Midnight Shadows Guided Games GENEsis: DOFP Genesis In Character Days of Future Past [NYC] The Workshop [PRIVATE]


05-23-2015
08:52 PM
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05-23-2015, 08:52 PM
The Workshop [PRIVATE] [Post #1]
The Workshop

There’s a building amongst a web of rusted and ivy laden structures still standing in what used to be one of Staten Island’s junkyards. Old cars and discarded machinery line the narrow paths that have become dirt blown and overgrown with weeds and shrubbery. There’s a ‘beware of dog’ sign hanging from on hook on the main fence, but whether or not there’s a tame guard canine present remains to be seen.

Hastily downloaded information about a detention facility – or possibly facilityies – has led Victor and Paige to find themselves standing outside the main gates. They need the help of an individual that knows how to decode information and draw locations out of imagery, or someone that knows how to figure out how to create whatever necessary to do such. As reluctant as Paige may have felt turning to Jonathan Silvercloud for help, she and Victor Creed made the trek from Philadelphia to Staten Island without stopping in Old Queens to catch up their allies on the situation.

No point getting anyone’s hopes up if what they had gathered was useless, or if Forge refused to help decipher it.

continuing from here

RULES
* For Sabretooth [Ellen], Forge [Chrissie], and Husk [Fred] only.
* All GENEsis and Board rules apply.
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05-23-2015
10:47 PM
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05-23-2015, 10:47 PM
[In-Character] [Post #2]
It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t tired, even if she tried to act as though she were fine. It would also be a lie if she claimed she was delighted to be exactly where they were, ready to bust through the gates they were standing before. The metal stood like an ominous web that should have prompted them to turn on their heels and head back to Queens. Instead she drew in a few slow breaths of nice clean air and glanced out of the corners of her eyes at Victor standing somewhat beside her, his eyes fixated somewhere in front of him beyond the fence.

She glanced upward to her right at the surveillance camera that was draped in I vine of morning glory, and she wondered how long it had been since it had last served its original function. It was like a dead eye staring at nothing, but present regardless.

“Are you as excited as Ah am?” She asked, not really expecting an answer so much as she was a grunt or a growl of disapproval. Still, she turned her head to glance at him as she reached for the gate and unhooked it from its post. “Because Ah know Ah’m sure pumped right about now.” Drawing the gate back as far as it would go before it got caught in the tall grass, Paige pivoted herself and slipped through the opening. “Come on, Tiger.” She called over her shoulder to him.

She pointed towards the ground and the coiling black wires that seemed forgotten to time. “Don’t step on those.” She commented as she led him through the labyrinth of rust, metal, and rotted tires. If she let herself, she could remember the old shop he used to have at the schools, the disarray that was just how he wanted it, when his work used to mean something.

A glance to her left or right while the progressed further would have had her noting a building here, or an overturned crane there, items she had seen hundreds of times as she had tried to make her way further and further into the yard. She rarely ever made it to his door, and she had never managed to knock. Too much frustration would expand through her chest, frustration over everything, including what the last years had allowed for.

She wondered if Forge would even listen and let them in, let alone open the door for them. Still, he couldn’t hide. Not forever. She knew he kept himself buried here. Because this place was relatively safe, at least for his mutation, kept him busy.

“Maybe you should ring the bell.” She suggested as they came to pause before one of the buildings, an old porcelain sign leaned against the right doorway that she hoped would open for them. Paige nodded towards a metal quart sized pot that sat hung from a hook near a broken window next to the waiting door. “Ah’m sure he’ll answer if we promise cookies.” Then she frowned. “Thin Mints sound amazing right now. Too bad they don’t make them anymore.”
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05-23-2015
11:54 PM
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05-23-2015, 11:54 PM
[In-Character] [Post #3]
As expected he grunted at her question. Excited wasn’t what he would call it but at least they were going to see they guy who most likely could help them out. Their trip back to New York hadn’t taken them long and instead of going back to the theatre first, they had made a beeline straight to this place. No time to waste and Paige had understood that.

Victor followed her through the gate, pushing it further open so he could fit through as well. He snorted when she called him tiger and shook his head. He used his nose and sniffed out any sort of booby-traps that might be lying around, it was after all Forge they were going to look up. Victor figured the guy was even more screwed up in the head than he was right now.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He grunted as she commented about the black wires. He navigated through them and followed her through the yard and was satisfied that they didn’t get blown up or something when they reached what he assumed was the entrance to Forge’s lair. He checked it out, shook his head when she commented about him ringing the bell. For a moment he wondered if she talked this much in bed as well. Not that he would ever find out, she kept declining his offer. It didn’t stop him from trying though, it almost was like a game between them.

He raised his fist and knocked rather loudly on the door. “He better be home.” He grunted at Paige, knocking again.
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05-25-2015
06:13 PM
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05-25-2015, 06:13 PM
[In-Character] [Post #4]
“Probably a good idea to not break the door down.” She commented as she lifted her left brow, watching him rap his knuckles for a second round of knocking. Paige folded her arms and leaned a hip against the support beam keeping the half surviving overhang slightly still in place. The wood groaned and she glanced upward at the dust that shifted from the few lingering shingles that clung to the porch roof. “Though Ah imagine it wouldn’t take much effort.”

The sound of something small pinging gently against metal had her straightening. Her senses pitching awkwardly and a sudden feeling of dread had her shift to glance at their surroundings once more. Everything sat as quietly as it had when they had first arrived and as unchanged as when they had meandered through the lot. There was nothing to prompt her concern other than her simply being concerned. Concern over something unseen lurking and waiting to strike, waiting to take them or destroy them. Another visual pass indicated no change, still.

The air shifted and a faint breeze curled about her shoulder, almost comforting. A ball of red and brows fur leapt from the broken window of an old Chevy pickup and scampered down to the ground where it disappeared in the tall grass. Paige exhaled her held breath quietly. Victor may think her mad for getting worked up over a squirrel, but any little sound could be a threat and she didn’t want to be partially responsible for giving up Forge’s location to anyone who didn’t need to know it.

Looking towards the western sky, she noted the horizon starting to pinken, gauging just over an hour before sunset. At least it would be dark soon. That afforded them a measure of cover and safety, but Gabe would be waiting to hear from them. She didn’t want to piss around going over every detail of their scout with him if they didn’t leave this makeshift workshop within a decent amount of time. Either the man inside would be able to figure out how to piece their intel together or he’d send them on their way to return later. Whatever option, he needed to answer his door. The day was drawing to a close and she wanted to be able to disappear back into the city alone before Gabe’s attempted midnight rule kicked in.

“What the hell is he doing?” She murmured impatiently as she stepped passed Victor and closer to the door he was insistent on obliterating. Leaning forward, she set her ear against the wood that only served as a cover to the second door behind it. Maybe he was passed out. Paige reached for the doorknob to find it locked. Rather than asking her companion for help, she tugged instead at her fingers and drew the skin away from the tips to the middle of her forearm to reveal blue sapphire. Then she took hold of the knob again and turned, forcing a disapproving groan form the locking mechanism before the item popped and dislodged into her hand. “That’s…probably not going to make him happy.” She bit at her lower lip. “Do you have any glue?” She could totally glue it back on. “Maybe duct tape?” Duct tape solved all problems.
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06-04-2015
08:37 AM
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06-04-2015, 08:37 AM
[In-Character] [Post #5]
Jon pursed his lips as he stared at the machine. He put down the soldering iron, staring at the insides of wires and circuit boards and screws and … more wires. The thing was eluding him. “You nasty little thing you”, he murmured as he leaned in close. It was the third day in a row he had tried to fix the thing but somehow remained unable to. He blinked, leaned back in his chair and pulled the magnifying glasses off his face. Then he shrugged, snatched up the bottle of cheap port, took a large mouthful. “Right … no coffee again then.”

It was then that his ears picked up on the little noise rising from behind him. He stood, sitting back down because of the sudden motion. Then he rose again, slower this time. He approached the desk, wiring the old tablet into the sockets. A grainy picture flickered to life, the remaining daylight barely being enough to see anything at all but there still being too much of it to switch to night vision.

Jon kept blinking his eyes, trying to make out who it was. A woman, a man. A big, tall, freakishly bulky man. Jon contemplated the fact that little to nothing in here would help him were it to come to a confrontation between him and that man. “Huh”, he breathed at that realization. The sound was chased by the thought of ‘Well, guess I’m screwed then?’ – his mental voice sounded a little too amused. He gulped down a little more port, before tossing the tablet back onto its customary shelf. He turned, set down the bottle and sauntered towards the front of his shop.

He leapt up two stairs at a time. Then he missed one at about four leaps up. The sound of drunk man hitting metal stairs rang through the cluttered but wide space of his shop as he tried to put himself back onto his feet. Now he took the steps one at a time, right until he came out on the upper landing where an inconspicuous panel on the wall turned out to be a door. He stepped out onto the landing expanding the length of the building on this side. Beneath him he saw the two figures – his visitors.

Gripping the banister, Jon leaned forward. A screw driver slipped from the breast pocket of his stained shirt and sailed down. He yanked up his eyebrows at the sight of the decoy-door having been broken. The girl would discover nothing but concrete behind it. “Hey, don’t break the house!” he pushed out, a little annoyed. Then recognition flashed across his face and he stared down with unhidden surprise. “Guthrie?”
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06-04-2015
08:40 PM
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06-04-2015, 08:40 PM
[In-Character] [Post #6]
“Apparently almost breaking his drunk neck.” Victor growled as his enhanced hearing picked up the stumble on the stairs inside the building. Someone was coming and that someone wasn’t really being stealthy about it. He started to doubt about this being a good idea. Perhaps they should’ve gone to someone else but then again there was nobody else. Forge was the man they needed, he was as good as they got. If only he could keep his hands off the booze long enough to help them out.

Victor stared at Paige as she suddenly held up the door knob for him to see. He quirked a brow at that and snorted at her commentary. He doubted the man cared about anything these days besides his bottle. Without so much as a blink of an eye, his hand moved to one of the side pockets on his fatigues and handed her over a roll of duct-tape. Yes he came prepared.

A screw driver came sailing down and barely missed his head, he looked up growling and wasn’t surprised to see Forge standing there. The man was scowling down at them to not break his house. Victor had a few choice words about this man’s house but managed to bite his tongue.

“At least he recognizes you, princess.” Creed snorted at Paige. “Can you let us in? We need to talk.” Victor grounded out at the man.

He didn’t like standing out in the open like this. Unease crawled over his back and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something would go down soon if he and Paige didn’t get their hides out of the street. “Unless you like Sentinel visits.”
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06-05-2015
04:24 AM
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06-05-2015, 04:24 AM
[In-Character] [Post #7]
The Victor actually produced a roll of duct tape both surprised and delighted her to no end in that very moment and she plucked it from him. Drawing it a decent length, she cut the strip with her teeth and worked to carefully secure the knob back onto its mount so Mr. Smartypants would perhaps be none the wiser. Paige choked back a snort of amusement. It was a little hard to overlook a doorknob duct taped back into place, but what the hell. Likely the daft bastard couldn’t see straight anyway what with the alcohol and his advanced age.

A clattering against the dirt covered concrete slab beneath their feet had her turning to look at Victor once more and then down at his feet when he let out a disapproving growl. It was a voice the prompted her to look up, to lock gazes with the man they sought, his insistence that they not break his house was regarded with little attention. Then he addressed her, actually spit out her name all semi-sober enough she straightened in an attempt to get a better look at him.

“Silvercloud.” She returned. Victor’s comment had her eyes briefly sweeping back to him. “Oddly surprising if you want mah opinion.” She muttered. There had been a moment that she thought they’d have to somehow scale and break into the building and find Forge at his desk with some half-ass cobbled gadget, an overturned bottle of scotch, passed out in house jams. When she looked back up at him, taking a quick survey of what she could make out of his appearance, she wondered if he had bathed recently.

The deeper voice beside her resonated, not just with her desire to be out of view, but simply hummed off the metal around them.

She didn’t like being so…exposed. Especially not when she was so near two idiots that thought it a good idea to have such a casual conversation at such volumes. “Ah personally am all for being inside the building.” She said it because it was true and she wasn’t sure what else to say. She didn’t want to sound needy and inform him that they were there for his help. She had resigned herself to never asking him for anything more than she had, at least personally. But this wasn’t personal. Not exactly. Or perhaps it possibly could be.

“Are you going to stand there all evening?” She asked as she looked back up at him. “Because this is not where Ah want or plan to spend my entire night.” There were far more interesting and important places she needed to be rather than standing on Jonathan Silvercloud’s ‘porch’ waiting for him to let them in. She hooked a thumb inside the collar of the snug jacket she had taken from the school, briefly drawing it away from herself just half an inch and momentarily smelled lilies before letting the item resettle. Realizing in that moment she hadn’t husked her arm back to normal, she considered doing so, then opted to pull a fingerless glove into pace instead.
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06-22-2015
09:18 AM
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06-22-2015, 09:18 AM
[In-Character] [Post #8]
“I don’t like any visits”, Jon stated not without defiance, eyeing the large brute towering over his much shorter, smaller companion. She … Paige … she looked almost like… like… Jon sucked air in through his nose, pushing the memory from his head. He had gotten good at ignoring memories. If you believed they didn’t actually exist, then no one else could drag them from you either.

His eyes wandered to Paige’s form and the annoyed frown on Jon’s face slightly softened. He didn’t like visitors. That had been the truth. Most of them reminded him of things he had no use remembering. They brought painful images back to him – reminded him just how many had died. Jon swallowed, then stepped back. He waved a hand above his head. “Alright, whatever”, he snapped. “Just watch your step”, he warned right as he stepped back inside and hit a small button on the left of him just next to the door frame.

The floor beneath his visitors would open and they would tumble into what he referred to as his ‘basement’. A dark, unused and rather cluttered space beneath the workshop from which only a single path led up to where he was.

Jon descended the stairs once again, waiting for his visitors to join him. “I’d offer coffee”, he half chirped at them, half slurred. “But the machine refuses to be fixed.” He chuckled at that, and fished his bottle up from where he’d left it.
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02-18-2018
03:36 AM
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02-18-2018, 03:36 AM
[In-Character] [Post #9]
---Fast Forward---

She didn’t knock, didn’t need to do so. She had briefly stared at the false door, had wondered what the point was when she knew he would instead open a way beneath it. Still, she refused to wait for him, refused to bait him with a knock or bell. Without permission or warning, she had put herself within the confines of what he considered ‘home’.

It was awful.

And so very perfectly him.

There were scattered parts and pieces, some gathered on tables, others shoved onto shelves and appeared to have been forgotten for months. There were random screws and bolts tucked against corners. An overturned glass, and another broken in half right beside it. The smell of whiskey, scotch malt so potent she didn’t need Laura’s enhanced senses to detect it. The name brought her to pause, one of their number still sitting behind bulletproof glass and titanium bars. Even if she had insisted on being left behind until necessary.

Lavender eyes obscured her thoughts.

She had thought they would have turned black in the span of a decade, yet the brief glimpse she had had of them before the woman had been deposited on a bed and she rolled onto her side into sleep had given way to the familiar lavender hue. It had been haunting in a way she couldn’t put her finger on. Reminiscence, nostalgia, something of that ilk.

Wanda lifted her gaze away from the discarded glasses. “Forge.” She spoke the moniker with care, simple, a single syllable cast into the dim lighting that this place offered. The hour didn’t matter, even if she plucked him from a machine or roused him from sleep, he could piss and moan all he liked.

He would leave with her when she wanted it. “Trinkets and knick knacks to keep the mind at work.” She mused as she fingered a small half constructed motor on one of the tables. “When drink dries up and emotion threatens to pitch.” She drew her hand back to herself and looked about herself. “Jonathon Silvercloud.” She drew his surname out like a melody that played over and over in her head. It did, ever since lavender graced their world once more.

“Do you want to know a secret?”
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