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About Trigger2Red

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  1. The "problem solvers" referred to a previous post where two characters said they could go ahead and solve problems and build up a reputation for our little group.
  2. Things were happening, and the bard was intrigued. But no matter. It appeared as though June had judged too early the positions and abilities of everyone else. A reformulated plan was required. "I should apologize to everyone. I believe I had made incorrect assumptions about your individual abilities. I believe my plan needs a makeover. But," June paused, reshaping her tone to a more friendly one and looking squarely at the one who had introduced himself as Travis Hunter, "I agree with what the Kenra stated earlier and what you have agreed with, and what the Queen ultimately mentioned. Time is of the utmost essence. So, here's my revised proposal. If anyone has any objections to my new plan, we can walk and talk." She would step quickly towards the exit, stopping right at the edge, and turning around to face the group again. "First, I vote for the suggestion of the resident Problem Solvers. They go first. If they are let in through the main entrance, then the rest of us will approach the main entrance under the guise of a party of 'entertainers' or a similar profession. The two can build up a reputation for us. If the Problem Solvers are not let in, then me, Travis, and the Kenra can try to enter again under the entertainer profession. The reason why it should only be us three if the Problem Solvers fail to get in is that three is much easier to keep track of than our entire party. It will afford a sense of security to them, and that can help our cause. Depending on who gets in, the strategy changes." June would turn again as though to exit, before pausing as though considering something of great importance, She would turn back to the Queen after a few moments and asking, in a serious tone, "One question, Your Majesty. You've... authorized us to do a lot. But... what would y-you have us do... if events play out such that there is no reachable solution?" A legitimate question, but a hard one for June to ask. She had been through a lot, but "a lot" was never "everything". While addressing the Queen, her voice, normally so calm and composed, would crack. Because June Vox knew that "no reachable solution" invariably meant either genocide or war. And June Vox would wait for the others to respond either by following her lead to the exit, and for the Queen to respond to her inquiry.
  3. I'm writing the post right now. I'll have it up very soon.
  4. I think that every three days or so I'll continue my solo adventures until we eventually meet up.
  5. It was a nice day, and Amon was enjoying the date very much. The two of them continued to talk throughout the evening, enjoying the food and each other's presence. Amon and Mia. And frankly, Amon had never felt so close to anyone in his life. It was a great day for the two of them. But he knew that the peace wouldn't last. And neither did she. He vanished on the day of reckoning. Nowhere to be found. Like he and his clan had just...vanished. Like the night that was their namesake. About two months later, Mia would receive a letter from an anonymous source. The contents of the letter would contain a single rose petal and a handwritten note. The note read: "I'm alright. Kind of. See, the war is over now. But there were huge costs on both sides of the spectrum. To me as well. But enough about me. I hope you're alright. You've changed my life. I cannot express how much the time I spent with you has impacted me. Thank you, Mia." The signature of Amon, underneath the note, was signed in red. The note also enclosed a picture of Amon sitting in a hospital bed, surrounded by monitors and devices of all kinds, an I.V. running into his left arm, the only other part of his body other than his face visible. In the picture, he was looking out of a window. The window showed only white on the other side. On the back of the picture was another note: "It's likely I'll never see you again. Remember me." The Umbra would continue to collaborate with the Eagles, but Mia would never see Amon in person again. And they all lived happily ever after?
  6. "I wouldn't say that I 'like' my job very much. It's just that I'm good at it. But besides reading, I really enjoy playing music. I tried my hand at guitar, but I couldn't do bar chords. And my voice isn't really cut out for singing. I'm more of a drummer type of guy." As if to demonstrate, Amon pointed at Mia with two fingers, and proceeded to engage in a simple riser drumroll to a kick-step beat, using his two pointer fingers to hit the table and his shoe to tap the ground underneath. "What about you? Besides the books, what else is there to you, Mia?" Amon asked, tilting his head right, making eye contact. (For reference, a riser drumroll is a drumroll of gradually increasing tempo. So, Amon would start with slow beats, and begin to hit the table faster with his index fingers. Then, for the kick-step, he would hit a single pace of about 120 beats per minute, alternating between "soft" finger hits and "hard" fingernail hits.)
  7. (I'm really slacking...) "I don't know... I could never stand the bubbles of carbonated water myself," Amon remarked as Mary returned with the drinks, before waiting to take their order. "Yes, can we get a Boat A, please?" Amon asked Mary, as she waited for their orders, before glancing at Mia to see if she would order that seaweed. After she was done ordering, Mary would inform the two that another server would bring them their order before scurrying off to the front counter. Amon would smile and glance over at Mia, making eye contact, before waiting to see if Mia would say anything.
  8. Jesus Slank that was a fast response. On my end, I might be a bit slow over the next couple of weeks... because finals and tests and stuff. Also... Half past midnight Nuclear? I know I do it too so this is a bit hypocritical... but that ain't healthy mate.
  9. "Yeah... she knows me alright." Amon leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. "September of last year. I get an assignment. The assassination of Eric. Mary used to work for Eric. She... walked in on the assassination attempt, and broke my mask in the struggle. I was forced to knock her out until I had completed my job. That was a sloppy move on my part." He chuckled, and leaned onto the table. "I got a lot of heat for that dumb move. But it was enough. Fast forward to a couple of months ago, when I visited here for a seat and saw her working. Scared the living daylights out of her, that's for sure." Amon, from here, would then cock his head right and look at Mia. "But carbonated water... interesting choice. I could never drink it myself." (Sorry about lateness... life happend)
  10. Oh damn. More people. Great. As June rose and the assembly was dismissed, she sized up the less-than-motley group assembled, starting with Volunteer Number One. Travis Hunter, he called himself. His voice, his footsteps, his breath carried with it confidence. But was it a confidence born out of experience or lack thereof? She would have to find out. Volunteer Numbers two through four had come up in a group. Three who she didn't know the names of. One, female, bouncy and bubbly. Two, male, silent. Three, male, quiet, but loud enough to ask for dues. Interesting. Volunteer Number 5. Syr, he had called himself. There was some sort of aura around his eyes, but she wasn't interested in that. She was more interested in how his calm breath showed almost a disdain for the entire situation. Volunteer number Five was herself. Bard by day, mercenary by night, mage all year long. Volunteer numbers Six and Seven were two brothers. Loud. Obnoxious. June gave them six weeks before they were crippled or dead on a road somewhere. Volunteer number Eight. The Kenra girl. Nervous at first, but easily gained in confidence over time. June liked her. People who grew could go far. And, seeing as the mission was to Kenra land, a Kenra herself was quite valuable. Volunteer Number Nine was the final girl. Breta, she had been called. Nervous, for sure. A fighter, probably not. The way June saw it, Travis, the group of three, Syr, and the two brothers were all fighters. Not a great impression for a diplomacy party. She could play the bard part, and since rumors flew in the taverns where she worked by day, that could be quite invaluable. Music had healing properties. The Kenra girl was the most invaluable. A wise party would do well to protect her. The other girl... June didn't see her use, but she could be of high value as well. It would take some effort to find out. June looked with interest as the man slipped into the shadows. Which didn't matter. She had heard the voice, the breath, the beat of this man, and if she wanted to she could find him easily. But no matter. The Queen was due to speak. The Queen, though. Impressive. Despite June's suspicions of her illness confirmed, her tone remained strong, her meaning clear. Truly a Queen. Or an oily politician. Both possessed the same abilities of persuasion, after all. Tone. Inflection. Posture. Eye movement. Every single motion designed to obtain and keep loyalty. Every second living to earn and retain respect. June, with a sigh, spoke up as Travis looked over to the Kenra, as she remembered her introduction. "She was raised by humans, remember? I doubt she knows who the leader is. I don't doubt that they have one. But, if what the Queen spoke stands true, there is little doubt to me that any sort of Kenra leader will refuse to speak with us so long as they know where we're from. Prejudice, after all, is blind." June, here, paced forward a little bit, stopped, turned, and looked around the group, letting her control freak take the reins. "Here's what I propose. As I am a bard, I will enter any Kenra lands first. They are unlikely to turn away good business. In loud crowds, people tend to say things louder, so I can overhear what people say about the leaders, if any. I can relay that back to you all as needed. If they won't let a simple civilian enter, well, then the likelihood of an entire diplomatic embassy entering is likely to be extremely low. I say 'likely' because I know nothing about the south side of this forest. Are there any objections to what I propose as a start?" June, during this little speech, was confident and calm, letting her experience in front of crowds steer. She looked around the party slowly, as she waited for a response from the motley group assembled. From anyone.
  11. And also... I'm about to grab an LAPV (light-armored personnel vehicle) with a Browning M2HB .50 caliber machine gun mounted to the top. You know... that would be OP if I could get down there... but I really can't.
  12. Considering the situation, the game theory was working out fairly well. Chryse could appreciate that. His eyes narrowed as Capria mentioned her travels. The last time he had the ability to check, Aelindra's economy had been fairly stable, with a tremendous amount of exports due to the wealth of knowledge the city had accumulated. He hadn't had the luxury of calculating their real or nominal GDP, but it was obvious to him that Aelindra City ranked high on the GDP list. It made him wonder how well the fiscal and monetary policies of the government worked, what the inflation rate was, and most importantly, whether there was a bubble in the city. For when a city of that level of prestige had their economic bubble burst, the entire continent's economy would tank, not to mention create an economic crisis for any area trading with Genesaris... which in this day and age was essentially everyone. As she spoke to the awkwardness of the situation, Chryse confirmed his suspicion of how unfamiliar she was with dating. "That makes two of us." Drawing on Killidia's memories, Chryse in all technicality had plenty of experience with dating, but that didn't change the fact that it was still his first personal date. "As a soldier, I have very little experience in relationships, as they tend to come to ends quite abruptly," he said with a slight chuckle, as a waiter scurried his way over to the two of them. "Hello, what may I get you two to drink today?" the waiter asked, bowing slightly, sweat glistening on his forehead. Implying that there was little staff to work the airship. Considering the costs of the airship, a smart business decision. "I'll have a glass of water," Chryse replied, leaning slightly away from the waiter, his eyes roaming him, looking for weapons, skills, signs of attack. His eyes found nothing of significance. "And for the lady?" the waiter asked, turning towards Capria. Chryse could only smile as he waited to see what kind of a drink person Capria was.
  13. Well... I posted.
  14. Well... she ain't moving. That's not good. In that moment, I wonder... should I intimidate her? I mean, I do have the weapon wheel of guns that I pull out of my magic invisible backpack, but... guns. I stand up. "Well, think about it a bit. For your sake, I hope you don't die in this god forsaken place." And as I turn to walk away, I hear loud screams, walls falling, and a crash of red flying through the halls. Didn't expect that today. But those screams... someone's in danger. Damn. I don't want to... but I'm the one with a buttload of guns. And given how cliche this entire scenario was... it was probably a dragon and princess or something like that. Or maybe a snake. A dragon snake. I reach in my pocket for my cell phone... and find the iFruit the game avatar carries around. Fantastic. I can call home! But... fantasy world and space-time continuum and the electromagnetic particle multiverse theory begs to differ. So, praying for the best, I call Merryweather Security as I pull a gold-engraved "heavy" pistol out of my magical backpack. Flicking on the flashlight attachment, I run carefully towards the sounds of screaming that I had heard, when the floor starts shaking. Is this Godzilla? I hope not. But it's moving left, so... "Merryweather security. How can we help you today?" "Yeah, hi, can I get an armored Insurgent with a gun delivered to my location? I have big fish to fry." "Sure. We've delivered the armored vehicle to the nearest location! We hope you have a nice day." And the lady hangs up the phone. Good. Now I have a truck with a gun on it! Where's the map? I have a map? I have a map! Closing my eyes to access the menu, I stop at the first screen, which conveniently reveals not only the location of my armored truck but one blip moving quickly away from me to my left and another two blips off to my northeast somewhere. Cool! Now I know where everyone is! I break for the truck, praying to whatever gods they are that someone is able to effectively kill whatever that red blip is. If not, well, things were going boom. @Caliburnus