Realistic or Modern OPERATION MAVERICK

[sunshineintoveins]

OPERATION MAVERICK

A futuristic superpower crime roleplay

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[sunshineintoveins]

LYNELL HAYEK

Inspector | Downstairs Cafe



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Lynell sighed as she checked her watch, it was already 6 o'clock in the evening and her updated reports on the operation for Captain Banks still weren't finished. The cafe was beginning to close and it was filled with an unnerving silence that put Lynell on edge. Heavy showers were falling outside accompanied by the occasional roar of thunder and rain streaked down the window of the cafe. She couldn't help but think of all the things that could go wrong in this operation especially with the Malefactors on board. This was the most important mission of her career, and she was leading it, she couldn't let herself fail. Lynell's long fingers tapped on the holographic keyboard, completing the final assessment of what she had planned for the team. Someone had tipped a off a fairly prominent PS drug ring who had been advertising their product as actual Sinora. The team was to infiltrate the ring by having the informant set up a meeting where they would sell them PS with a tracking device. She knew that she would have to have the Malefactors be the sellers, they understood that world better than she ever would.


Lynell sipped her tea as she read over the mission report and once she was satisfied, she sent it to Banks. She then pulled up a completely new case file and mentally prepared herself to dive into it. It concerned a family killed in their own home by a neighbor on the drug who developed the power to manipulate fire. He had burned down the house with himself still in it. A cold shudder ran up her spine at just reading the report, she hadn't even seen the photos. A drug that could make regular people kill themselves and others terrified her, especially since it was real, in her own world. She knew that she had to do whatever it took to stop it with this operation. The family were all humans, a mother, a father, and their two daughters burned beyond recognition. The man made no commotion, he simply entered the house and soon enough, it was engulfed by flames. Her plan was to cut PS from the source, they had to be a manufacturer and whoever they were, she would find them.


When she finished reading, she shut off her tablet, and leaned back in the booth. Tomorrow was the first briefing of the operation where she would have to lead nine other people. She had faith that she could rely on Carl, the other inspector on the team, she didn't know him very well but he seemed nice enough from his introduction. No other inspectors wanted to participate in this operation so it was just her and Carl. She didn't blame them, if special operations wasn't her job, she wouldn't have wanted to join either. Lynell finished her tea and pulled out a book. The rain provided a calming atmosphere and she needed to wind down before returning to her apartment to sleep. Engrossed in the story, Lynell forgot about her worries and let herself relax with the soft noise of storm.

 

[Elision of Ecritures]

Julian Kingsman

Hound | Upstairs Apartment





Julian sighed as he tossed a ball into the air, lying flat on the couch within his own small apartment. He wasn't exactly quite sure where the others were, but wasn't particularly much in the mood to meet them. Right now its seemed like he would be much more content in being without people, but he figured that being just his old and very socially adjacent self wouldn't help with knowing who was on this newly formed Task Force to take out drug smugglers and do some good old fashioned justice. The ball flew into the air and landed in his palm for a while, up and down, up and down until as it landed on his palm it disappeared. He sat up, giving out a small sigh as he stood up from the couch and went over to the door. It was a bit of an older model in terms of security so it was only a hand scanner, not a retina one like they did in more modern buildings. He unlocked the door and closed it behind him, deciding that he would find and greet at least two people today, it was like an obligation.



Julian continued his walk down the hallway, not making any sound as he kept his hands in his pockets, humming a little but very quietly as his footsteps almost didn't seem like they existed whatsoever. Julian was always a more quiet guy, as many would realize whenever they talked to him, or rather talked at him, as most conversations with him were very one sided as he barely said anything almost ever. His face almost akin to an eternal poker face, the young man never appeared very emotional or radical beyond a simple smile here and there, but still generously given out when compared to anything else he could give to show he was more than a robot. He made his way down the hallway, looking for anyone to greet or give a polite wave to, with a simple 'Julian Kingsman' and a handshake for comfort and a more personal touch, he would do the same again. It was lie a regimen and assignment he gave himself every day to make sure he wasn't a total recluse.
​

 

[ReverseTex]

Ronan Beckett


Hound| Apartment



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Ronan had his eyes closed, head leaned back against the old leather couch he had in his apartment. It had been a long day at work, and he wasn't looking forward to tomorrow. He was assigned to work on a special op case with Malefactors, and Inspectors, great. He hated inspectors due to their higher authority over Hounds, they weren't any better than Hounds, if so Hounds are better. And Malefactos, damn them, ignorant Mavricks who follow the same sterotype of their race. So he was estactic for tomorrow.


As he drifted into a dream-like state, he snapped awake, as he saw the news screen from the night his wife's death. |15 DEAD 25 INGURED IN MAVERICK ATTACK| He could see the blazing fire clearly, and watched as the building crumpled down, as its skeleton stood, blazing into the night sky. His breathing became quick, and short lasting, almost as if it was trying to grasp hold of something. He watched as the victim list flashed on the screen, and one stood out. TESS BECKETT. Finally the flashback ended, as he stared at the turned off tv, face beginning to drip with sweat. He was a


mess, a cold-hearted, asshole mess. He buried his face in his hands, and closed his eyes trying to calm himself down, so he wouldn't start throwing things, or worse.


Once calming himself after the flashback, he stood up, glancing at his hands. They were slightly shaking, good enough to function. He made his way into the kitchen, and opened up the cabinet for a coffee mug, then setting it on the countertop. He opened up his pantry, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels, and pouring some into the mug. Sometimes he'd mix in coffee, but it was the evening, so it would be unessicary. He took a drink from the cup, taking a deep breath after doing so, savoring the drink.

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[CloudyBlueDay]

MAKOA KALANI


Occupation: Hound


Location: Apartment
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Koa was an excellent worrier.


Underneath all the stoicism and shyness, anxiety crept up her stomach and gripped at her heart, always, for everything. No matter what she did to distract herself, no matter how many deep breaths she took, no matter how long she meditated or exercised, Koa always worried. Often times it was just a little what if in the back of her mind, nothing more, but the problem was, that little "what if" never left. There were so many things to worry about; it was simply unfair. Was her family doing okay? Was this new mission, her first mission, going to go awry? Were the people going to be bad, the Inspectors harsh and cruel, her fellow Hounds untrustworthy, the Malefactors absolutely insane? So many terrible outcomes, so many ways this could go wrong. If only she could silence her mind, just for a little while, just for some peace and quiet.


She felt no where near confident enough to venture out in seek of a teammate to make conversation with; instead, Makoa sat on the bed of her apartment and lazily plucked at the strings of her guitar, her precious lyric journal open beside her, pausing every so often to scribble words within it. Koa merely hummed alongside the soft guitar music spilling out into the hallways. She felt as if the walls were too thin to show a stranger her voice, her words. Her lyric journal was in many ways, her diary. The songs were always in tune with how Koa felt, and much more emotional than the girl ever portrayed herself. Thus, they were kept a secret.


But nonetheless, her guitar playing still floated out into the level of the building, the music a bit more on the minor side, but nonetheless with a steady rhythm and catch beat, a little more mellow than the raging weather outside. With her bed being right next to the window, she could watch the rain fall and the thunder flash across the sky. Part of Koa disliked this weather -- it made her feel on edge, how angry the sky seemed to be. Perhaps a bad omen. The other part of her, however, loved the pouring rain and made her long to dance in it, and the crackling of lightning making her jump, in both fear and excitement.


Tomorrow, her life changed, once again. Koa savored this moment. Perhaps the last time she would get to sit down with her guitar and feel rather safe; because after this, who knew.

 

[Guydaguy]

CONOR J. GRAY


Malefactor | Apartment
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Conor sat at his desk, and looked out at the gray, rainy city, full of melancholy. Conor appreciated the weather at the time; it made him feel at peace. It was something about the lighting, the mood it set, that made him feel relaxed inside. The only thing that Conor could think about was a way to escape. Some way, any way.. But he knew the only way was to give it time. Conor sighed as he moved his fingers a bit, and a few darts floated off the desk. And with a small flick of his pointer finger, 3 of them shot towards the dart board at a high speed, just to hit the bulls-eye one by one.


Conor had mixed feelings about the mission. He wanted his freedom, he did, but there were too many possibilities for the mission.. One of the top theories he had (or hoped for, that is,) is that the manufacturer of Psuedo-Sinora was a Maverick hoping to turn humans into Mavericks. But they made a mistake, one that Conor personally wouldn't have made.


One problem that Conor had was a lack of hobbies. While he paced his apartment, he could hear the faint sound of a guitar. Seems like someone has something to do. Conor thought. He's never really had time to do anything. His job usually consisted of selling, paperwork, telling people what to do, and travelling. And the other "malefactors," as they called them, Conor didn't know. He was actually excited to meet the others, and work together, potentially to escape. He enjoyed new faces, exploring their personalities like man first explored the world. So many stories, so many mysteries..


Conor stood up, and wiped off his dark-faded jeans and black t-shirt. As he walked over to the counter of the kitchen, he simply waved his fingers around modestly as drawers opened and closed, until he found the one that had some coffee beans. At least they supply us with caffeine. The jar of coffee beans floated into his hand as he stopped in front of the coffee machine, gave it a quick look, and loaded it up with the necessities. A mug floated out of one drawer, and landed on the counter in front of him, as the kettle on the other side of the sleek marble counter slid towards him, then into the sink. The top floated off it, and the faucet was turned on, all as Conor leaned against the counter, whistling and moving his fingers quietly to command the objects where to go. Contrary to common belief, the motions of his fingers don't mimic what the objects do. It's simply a way to channel his wills to influence the outside world.


After a few minutes, he had done everything, and out of the coffee machine came a steaming cup of coffee. He added some sugar, a good amount of cream, and went back to his desk in front of the large window. He leaned back in his chair, put his legs onto the disk, and took a sip of his coffee, looking out at the view of the dreary, drizzly city. Conor took his time, relishing the moment of freedom he had waited for.

 

[raspberryrose]

Kazimir Sewick
Malefactor | Apartment
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Kazimir shook his hand, frowning at the clunky tracking device clamped around his wrist. It was far too obvious for his taste, all but a glowing neon sign to be suspicious of him. If he approached anyone with this thing (he would hardly call it a bracelet, it was far too ugly for that) they would immediately be wary of him. How would he be able to get anything done? He sighed, there was nothing for it though, and hopefully it would be removed at the end of his... service. Perhaps service wasn't the right word though, deal? Employment? Assistance? If anything, it was far better than the version that they wore in prison. Those had always made him sluggish which was highly frustrating - he couldn't think. It was certainly good motivation to be more cautious in the future.


A crack of thunder startled him from his thoughts. He pulled down the sleeve of his jacket to cover the monstrosity on his wrist and stretched. After being practically confined to the apartment for a week, he was feeling restless. He was trying to be "good" for now which meant he couldn't kill anyone. Frankly, it was more effort than he felt he should be expending but the threat of prison lingered in the back of his mind like a particularly irritating child. He had plans for the future and he wouldn't be able to execute them if he was trapped in prison.


With a tap of his finger, a gentle breeze brushed across the room. With little effort, he circulated the air in the apartment. He loved his ability. Sometimes, it was as though he had an extra sense, a certain feel for the air. It was soothing, to feel the air brush against him, to know that he had to power to summon a gale at his fingertips. Unless he had that serum running through his veins (he hated it), he was never unarmed. All people had to breathe and wind could be surprisingly sharp. It took surprisingly little effort to kill someone, especially using some sort of wind.


He stood up from where he had been lounging on the couch and walked over to the window, peering into the storm outside. If I believed in omens... well, this would certainly be a bad one he mused, watching as light flashed across the sky. Omens were of little concern to him though, he had a goal and come hell or high water he would succeed. Intermittent music drifted from another apartment, soft and quiet. He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes; it was peaceful, the steady beat of rain alongside the rumbling of thunder and the soft sound of music weaving around it. He exhaled a sigh and pushed off of the window, laying on the bed, eyes still closed. For now, there was nothing to be done. Everything would start tomorrow though and he would have to be at the top of his game.

 

[The J]

|Harry Tute: Hound|


|Apartment|



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Harry was lounging around in his apartment, up to nothing at all. It wasn't quite right to say that it was exactly what he liked to do, however it was what he often found himself doing, hanging around like a visitor in his own apartment.


If someone else were here, he'd be more active, chatting away in a friendly manner, making coffee, but for now he was satisfied enough with leaning back in his chair, not having to pretend to be someone he was not. His thoughts were allowed to sit at rest, worries not plaguing him as they often did.


This could last only so long though, before boredom crept in, and he knew that nothing good followed on from that.


It was decided then, he would go for a walk around the building. He was thinking of just using his power to cover himself in something, but decided that he didn't have anything appropriate to hand that he wouldn't rather keep intact. Grabbing his coat and keys, he made his way out of the apartment.


On his way out though, he already came across someone else from the team that he was going to be part of. He just about recognised the face of one of the Hounds that he had been told he was working with. What was the name? Something like...


"Hi, it's Julian, right? I'm Harry Tute, part of Maverick as well. It's good to meet you." He said as he offered a hand out to shake.

 

[Javax]

Malefactor

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Health: 100%

Status: Healthy

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Tagged: N/A


Mentioned: N/A

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Mood: Bored


Location: Personal Apartment

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Notes: I finally got around to doing this. >.< I'm so sorry it took so long. It's also not my best post, so sorry for that, too. u.u


[CHARACTER SHEET]

She was so bored.


Aerona had been lying in her bed for only a minute and thirty-seven seconds. The red-head needed to do something to do to save her sanity. She supposed it was nice that the MCB gave her and the others their own assigned apartments, but it was so barren and the lack of things to do was fatal. If only they had given her an instrument to play, or a computer to browse the internet, or even a television to see what sort of chaos was going on in the world. But no. They claimed that the female was too "dangerous" to be given such things. She could make something terrible out of the parts of the instrument or contact some criminal on a hidden channel to bring harm to those in the vicinity. A smirk adorned her features at the thought.


Well, they weren't wrong.


The young Maverick raised her arms above her head and stretched until the familiar pops of her back and shoulders sounded. After lying there for a few more moments, she heaved a discontented sigh and sat up. There had to be something to do in this god-forsaken apartment.


She slid to the edge of the bed and bounced lightly off the mattress and onto her feet. Her bare feet hardly made a sound upon contact with the steel floor. Aerona began slowly pacing around the room, observing its contents for the umpteenth time. Some boring books were sitting on the shelves, untouched. None of them interested her. There was nothing in the drawers of the bedroom except for the clothing and necessities the MCB supplied her with after retrieving her from prison. There weren't any nooks or crannies or hidden compartments for any juicy secrets or interesting quest-starters. The bedroom was a no-go. The brown-eyed girl did the same routine with the bathroom, living room, and the kitchen. Absolutely no luck.


Aerona returned to the bedroom and laid back down on the bed, heaving another heavy sigh of discontent. If anything, she could fall asleep to push to boredom away. She was actually rather excited about tomorrow. The red-head would be working with new victims people on a mission whose specifics she hardly cared to take note of and memorize. The Malefactor was ready to take on this mission and go out and do things. Anything to get out of this barren wasteland of an apartment.


Visions of unsuspecting and potential victims running from her caused a sadistic smirk to dance on her face as the visions themselves danced in her mind. Before she knew it, Aerona had closed her eyes and was slipping into a dreamland that most would consider a terrible nightmare.