Author Topic: Shiver [Closed]  (Read 4221 times)

Janus Rogo

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Shiver [Closed]
« on: May 10, 2018, 08:40:49 AM »

When -if- you need to, where do you go to ground?

Hiding is difficult, when you need to do it well. Any average joe can tuck themselves away in the woods, keep their head down, hope for the best. Maybe find a small village on the other side of Remnant, grow a beard, fuck some natives. Hell, they could even stay in the area they're supposed to be avoiding, hide in plain sight. There's a thousand ways to disappear, especially if you're just some face in the crowd.

But a Huntsman? Oh, that's an entirely different ballgame.

You see, it's easy to gloss over normal crimes. Even something as big as murder, if you're a normal person, can be escaped with enough distance. You don't have to worry too much about who's hunting you once you're off the radar. Either you'll survive, or a Huntsman will kick in your door, and there's little you can do at that point. But when a Huntsman is the criminal? Things escalate, rapidly. Responses that would be out of the question for a normal person become valid. Responses like Teams hunting you down, military forces, law enforcement cordons, mercenaries, all of that. A Huntsman stands out, whether they want to or not. They carry themselves differently. They fight differently. If they're smart, they'll keep their gear, so when a response does come, they'll be at least somewhat prepared. Somewhat is subjective, of course, depending on what's coming for you. If an Atlesian Warship bombards your hidey-hole, you're probably only going to be able to do so much.

Mobility is the trick, really. Staying in one place for too long will lead your foes to you, let them find you. If they find you, things get messy. You have to run, or fight. Or run and fight. If you keep from settling down long enough, even as a Huntsman, your pursuers will give up on finding you. You can eventually slow, you can eventually, maybe, even stop. Now, staying mobile can call attention to you, if you do it wrong. The stranger your locale to you, the stranger you seem to the locals. So there's really only one solid place to go to ground.

Home.

Janus Rogo was finally slowing down. In the year since he inadvertently helped in a White Fang plot in Vale, he'd been on the run. He had no real way of knowing who had recognized him that day, beyond the fact that he'd been chosen for a reason. A fall guy, if he'd been unlucky or unskilled enough. Who would question the Butcher of Tenang Bay being implicated in another Faunus massacre? Clever, really. Easy, too. And Janus, in all his decades of training, experience, intellect, had immediately taken the bait. Idiot.

"Idiot..."

He glanced around, making sure no one had heard him. Frigid plains, sparse fauna, and zero people, as far as the eye could see. Well, as far as most eyes could see. Janus could pick out a couple distant storms, little more than small flurries, white mountains, and straight ahead... A small village. No more than twenty buildings. Probably a dozen or so families in it. Old school prefabricated structures had been covered with homely coats of paint, windows were cut into them. Standard non-standard upgrades. Just little touches to make a bleak expanse seem a little more like a warm home. He pulled the coat around him tighter. The Tyrant, stretched into spear form, scraped the ground behind him. It sounded eager, almost. A grating, slow chuckle. Janus banished the thought and pulled the lance up, out of reach of the tundra beneath him. His boots crunched through permafrost, a steady path of prints trailed off behind him, connecting to yet another rinky-dink township. His pack was lighter than when he'd left. Rationed food was running low, ammo wasn't quite as plentiful. Most charged equipment was thoroughly drained. He wiped his face, feeling the days-old scruff on his face. Maybe a nice inn? Hot shower, a shave, quick night's rest? That's usually how things went these days.

His approach to this one was different. No one hailed him, no one tried to search him for weapons or goods, or anything. No one did anything. In fact, near as Janus could tell, no one was standing watch. The town couldn't be deserted, not with lights in the windows. Generators were still running. No signs of combat, either. Everything was intact. An evacuation would see power grids shut off, or a cordon placed if the Military had been involved. Raiders wouldn't have left anything nailed down and he could still see vehicles secured in a garage.

The Tyrant came out, snapping together as he transitioned it into it's rifle form. He slowly ran his hand down the length of the weapon, the sound tickled something in the back of his mind. A little voice saying Grimm. The mercenary grimaced as the thought fled his mind and he smacked the side of the rifle, clearing a chunk of frost from it. With the weapon high in the pocket of the shoulder, he made his approach, sweeping his gaze back and forth. No one- nothing outside. No people, no pets, no signs, just wind and cold. He shivered, then stepped off to what seemed a family domicile. A thermal lamp hung from the front of the structure, under it, a few plants spun in the outside air, not enough to eat off of, but enough to use in spices or decoration. Homely.

A quick look through the entry's portal didn't show any movement, nothing responded when he knocked on the door. Annoyed, he spun the rifle around and smashed the handle off, booting it down the street. He shouldered the rest of the way through the door with ease. Metal snapped and twisted as he walked in. The heat was still on. No signs of struggle and as he took in the family room, he noticed an old shotgun laying on the mantle, unused. He frowned and continued through the house. A dining area, a bedroom, a closet, another bedroom, a- oooh. Janus stopped. He stood at the entrance to the bathroom. Toilet paper, hot water, fluffy towels! Forgetting himself, Janus leaned his rifle inside the shower, shed the armor and clothing, and ran the water onto full heat.

It was glorious.
« Last Edit: May 10, 2018, 09:59:39 AM by Janus Rogo »

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« Reply #1 on: May 17, 2018, 02:20:42 AM »
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« Last Edit: August 27, 2023, 11:23:00 PM by . »

Zwei Not

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Re: Shiver [Closed]
« Reply #2 on: May 17, 2018, 03:43:40 AM »
[FREESTADT LOG; 2/29/80; STRUCTURE-12]

[POWER GENERATION: NORMAL]
[POWER CONSUMPTION: BELOW EXPECTED PARAMETERS-SURPLUS PROTOCOLS ENACTED]
[WATER USE: BELOW EXPECTED PARAMETERS- SURPLUS PROTOCOLS ENACTED]
[INHABITANTS: DAHLIA, JOHNATHAN; DAHLIA, MARIA; DAHLIA, SASHA]


Sasha Dahlia. A rather unremarkable girl in an unremarkable Atlesian outpost. Every day, she would help her parents in maintaining their dwelling, keep with her studies, and assist in maintaining the outpost's most integral lifeline; the lone CCT Subtower that stood at the outpost center. While Nebu hadn't expected such a small congregation of buildings to be bustling with activity, she had most certainly expected more people present than the big fat zero that she had currently taken note of. One wouldn't expect finding a teenage girl out of a predominantly male village of some... twenty odd names to be all that difficult.

But alas, here she stood, browsing system records of an all but abandoned outpost in the middle of buttfuck Atlas territory.

Whatever these villagers' reasons for leaving was, they sure seemed to have forgotten any sort of protocol. Lights had been left on despite a lack of occupants, the tower remained active despite a lack of operators, water and power were still being directed to the structures...

To be frank, Nebu wasn't keen on sticking around much longer, but a part of her maintained a curiosity about the place. This didn't seem like an evacuation. There were no signs of panic, all vehicles she had come across were in passable condition and parked within the vicinity of the owner's home, though a few were covered in snow, and any peek through the windows showed that the houses hadn't been relieved of their possessions. It was as though the villagers had just disappeared.

So then... Where was Sasha?

As much as the unexplained disappearance of the outpost's occupants had piqued her concern and curiosity, she couldn't exactly finish her mission without confirmation that Sasha, among the others, had disappeared. The chances of her inevitably empty handed return being seen as acceptable were slim as it was, and this wasn't a trip she wanted to make more than once. The air outside was cold enough to warrant a winter jacket over the RA suit, a decision she silently thanked herself for with every passing moment. A chilled sigh escaping her lips, Nebu strode off in the direction of Structure 12, pausing when her foot connected with something small, round, and not made out of snow. Her brow furrowed as she picked up the doorknob, her destination barely twenty yards away. The door seemed to have been broken through rather recently, judging by the trail of footprints that lead up to the door. Her left hand inching toward the pistol  at her hip, Nebu cautiously strode forward, pausing at the doorway when she heard the sound of running water.

So there were people still around here.

After a moment's consideration, Nebu strode in, her posture relaxing as she allowed the suit's helmet to collapse back into the armor, and her thumb hooked on her pistol's grip as she absentmindedly inspected the dwelling.
Juno Varia: The Street Punk

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Janus Rogo

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Re: Shiver [Closed]
« Reply #3 on: May 24, 2018, 11:01:47 AM »
-fssshhhh-kkt-kt-kkkt-

The water sputtered momentarily, then stopped. Annoyed, Janus jiggled the handles, then sighed. With a simple gesture from his hand, most of the remaining water was blasted off his body. A rush of wind swirled around the bathroom, scattering small objects throughout it. So the water was out now, too. Weird. Given the condition of the rest of the town, it wasn't likely to have failed this soon, unless it was related to the reason the water failed?

He knelt down, rifling through the drawers beneath the sink, pulling out a towel to finish drying off. On the back of the door hung a small, floral bathrobe, with the letters M.D embroidered on the back. It looked cheap, he thought, as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers, and he was almost certain the letters were done by hand. It was a solid job, actually. Janus was shook out of his stupor as the Tyrant slowly slid over, clattering to the floor of the tub. He slipped into the robe, rubbing at the scruff on his face as he scooped up the rifle, slinging it over his shoulder. Back in the real world, he could hear an engine approaching. Something deep, bit of power definitely, but not heavy. He'd be able to pick out anything used by Atlas Forces and anyone good enough to track him through the wastes wouldn't have made so simple a mistake as driving up to him. So it was someone unrelated. Returning populace? They'll probably be pissed about the door, he mused. Best to get ready for them.

He exited the bathroom and found himself staring at Nebu. He stiffened, but didn't freeze, coming off as a slight hitch in his step. This one wasn't a local, or at least this wasn't her home; too concerned with the surroundings, not with who was out of place. Young, but not a student. Non-regulation cut, so not military. Weird armor, too. Non-standard, but well made. Corporate? Moot.

He didn't move for his rifle, yet. But the Tyrant was still there. Hiding behind one of the most infamous Huntsmen alive.


"You're not supposed to be here.", he said, lightly.

Zwei Not

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Re: Shiver [Closed]
« Reply #4 on: May 29, 2018, 01:18:44 AM »
Save for whoever was in the bathroom, the house appeared eerily desolate. No signs of a struggle, no signs of evacuation. It was as though the family had just left the house to go into the city, but their registered vehicles remained parked outside the house."Curious..." She heard Rho mutter, her eyes flicking toward the AI's avatar as she settled on her shoulder.

Before Nebu could ask what she was talking about, however, the shower cut off abruptly, her attention snapping toward the door as Rho disappeared from her shoulder. Her entire body tensed, Nebu kept her eyes on the door, fingers wrapped on the grip of her gun as she waited for the occupant to leave, ever so slowly creeping forward... Only to have her attention stolen as she heard the revving engine. A civilian vehicle, likely. The engine note was far too light to be anything that Atlas would send this far out. Too light to be utilitarian as well, but just deep enough to tell that the vehicle was intended to move quickly. Sports car, maybe? But who would drive a sports car in this kind of weather?

Nebu almost jumped as she was spoken to, the unfamiliar voice ripping her from her train of thought as she snapped her head toward the source of the voice, the rest of her body following rather quickly as she drew her weapon and took aim. She hadn't pulled the trigger, however, instead opting to lower her weapon as she got a good look at the stranger. The man well built, but not excessively so, his body marred by a myriad of scars and tattoos, and his posture stiff, as though her presence surprised him as much as his did to her. Granted, given the situation, that was a fair enough assessment, but that was neither here nor there.

What caught Nebu's eye, however, was the rather... lacking bathrobe the man was adorned in, its pink color adorned in flowers arranged in what would normally be a visually appealing manner, and embroidered with a small MD on a pocket over the right side of the garment. The sight itself was rather amusing, to say the least.

A light smile played at her lips as she spoke up in turn, returning the gun to its rightful place at her hip. "I believe the same could be said about you, Mrs. Dahlia." she replied, looking the man up and down once again. "Care to explain what you're doing here?"
Juno Varia: The Street Punk

Juno Vert: 1st year student of Beacon, Armored leader of Team VCVS

Phi: #007ba7

Nebu Nekhbet: DUAT unit 01: Desegnation RA

Nebu/Rho: #FFD700

Austin Vartra: TBA

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« Reply #5 on: May 30, 2018, 03:41:48 PM »
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« Last Edit: August 27, 2023, 08:25:06 PM by . »

Janus Rogo

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Re: Shiver [Closed]
« Reply #6 on: June 14, 2018, 07:12:10 AM »
A response to the first girl died in his mouth as the second, younger girl appeared. His glance took in what he needed to see, just as well as with Nebu. Her remarks, her apparent age, indicated a particularly oblivious student. Well equipped, sure, with who knows what for a semblance, but she wasn't likely to have much experience with it. He held the look for a beat, then his attention shifted again. A broad grin spread across his face as he gestured for the others to come in. He moved into the kitchen area, sparing one more glance for the older woman. Nothing more than a friendly smile and implicit violence.

"Come on, come in, girls. No, I don't have any idea what's up with this town. Weird, though, isn't it?", he said, poking through a pantry. "So, I know one of you is a student, but I'm not too sure for the other. Private sector? Contractor?"

Zwei Not

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Re: Shiver [Closed]
« Reply #7 on: June 26, 2018, 10:42:31 AM »
”None of your concern.” Nebu replied flatly, her brow furrowing as the man smiled over at her. It was a cop-out, yes, but she could let him get too interested. People were very bad at keeping secrets, and SET couldn’t quite afford knowledge of them spreading around. At least not yet, anyway. “And yourself? A huntsman, I take it?” she deflected, leaning against a countertop as she waited for the man to answer. And hopefully stop raiding her mark’s pantry.
« Last Edit: March 19, 2019, 04:48:01 PM by Rush »
Juno Varia: The Street Punk

Juno Vert: 1st year student of Beacon, Armored leader of Team VCVS

Phi: #007ba7

Nebu Nekhbet: DUAT unit 01: Desegnation RA

Nebu/Rho: #FFD700

Austin Vartra: TBA

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« Reply #8 on: June 29, 2018, 03:42:14 AM »
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« Last Edit: August 28, 2023, 12:38:57 AM by . »

Janus Rogo

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Re: Shiver [Closed]
« Reply #9 on: July 12, 2018, 08:45:25 PM »
The florally clad mercenary shrugged.

"Something like that." he said. "For now, just consider me an... Adventurer? Wanderer?"

Janus pulled a partial loaf of bread out of the pantry, squeezing it with a frown, before discarding it. "An Investigator." Momentarily he settles on a can of beans, stepping away from the pantry and up to the small island in the middle of it. He glanced between the two women, then shrugged. "Investigator should be juuust fine, for now. I'd rather not have to dip into the other names, so, please, ladies, mind your manners?"

He unslung his rifle, setting it flat in front of him. He gestured for the other two to do the same.

"Lets all just relax a little. Enjoy the fruits of someone else's labors. Judging by the state of things, I doubt they'll be back anytime soon."

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Re: Shiver [Closed]
« Reply #10 on: March 20, 2019, 08:47:25 PM »
Yersinia Tenax

Jima had first found the name sprawled in the margins of a mildly-ancient textbook about Atlesian Grimm species she’d been pursuing for some light reading. Despite all her knowledge regarding Grimm, she hadn’t recognized the name - but the codex of the textbook hadn’t had it listed. She’d pulled out every other book regarding Atlesian-based Grimm she could find from Beacon’s expansive library, and she’d managed to find nothing - no book entries, no codex entries, not even mentioned in the sections regarding Atlas’ rarest Grimm. And this was from Beacon’s library, one of the world’s foremost schools of Hunting!

It’d been 1 am by the time she finished her obsessive searching, high in the shelves in one of the back corners of the library - the semi-restricted section, for Professors only. There were the translations and physical copies of journals and notebooks from Hunters past, and then some - from well before the job gained a working title, even. Another few hours were spent in that section trawling through journal after journal, and notebook after notebook, to the point she’d nearly given up - until she’d found a small paperback diary hidden between several of the larger translated volumes. It contained the tail of a relatively unknown Atlesian hunter he’d spent most of his time drifting from settlement to settlement in frigid north to help with their Grimm problems, documenting them along the way, and a lone page was titled with what she was looking for.

Yersinia Tenax

Also known as the Mold, the Rot, or the Plague. A possession-type Grimm like a Ghast. The mysterious species favored possession of organic beings over inorganic, and stuck to the frigid north, shying away from light and heat.

That’s what she’d managed to extract from the Hunter’s hasty scribbles, at least. His penmanship was nearly incomprehensible, smudged by time something like… fire damage? Even the crude stick figures meant to display document the Grimm strange, human forms that drooped as if carrying a heavy weight, with-all black eyes and something that could faintly be described as a mushrooms sprouting from their shoulders.

It was the last page in the Hunter’s journal, too.

Jima had held a somber moment of quiet for that poor Hunter, his name lost to time and the elements. He’d been taken by something not long after he’d written this, maybe even the very Grimm he’d spent his final moments documenting. She’d very carefully kneeled on the library floor that night to lay open the journal with her own right beside it, copying every detail down in her own spidery cursive

The next morning, she put in a simple mission statement with the school that noted she was off to Atlas to train on her own against Grimm in the extremely harsh climate. She was grateful with her relationship with the staff and her status as a student nearing graduation - she’d manage to book three whole weeks to herself to herself.

So off she went, searching for this mysterious Grimm species that was completely absent from common knowledge. People were discovering new Grimm species all the time, so it might not just have circulated yet - but she’d never heard of it before the previous night, and she was up-tp-date with nearly every new species that was discovered. So if there was the chance to find and publicize an entirely new species on her own, well-

She was going to make her name known.

So that’s what had brought her to the present - drifting quietly above the seemingly-endless Atlesian snowfields aboard Requiem, enroute to her next destination. She’d been flying from Atlesian outpost to outpost for nearly a week and a half now, picking up what little information she could from locals. Her next outpost was at the base of some far-off mountain, so remote the place barely had a name - all she’d needed were the coordinates for her solar-powered scroll, everything else tucked well away.

...the sample kit was a last-minute addition. If it was some sorta fungus Grimm, well- it was worth a shot.

The nice thing about having remote senses was that Jima wasn’t necessarily bound to her physical body. As long as she pointed Requiem in the right direction and kept her hearing attached to her body, she could let her vision drift to check out the outpost and its inhabitants. The thing was though, Even the most remote outposts had signs of life- lights on, a broadcasting CCTV tower, and usually footprints. But despite the signs of life, there didn't’ seem to actually be any life- beyond one large set of footprints leading into the village,  and some coming from the opposite direction down the main street-

Leading directly to a short woman in a hi-tech suit leaning in a doorway, a few years older than her at most. Potential threat, but nothing she can’t hold off long enough to flee from. Classification: cute, get a closer look at the tech she’s wearinng. She’s having a conversation with someone inside the house too, a man that looks like Janus Rogo in a too-short floral bathrobe too, but it’s not like she could hear it at the moment-

Rogo.

The name connecting with the information deep in the woman’s brain is enough to make her start, considerably slowing down Requiem’s headlong speed as she approaches the edge of the village. Janus Rogo. The Jet Knight. High-class hunstman who once worked for Atlas. Butcher of Tenang Bay. Wanted for sinking a ship with 206 Faunus aboard under the jurisdiction of the Atlesian Militarily. Classification: Dangerous.

He was notoriously on the run. It’d make sense to find him out here, in buttfuck nowhere. He needed somewhere to hide to survive. She’d reflexively stare if she got closer, so she’d need a way to ensure he didn’t realize she knew who he was-

Thunk.

The two strangers would be able to hear heavy impact from end of the street, a half-scream as Jima pitches forwards off her board, and a rather unfortunate thud as she hits the icy ground. Her backpack is still attached thank god, but her glasses have gone flying to who-knows-where, and the tinkling of glass indicates they’ve probably shattered. Requiem is halfway embedded in the wall, the motor’s steady purr slowly fading - and Jima’s left lying on a her front, dizzy from her own vision snapping back into her head for the first time in ages.

Nearly ten years living outside her own head, you think she’d have better cognizant awareness when she left it. “Well, fuck me!”
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