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Guardian Quest...

Alright, vote is closed. Should have it out sometime tonight or tomorrow.
 
I'm back baby...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++​

It doesn't take you long to come to a decision, you barely even thought on it as you walked over and accepted the transmission. The man with blue hair and a small smile that appeared on the screen made you uneasy right from the start. You had seen people with that smile before, and none of them had been very nice people.

"Ah, it seems I'm having a lucky day." The man said, his grin growing a bit. "I knew there was a good possibility that Miss Harlaown would be who I would talk to, but I'm glad my gamble paid off." The rising enthusiasm in his voice clashed horribly with the fact that the room was full of corpses, but he acted like they weren't even there.

You suppress a brief shudder of unease before raising an eyebrow and forcing yourself to act nonchalant. Look the devil in the eye, had proven to be good advice so far, so why abandon it now? "And who am I speaking to exactly?" You trail off the question leadingly hoping he gets the hint.

The man gives a brief chuckle, that damn smile never leaving his face. "How rude of me, my name is Jail Scaglietti, and I've been wanting to talk to you for awhile now. Unfortunately it's been more than a little troublesome to actually find you." Here the now named man gave small sigh of satisfaction. "In retrospect it was fairly obvious where they stashed you, but I've found you now so why cry over spilt milk?"

You briefly have to fight the urge to throw something at the screen before you reply, you had never like men like this Jail was shaping up to be. "If all you wanted to do was talk to me, you really didn't need to slaughter all of these people, you could have just snuck in or something."

Scaglietti scoffs, "Now that wouldn't do at all."


You scowl, "Why?"

Jail's smile widens before he replies. "Why I wanted to secure your release of course."

[] Get angry.
[] Wut?
[] Intrigued...
 
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[X] Arch an eyebrow. "Much better. Intrigue! Mysterious attackers! But I'll have to subtract points from my unconscious for screwing up the timeline. My release had already been arranged before you attacked. I demand Narrative Consistency in my Hallucinations!"

Still crazy.
 
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[X] "What interest would have in talking with someone who has gone for the bloodiest method when there were better ways? Wouldn't that you know... PISS ME OFF?"
 
[X] Arch an eyebrow. "Much better. Intrigue! Mysterious attackers! But I'll have to subtract points from my unconscious for screwing up the timeline. My release had already been arranged before you attacked. I demand Narrative Consistency in my Hallucinations!"
 
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[X] Arch an eyebrow. "Much better. Intrigue! Mysterious attackers! But I'll have to subtract points from my unconscious for screwing up the timeline. My release had already been arranged before you attacked. I demand Narrative Consistency in my Hallucinations!"
 
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[X] Arch an eyebrow. "Much better. Intrigue! Mysterious attackers! But I'll have to subtract points from my unconscious for screwing up the timeline. My release had already been arranged before you attacked. I demand Narrative Consistency in my Hallucinations!"
 
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So, ya...I'm a lazy bastard.

[embed=425,349]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=krQHQvtIr6w[/embed]​

The blue, or was it purple, haired bastard on the screen continues to smile as you process what had just said.

"Wut?" You say incredulously has you try to wrap your head around it.

Jail continues to look amused as he watches you briefly struggle with his statement. "More specifically, I wish to offer you a job."

"Why?" You ask. You wish incredulity colored your words, but you don't even know this man, apart from a sick feeling in your gut when you look at him, who's to say that this isn't how he normally acted?

Jail gives a troubled sigh, "I've recently run into a problem that could use your expertise."

"Expertise?" Apart from kicking ass, you don't really have all that much expertise to go around, unless it's about booze, then you have a lot of expertise.

"That's right. I've recently stumbled into a problem that, I confess, I need some help with." Jail admits sheepishly. The way he acts is as if he was a kid who got caught stealing a cookie before supper, and it more than disturbs you.

In order to buy time you look around the room of slaughtered men and women. When you first entered the room you had assumed that it was the drones that had killed everybody, but when you look closer you can see that most of the wounds don't match up with laser burns, or mass weapon wounds. Instead it looks like the TSAB personnel was killed via something exploding from inside their body. Some of them looked like something had torn out of their chest, while others looked fine, except they were dead and had blood leaking from their mouth, or eyes, or ears. It all gave you a sick feeling, but you quelled your stomach and turned back to the mad professor on screen.

"How did you kill these people?" You almost whisper.

Jail shrugs carelessly. "I may have snuck in a few things I've been experimenting on. It's good to see that they worked as I expected."

It really should have made you angry that he was so callous about killing people, and in some ways you were, but trying to feel true compassion for the people that had ignored and forgot about you for seventy years was a little bit beyond you. As it stood now, he held all the cards and you had almost none. Still, you couldn't just let him have the upper hand.

"Much better!" You cry at the top of your lungs. "Intrigue! Mysterious attackers! But I'll have to subtract points from my unconscious for screwing up the timeline." You almost fail to hide the grin on your face as Jail's face draws into a look of bewilderment. Finally you have him at a disadvantage, maybe there IS something to this whole being crazy thing.

Jail doesn't take long to regain control of himself, but this time there is a slight scowl in place of the grin. "Mr. Sornsin while I am all for theatrics, I have little time, and while I could use your help I can't be here all day. Now, will you help me or not?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Based on his actions you have a hard time believing that he has the bureau's best interests in mind. Helping him would also mean betraying the women that had freed you, and you still don't know what he wants.

On the other hand, you had not special love for the TSAB after seventy years of isolation, but you didn't really feel any hatred or anger toward them either.

Decisions, decisions…

[] Agree to help Jail.
[] Decline to help Jail.
[] Lay down the law, maniacal laugh may be included based on vote.
[] write in...
 
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[X] "You want to offer me a job? Do it in person next time." Kill the connection.
 
[X] "You want to offer me a job? Do it person next time." Kill the connection.
 
[X] "You want to offer me a job? Do it in person next time." Kill the connection.
 
[X] "You want to offer me a job? Do it in person next time." Kill the connection.
 
[X] "You want to offer me a job? Do it in person next time." Kill the connection.
 
[X] "You want to offer me a job? Do it in person next time." Kill the connection.

this looks interesting. I must have moar!
 
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[embed=425,349]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJH8LRLIItM[/embed]​

You scowl up at the monitor. What was it with you and getting job offers from bad guys? Did you really look that thuggish and untrustworthy that they just assumed you could be bought? If it wasn't this weirdo it was some back arms dealer who seemed to think he could bribe you with the piddly amount of money he had in his back pocket. Did nobody ever realize that the TSAB had made sure to pay their Enforcers a god awful amount of money, simply to prevent that from happening? Well they used too, you weren't really sure if they still did.

"You want to offer me a job? Do it in person next time." You say with some contempt in your voice as you end the communication, Jail's brief look of surprise before the screen went black again made you wonder why people always assumed you were going to turn traitor. It wasn't like you ever did anything suspicious, or at least you didn't think you did.

You release a tired sigh as you glance around the room of dead people. You could remember a time such a sight would have disturbed you, even back in the old days things usually didn't get this bad. But once you've seen your friends gutted and warped into mad abominations you learned not to sweat the small stuff.

Another explosion rocks the prison and makes you wonder what had happened to the other inmates and personnel. Had they evacuated? Or were they killed off like the poor bastards that were in this room? Either way, you find you didn't really care. They were dead men, and you couldn't save dead men.

Another explosion, this one much bigger, causes the entire station to shake so bad you stumble as you head for the elevator shaft. With the elevator car destroyed the only way anybody was getting anywhere was if they had a device. You pause before you drop down into the shaft to contact Fate.

"Ms. Testarossa, I'm all done in the control room. How's the generators?" Nothing but the hissing of an open com line answers you for a quiet moment.

And then a voice responds.

"Aren." IT whispers over the line. You find yourself frozen and unable to reply as a potent mixture of shock and fear runs down your spine. "Aren, can you see it?"

"Who is this?" You scream into the com. It's been seventy years since you've heard that voice, and hearing it here is not a good thing.

The voice ignores you. "Aren, can you hear it? Can you taste it? Can you smell it?"

You grit your teeth in anger. "What are you talking about?" You almost shout at the voice again, but you manage to keep it under control this time.

The hellishly familiar voice on the other end seems to finally acknowledge you as it gives a depraved giggle. "Why don't you come and see Aren." IT says in sickly childish delight. Then the com line closes and you are left in the dark.

[] Head to the generator room immediately.
[] Head there cautiously, try to come up with a plan.
[] Bail out. Game over man, game over!
[] Write in...
 
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