she already was.

She fought the darkness, the depths of the despair that tugged at her as she looked into the man, Lei Hou - a high end banker that was highly vocal about some of Ascendancy's policies. She didn't need to employ the use of the Atharim resources to get any information on him. He was that high profile.

But Aria did use the Atharim to find his last known location. And after she prepared herself for the journey - a new wardrobe was the top of the list of things to do as well as re-equipping her standard issue items. She was thankful that she had at least one sword, but the new dagger was lost to the rubble and likely confiscated upon it's retrieval if it survived the heat of an Atharim made bomb. They left nothing to chance. She doubted much could survive that explosion.

Flying was not her favorite thing to do. But she booked her plane, and it was relatively painless but still uncomfortable as she flew with a bunch of strangers and no place to go to escape their bombardment of emotions. Thankfully no fearful children or overly anxious persons were on the plane. And thankfully there were no dark thoughts lingering in their thoughts. Aria drowned out the noise with her headset and loud music and before she knew it they were preparing to land.

Everything was going smoothly. Sadly she wasn't getting paid to kill this man, so everything was coming out of what little she saved on her Atharim stipined. She would have to hunt a monster while in China. There had to be something easy to find and give her reason to cross the border of the CCD other than because this is what Lei Hou was. Some Atharim reason anyway.

Aria was grateful for her limited Chinese, very limited but she could mangle her way through finding a shabby little place to stay at. But she was directed to a place much finer than first appearances. English might be the CCD's official language, but here in China, you spoke what the natives did and were lucky if they spoke English.

Inside the little shabby place that wasn't so as bad as it looked from the outside, Aria took a small room that could barely be considered a closet but it would do. Her stomach rumbled and Aria found herself outside her rundown looking room at a tiny little hole in the wall restaurant that the hostel owner claimed was the best food around. Aria could only hope that it passed as edible.

The day was shitty. The afternoon wasn't any better, but Nox was actually looking forward to going hunting. It wasn't a typical hunt. And it wasn't with his typical partner. It hurt that Aria had just left with all the shit that had just happened. Nox tried not to dwell on it. But she had been right not to ask him to come. She was going to assassinate a man because of an order. And then she was going to hunt down Giordano. He should stop her. He knew that. But neither of these kills were about him. You did what your bosses tell you to do. And Atharim law already had Giordano marked for death. Why not his own daughter to kill him. But it still hurt. He was a pile of sorrow and pain.

HQ had been easy enough to find a place to bunk down with. He hadn't' explained what had happened and as soon as he got things situated in his head, he'd find a new place to stay. Or maybe he'd go back to the States for a while. Home sounded real good about now. Not that he had a place to go home to there either. But it was what he was used to.

8PM rolled around and Nox walked his way back to the Red Light District and waited outside what had been his former home. It was still cordoned off and the keep out signs were now plastered everywhere. Eventually they could sift through things.

Nox waited for Ivan to show up. He wasn't exactly friend, but he wasn't exactly foe either. Nox wasn't sure how he was going to do as a so-called teacher, but he could help where he he thought he could. He was hardly an expert on anything.

In the darkness Nox heard a scratching and then soft footstep coming his direction. Nox embraced the power and the world grew clear. The dim light gave way to clarity and he saw the mangy little puppy padding his way towards him. Nox grinned helplessly. The little guy was only slightly worse for wear, his tail was singed and his coat was a dusty grey from all the dirt that had been scattered in the area. "Well look at you. Aren't you a survivor."
The pup yipped at him and jumped up against his leg. Nox knelt down and scratched the little guy's neck. "You need a name if I'm going to keep you."


Nox thought about it. The little guy popped into his live in the middle of a shit storm and survived it with him. He was tough little puppy. "You like Nova."
A nuclear explosion in the sky could only out do the shit storm he'd bee living through. The little guy yipped and licked at Nox and he grinned. He doubted the dog understood what he said but it at least gave him some sense of hope.

Nox stood up and Nova danced around his feet. "I don't have anything to eat right now and we got things to do. You might as well come along and learn what it is we do."

Connor and Ayden didn't say much as they walked away from Nox and Aria. Connor knew Ayden was angry- and in truth he understood it. The Atharim. The familiar anger wanted to well up- anger and loss. If it wasn't for the Atharim, Hayden might have had help, might have survived. Instead, they had created the conditions that directly led to Hayden lying in a bed, writhing in agony until he died. They would have killed him with as little thought as squashing a bug.

He tamped down the anger. He knew where that led to. And Nox was not like the rest. Nor was Aria, despite everything. The magnitude of everything seemed to wash over him. Aurora's death. Ayden and Aria's fight. Nox's pain.

In truth, he was tired. Just so very tired. He just wanted to have peace for a little while. And he wanted Ayden to be at peace. It had been a mistake to inject themselves into their search. It brought too many things up. Ayden was his responsibility now. Her needs came first.

The air was cool but not freezing as they walked through the gentrified neighborhood. Naked trees stood near sidewalks and buildings, the grass beneath them mostly dead with the fading remnants of packed snow-ice- all that was left of the winter. Shops lined the street, the tinkling of bells when doors were open or closed. Despite it not being winter anymore, he felt cold and the smells of pastries and coffee appealed to him.

He stopped, smiling softly at Ayden. "You want to get something to eat? Some coffee?"

The up-armoured Legion SUV departed the Legion HQ, housed in the former Moroccan embassy without much fanfare. Legionnaires were slowly making their way throughout the city, many on foot due to a severe lack of working vehicles, but for the moment at least their sudden flurry of movement seemed to go unnoticed by Wallace-Johnson's soldiers.

The ride was quiet; Jacques' escort consisted of only three Legionnaires. Vanders of course, Lesław, and Bartoš. Lesław was Polish, albeit of rather slight build at first glance and with a list of driving qualifications the length of his somewhat gangly arms. Bartoš, Slovakian, sat shotgun to Lesław with a Benelli shotgun across his lap, the barrel pressed to the door at his side, ready to be lifted to the window, or brought to bear through the door once opened. One finger tapped against the trigger guard, while his other hand held a shell ready to be slipped into the breach once the first round was fired.

The two men in the front seats watched the road ahead intensely, with Lesław watching the traffic around them and Bartoš eyeing the crowds and rooftops as they drove towards the Parliamentary buildings that had been re-purposed into Interim President General Wallace-Johnson's command center.

Jacques' attention was split in a dozen directions, through the HUD of his Landwarrior glasses. Live updates of the movement of the various squads throughout Freetown, an update on the relief convoy's progress towards the city. Position of a Chinese merchant freighter that was scant kilometers off the country's territorial waters on it's way to Morocco. Legal demands by slighted former investors were brushed aside, as well as a 'formal request' for Jacques Danjou to present himself to Moroccan police headquarters in Casablanca in regards to suggestions of bribery,fraud, embezzlement, and a list of other white-collared crimes.

They passed through a series of checkpoints manned by Wallace-Johnson's troops and their 'militia.' The usual scum drawn to the opportunity for personal power and gain, for chances to exact revenge on those that they felt had wronged the in some way. Neighbor turned on neighbor, jilted lovers, jealous fools. The crimes committed under the 'leadership' of Wallace-Johnson were myriad and terrible, and would surely go unnoticed by the world at large. It was Africa, after all.

The final checkpoints around the Parliament included a pair of Rooikat Mk2 IFVs, lines of concertina wire dividing the new government's command center and the public at large.

The intel the Legion had gathered had indicated no more then a platoon-strength guard for the Parliament, but the vehicle-flanked final checkpoint was manned by twenty uniformed soldiers and another two dozen militia. There was limited resistance to the Legion vehicle getting through the checkpoint, but the guards were less then subtle in their comportment. They knew who Jacques was and that their General had summoned him.

The vehicle was waved to a stop in front of the Parliamentary building scant moments after the sharp bark of rifle fire. Two men in suits, some of the few remaining members of the elected parliament, waited to meet them. The two men were studiously ignoring a firing squad was busy loading the bodies of five men into the back of a waiting truck. The men were stripped to their underwear, but still wore undershirts identical to those worn as part of the Sierra Leonean military's uniforms.

The Legion SUV came to a stop, and Jacques stared silently out the bullet proof glass at the firing squad and the bodies they were loading into the truck. It took a moment before one of the bodies were carried to the truck and he could get a look at the dead man's face, and he nodded tiredly.

"Legionnaire Vanders. Lesław. Bartoš. Take the vehicle back to HQ. Commandant Tuff will have further orders. Prepare for follow-on tasks."

Ekene had told her about a basement in seldom use, which seemed as close to privacy as she was likely to find. A flash of ginger streaked down the stairs ahead of her, lost quickly to the gloom clinging in every corner. A light swung overhead, but only highlighted old equipment and filing cabinets. The dust swirled a pattern of recent use, but the room was empty now. Natalie closed the door softly behind her.

The state of the place made her skin itch; it was a dismal sanctuary, except that the solitude was precious for what she intended. Now alone, her eyes stung for a moment before she compartmentalised the feeling, smoothing the expression from her face. A deep breath of dank air, and she turned away from dwelling on the fresh bruises of the past. She could change none of it. But she could be better prepared.

She sat against the stone wall, placed the unlit candle on the floor in front of her, frowning at it. Alvis' old warnings circled like wary predators; the advice that had likely saved her life, but also trapped her now. She'd deliberated this before, but not since leaving England. The answer then had been simple.

If she'd had control, would things at the refinery have gone differently?

Silence permeated, but for the tumbling of the kitten in the shadows. The light in the back of her mind was dim, like a sheet of glass separated her from its warmth. It was joinless, unmarred, impenetrable as it had always been, yet she knew the door existed. And she just had to find it.

Pre companion release they have let us see the chart we based our current system off of. We must have reversed ours.

But I thought you'd all like to see it

http://www.tor.com/2015/10/27/the-wheel-...hannelers/

oops forgot I was logged in as Nox.. oh well.


Edited by Nox, Oct 27 2015, 09:56 AM.

[[ The following three threads all lead to this one:
- Finding Aurora
- Searching for Quary
- Closing the Trap]]

Everyone was a pile of heated emotions. Connor was pissed at her. Ayden was pissed at her. Nox was a chaotic symphony of emotions ranging for anger to sadness. It was a great wonder when Connor took them away from the situation. It was about time they got the hint. Aria had been throwing it at them since she agreed to help Nox. Her warning about getting them into bigger trouble had done nothing to deter them.

Aria turned to Nox and he frowned. "They shouldn't have gotten involved with you."


He growled at her and turned towards the window. He held on to his power and Aria was left alone - well not really alone she was never alone - not really. But alone enough that it hurt knowing he was pissed at her too.

Aria sighed and leaned back against the chair. She whispered "I'm sorry about Aurora."
She put her hand on his leg and they road the train the rest of the way in silence.

It wasn't far and when they got off the train there was a certain amount of chaos that was strange for the stop. Aria could feel more people than usual around. She could feel the chaos above on the street level.

Nox looked at her and she shrugged. She could only tell the chaos above. Something was wrong but beyond that she could do nothing more than speculate. Aria wanted to hurry but really there was only so fast they could move in the throng this size. It was as if every urchin in the Red Light District was fleeing the area.

Did everyone disappear all at once?

I'd just like to say Hi and welcome to the First Age. New blood is always good.

Great to see new bios popping up! Can't wait to see where ya'll go.

Alexander Knight was born in 2022, to Sir Edward Knight, and Caroline Knight, in London. Edward was a famed London banker, a selfish, prideful, but charming man, who had been knighted purely because of his political connection. He managed to cling to some of his wealth and influence when Europe was absorbed into the CCD, giving his family a fairly comfortable life during the recessions.

Alexander never made many friends in his young life. In fact, he was mostly bullied. Instead of lashing back, he quietly accepted the verbal, and later, physical abuse. Instead, he threw himself into his schoolwork, and reading. His father had a very large collection of books, and Alex spent much time in the sanctuary of the local library, away from both the bullies, and his angry, sometimes abusive father. The only time Alex and his father ever got on was when his father would take him out shooting. Knowing the police were failing, and the recession may well equal the end, Edward was determined to teach his son how to defend himself, forcing him to learn how to use the hunting shotguns Edward kept, and also his personal firearm, a custom Colt M1911, one of the Colt Series 20.

Alexander grew, not changing from his introverted self, his father just getting more stressed, and more abusive. Finally, Alex graduated from his 6th form, getting grades good enough to allow him to study Criminology in Oxford. One of his closer friends in secondary school, John, had a long line of police family, and had managed to convince Alex that being a detective would be a good role for him. His father had wanted him to go into politics, but after many arguments, he finally relented.

During his second year, Sir Edward Knight was convicted of fraud and embezzlement, on a scale large enough to lock him away for life. Knowing he would die in jail, he killed himself instead. The family’s funds were immediately taken, mostly everything gone. The long suffering Caroline kept the guns, some books, and enough funds to set herself up in a tiny terraced house, while Alex could search for a job. Alexander was forced to drop out of Oxford, but using his friend’s family, his own father’s connections, and his intelligence and competence, he managed to gain a job as a detective in the Metropolitan Police, earning enough to look after the two of them.

Alexander quickly became disenfranchised with the Metropolitan Police, realising how underfunded, and largely useless it was. Alexander’s quiet enthusiasm earned him respect from the Chief Detective, until, two years into the job, a terrible accident happened on a case.

Alexander and his partner, his friend John, recently joined the service after passing his own University course, had been tracking a drug ring. Finally finding a warehouse where they suspected a lead was, the two detectives realised they had walked into an ambush. In a fairly long firefight, John was eventually killed. Before Alexander was about to die, he, for the first time, and completely unknowingly, channelled. A fire weave hit a gas main, blowing most of the building up. Alex was the only survivor, relatively unscathed.

Everyone, including Alex, was under the impression that something to do with the guns, or an explosive, had set it off. He put the Sickness ten days later down to PTSD over John, and killing what was looking to be around ten gang members. While it was swept under the rug, and the Chief Detective was willing to keep Alex on, Alexander just couldn’t take the guilt of knowing that he caused the death of John, leading him into that trap, and all the people caught in the explosion.

Alex has been doing odd jobs around the city, never staying in one place too long, still wracked by guilt over what happened, and unsure what to do with his life.

Alexander is mentally gifted; intelligent and meticulous, he has a sharp mind, quick to analyse situations. He is also fairly quiet, and softly spoken; in truth, an introvert. However, he can also be fairly quick to anger, and can get passionate then, finally raising his voice. Alex can come across as cold and harsh, but that is merely down to his uncertainty in talking with people he doesn’t know, and to those who are close to him, he is a kind, generous, warmhearted person, rarely holding grudges. He also has a sharp tongue, relying on sarcasm a lot, and rarely slows down for others to catch up, though not maliciously, even if that does add to the rudeness he unknowingly gives off. Alexander has a passion for reading, history, and when he can, shooting.

He is a tall, standing at 6’2”. He keeps fit, mainly through running, and home workouts, and has a toned and lean body. His face is fairly long, with a serious look to it, and a strong, long nose too. His eyes are a light blue that borders on grey, and his hair is a dark brown, longer than average. He keep a small beard, never really going past stubble. Alex is fairly formal in his attire, rarely straying out of shirts, trousers, boots, and some kind of jacket.

Alexander is a Channeller, although he does not know it yet. He has already had his Awakening, but did not realise at the time that it was that. His block is a big one; he can only Channel if his life is in absolute danger, and there is a real possibility of death.