After they returned from St. Petersberg, Connor and Ayden got back to their "normal" lives. Ayden let her place go and moved in. She still was working at the restaurant, but she had already stopped going to school. Her schedule could be more normal and they could spend more time together. Connor set about tracking down where Michael Vellas lived. It didn't take long. Getting his number was a bit harder, but Connor had learned a few tricks over the years for ferreting out information he wanted.

Once he had the number, Connor....did nothing. The magnitude of what they were talking about was a bit overwhelming. Assuming the kid could find a place for her, he was worried about what that meant. Would she go back to what she'd been doing? Even for the military, he didn't like it. She hadn't become hard yet. But he had to believe that she would. If she became a mother what did that mean?

Then a thought occurred to him. Her abilities made her far more valuable than simply as a sniper. If they did take her, very likely she'd be doing something else. Something much more important. And much more dangerous. But if she just hid, ran, then the Atharim might get her still. They had clearly been doing what they had for a long time. And they were good at being sneaky, at tracking.

It had only been luck that the man in the park missed them. He shook his head angrily. Not lucky for that kid. Or his mom and dad. Anger churned in his heart. They had done this to them, had intruded into their lives, had made them a target. Connor and Ayden had asked for none of this.

He picked up his phone and dialed Vellas.

<small>[[continued from In the heat of the...//tunnel]]</small>


Ivan sat down on his couch to put on his black thick soled boots. His leg still ached from the night before. He shook his head at the memory of that thing. The pants were ruined- claws from a big bear monster or whatever tended to have that effect on them- and he'd thrown them away. But he woulda done so anyway, what with all that funky juiciness from the things head that had dripped all over them. And the smell...He wasn't sure he'd have wanted to wear them again anyway.

He laughed to himself. The doctors at the hospital had wanted to know what kind of animal had done that so he'd made an excuse. No sense in broadcasting to the world about what was living underground. But the cute nurse cleaned him up pretty well, though the stuff she used to disinfect them or whatever was probably sitting around from an old Soviet experiment from a hundred years ago. He'd groaned through gritted teeth. "Damn it, woman! Did I stand you up on a date or something? Jeeze get a saw or something and just cut it off!"
She'd rolled her eyes at him, laughing. Hey, she was a cutey. He laughed too. When she was done the pain subsided. The gashes weren't deep and only took a few stitches.

Fucking monsters. In a few days he'd be down there again to meet Xena and go hunting. He chuckled at the thought of her. She was a touchy one. He wondered if she'd wear those snake-contacts again. Probably, what with all the cray-cray. But she seemed tough anyway and she knew the tunnels. Still, he'd think of something to tease her about. She needed to be taken down a peg or three. Not that he'd say that to her, of course. He shook his head. People didn't appreciate how well he did at not saying the things that popped into his head. Impulsive. Never!

When he was done, he stood up and put his wallet and keys in his pocket. He just had on a pair of blue jeans, the black boots, and a casual white button down. He got his jacket- a black button up long sleeve with a bunch of pockets and those purely decorative straps at the shoulder that served absolutely no purpose whatsoever except that they looked pretty damn cool- and headed out the door, leg only slightly twinging at walking.

He was looking forward to seeing Zoya today.


Edited by Ivan Sarkozy, Sep 7 2014, 09:36 AM.

The night after Pyotr had met Jensen had been as bad as he had thought it would be. He had to deal with the sickness and spent more time throwing up than anything else. He wasn't aware that the sickness had been driven from him, and the only reason he got sick was because he was anxious about getting sick. He didn't think much about how the whole ordeal with sit with Marcus.

Now that he had fought the sickness away, Pyotr had time to think about it, and Marcus wouldn't be very happy with him. He wanted him to keep his abilities secret, but now two other people knew what he could do. It was that damn block. Why couldn't it be something simple like he could only use his Luck when he was happy or something? Why did it have to be unpleasant?

He was back at work waiting tables. It looked as if there were some high class people there and it gave Pyotr an idea. Maybe he could find out some information for Marcus. He could use his position to spy on people, but most of the time, people quieted as he approached their table. He would have to try to listen the way Marcus listened. He would have to use his Luck again, but that meant he'd have to embarrass himself. Pyotr sighed as he finished get dressed in his work uniform. He had a feeling this would be a bad day.


Edited by Pyotr Grigory, Sep 4 2014, 12:29 PM.

The moon grew great and small many times before Silas returned to the stone roads of the two-legged.

He followed the scent of meat. Boiling and bubbling. Harsh and putrefied against the wet snow. But where there was ruined meat, there also would be fresh.

With shaking paws, he fumbled with the round disk in the road until claws pried it from its iron seams.

He thrust his muzzle into the darkness revealed, sniffing at the humidity of the tunnel. Human, foul and wet, but also meat and flame.

He dropped in with a splash, crouched low. Fire flew, paws barely touching the surface of the underground river. He was a black shadow in a blacker tunnel and led only by a pair of golden glowing eyes. His mouth watered as he drew close.

<table><tr>
<td></td>
<td>Press Release

<span style="display:block;text-align:center">From the Consulate of Communications
</span></td>
<td></td>
</tr></table>


For Immediate Release
Contact: Darya Korablina, Press Affairs
dar.korablina@cc.eoa.kremlin.gov or 8-499-451-9781

<span style="display:block;text-align:center">Reports of Supernatural Abilities

<span style="display:block;text-align:right"><small>December 28, 2045</small>

Reports of individuals with supernatural abilities have been spreading since the minor insurrection in Dominance V. At the request of the Execute Office of the Ascendancy, a full inquiry has been made into the validity of those reports. All available footage has been thoroughly looked over and witnesses to those events have been interviewed.

Experts have examined the recordings and have found some evidence of digital manipulation. The largest number of these images and recordings come from nations that are unfriendly with the CCD. The fact is the level of destruction that can be seen in those recordings can be attributed to standard weaponry of the CCD. Actual witnesses on the scene also corroborate those facts.

Such reports appear to be efforts to discredit the CCD military and its power, and to sow unrest in the empire. Operation Jeddah was a clear example of CCD technological superiority and a testament to the bravery and skill of our men and women in uniform and we honor them for their service.

The EOA will continue to monitor the situation, however.

Any further comments or questions can be directed to Darya Korablina, Press Affairs Secretary.

www.cc.eoa.kremlin.gov/pressaffairs
</span>

CLOGWALL: clogwall.com/ccpressaffairs
WHISTLER: whistler.com/@ccpressaffairs





</span>

Is it sad that I think it's cool that we are now 'popular' enough to warrant spam??

Sierra had been in a daze for days. She had lost her best friend and the only thing on her mind was what to do about it. She had no family in Moscow, the wolves in the distance only made her sad. Sierra thought about going home to see her parents. But even that thought made Sierra sad. She really didn't want to do anything. Even her passion for photography was waning. Everything seemed darker with out Snow.

She missed the way he would nuzzle her awake in the morning. The way Snow always sent her messages that were fully appropriate for a wolf, but made Sierra blush. She missed everything about Snow. He'd been with her a very long time. He was family!

Sierra decided she'd wander the wilderness for a while. She wanted to be away from people, away from their treachery. She disliked humanity! There was no balance in the world of humans. It was better to live in the hole in the ground bunker her father had built than to live among men.

She took her things, her bow, her camera. Always her camera. She took only the barest of necessities. But that was all she really owned anyway. Sierra told her land lord she was leaving and he could rent the place again. She wasn't expecting to be back soon.

Sierra set off to the outside world. Leaving Moscow behind, leaving humanity behind.


Edited by Sierra, Aug 26 2014, 01:55 PM.

There were several things that made Alex's job actually fun for her. She enjoyed the analysis and the interviews, but criminal minds were hard to take all the time. Since she had started her studies in the field Alex had volunteered at a local free clinic, offering free help to those who really couldn't afford a real help.

Alex had found a reputable location near The Guardian. It was a quaint office, she shared her space with a few other specialists. But they had a comfortable room they used for discussing various things with patients. It wasn't quite as comfortable as she'd have liked but it would do.

Today she'd only been able to see one client. He was a regular, he suffered from OCD and kept to a very specific schedule. He was the only one Alex was able to see before she headed into the office to do her real work.

Alex had scheduled a meeting with the Chief Inspector. She had a bit to discuss with him, and hoped that he would understand what she was offering him. He believed that these gifted souls could be dangerous, Alex could tell by the way he had handled Mr. Gregory. There were bound to be more in Moscow, she hoped to offer him some advantage.

She was a bit early to their arranged meeting time, Alex fixed a cup of coffee for her and the Chief Inspector. She didn't know what he took, she added a few packets of sugar and some creamer to the plate that held his cup. She took hers black. Alex waited outside his office sipping at her horrible cup of hot coffee.

Greetings, all!

I was instructed by Ascendancy to post any lore that I put together about the dreyken society. That is what this thread will be used for, and I hope its disseminated to all the appropriate places around the website. Anything posted here has been approved a priori by Ascendancy.

--Enzo

A rape victim was rescued recently, the circumstances of her rescue, however, are considered unknown.

The reporting ambulance driver has said that he found the victim propped up against his ambulance and as he drove away, he heard a wolf howl.

"I was at my ambulance and heard a sound from the other side. I went to investigate and the woman was there. My partner and I loaded her into the ambulance and as we took off, I heard a wolf howl. I swear. It was close."


This seemingly unusual circumstance is augmented by the victims own statement.

"He was there and then another man grabbed him. I could hear him growling. I couldn't see his face, but his eyes glowed yellow. The man with yellow eyes saved me."


The police located the rapist, who admitted to the crime, in the victim's neighborhood. He had been beaten and sustained many injuries. A note was attached to his clothing proclaiming "I am a rapist. I've harmed your wives, daughters, sisters, and friends. Do with me as you will."

The police are attributing this to an act of a vigilante that people are calling "the Wolfman."

When asked about the situation a CDPS responded: "The term 'hero' has been used too often with vigilantes. Why does a man save someone, then flee the scene? Since when is it heroic to beat a man, even one guilty of a terrible crime, then leave him to die on the street? A hero puts them self at risk to help others, but what sort of person flees from the police after doing something that so many would seem to call heroic? The police cannot be everywhere at once, and there are crimes that transpire that we cannot stop, we rely on you, the people. Not to take justice into your own hands. Justice is not breaking a rapist's ribs and leaving him to bleed to death on the street. We rely on you the people to watch out for each other, to protect each other, and to help us help you. Vigilantes risk not only their own lives, but those of others. Of the victim they have leapt in to save. Of innocent bystanders who may be caught up in the violence. Of their own families and loved ones. Vigilantes do not have the training or resources of the CDPS. They are not held to the checks and balances that keep the CDPS in line with the core beliefs and values of the people of the CCD. They believe themselves outside the system, above the laws, justified by their own goals and beliefs, and it is only a matter of time before they take life and death into their own hands."


The police would like to remind people that if they see a crime taking place to contact the authorities right away.

Comments are open

((Police quote provided by NumberTwo))


Edited by Calvin, Aug 19 2014, 11:48 PM.