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.

The office was dark through the glass paneled walls as Ellie walked down the corridor towards the door. She glanced at her wrist watch. Quarter past eight, hmm, he's late.


Barry, her secretary, a sweet older man of fifty-two, who lived across town in Ealing, usually arrived around eight. She frowned to herself as she balanced her bag and a paper cup of coffee in one hand, and wiggled her keys out of her pocket with the other, and unlocked the front door. She sometimes wondered why he bothered to make the arduous commute across the city every morning, but the old guy never complained of the decrepit tube lines, and was usually on time. Well, almost always. Ellie knew people his age had a hard time finding work, and his story about the loss of his wife six months before, and the desire to do something with his newly found time had struck a deep chord within her, so had happily offered him the position. Their arrangement was working out so far; he was organised where she was not, and that was exactly what she needed to make sure her business didn't fall on its head before it had even taken off.

She glanced at the freshly painted sign on the glass panel in front of her face, as she pushed the office door open. A swell of something akin to pride and regret rose in her, all mixed up in a bitter swirl.

FOWLES PRIVATE DETECTIVE AGENCY


Looks almost too professional,
she thought with a smirk, as she walked into the office space that made up both Barry’s reception desk and a semi-informal waiting area for her clients. She flipped the lights on, passing a quick eye over the room. Everything was as it was when she left it the night before. Barry’s neat and orderly desk covered in plants and succulents of a dozen varieties, the two brown leather couches, or sofas as Barry called them, the water cooler, chrome espresso coffee maker - good coffee was a luxury she couldn’t do without - the tall ferns that stood in each corner, the floor fan positioned in front of the small grimy window, to blow gusts of air around the room in the extreme summer heat that swamped London for months at a time.

Satisfied, she walked through the waiting room to the door of her personal office, twisting the doorknob and gently kicking the door open with a booted foot. She hit the light switch, and again glanced around, making sure nothing was amiss, then hung her bag on a hook by the door. She drained her coffee, and threw the cup in the trash bin next to her desk, then pulled her jacket off, draping it on the back of her chair, and unclipped her gun holster, placing it on her desk.

She walked back out into the waiting room, humming tunelessly to herself, and started to make herself and Barry some fresh coffee. Suddenly a loud bang came from the door, and she started in surprise, simultaneously turning and reaching for her gun. Which of course is on my fucking desk, nice one El
. She snorted in amusement though as she saw Barry, struggling to open the office door with something that looked like a new and rather large potted plant in his hands. She walked over quickly and yanked the door open, raising a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Really, Barry?”
she asked with feigned mockery, in her still strong New York drawl. “More greenery? Damn, it’s gonna be a jungle in here soon.”


Barry looked sheepishly at her though the leaves of the plant held in front of his face. “Sorry I’m late Miss. Fowles. This one is a beauty,”
he said in his clipped Londoner accent, as he held it towards her. “Don’t you agree? I thought she would look splendid on your bookcase.”


She grinned, and shook her head. “Fine, fine, you just go ahead and put it wherever you want. And Barry?”


He stopped enroute to her office, and turned to look at her.

“It’s Ellanor, or Ellie. Please, for the love of the gods, stop calling me by my surname. Its just plain weird.”


He nodded in acquiescence, and she turned back to the coffee maker. Be damned if he is going to listen to me, I have told him a thousand times already.


A little while later, a fresh steaming latte on her desk, laptop open in front of her, Ellie got to work. She had just landed a new case, and was reading through the notes she had taken when she had met with the client, the son of an elderly socialite who lived in an estate in Sussex, and apparently a citizen the Dominance VII Custody, or the shitty and corrupt Met Police, didn’t seem to give a fuck about. Or maybe that they thought she was a crazy old coot, and had chosen to ignore her and her son’s repeated requests for help. Ellie didn’t mind that the Custody and the Met were pretty slack with this sort of thing, to be fair, because it meant all the more work for her.

The son of this woman had shown up at her office two weeks before, informing Ellie that his mother was extremely upset and would be willing to pay her a significant fee if she could solve the case. Along with a very handsome advance, and a promise to double it with the successful capture of the perp. She had whistled to herself internally as she watched him transfer the funds directly into her work account on her laptop, and had pretty much decided to take the job then and there, without even hearing the details of the case.

Perpetrator. Or perpetrators, she supposed, as she read over her notes. The case was all kinds of interesting, but the money made it more so. The poor woman’s precious and expensive horses and breeding dogs were being brutally slaughtered, and her son was at a complete loss to explain it. Probably a gang of local kids, getting wasted and fucking stuff up for kicks.


She gave up reading, and sat back, taking a sip of coffee. Anyway, whatever the case, this advance is a big thing
, she thought. She was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with the work load; cases were coming in thick and fast. To be expected of a city as heavily populated as London, where the Custody gave little care about the lower poor folk trying to live their lives, and the Metropolitan police were a shadow of their former selves. She had told Barry to say yes to pretty much any job that came across his desk, but had approached a cross-roads. She had a choice - start turning down the jobs, or hire an assistant. She hated to say no to people that needed her help, so when this particularly well paying job fell into her lap, the latter seemed like an excellent choice.

Barry had placed an ad in the appropriate enforcement circles, and in the local press, and on notice boards near Met offices the week before. Today was interview day. Of the fifteen that had applied, only two candidates had passed her scrupulous requirements. The first, a guy in his thirties from Birmingham, who had worked as an undercover officer infiltrating some extreme socialist party, and the second was an ex-cop from the Met. The first was her preferred choice; older, more experienced, no doubt good in a tricky situation. The second, a kid really, she had chosen because of his London roots, and of course his experience with policing.

She glanced up from looking at her coffee as she heard the phone ring in Barry’s office, and listened to the man’s english lilt as he answered.

“Hello, you have reached Fowles Private Detective Agency, how may I help you today?...Ah, yes, and how are you?...Oh, oh dear, that is a shame….yes, yes I will inform Miss. Fowles right away...please, yes, you do that...no, anytime will be fine..very well, good bye.”


She sighed as she heard him walk towards her door, and knock gently. “Miss. Fowles? That was one of the interviewees. He won’t be able to make it today, says his mother has taken ill. He was very apologetic, and said he would call to re-arrange the interview.”


Esme tisked. “Goddamit. I bet it was the Birmingham guy, wasn’t it?”
He nodded softly, mouth twisted in regret.

“Fuck,”
she said loudly, then instantly regretted it. “Sorry, sorry, language. Ok, well, unless this Knight kid is a genius or something, or really really amazing, we can get the other guy down as soon as he can make it. Thanks, Barry.”


She glanced at her watch after the man had turned back to his desk. The kid's due in what, thirty minutes? Yep, just enough time to catch up on the news and finish my coffee. Sweet.


Edited by Ellie Fowles, Sep 8 2015, 11:26 PM.

[[ concurrent with Finding Aurora]]

Aria hide the amusement at Ayden's anger the boiled until near bursting. Aria didn't know why she was angry and it didn't really matter and she was playing the red head anger management issued girl to a T. Aria smirked as she left with possessive feelings floating amist the anger. If she only knew that she hid nothing.

Nox's concern was well placed as they headed towards their destination. There was no reason for her to be allowed in the building much less to Master De La Cruz' flat. But it was easy enough to do. Aria let her hair down and revealed a little more cleavage than necessary and tightened her leather coat around her to hid her swords and give her a little more mystery - what was underneath. She'd have opted for something other than her combat boots, but that was what she had. Aria laughed as Nox was at least getting an eye full. He was ever the boy with an eye for the girls.

Aria walked across the street checking the comms before she was at the door man. She smiled sweetly up at him, "I'm here to see Mr. De La Cruz."
Aria laid her hand on the man's ungloved one and Aria saw the moment of doubt flicker through his mind before he opened the door to admit her. Weak willed men were easily manipulated by a pretty face and a gentle touch, and with her gift even more so.

Aria walked in as gracefully as her boots would allow and up to the front desk. The man at the front desk watched her with a wary eye and she let her best smile slide on to her face. What she couldn't give for a little bit of fancy jewelry to add to the air.

The man asked, "Can I help you?"

Aria could feel that Aurora had been here all bubbling over with joy and fun and not a hint of the sadness at the apartment but her emotions were like flowers to a bee for Aria. She'd started tracking her and now she could find the littlest hint of her emotion as long as it wasn't months old. She'd never tried this after such a long time. "I'm looking for for Mr. De La Cruz."
Also in the lobby she could feel all sorts of excitement from giggling girls - the type of emotions that go with large crowds of fans. It was much the same in Vatican City except it was a bunch of pious idiots there to see the Pope or some other saintly character. "I'm not a fan. I have important business with Mr. De La Cruz."


The man's eyes flickered up and down her almost imperceptibly. It was evident he saw something distasteful and his eyebrow rose skeptically. "Business?" His tone made it clear he didn't believe her. "If you'd like to leave a message for MISTER De La Cruz, I would be willing to pass it along to his assistant."

Aria's smile widened and she reached across the counter and laid her hand on his with a little push in the right direction. "I need to talk to him. Can't you help a gal out?"
Aria hoped she didn't have to push too far, clingy men were annoying.

His eyes widened slightly and seemed to soften. He was an older, grandfatherly type. A small smile played on his lips. "My dear, I think perhaps you would be wise to leave Cruz alone." His tone became more tender. "The ways of men like that are things we must accept. Go home, dear. Let things be."

Well that was nice to know. Aria let her smile brighten and pushed a little harder. "Thank you for your concern."
Aria ran her fingers across the edged of his arm to his cheek. "I can take care of myself. I promise. I need to talk to him, it's important."


His face warmed and the concern left it as a new interpretation force itself into his mind. "An old friend then? I'm sure he will enjoy the surprise." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "He's on the top floor, the penthouse. You should get up there with no problem." He winked at her. "Such a sweet thing. You take care of yourself, dearie."

Aria smiled again and caressed his rough cheek. "Thank you kindly."
Aria made sure to leave a lingering touch so he'd not call up immediately. He was weak but even the weak can fight easier without her touch. Depended on how much he believed her.

Aria headed for the elevators and pushed the button and was on her way up to the penthouse. She wondered what she was going to walk in on. She let her sense drift wide for any signs of Aurora but there was nothing active, only memories.
Edited by Aria, Sep 8 2015, 02:03 PM.

Name: Ellanor Fowles, also known as Ellie or El by her nearest and dearest

Occupation : Private Detective

Height: 5' 7"

Build: Athletic

Appearance: Ellie keeps herself toned and fit, and has long black hair. She is of Puerto Rican, Haitian and Lebanese ancestry. She prefers to wear casual muted garb that gives her the freedom to move quickly and disappear into a crowd; she can usually been seen wearing dark tight jeans, tank tops, a light jacket and Dr. Martens. She wears a Buddhist charm on a chain at all times; a present from her sister who lives in India since the death of their mother 7 years previously. She wears a handgun in a body holster; her preferred weapon is an antique SIG Sauer P226 9mm, lovingly restored with a carbon fibre grip.

Shrewd, sagacious and meticulous in her work, Ellie is highly intelligent with a Bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice from the Greater New York Metropolis University. She is generally reserved and skeptical, preferring to observe situations around her; these attributes make her particularly well suited to surveillance work. She is also somewhat dualistic in that her diligence in her work does not carry through to her personal life, which is chaotic. She is bisexual with a penchant for one night stands, mainly due to her reluctance to settle down after the loss of her fiance.

Ellie grew up in the Bronx in New York with her mom and sister, and developed a deep love for her people and her community. Her desire to protect the most vulnerable from the corruption forced upon them by the most powerful led her to pursue a career as a detective for the NYPD.

A year into the job she found she shared common interests with fellow detective Jamie Hanes, and they became lovers. Their relationship quickly escalated, and they were engaged ten months later.

Several months later. Ellie landed a big case - concerning the body trail of a local mob boss. As she drew closer to closing it, she uncovered evidence of large scale corruption among the ranks of her fellow officers, including that of her fiance. Horrifically torn between the love for Jamie and her morality, Ellie struggled to deal with the situation. Unable to make the decision, she handed the case over to her Superintendent, who swiftly brought an end to the careers of those implicated, leading to the arrest of the mob boss. Jaime was sentenced to prison, and he broke off their engagement. Upon finding out her connection to Jaime, in retaliation, the mob boss ordered his execution while in jail.

Ellie's job was no longer tenable, and her loss drove her to leave New York. She decided that London was far enough away for her purposes, and she used a contact in the DVII Capital Division Custody to network with, ensuring her free passage to set up her own agency.

Ellie is one of two employees at Fowles Detective Agency, based in Angel, Islington, London, where she works along with her secretary, Barry. Most of Ellie's work involves solving small time surveillance and domestic cases, but she works hard to keep herself distracted. She is a rational woman, and although has seen strange things in her line of work, remains skeptical about rumors of the unexplained.

<dl class="c_post-attachment">
<dt>Attached to this post:</dt> <dd> Ellie_Fowles.jpg (31.38 KB)</dd> </dl>
Edited by Ellie Fowles, Sep 7 2015, 07:21 PM.