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Multiple Settings SCP: The New New Dawn

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SpazTheButcher2

New Member
Operation: UNDERGROUND

Day 3 - 22:34
AMTF Epsilon-84 "The Wolverines"
Paris, France

Briefing: On Tuesday, December 5th 2023, at 0315 local time, Paris Police were called with reports of yelling at 1 Av. du Colonel Henri Rol-Tanguy, 75014 Paris, France. The Paris Catacombs. Two local law enforcement officers responded and entered the Catacombs to find the source of the screaming. The screaming ceased by the time the second wave of Police arrived at 0400. Neither of the previous officers were located, and the Paris branch of the Foundation was contacted at 0515. MTF Zeta-9 had a detachment deployed at 1600, Day 1. Contact was lost at 1645.

As a result, forgoing any formalities, AMTF Epsilon-84 is to be deployed immediately. Task Force members are being rerouted and moved in under false papers, using cover code: Health Inspectors. Fury 6 is being inserted via plane, being moved in from assignment in Japan. Fury 1-2 and Goggles are being flown in from the United States from previous assignments. Fury 1-3 is being moved from previous assignment in the region. All operators are rendezvousing at 4 Av. du Général Leclerc, 75014 Paris, France.

Here, they are expected to meet each other, they will meet with the Scene Director, callsign "Watchdog", and be issued their gear.


Objectives

Primary Objectives: (0/1)

- Contain the Anomaly

Secondary Objectives (0/2)

- Find out what happened to Zeta-9 (0/5 Personnel found)
- Identify the Anomaly and it's properties


Tertiary Objectives (0/1)

- Recover the bodies of the Paris Police Officers (0/2 Personnel found)






Paris, 2234

It was a dark and relatively cold night. 40 Degrees Fahrenheit, and 100% precipitation. AKA, complete downpour. As it stood, the public knew nothing of the catacombs. The lies the Foundation fed them told them there was nothing to fear, and that it was a simple gas leak. The officers' families were told that their husbands were in the hospital, exposed.

The cafe the team had been asked to meet at was still open, despite the conditions. The neighborhood however was quiet. For many of them, they had worked a normal day at work, and gone home to rest peacefully. Peace. Peace was something that would elude Task Force Epsilon-84 for the next few hours. They had been flown in from all over, and given all sorts of strange covers. Diplomatic, business, recreational. Once they had gotten on the ground, they were issued fake licenses and papers confirming that they all worked for the "International Historical Monument Inspection Agency."

Soon, the team would arrive one by one, meeting for their first job.

Viper Actual Viper Actual AI10100 AI10100 Jigajig Jigajig FabulousTrash FabulousTrash

And I know y'all didn't state interest, but I'm inviting you nonetheless seeing as you already have OCs

Lemonsanity Lemonsanity Gears Gears
 
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Despite her profession and the grim reality entwined with it, Linda Weylan had always pictured Paris as being quite romantic and similar to how it was depicted in a majority of romcoms. Instead, the field agent found herself strolling down a grimy and eerie street as the rain invaded the city from above.

It was a visage that more closely resembled grief and isolation as opposed to warmth and companionship. The few locals still out and about took care to avoid her and Linda was silently reminded of the frequent muggings and pick-pocketing which followed the unobservant, be they tourists or otherwise.

Linda kept walking nonetheless, her UNESCO-branded lanyard peeking out from her dark coat as she navigated through the Parisian streets. Flown in under false UN credentials, Linda had been quickly relayed from another assignment where she had acted as an unnamed observer at an archaeological dig on Iceland.

It had been a quick flight with little to no prep time though that is what she was used to with the majority of information surely awaiting her at a proper on-site briefing.

She then rounded a corner and came into view of the cafe which she had been directed to via encrypted texts. Eager to get started, Linda approached the building and entered, removing the slick leather gloves on her hands as she did.
 
"ETA is twenty minutes!"

Marco glanced up from the file he was reading as a voice suddenly burst into life in his left ear. "Copy that.." He sighed turning his gaze back downwards to once more fixate upon the file he had been reading. In less that twenty four hours he had been instructed he would be sent to Paris to join up with this new team he had been transferred to. MTF Psi-84 "The Wolverines". His eyes glossed over the pages as he was flown to a remote destination in a pitch black Boeing AH-64 Apache, where from there he would then be driven to the final meeting point. He had just not long finished up a operation in the US and was already being thrust into another. Such was his life these days. Glancing out of the glass he could see his destination below off in the distance. A isolated field where a Black SUV was waiting. The file he was reading was a very VERY brief summary of who he would be joining. He'd read the thing probably fifty times by now but it paid off to be astute rather than going in blind. Once he was on the ground, Marco excited the chopper and moved onto the SUV, getting into the back. He checked the time. 22:00 exact. Once settled he sighed and laid his head back resting his eyes. It would have been probably the only real resting he would have from now on...

22:33

Thirty minutes later, the SUV pulled up outside the destination. Marco was already awake, fully alert. Patting his chest, he glanced out the window at the gloomy weather outside. "Huh.. how fitting.." Grabbing his rucksack Marco got out of the car and then glanced about the area, taking in his surroundings. It paid to make sure he wasn't being watched and that there was nothing odd about the area or those inhabiting it. Could never be to careful nowdays. Once he was satisfied with everything he headed inside, where a woman was already inside the building.
 
When working for the Foundation, one learns how to be flexible and to constantly expect the unexpected.

Still, Eloise was quite surprised to hear about a sudden reassignment. She had bidden farewell to her previous partners and hopped onto the Foundation-issued vehicle that would take her to the airport for a quick flight out. The case file was sent straight to her tablet. As far as she was aware, she wouldn't know anyone who would be in The Wolverines. In any case, it would appear that they would go down the Catacombs and Eloise wept a little inside. The Catacombs had always been something locals tended to steer clear of— only a select portion was open for good reason. The restricted areas of the Catacombs were places one could easily get lost in and who knows what else lived in those tunnels. And it would seem that there really was something anomalous in there.

Eloise quickly bundled herself up in a coat as the temperature dropped due to Paris's ever-so-fickle weather. She took the next taxi she could find to head over to the cafe. She was advised to only bring bare essentials as the Foundation would be providing her gear after the debriefing so she had a single briefcase with her. She idly peered at the license provided to her— an employee for the International Historical Monument Inspection Agency. An apt excuse— the Foundation truly has a plan for everything, don't they?

Bidding the driver farewell after paying him, Eloise quickly hurried through the sidewalk and into the cafe. She let out a sigh as she took out a handkerchief to pat herself off from the short amount of time under the merciless rain outside. She scanned the area before making her way inside to meet with the rest of the team.
 
FabulousTrash FabulousTrash Lemonsanity Lemonsanity Gears Gears
OOC: I'll give you guys until the end of this round of posts, otherwise I'm moving on without y'all
As the agents came in from their locations around the globe, they convened in the small café. It's name proclaimed it was Café Daguerre, and it was getting sizable service from the "crews" working on the "gas leak" down the road. All presumably Foundation personnel, clean up crews keeping the act going through a thick and complex façade for the public's benefit. Tables lined the outside where workers and local first responders sat, enjoying their fine coffee and late night snacks.

The operatives, however, knew to enter. Inside were sets of tables, booths, and walls covered with stained Laburnum. Polished red leather-like material covered the seats and chairs, and a bar was was the center of the restaurant. Linda was first to enter, and soon she and her teammates would notice only three occupants in the building. Two were conversing in French, one clearly a waiter in casual black garb, and the other the hostess, in a slightly more attractive black suit. However, neither approached the agents, as they stole glances at the third individual in the room.

"Combien de temps faut-il pour réparer une fuite de gaz?" The waiter muttered.

Sitting alone at a corner table was a man who could only be described as, well, average. He was middle aged, clearly into his fourth decade, with a receding hairline as the most dominant feature of his head, followed by a thick pair of spectacles, and thick neck. He appeared to be slightly overweight, filling out uncomfortable into a white button up and grey suit. A badge identical to the team's was around his neck, hanging from a lanyard.

He saw them before they saw him, and was already smiling and waving the agents over to join him and his lonely cup of coffee,

"Hey!" He called out. "You all must be those specialists the Agency has sent. Please, come on over."
 
"Hey!" He called out. "You all must be those specialists the Agency has sent. Please, come on over."

Linda had barely taken in the interior view of the cafe when she was called upon by a man seated at a table. She then glanced backwards, noticing two more people entering directly behind her, and offered them a curt nod before approaching the man.

As she approached the table she watched the cafe staff with narrow eyes. Were they fellow agents or civilians just happening to be here? Would they become potential threats or loose-ends? Would they have to be administered amnesiacs or would they have to disappear?

The last option sent a chill down Linda's spine. Was this how it would be now? Cold, calculating and uncaring for the little people? She silently hoped that there would be room for some warmth and compassion in spite of the grim reality which the Foundation worked under.

Linda then extended a hand towards the man- stopping only to offer another brief glance at the cafe staff- before speaking;
"Linda Weylan, UNESCO liaison."
 
Raiden looked out the window of the SUV he was driving, the engine idling with a low hum. Across the street, his eyes observed the cafe he and his team were supposed to meet up at.

There was never any rest of the weary. Just 24 hours ago, he had been spending some earned time off back home in Japan, away from the Foundation. But being the best of the best had it's downfalls. Whenever shit hit the fan, they were sent in.

Just another day.

His eyes followed the few people that entered the cafe. It was his people, he knew. Raiden waited a few more minutes before shutting the car off and getting out. His hand reached down to his hip, feeling the handgun that was concealed by his jacket and pants. He never went anywhere unarmed if he could help it.

The car's doors locked as he walked away. Raiden entered the cafe without much of a word, looking at those that were already present. There were four of them. Others were probably still on their way.

He reached for a chair, carrying it over to where Linda was and sat down, offering just a nod as a form of acknowledgement and greeting.
 
Marco glanced around the room, taking in the occupants. Two that looked like the cafe's staff, seemed to be conversing in hushed tones. The woman who had entered before himself, offering a nod to her as she did so to him. Then there was another who had followed him inside. Finally a lone man sat at a table, a lanyard hanging from his neck, the same logo upon it that the team had.

"Hey!"

The man had called out to them and so Marco made he way over to the group, giving a slight glance to the two staff members. Pulling up a chair he sat down giving a nod to the collected group. "Marco Shaw." He gave a mock salute to the man and then glanced about the cafe taking it all in, before turning his attention back to the group.
 
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As the bus came to a hissing stop in the parking lot, just a couple dozen feet from the cafe, Leigh stepped off. Stepped inside the building, her gothic-style combat-type boots clacking on the floor as she stopped to examine the room. She heard a few of the staff conversing in her native language, assuming she was the only one who could completely understand them.

She disregarded them and stepped over to where the rest of the group was. “Salut!! Leigh Nautiqueux, Tracking specialist. Team Leader” she introduced.
 
The man took Weylan's hand, and smiled as he shook then. Soon, he was bombarded with greetings, which he returned with a pleasant smile and nods. The only one he didn't take well was Nautiqueux, who he shot a look and loudly said,

"Ah yes, the specialist for tracking the gas concentration, right?"

He then lowered his voice, and looked her dead in the eye, any pleasantry he had leaving his face,

"It'll behoove of you to be more discreet in their presence. That salute could slide, but choose your words carefully. Folks in this area are used to tourists, and learn English."

That being said, he leaned back, smiled as if nothing was wrong, and continued,

"It's a pleasure to have you all join me. I know this is last minute, and many of you were pulled from other assignments, but I hope there'll be time to bond during the task ahead. Some of you are more up to speed than others, but I'll provide briefing dossiers nonetheless, and am ready to answer and outlying questions. Much of your preferred gear has been shipped in already, and is awaiting you near the exhibit."

With that, he pulled out manila folders from a briefcase, and handed one to each other them. The information was generally the same for all of them, outlying the following:

- Cops went in, disappeared.
- Mole Rats went in, disappeared.
- The depth interferes with radios and transmissions.

The only difference was in the files given to the Team Leads and to the Field Agent, Linda.

The Mole Rats did communicate with the Foundation once, and reported movement.

Lemonsanity Lemonsanity AI10100 AI10100 Viper Actual Viper Actual Jigajig Jigajig FabulousTrash FabulousTrash
 
((Ahm… just quick interjection, Leigh wasn’t saluting. She was saying “salut!” Which basically means “greetings” or “salutations” in French. But I’m just gonna act like she did that anyway so we can move along))

Leigh went silent for a moment, feeling like a child who’d just gotten yelled at by their parents. She quickly regained focus and nodded. “Got it… sorry” she said softly with another quickly look around the room.

“Just- one question.” Leigh said quietly. “Are there any more dangers we should be looking out for other than the ‘gas leak’…?”
 
Eloise approached the growing group, appearing apologetic at the lateness of her entrance as she was held back by speaking to a concerned tourist asking for help. "Pleasure to see meet all of you. Eloise Cloutier." She introduced. While the tensions seemed to be a little high, she hoped everything would be fine. She accepted the dossier with more information about the case.

Something was definitely down there— it wasn't impossible that people would get lost in the catacombs but highly trained MTF soldiers would find their way out. No information on what it could be though and having a lack of communication due to the depth would be problematic in the long run. Eloise closed the dossier and nodded. She was just the containment specialist in the group which would mean she needed to hang back and collect as much information as she could on the fly.

"We should get a closer look at this gas leak." She said with a sigh. "We should get it sorted out as soon as possible, hm?"
 
((Ahm… just quick interjection, Leigh wasn’t saluting. She was saying “salut!” Which basically means “greetings” or “salutations” in French. But I’m just gonna act like she did that anyway so we can move along))

Leigh went silent for a moment, feeling like a child who’d just gotten yelled at by their parents. She quickly regained focus and nodded. “Got it… sorry” she said softly with another quickly look around the room.

“Just- one question.” Leigh said quietly. “Are there any more dangers we should be looking out for other than the ‘gas leak’…?”

(( Leigh wasn't. Marco was. I accidentally merged the posts as one in my mind. Apologies.
 
Glancing up from the folder upon reading the fine print regarding the MTF-squad's single instance of communication, Linda eyeballed the Foundation contact with narrowed eyes and a slightly raised right eyebrow.

Her focus shifted only momentarily to greet the latecomer with a curt nod before she set down the file and placed it onto the table.

"So," Linda began. "Can we expect any local tourists compromising the integrity of the heritage site or are we clear to begin our own analysis of the situation once we are finished here?"
 
Marco glanced at the others before taking the file. As the man spoke, Marco opened the file and glazed over the contents. His brow creased as he frowned.
- Cops went in, disappeared.
- Mole Rats went in, disappeared.
- The depth interferes with radios and transmissions.

If a group of Mobile Task Force Zeta-9 specialists went in and disappeared, whatever was down there clearly meant trouble. Comms interference was a pain in the ass as well. He sighed slightly to himself. Once again he was going into an op more or less blind. In that case he would need to be prepped for anything and to make sure his equipment was in working order before they went in. Closing the dossier he turned his attention to the man. "What type of "equipment" will we be requiring for the leak? The usual standard stuff or will I need to bring more heavy specialised tools for the job? Wouldn't want any nasty surprises would we?"

The way Marco spoke made it clear he'd been in situations like this before. Many MANY situations. It was one of the reasons he was so damn good at what he did and how he had survived for so long.
 
Raiden's eyes scanned the contents of the folder. It wasn't anything surprising to the veteran operator. Going into the unknown was their expertise anyway.

What did catch his attention was the fact that the Mole Rats had communicated with the Foundation, which meant they found a way around the comms issue. Would be nice if that was shared with them.

He glanced around at the others as they reviewed the information for themselves, before looking towards the man who presented himself as their handler of sorts.

"If the situation is worse than expected, are we allowed to use more aggressive means to resolve the issue?"

He was asking if they could kill the anomaly . Raiden didnt want to have any second guesses if that had to happen.
 

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