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Oljhin Akusao

Grave Robbing in the Dead of Night

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Nikolai listened to the doc talk about the plan and once he was handed the healing vial he immediately set it back down on the table. This wouldn't work on him. Synthetic flesh and wired bits. As he stood up he heard the remarks and comments of the others before shaking his head. 'This is gonna be messy. I guess none of these morons have been on an actual siege before.' Quietly exiting the tent he looked back at the girl he was partnered with and motioned for her to come with him as he walked a bit away from the others. 

As he spook his voice was finally heard, sounding slightly robotic with a heavy Russian accent. "If you have a gun or a long ranged weapon. Stand behind me." Swiftly he extended one hand and a shield appeared, made from an unknown metal, covering his entire front side with a heavy duty glass slot for him to look through. "I can also get you close enough if you prefer close combat. Or if you need brute force." As he mentioned brute force he walked to a tree and wrapped his arms around it before uprooting, seeming effortlessly, before placing it on the ground lightly. "You look as if you've seen combat so I hope you can find some use for what I can do. I feel the rest would prefer to run around aimlessly slaughtering without much a plan." As he finished up he looked back at the tent, figuring he'd be better off following the doc and his partner in this plan while the fire squad caused chaos.


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Alkha walked outside the tent, arms crossed firmly across her chest. The Malouseum was quite magnificent, and taking it over... Well. It would be fun, she could say that.

The large man was standing in front of her, so she went around him and came up beside the Doc, keeping her eye on the others (Rhen and Nikolai). Out of everyone here, they stood out, and Alkha was still deciding what their intentions were.

She’d say she was deciding if she could trust them, but the answer to that was apparent, all things considered.

@Oljhin Akusao

Edited by Nebula

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Rhenium, like the other members of her family, had a close affiliation with metal; she had studied it extensively and understood its chemical and physical properties on par with a postgraduate, and her genetic gift allowed her to manipulate the wide array of metallic elements with hereditary ease. On her person now, and even coursing through the blood in her veins, were an assortment of metals she had selected for utility in both the general (such as life), and in the specific (such is this job).

More to the point Rhen understood Nikolai to be some hybrid between human and mechanized golem from the moment he stepped into the tent – she could feel the metal run through the whole of his body, in a fashion similar but far from identical to her own. She was careful not to eye him excessively and thus tip her hand, but imagine her pleased surprise to find that the leader of this ragtag outfit was moved by current of synchronicity to pair Rhen with the partner of which she could make the most use.

Perhaps the most surprising fact of the whole thing was how quickly and easily a walk-in was able to join their ranks. Rhen was not one to mind improvisation, a trait which was in high demand in many fields of life and most of all in combat and espionage scenarios, but had she known that ahead of time she would have just done the same, rather than spent the weeks substantiating her false identity.

Nikolai relinquished his healing balm; Rhenium was there to pick it back up and join it to the one vial she had been given. When she heard Chad indicate he wouldn't need it, she was at his side.

"If you're not going to use that thing give it here."

When Nikolai turned to address Rhen, he'd find that the dark-clad woman was no longer among the others, but had quietly slipped to his side; she remained at his side as they moved to as close to a secluded corner as the tent could offer.

"I have a long range weapon."

More accurately said, Rhen was a long-range weapon. On her person were knives, arrows, and ball bearings but no delivery mechanism, because the payloads were metallic and she could eject them with accuracy and force to rival a pistol or bow, and none of the maintenance or weight.

"I like close combat too."

Rhen watched as Nikolai uprooted a tree. The Gaian in her cried out in protest of the needless slaughter of an organism which did nothing but provide oxygen and medicinal phytochemicals, but she let being impressed at the man-thing's physical strength overshadow that.

"My only real concern here is that because we're at the tail-end they're likely to forget about us when it comes to divvying up the loot. Depending on how things get on we may want to step to the side a bit, and see what's up for grabs ourselves, instead of waiting for it to get handed to us."

Those were Rhen's last words before the group mobilized to breach the Mausoleum's perimeter.

@SteamWarden @Monoxide

Some housekeeping items

1) Rhen will indicate her call sign is Wren, like the bird

2) Rhen has 2 healing vials thanks to Nikolai and maybe 3 depending on Chad's response

Edited by supernal

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… it’s not like they could tell him no. No one ever told him no.

“No,” said Merideth, the receptionist, pushing her purple horn-rimmed glasses up with a pencil eraser. “We don’t take walk-ins.”

Merideth had a swath of grey locks piled on her head that it took looking twice at to confirm wasn’t still packed with curlers. Her face tapered down to her chin, both draped with amphibious green skin, and her pencil-thin hands flitted through the papers before her with minds of their own as she looked unaffectedly up at the suspect doctor. While nothing was like, code-red level suspect in times like these, this guy coming in and asking for a job was like green/yellow-level suspect. Her gaze told him she thought he was either Dr. House from ‘House’ suspect or Dr. Nick from ‘Simpsons’ suspect. After a short pause where she leaned her fat chin folds on the pencil eraser and appraised Farkis (yes, she even leaned forward to catch the waist-down over the reception desk), or maybe even a good argument on Farkis’ part, she seemed to reconsider just a little.

“We’re very busy,” she said, gesturing to the stuffed sardine can of a waiting room. The chairs were packed and the wallflowers were out; it was a purgatory of musical chairs and the music never ended. The music? Kids crying, men and women moaning over a chorus of squeaky wheels and the aluminum joints on the stretchers clattering by. The cigarette-stained voice croaking through the fat lady’s tiredly painted lips was barely audible above the din. Nearby, a guy mopping the floor paused to look up at the interaction before going back to his puddle next to the fire engine ‘Wet Floor’ sign.

“But I can page up to him if you’ll take a seat. Might be a while,” taunted her voice. She looked and sounded like a Selma.

Sir, got a funny guy here says he wants to be a doctor.
‘Like, he came to the front desk?’
‘A-alright, have Regius bring him up.’

Merideth pressed a button three down the line on the same receiver. This crystal led to a security room somewhere near the reception room.

“Wait 20 minutes and then come on over,” said a text message to the security room’s comm screen. The reason this wasn’t audible was that, often times, messages to the security room had to be private.

Twenty minutes later, One of three hulking figures sitting before fizzling screens that watched the perimeter of the hotel as well as the main lobby in, elevators and stairways leading to every floor rose from his chair and exited the security room. The others watched as a line of injured people filed in the front door. There were clandestine attacks and then there were ambushes that took place in the bare daylight; this was somewhere in between. There was most likely, if hopefully for the Mausoleum, a difference between the hobbling order of patients and what would come next that would be hard to miss.

Regius rounded a corner to see Farkis. Regius was ‘7, also wearing a janitorial outfit but without any janitorial effects. His black hair looked wet, matted to his slack white face. His hairy knuckles were curled in his back hunched in a similarly dumb manner. His beady eyes focused on Farkis as he slowed before the motion-sensor doors. There was an ‘in’ door and an ‘out’ door, the ‘out’ door dinging open as he slowed before it and the line of distraught patients parted around him like a rock in the stream when he came to stop before them. He jerked his head back the other way so the sycophant would have to walk through the sickies and sick-os to follow.

A couple minutes later Farkis was being ushered into Mans’s door past a plaque on the wall that said “Dr. Mans Reyder, Resident Physician; Hospital Administrator." The balls were still bouncing against one another as they had been from the moment Mans pinched and released the first. Speaking of ‘pinching and releasing,’ he was just coming out of the restroom in the short hallway between his office and his hovel when the two walked in. Regius closed the door and stood on the inside, doctors and nurses visible passing by through the rectangular door window’s slatted blinds.

Mans wiped his eyes as he sat at his desk, speaking before he even looked at Farkis. The office was grey, and Mans’s was the only swivel chair. The two maroon ones before his desk looked like the kind that might be comfortable for a couple minutes, but in whose cushions would settle into the wireframes after not long and have you squirming for comfort.

“So you wanna be a doctor, hey? I must say this is quite odd; normally we don’t take walk-ins. We’re in a weird place though, so I suppose weird things may happen. What makes you think you could help us here? Got any references?”

Mans looked either too tired, too busy, too drunk, or maybe all three to mind the oddity of the situation. Regius’ hands were folded before him and he looked unwaveringly down his stupid button nose at Farkis.

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Vito eagerly listened to the plan, examining the layout of the building. However, he found feeling uneasy towards the end. Whilst there was some logic behind it, walking through the front doors like some thug in Last Chance was not his idea of fun. Vito was all about hit and run tactics, up close and personal was another story. But a raid was a raid and pay was pay, not much of a reason to complain.

'I'd much prefer to smash my way in through the roof, but fuck it. I just hope everyone is not underestimating the enemies.'

He was then presented with balm, apparently having properties similar to that of pure Phoenix tears. Opening the case, he smelled the balm. A unique smell, one that the raider could not connect to anything else. Resealing the case and tucking it into cloak, he proceeded to follow the others outside. The crew began making there way towards the building. Jumping on his mount, Vito began to follow Doc whilst pondering the best way to go about things. He couldn't use Floki to the fullest extent, as his venom would kill most people. Whilst he will not allow harm to come to him or his team, civilian deaths is something the raider did not want. He'd have to use it for intimidation purposes for anything other than guards, something that always helped to keep his kill count down.

"Hey, Doc. How're we dealing with civilians? I don't mind killing, but I hope you're not planning on causing to much harm in that regards.

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To keep his "pride" intact, Chad willingly gave Rhen his healing vial without much thought before the group split off.  What could possibly go wrong?  A multitude of things, actually, but he wasn't worried.


 "You all better have at least decent eyesight, because things are going to be getting.........dark." he murmured ominously.  Without caring to explain himself further, Chad began marching very quickly to the front entrance of The Mausoleum.  He plopped down right next to the door, and began to wait for the others, rather impatiently.


Edited by Monoxide

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"-falls out of line or gets in my way, I don't plan on eating him, but there are p l e n t y  of other tortures I can give.  I don't intend on wasting my time and losing my reward just 'cause some imbecile sabotaged the mission."

“Oh, You wound me.” He said Feigning pain but honestly understood the man’s plight. “Trust me, I don’t plan on ruining this mission, Why get in a way of a good time, just make sure you guys keep whoever comes near me off my stage…I can’t put on a show if I don’t have space.” Leon unstrapped his guitar case and opened the latches. If everyone was showing off their weapons, why doesn’t he show off his own?

It was an odd beast, it was clearly a guitar, but it was stripped. The Body was clearly replaced with a head of a single edged ax, only the neck and a metallic tube making it even remotely close to a guitar. He threw the case away and slung the guitar over his shoulders. “Now then, I think I’ll be staying back, I need room to…Work my magic.” He followed the others but made sure to keep his distance as promised. Hearing the others speak about the strategy he wasn’t sure he should actually interfere, He wasn’t exactly trusted well, but his experience at least should’ve meant something if they actually knew it. One part seemed to be talking about their cut which was something that Leon thought about. He didn't really need the money right now, and again, he wasn't here for it anyway so.

"Hey, No need to split with me, I have no interest with...whatever is in there, just wanna see what I can see."

"You all better have at least decent eyesight, because things are going to be getting.........dark."

Once he spoke he at least needed to make something known.

“I Think I should be fine, My kind can see in the dark after all…if needed I think I can let you know if anyone is hiding about in the dark…if it helps any.”




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Gabriel listened to the man who he identified as the Doc and he spoke of several things. The first item he mentioned was no names, only identifiers. Which was a confusing idea to Gabriel, since he understood that names already were identifiers. But he figured that some people would wish not to be traced back to their true identifier, their true name. This was a good idea, and Gabriel decided a good identifier for him would be Mahogany, because that was the exact shade of his hair. 

The second item brought up in the briefing was a quick run-down of the Mausoleum, and this operation. He pointed out everything that could be gathered by inspecting the exterior of the hospital, but little to no data from the interior and what awaited them. He then spoke of how the call to this project was sent to select individuals who would allow for the most efficient operation. This was a particularly interesting comment to Gabriel, seeing as he had not met many people yet since he had been created. It was curious that he received this message. Either someone had been watching him, and knew of his capabilities as an artificial intelligence, or he intercepted a message meant for someone else. He was going to try and figure out the probability of both, but instead chose to believe that he was the one chosen, as it made him feel better.

Third. There was an interruption from an outsider that they called a bard. He was an interesting and carefree individual, and they practically forced him onto the job. This caused Gabriel to rethink the statement of saying they were all selected carefully. Once he did, he made the decision that the Doctor was in fact lying. The truth was probably that he wanted individuals that were capable, just as much as they were expendable. So, half true. Now Gabriel thought, are all Doctors liars? Or just half-liars? Or was it this specific man. A test would need to be conducted, since two is a coincidence and three is a pattern. More doctors must be question, but for now, Gabriel wouldn't trust them. He manually uploaded this conclusion to collective database of Victory AIs.

Then, Gabriel was actually spoken to. He was told that if assailants would come and attack stronger than anticipated that he would help fend them off. This scared, yet excited Gabriel. He was scared of potential damage to his body, but excited to be helping with the cause of retaking the hospital for the good of the land with his fellow warriors. His team would consist of himself, the Bard, the talkative guy, the person in the suit, and the person wearing a mask. What an interesting bunch, Gabriel thought.

Next, everyone was handed vials of a healing concoction. The Doc then harmed himself quite badly, to which Gabriel was shocked and about to perform first aid on the man. Then he healed himself with the vial of liquid, which Gabriel now knew was being used in this as a demonstration. The look of panic would now disappear from his face. He noticed that several of the others seemed to be trading their vials to each other, but not receiving anything in return. Either stupidity, or generosity Gabriel suspected. 

Unexpectedly, there was then an announcement of payment! This excited Gabriel, as he could use it to buy many new things once he found his way back to a suitable town. It was said that half of the money from the rich people would be split between all those assisting in the project. This would be the first time Gabriel ever received payment for a job, as he wasn't great in his previous workplaces. And paid for saving a hospital was the most noble thing he could be payed for. Wonderful!

Twelve minutes was the last announcement. So, Gabriel began to time twelve minutes exactly, and would head out once that was done, or before then if a group member of his would leave the tent. One of the individuals caught Gabriel off guard by doing what he could only describe as 'throwing a bit of a fit', and leaving on his own to apply for a position at the hospital that was about to be liberated. Now, Gabriel was under the assumption that the evil-doers within the hospital would likely cause trouble and danger, and the rest of the workers would be taken away or dealt with. SO, it would make more sense to help liberate the establishment, rather than go join it, only to possibly be attacked by this group. Gabriel then marked this man as: Ignoramus, as he seemed to lack basic thought processing skills. So, Doctors are liars, and Large men are unintelligent was what he was receiving from these people. Great data for his collective! He kept all of his thoughts from this tent stored, and ready to upload.

There were a few small exchanges happening, one man asking The Doc another question, but then Gabriel noticed one of his team members rush to the Mausoleum. So Gabriel naturally did a swift jog right after him. "Hello. I'm also part of the fire-team like you." Gabriel whispered as he crouched next to Chad at the hospital's entrance. "The Doc said only identifiers, so you can call me Mahogany, as it is the color of my hair. What is your identifier? It would be pertinent information to have before we liberate this establishment."


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Only two crouched at the entrance of The Mausoleum, and Chad was getting tired of waiting.  He noted that the bard prefered to watch from afar, so Chad figured he wouldn't be helping much.  However, he did seem to have at least one ally with him at the moment, with hopefully that suited man in tow.  As that particularly curious group member jogged up to him, Chad ran his hand through his hair.  

Finally.  Now we can get this party started.

The man, introducing himself as Mahogany, seemed like an intelligent type.  He decided to ignore that for the moment, but stayed wary.  Intelligent people, from his experience, backstab in the cleverest of ways.  Mahogany seemed like a decent person anyway, and had proved a good point.  Pondering what to identify himself as, he sheathed his best weapon, a blade the color of the night sky.  It struck him with inspiration.

"It is true that the Doc had requesed that we not share our real names.  I don't have a problem with others knowing my true name, but if it benefits you, call me Midnight."  Chad coughed into his coat sleeve.  He was sick of waiting around.

How would they go about entering the mammoth of a hospital?  In past raids, he had entered in a variety of ways.  He mostly came barreling through swords blazing, but if the situation called for it, he could enter while incognito, in disguise, stealthily, and once he had even faked his own death to enter a crematory.  That last case proved particularly useful, in fact, for it's a lot easier to thieve when you're thought to be dead.  He didn't see much point proceeding into The Mausoleum with much caution.  Who'd expect a raid on a hospital?

"I'm going in.  You can follow me if you want, and your aid would be useful, but I'm starting the raid with or without you.  What exactly do you do, anyway?"  He then shook his head, and waved his hand to cancel his words.  "We don't have time for any more blabber.  We can gauge our chances inside the hospital.  Now, without further ado-"  Chad raised a leg, and with a calculated thust he had used many times before, swiftly kicked straight into the right door of The Mausoleum.  It was sent flying straight off its hinges, right towards the front desk. 

He stormed into The Mausoleum, dragging his sword along the floor, and proceeded to give the innocent a chance to leave.  "Ha!  This place is mi--I mean, ours for  the taking.  You can try and fight, but I'll annihalate you without a doubt.  If you stand in my way, you die."  He glanced over at Mahogany, smirking slyly.  "Anything to add?"


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Rhen nodded a wordless thanks to Chad when he released his healing vial into her possession. He said something with little context but Rhen knew enough about phonetic emphasis and cryptic undertones to react.

"What? What do you mean dark?" Chad was already a short distance away. Rhen cupped her hands around her mouth for amplification's sake. "What's that mean? Are you some kind of umbramancer? Are you the kind that gets weaker or stronger from light? Hey! I'm talking to you!"

And he was gone.

She looked from the eponymous bard to Nikolai, then to the rest of the still advancing group. What little organization had existed at the start was quickly dissolving. Perhaps this was all part of the Doctor's plan. Throw strong and chaotic bodies at one side of the establishment and infiltrate from the other, shock and awe tactics to obfuscate his actual intent, his actual objectives.

None of that mattered to Rhen. She had her own agenda.

She entered just behind Chad and put a play on for all the world to see. With refined expertise she contorted her face into authentic expressions of surprise, of fear, as Chad drew eyes and gasps with his sword and his boisterous proclamation.

When people started whispering and aggregating, Rhen insinuated herself into the crowd, allowing her face to vanish by degrees behind the screen of other people's faces. She thus made her way from the main entrance and through the waiting room in search of an information kiosk or the central nurse station. The place where patients would go to know which floor housed which wings and offered which services, or where nurses would go for payroll records and organizational charts. Her current aim was two-fold: 1) locate a radio, so she could listen in on any communications, no doubt riddled with urgent messages about the swordsman on the first floor, and 2) find the administration office. They had papers she wanted to put eyes on.

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“No?” Farkis’ face scrunches, the word leaving an awful taste in his mouth. “How strange.” He half rotates while sweeping his hand out to gesture to the crowd. “Seems to me you’re short staffed. And seeing as you guys just appeared out of nowhere, I can’t imagine you have the proper infrastructure to recruit new doctors.” He pauses long enough to look back at her. “I for one haven’t seen any listings for your hospital, before, so unless someone just walks in to ask for an interview, how do you ever plan to bring in new doctors?” It was a fair question, as far as he is concerned, never mind that it’s completely baseless. Never mind that up until a few minutes ago he’d never heard of the Mausoleum, or could even imagine that there is an occupation called a doctor. He is completely incapable of telling what their network of recruiters looks like, or what kind of infrastructure they have. However, gambles are gambles for a reason.

Perhaps it is his retort that wins the day, or maybe it’s just dumb luck. However, the titan is met with appeasement… which only further solidifies that no one actually tells him no. Regardless, he finds himself sitting in a chair, silently waiting.

“Oh…. Hmm. That’s a thing.” There is a sudden realization, one with implications for his future prospects. If they carry out the raid, how would he be able to play doctor? The solution, of course, is simpler than the question. Obviously, they couldn’t be allowed to carry out the attack. Ordinarily, he’d just walk back to the camp and eat their faces. But, if he left he might miss his interview. His lips purse, his forehead wrinkles, and his brows furrow.

“Snake heads, cut them off.” The words are murmured as his visage relaxes and his mind begins to wander.

His thoughts echo through the air, sweep out along the floor, and flow toward the tent like an autumn’s breeze. Tendrils of mental essence slither past the flaps before winding their way up the good Doctor’s leg.


Drowsiness comes out of nowhere, the compulsion to close his eyes overwhelming. The Doctor drifts off, standing in place. @Oljhin Akusao

Farkis’ eyes open to see a giant oaf looming over him. His gaze breaks so that he can steal a glimpse of the name tag, before he finally offers up a smile. “Hi Regius, how are you today?” His attempt at small talk is met with silence. “One of those days huh? I know the feeling.” The comment is offered up as Farkis rises from his seat and follows suit.

Moments of aimless following eventually see the titan ushered into an office. Although in most instances, impulse would see to him taking the swivel chair for himself, the role that he is playing requires otherwise. Instead he walks behind one of the maroon chairs and rests his hands on the back.

“Be a doctor?” His head shakes with disagreement. “I think you misunderstand. I am a doctor. I would like to be a doctor here. If I wasn’t a doctor, I wouldn’t be here, I’d be at medical school.” Admittedly, he wanted to say doctor school, however, he has acquired just enough knowledge to know better.

“Anyway, I do have references, none that you can get in touch with, unfortunately. The small practice that I had initially joined no longer exists. Two of the doctors are in jail. They were getting kickbacks for recommending unnecessary medical procedures. The other took her life because of a malpractice suit.” Although he mimics, what he assumes to be correct, changes in pitch to convey various emotions, his face is utterly bored. “Anyway, I specialized in therapeutic psychokinetic surgery.” His left hand rises up, causing a pen on the table to float up with it. “I’ve found that the best way to treat post traumatic stress disorder, is to cut away the bad memories. Sometimes, it also helps to cut out a tumor. I can do both, rather well. A little neuroscience coupled with a little psychiatry. I’m one of a kind really.” His left hand lowers, causing the pen to drift back to the desk. “Believe it or not, I was actually passing through Last Chance and only stopped here on a whim. I was thinking about going to Casper to work in one of the hospitals there. But Last Chance is so much more exciting, don’t you think?” @amenities

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Farkis’s logic was, while on its way to off-the-cuff, reliant on reasons Mans had originally ruled out until the hospital could gather its bearings in this new location and situation, right down Meredith’s alley. Meredith was the prime arguer of a new hire for Mans, so eventually of course she would admit him. She nodded along to the needing interviews part, having some time ago resolved herself on two issues. 1) Looking at the full waiting room and line out the door to which Farkis gestured, it was clear that the Mausoleum needed more practitioners. 2) Denying someone who wanted to come help people— after all, a doctor as defined by the Mausoleum is somebody who practices medicine with the goal of saving lives— was way above her paygrade.

So it was that the titan gave a greeting to his unlikely friend Regius. Surprisingly, though there was silence, an amiable grin broke the facade that seemed a second ago frozen mean, settled surley, resting in the bitch-face position if you will. Whether the big man in the baggy jumpsuit was too simple to convey anything beneath the smile or smart enough not to, it would appear he simply enjoyed the recognition. 

While the potential new employee spoke, Mans waited patiently with his hands folded, the same impairment-instilled unaffectedness on his face as before. Whatever impairment it was, one thing was visibly evident: it was a long-suffered ailment and he was what one would consider a “functional-”whatever he was. Now, instead of standing as if he were an impenetrable and personality-less sentinel, his lips were noticeably less set in the downward position, his eyes a little more alive; his brain coursing with thought.

“Listen, Dr. Marisante.” Mans began by raising his hands, palms between him and the hovering utensil. He looked a little more threatened than impressed. Regius didn’t move, but his eyes followed the object. “You really do sound and look like one of a kind… See, we’re owned by a company who’s supposed to clear decisions like new doctors for our budget. Ever since the location change, most of us have hardly even stepped off the premises. We’ve had to secure new supply lines from nearby villages and frankly we’ve seen a drop in the quality of our products, at least until we secure better connections and wider resource commute. Worse than all that, we’ve basically lost communications with our bosses. Without them we have a budget surplus, so after having re-established clientele here I think… I think we have a special situation where I may be able to bring you in.”

Mans shifted back in his chair; as long as the floating object remained between him and Farkis, his frightened hands hung in the air.

“But I need to confirm that you are as capable as you say you are. Will you—”

“Sir,” interrupted Regius, putting his finger on a receiver in his ear. “There’s a rider on a drake approaching the building. A group in front of him just ran through the entrance, and one of them is carrying a sword. Judging by a couple others who ran up outside, there are up to ten assailants. It's hard to tell in the disorganization they're stirring up." 

Regius spoke a moment after the two figures in the security room observed several people enter the hospital unheeding to the line of the ailing. Following the view from the outer camera to the inner camera as chaos ensued, one of the shadowed hulks in the dim room noticed the numbers decrease, but were unable to follow anyone in the fray. Regius, be careful. Someone is blending in, came the warning on the security channel.

"Did— did you have something to do with this?" said a forcedly sobering Mans to Farkis. "Regius, get outside and stand watch."

Regius didn't budge, staring at Farkis. Now there was no grin. The hardened line that was his mouth was in fact a downward curve once more.

"Regius! Listen to me!"

Meanwhile, downstairs, Meredith stared into Chad’s eyes. The whole waiting room seemed to pause in the wake of his assertion. The silence was only broken after a moment when the receptionista’s cigarette cackle filled the stale air. For some reason the sword guy made them freeze, but her horror movie laugh set everyone off, and the cries mingled with Meredith's cackle filled Admitting and spilled through the common areas and hallways.

"Son trust me, you don't even want this place, but we're still gonna smack the shit outta you while you try to take it!" Meredith reached across the desk aiming to smack Chad in the face with her acrylic purple nails.

The doors to labs, MRI, Radiology and Emergency areas were promptly closed and barred.. One of the shadows rose in the dark room, a slant of distressed light opening and closing silently to herald his departure. Regulus walked through the gathering crowd toward Mans’ office. Toward Regius. Inside the doors to MRI rooms, Radiology, Emergency, the Morgue, and each Administration room were standard guards. (Case Management was full of lawyers who settled unacceptable cases. There was no back-end to this practice, simply an effort to keep the hospital in the good graces of whatever surrounding area they found themselves in. They were unguarded.) In total there were twenty-four guards evenly distributed throughout the rooms..

The only way one would be able to secure a radio would be to apprehend one of the guards or hospital staff who were backed into the hospital’s locked private areas or the reception desk manned by Meredith. However maps of the facility, save for the basement and Morgue areas, were commonplace throughout the facility.



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Vito strolled in still on his mount, spear pointed forward. But by the time he'd walked in, the doors had already been automatically locked. He immediately began circling civilians and staff alike, gathering them into a neat little circle. "KNEEL!" He yelled, watching as everyone slowly knelt down with their hands behind their heads. He aimed his spear towards a younger mans throat, titling his head up. Floki's mouth opened, light vapors of white gas steadily leaked out. 

'Where the fuck is the security? Hmm, clearly these fucker don't have much concern for the people.'

"Listen up, I know you can hear me and don't pretend you can't. One wrong move and everyone dies, I can have this entire area gassed out in a second. It'll be a slow painful death, not pretty. I don't want bloodshed, but I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. Just do as we say and casualties won't occur, got it?"

Vito drew his crossbow, ready to take out any resistance from a distance. Scanning the surrounding area, mapping out potential scenarios. He was serious about not wanting causalities, but won't risk compromising the mission. With most doors now shut, their routes were limited. Thinking back to the map, his main goal was the security room. Looking back to his team members, he waited for them before continuing. 

"So, how are we gonna go about this? Anyone got explosive or enough muscle to bust those doors down? I feel like we need to be quick, they're already ahead of us."

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Nikolai was late to the party. By a lot. He got distracted with his thoughts and as he reached the automatic doors he found they didn't open. With a sigh, he summoned a shield that covered his entire front and rammed through the sliding doors, knocking them down, the shield protecting him from any glass. "I hate when people lock doors. It's very rude." As he looked around he saw the patients and the receptionist already preoccupied by two people. With a shrug he walked past them and towards the first door that was locked. "Man you guys really enjoy locking every damn door you have." With a smile, he placed a hand on the door. Slowly he walked back and launched his foot at the door, knocking it off it's hinges and sending it flying down the hall. 

As Nikolai looked back into the waiting room he motioned for Chad and Vito to go ahead. "Aren't you two supposed to stop resistance? You might wanna go ahead through this opening I made." He walked back into the waiting room and crouched down. As his fingertips touched the ground, ice crept from him and surrounded the patients feet, trapping them in place. "We don't need anyone in our way."

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 The interview, as far as he is concerned, is going smashingly. How hard could it be to forge a medical degree and hijack a few real doctors to use as references? Hell, maybe he could even trick a few people into acting out his story and then implant false memories of working with them? His mind churns with the possibilities. “Although.” He murmurs to himself, his head canting to the side as he places his cheek into his upturned palm. “It’d be a lot easier to just….” His golden gaze encircles Mans, the all devouring voids of his pupils pierce through his physical essence to gaze directly upon the most fundamental fabric of his being. There isn’t a reason that he couldn’t forgo all of the lies and just make Mans hire him. That would be both easier and faster. The question, however, is how easy does he want the game to be?

Before Farkis can arrive at any meaningful conclusion the interview is interrupted. Somehow in the excitement of playing doctor, the titan had completely forgotten about the raid. Or maybe, he had assumed he’d already dealt with it by putting the orchestrator into a trance. “I guess some things can’t be stopped once they are put into motion, huh?” The comment is huffed toward Mans as annoyance begins to work its way across his brow and lips.

“I’m not sure what this is. However, I can assure you that I’ve had nothing to do with it.” Farkis’ mind starts to churn, crushing lemons into lemonade in the process. The disdain on his face is replaced by a cheshire grin with sardonic undertones. “I have a proposal for you.” He sits up, his interest now fully invested into the situation. “You hire me on, as a doctor, and I’ll go and eat your problem.” Although his hands are now clasped together, his back erect, and his elbows pressed into the arms of the chair, it seems extremely probable that he might lung across the desk to rip Mans’ throat out at any moment. “You pretty much have nothing to lose from this proposal, and everything to gain.” The clearly growing excitement is accompanied by salivation.

Somewhere in the back of the titan’s mind, he is aware of the fact that eating the raiders doesn’t correlate to him being a good doctor and does not provide Mans any incentive to hire him. In fact, if anything, Mans might agree to it just to get him out of the office and then refuse to uphold his end of the bargain.

Tilting his head back, fully expecting Regius to be looming over him, ready to restrain him, Farkis twists just enough to make eye contact with the man. “This is all getting rather exciting, don’t you think?”


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