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Coeus Themis

Locked Doors, Hidden Keys

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Scientists once theorized that humans only use ten percent of their full brain potential. Because they could not hypothesize exactly what the mind was capable of, it was thought that such research was dismissed. However, world powers continued to delve into the mind, unlocking the secrets of the subconscious and processing capacity.

They eventually stumbled upon something powerful.

Something corruptible.

Something which would bring the world to its knees.

Beginning in Russia, the militarization and training in this hidden art - Psychokinesis - reached critical levels. The general populace was starting to suspect something as children were enlisted in special programs, promising to turn them into “The Motherland’s perfect civilian”. Parents obviously obliged to let their children disappear; they had no other choice. But they weren’t happy about it.

Word slipped, and soon it was a world concern. Superpowers began monitoring Russia, scanning strange facilities for irregular circumstances. They eventually were able to penetrate the Russian intelligence system and discovered what the Motherland had been hiding.

What they found started the war to end the world.


[/hr]

The soft crunching sound of wet snow as it was packed into footprints was the only sound Vladimir Retuski could hear as he crept along the frozen sidewalk of a small miners' town in the cruel tundra of Russia. Most of the rundown village's residents had already withdrawn to their homes, preparing themselves for the upcoming snowstorm. Vladimir was doubled over, his hands tucked into his underarms; he hated snow. It was a very unnatural thing for a normal Russian man to despise, of course, as Russians were adapted to the harsh climate. But unfortunately, Vladimir's German blood decided to take precedence in this matter.

This explained his agitated mood as he bitterly stomped through the town, his only guide the swinging, flickering light that hung from a wire stretched across two buildings. He had no idea why his informant insisted that they meet in an obscure, damp, dirty alley in a poor shanty town in the dead of night. There were hundreds of more comfortable rendezvous where the delicate matters at hand could be discussed, he thought. The knowledge that this man possessed was of utmost importance, however, and Vladimir was ordered to retrieve this information, and so he did. He was one of Russia's most loyal dogs, he always mused to himself. But biscuits and pats on the head were becoming less and less rewarding.

“Hey, hey you. Here.” Spoke an unseen man from the distance. Vladimir's head flicked up to the sound of an actual human voice, for a moment he thought he was completely alone in this chilling void. He squinted, trying to make use of the light to locate the man. From the darkness, a gloved hand reached out and yanked him forward, into the shadows. Vladimir was suddenly on the offensive, and he instinctively reached for his back pocket, the spot which holstered his MP-443 Grach, his personal choice of weaponry and the standard issue pistol of the Motherland.“Whoa there, I am a friend.” The man hurriedly spat out, waving his arms frantically and grabbing Vladimir's arm. With his other hand, he retrieved a sulfur-tipped match and struck it across his dirty pant leg. Match in hand, he light a lamp that was perched on a worn cardboard box, which looked as if it could collapse at any moment.

Light immediately washed over the man's face. He wore a cotton-knit toboggan, which failed to hide the greasy wisps of hair that hung down in his face. He had crooked and worn teeth, which were yellow and disgusting as he flashed a nervous smile. A thin, torn plaid jacket covered his starved frame. The man also had a perfect look at Vladimir, who was wearing a thick, black fleece jacket. He had a wool cap covering his head, which concealed his roundly cut blond hair. Vladimir's build was indistinguishable under his jacket, but he stood taller than the man who was his informant. “Are you the agent the Institute has sent?” The man had retracted his arm now, and was rubbing his grubby hands together anxiously.

“You'd better hope I am.” said Vladimir, sending a shiver of fear through his informant's spine.

“Yes, well, I assume you are here for what I claim to know.”

“You assume correctly, but is there somewhere we can talk a little more privately?”

“Oh do not worry, my friend!” exclaimed the man, overly ecstatic, “there is not a soul walking about this town.” He gave what he must have thought was an encouraging smile, but Vladimir just took it as a front of hope for that what he had said was true. Vladimir pierced the man with a cold, irritated stare. The poor man's eyes widened and he started to stutter, words tripping over themselves as his mind rushed to say something. “I-I-I g-gu-guess you want me t-to tell you wh-what I know...?”

“That's why I'm here.”

“Very well. As you know, Neurotek has been amassing and transferring their assets and research to remote facilities in the jungles of Brazil.”

“Of course, we've been tracking them for months. The canopies are too thick, and our aerial drones can't pick up heat signatures or confirm visually.”

“Ah, but what I have will tell you exactly where they are.” He gave a sly grin and dug around in his stained jacket, procuring a small thumb drive from an interior pocket. “Exact coordinates of all five Neurotek facilities, complete with blueprints and specifications.”

Vladimir's facial expression changed from unimpressed to taken aback, eying the USB with caution. “And where did you come upon this? I'm sure Neurotek doesn't just hand out this kind of information.”

“Where I got it is another matter completely, and I'm sure the details would bore you.” He paused for a moment, covering the thumb drive with his grip. He withdrew his hand and his face became a slate of seriousness. “There is the matter of payment.”

At this moment, the man felt cold steel bleed through his jacket. Vladimir's Grach was now floating just behind the informant's back, level with his spine. The man was speechless, but Vladimir just stared at him with his hand in the air. “I thought you were an agent! They sent a Telekinetic after me? What did I do to deserve this?” The man blurted out, his eyes widening. “Please, spare me. Here,” he threw the thumb drive at Vladimir, who threw his other hand up and grabbed the thumb drive midair, “take it. I'll tell you everything I know, I'll give you everything I have. Please spare me! I was sent here, it's a set up! There's an ambush set up here, the thumb drive is meaningl-” The man was cut off by a sharp crack of gunfire, but not from Vladimir's Grach.

No, the man had said too much. And everything he said was true.

“Oh, you have got to be fuc-” More gunfire joined in the initial shot, until the steady rattling of a machine gun became the rhythm for Vladimir's heartbeat. The bullets were coming from the opposite side of the street that the alley led into, which meant they had a perfect shot at him and he had no where to go. He dove behind a dumpster and threw his other Grach into the air. Now both Grachs floated about ten feet above the trash bin, returning potshots into the dark. Vladimir clicked on a mic which was taped to his cheek and fought for audibility over the clattering of gunshots. “Anatoli, copy.” The only thing that came back was the static of a broken COM link. “Anatoli, copy!” He yelled, praying for some response. There was none. He cursed and whirled around, shoving both hands forward. The dumpster flew forward as if it had been pushed by a giant. Vladimir turned and bolted down the alley, hearing a satisfying scream a few seconds later. Anatoli, his partner for this operation, was his only way out. He spotted a car and grabbed at air, pulling his arm back quickly afterward. The door off of the small Russian-made sedan flew off into the darkness, giving him a chance to hop in. “It sure is my lucky day after all.” He mused to himself, finding the key still in the ignition.

The worn, beaten car started with a sputter and a puff of black smoke. He couldn't hear any more gunshots, so he was safe for now. Turning onto an old access road which would lead him back to civilization, he sighed and lit himself a cigarette. “Things are just to good to be true.” He said, taking a long drag.

“It was a God damn set up.” Vladimir Retuski threw the fake thumb drive onto a gilded mahogany bureau. It tumbled down into the lap of The Research Institute of Neurological Functions' administrative assistant, and Vladimir's team leader. “What do you mean?” The man asked. He wore a very fine suit, coal-colored with a pinstripe design. His jet black hair was slicked back, and he sported a graying mustache.

“I mean what I said. It was a set up. Our intel was a fall guy. It was a ********ing ambush!” Vladimir threw his coat on the chair behind him and sat down, rubbing the crease between his eyes.

“I wouldn-”

“Yes, I know. You wouldn't have ever known and you're sorry. I should have been able to tell he was lying, but he was so scared that I figured he was just nervous. It's my fault!" Vladimir was flustered beyond words. For a second he just stammered, shocked that he would lose his comrade and the mission itself like he did.

“Well, even if your mission wasn't a bust, we did get some information out of it. Neurotek has operatives in Russia. Were any of them PKs?”

“No... Well, I'm not sure. They were armed, but I wasn't attacked by anything psychokinetic. I have a feeling that it was a low priority set-up, and they were just taking a chance. I suggest you send a team to go scout out that village, see if they left a trace.”

“That's exactly what I'm going to do. I also have a new objective for you.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You're to rendezvous with other agents from our Western friends in Paris. The top brass has decided to put together an elite strike force for the upcoming raids, and you've been selected. I need you there in three days. You don't need some time off, do you?”

“No, sir. I will leave immediately.” Vladimir retrieved his coat and made for the door.

“And Vladimir...”

He spun around to meet his Director's stare.

“Be careful this time.”


[/hr]

Table of Contents

  • 1.1 Intro
    1.2 Intro
    1.3 Intro
    1.4 Intro
    1.5 Intro
    1.6 Table of Contents/Rules
    1.7 Psychokinesis
    1.8 Classes
    1.9 The Current Situation
    1.10 Bio Format/Character List

Rules

  • 1. Follow all of the standard roleplaying rules: No autohitting, godmodding, failroading, metagaming, or autoplacement. Write posts to the best of your abilities using correct spelling, grammar, and punctuation. Respect all roleplayers on the thread.
    2. I am allowing both Bios and Nonbios (though I prefer nonbios), simply because this kind of thread is well suited for Bios. ALL Bio or Nonbio submissions MUST be posted on the RPD so that they can be approved by me. I'm not setting a minimum requirement, but I expect to see quality.
    3. OOC on the thread will not be tolerated unless it accompanies an IC post. This being said, do not write an IC post for the sake of OOC. I'll always be on the RPD when I'm on, just contact me or each other there.
    4. I'm not instituting a post minimum, but I do expect quality posts, and I'd * like * to see at least 1500 a post, if not more. I do not have any rules against different post fonts or colors.
    5. Everyone is a human on this thread, no exceptions.
    6. Have fun!

Official Character Sheet

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Class:

Subpower:

Appearance:

Clothing(In combat or otherwise):

Weapons:

Personality:

Skills:

History:

Other:

Character List

Name/Age/Gender/Nationality/Class/Username

Vladimir Retuski/27/Male/Russian/Mover/Joepresty111


[/hr]

Psychokinesis

Psychokinesis is the metaphysical interaction between objects or the consciousness. It was discovered by Russian scientists or experimented on the mind by stimulating areas that are not normally used as often. This also encouraged the growth of neurons to the point that they were able to be manipulated and controlled. Only after unlocking the Secret of the Mind can humans wield this deadly weapon, and the sacrifices they make can sometimes leave them unfeeling or even insane.

This force is now implemented by many of the world powers as an arms race of the mind ensues, governments vie for control over the most Psychokinetics, or “PKs” - as slang dictates. This is all taking place while the oblivious population of the world goes about their day, making the upcoming war an underground affair.

Psychokinesis is separated into two categories: Physical and Mental.

Physical Psychokinesis involved the manipulation of kinetic and potential energy. Users can transform potential energy to kinetic energy, release pure kinetic energy, drain kinetic energy, manipulate either form, and other potent abilities. Physical Psychokinesis drains the energy of the user quickly, so moderation is important for beginners.

Mental Psychokinesis is the more invasive form of PK. It involves the User’s mind penetrating the target’s conscious or subconscious; prying for information, tricking the mind, or even controlling it.

Classes

Psychokinesis manifests in humans in a variety of ways. Each special power has been isolated and categorized into a “class”.

Classes are as follows:

Mover

A Psychokinetic who can use telekinesis, or the metaphysical movement of matter using the mind. Movers are the most basic of PKs, and handle most blunt, pawn work. Even though they aren’t considered overly powerful in the average user‘s hands, with the right training, they can become nearly unstoppable. Movers only have influence on other objects, they cannot ‘create’ kinetic energy.

Pusher

These PKs are capable of releasing pure, unrestrained energy, creating a wave, shape, or tunnel of raw “push”. Their moves are straightforward and immensely powerful, although large moves drain their energy quickly and can be difficult to contain. Depending on power, Pushers can break through wood, brick, and even metal.

Armor

Armors are rare and thus highly coveted, especially because of their unique ability. By using an extremely stable form of projective mental energy, Armors are able to form pure shields of this energy, most of which are able to withstand heavy blows. In their earliest stages, Armors are only able to project a wall of about the size of a regular human’s body. But with training and experience, the most powerful users are able to shield entire buildings.

Mercury

A Mercury is able to hone in on the thermal energy in their surroundings - because thermal energy is just another form of kinetic energy - and manipulate it. They can raise or reduce the temperature around them, even at drastic levels with the right practice. Mercuries, however, can only affect the temperature in an area around them, however, and may end up harming themselves if they aren’t trained properly.

Reader

A PK that can read into each and every thought somebody has in their head, even being capable of digging for memories that were long forgotten. They can also communicate telepathically. Readers can reach their target from long distances, miles away, so long as they have the current location of their subject. Expert readers can even change the mind's chemistry, creating or destroying memories, making lies into truths. However, this extension of power does not have the normal range of a reader, because to do this, the Reader must have eye contact with the victim.

Sprinter

A Sprinter is one who taps into their own molecular kinetic energy and uses their abilities to enhance their bodies to move at inhuman speeds. Be it from running, to punching, to basically anything that involves physical movement of their bodies. A highly trained Sprinter is capable of moving faster for a longer duration.

Puppeteer

Puppeteers are most likely one of the most powerful users in the Psychokinetic program. They have the ability to actually infiltrate a weak-minded individual’s consciousness, and control them. With practice, Puppeteers can control multiple bodies. Puppeteers are extremely uncommon and rarely reveal themselves for fear of government manipulation.

Seer

Though not useful in combat, Seers are usually sought after by factions, wanting control over as many as possible so they can stay a step ahead of their rivals. Seers have the useful ability to foresee the future through anagrams, prophecies, drawings, and other unorthodox means of communication. They are normally teetering on the edge of insanity, however, because of the horrific things they sometimes see.

Leech

These types are flawed in that they don't have constant or consistent control over their abilities, they rely upon stealing another variants ability and using that. A higher trained Leech can maintain a leeched ability for much longer, normal a leech can only maintain an ability for roughly an hour.

On occasion, psychokinetic powers commonly attributed to specific classes of psychokinetics manifest in individuals who would not normally wield them. Deemed "subpowers" in common parlance, their developmental ability and raw strength is often lessened when in the hands of a psychokinetic whose powers do not typically encompass them, but with training can still be employed effectively.

NOTICE: Class suggestions ARE welcome! Talk to me on the RPD about them, and if they're acceptable, I'll add them to the list.

The Current Situation

The world is in an unknown turmoil in this day and age. Every prominent country has trained their own private army of Psychokinetics. Closed door political meetings have escalated into mysterious murders in the oblivious public’s eyes. Strange, horrible things are happening in the world as loose-cannons break free from their government shackles, and no one can explain it. The secret is almost out…

To make matters worse, a freelance Psychokinetics research facility given the name Neurotek - which is operating under the false guise that it is working for a cure towards neurological diseases - has developed a strain of PK enhancing serum. They are violating every human right and dignity, experimenting with Psychokinetics in the most gruesome of ways. Recent intelligence suggests they have relocated themselves to remote parts of Brazil.

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Good premise, though I must ask: I take it this is non-canon to the rest of the forum, correct?

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Name: Ryan

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Nationality: American

Class: Pusher

Subpower: Seer (He has a very limited view into the future, maybe a second or 2 if he gets lucky. He can't always use his Seer powers though, and they can randomly not be accessed for days on end)

Appearance: Ryan is above average height. He has blue eyes and brown hair, and is pretty strong/athletic. He always seems to appear Laid Back and in a mood of happiness.

Clothing(In combat or otherwise): Otherwise: Normal Clothes, shorts, pants, shirts, etc. Varries on weather. In Combat: Same as always

Weapons: His own body has been one of his greatest weapons, along with that he usually will have a single Double Sided Katana or a Bo Staff, he also has a pack of Throwing Needles with him, like throwing knives, but much slicker and faster.

Personality: Has that feel of a Know-It-All, but knows when to accept when he is wrong. He is usually a happy, yet serious person and will be ready for most typical issues that arise.

Skills: Martial Arts, Strength, Smart.

History: Discovered he had the ability to be a Pusher only at the age of 18, and between then and now, is yet to master his skills. He always tries to better himself, but as he works he usually only sees minimal improvement. He discovered them one day when he was in a fight, he was losing the fight and he decided to start running, he managed to get far enough away that he could hide behind a tree, he knew it wouldn't last long though... He could hear the kid coming, step by step. He then peeked around the tree, saw him. He doesn't know why, but, he pushed his hand at him. It wouldn't reach him, but suddenly the boy was thrown to the ground. What happened?! he thought. Was that from me??]/i], He decided he wasn't going to wait to find out, he then took off for home to wait and try to figure out what had just happened.

Other: I'll be a Neurotek ((Spelling))

((OOC: This app still stinks, but, I don't have very much time.))

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Name: Xavier Tolstoy

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Nationality: Russian

Class: Armor

Subpower: Reader, he can tell what people are thinking of at one moment but cannot delve deaper and find amy random information he might need the subject isn't thinking of currently

Appearance: Short, about 4' 3", looks like a lumberjack, though he is not very strong, he is able to run extremely long distances. He has dark green eyes and black hair.

Clothing(In combat or otherwise): Black trench coat is preferred with cargo pants and a normal t-shirt underneath.

Weapons: Dual swords

Personality: Methodical, observes, finds weaknesses, then attacks, though he is a sucker for big shiny things [a big shiny mirror for instance]

Skills: Intelligent, can build almost anything, he just needs the right tools.

History: When Xavier was 14 he got into a fight with a bully at school, the bully whipped out a knife and attempted to stab Xavier. Xavier fought back as much as he could, and though he was defeated and knocked out at the end of the fight, he came back to school the next day with almost no sign of the fight the day before. He couldn't figure out why this had happened but after a few years he figured out how to control his shield and thus he has nearly perfected the technique.

Other: He is a great euphonium [stupid spell check thinks euphonium is spelled incorrectly :evil: ] player

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((Haha, I did write the thread after I watched the movie Push. I guess the classes kind of gave that away... However, this thread isn't a fanfic and will not follow any kind of canon storyline, theme, or use any canon terms or ideas.

I like more detail in bios, but I guess it's about as good as it's going to get for a budding roleplay forum. I'll accept them.

Note: Subpowers are like a secondary class, but much weaker and they usually exhibit a specific part of the class. For example, Vladimir is a Mover, but his Subpower is a form of the Pusher, as he can sense and identify emotions in people.

Now that we have two people, I'm willing to start the thread. This does not mean, however, that people should stop posting bios! I highly encourage a few people to apply to fight for Neurotek, as it always makes it more interesting (and means I don't have to control as many Neurotek NPCs.

EDIT: Almost forgot. What nationalities are your characters? Nationalities are going to play a large role in this thread.))

It wasn't long after the Director had informed him of his new assignment had Vladimir Retuski packed his small amount of personal items and taken the first plane to Paris. He arrived in the capital of France not more than a day after he had received his objective. Russia had provided for him a spartan apartment in an obscure district close to the rim of Paris. The small condo was basic to the core: a fridge, a single bed, and a man-sized closet. The entire room couldn't have been bigger than a normal-sized garage. Vladimir did, however, admire the beautiful view of the artificially lit skyline as the sun sank below the sky. It put him at rest as he stood on the minuscule balcony, feeling the gentle breeze ruffle his short, blond hair. He felt that times would never again be like this, as if a major turning point in the story that was his life was about to unfold...

Vladimir felt tempted to crush his alarm clock as it loudly proclaimed that it was seven in the morning. Instead, he rolled over and tapped it with his fist, silencing the infernal but necessary machine. He sat up and rubbed his face, trying to rid himself of waking dreariness. He looked over to the clock for reassurance; yes, it was definitely seven. Vladimir stumbled out of bed and into the shower, where he washed up. First appearances were everything, after all. He threw on his best, bleached white shirt and a deep crimson tie, with a pair of dark, pinstripe slacks and a matching suit jacket. All in all, he looked professional and most importantly, he looked inconspicuous to the eyes of the public. Donning a pair of sunglasses - considering how bright it was outside - he tucked a pack of cigarettes in his back trouser pocket and left his room, from which he made his way down to the rental car that his friends back home had also arranged for him.

He drove on the old, cobblestone town roads until coming across a dense traffic of people, milling around the impromptu market which had seemingly sprung up over night. Deciding that there was no way he could simply drive through (or over) this crowd, Vladimir ducked his vehicle into the nearest alley and hopped out, quickly intermingling with the citizens who were buying their groceries. Vladimir spotted a weathered stand overflowing with freshly-picked, ripened fruit.

Withdrawing several notes from his pocket, he went over to the stand and motioned to a shiny apple, no doubt recently waxed. He picked up the apple and was making quizzical faces, asking how much it cost in English, seeing if maybe the man spoke anything but his native language. The aged standkeeper wasn't fluent, but he was intelligent enough to old up two fingers, denoting how much Vladimir was to give him. Putting the bills back in his pocket, he flipped the merchant a two-euro coin and walked on, munching on the crisp and juicy apple as he did.

Long after he had toured the rest of the local area, Vladimir had located the rendezvous point, a small, quaint cafe that was all but deserted. A waiter came up to him with a blank stare, asking if he would like an inside table or a table on the patio. As he was instructed, Vladimir opted for the latter, and thus he was seated. He now looked at his watch; it was nine o'clock sharp. Where his future companions could be, he had no idea. It was to be expected that not everyone would be as punctual as Vladimir, after all.

Something was quite strange about the emotions of the waiter who had seated him. Rather, something was strange about the lack of emotions. The waiter had none. Vladimir had picked this up with his secondary psychokinetic power: the ability to sense emotions or emotional changes or influxes. This waiter, however, was like a hollow shell. Vladimir now knew that he was being watched. But by who.

((Note: I'm not sure how you guys go about signaling dialogue and thoughts, but quotes mean speech and italics mean thought. Use whatever you like to communicate the two, but please inform me beforehand.))

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I'll work for the nt's I guess. I've always liked the darker side, i'll post a reply later when I get onto my main computer.

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((Please use OOC brackets or signal that you're in OOC when posting. Or, if at all possible, refrain from posting any OOC on the thread. Just use the RPD, that's what it's there for.))

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[[Ok, sorry, I'm used to using OOC: followed by the irrelevant post then IC: when you get to the actual post that's relevant to the subject]]

Xavier had risen at 6:30 AM. He knew he'd only have about an hour to locate the rebel's rendezvous point and stake it out. Xavier, dressed in his usual wear, stowed two throwing knives in an inner pocket and a small gun with one bullet in his front pocket, he would always have this small weapon for it was great for assassinations because it easily fit into the palm of his hand and though you had to be with in 10 ft of the target, that was easy enough for his techniques. Xavier was out on the streets of Paris walking, noting the wonderful day it was, the light rain had truly brightened up his day. Focus, don't let it get to you! Oh how he wished his ADHD wouldn't flare on a day like today, the day he was to kill the resistance.

Xavier stopped in his tracks, he heard the voice of a man thinking about late arrivals and a rendezvous point. Dammit! Where did it come from! His ability to read some minds could only be used at an instant so he couldn't always find the direction the voice was coming from. Xavier darted into a nearby ally and ducked behind a dumpster. He held his index and middle finger to his left temple and focused on all the voices around him. He knew if he could find the voice, he could locate the source. Strange, I can't... YES! that was the voice, now to pinpoint it...the cafe across the street, the man staring awkwardly at the waiter, that's who the target is! Right then, he knew the target knew Xavier was watching him so Xavier decided to evacuate the area quickly and quietly. He left the ally on another street and rang Neurotek to notify them of the rendezvous point so they could send a satellite to the exact coordinates to spy on the meeting. Xavier went into the building across the cafe and made his way to the roof. There, he set up his spying equipment for sound as the satellite would take care of visual. Xavier crept back down through the building and headed off to his hotel in a cab. His mission was complete, but whether or not the only member realized it or not, Neurotek would gain the knowledge it needed to complete the complete destruction of the rebels. [[are they rebels? What name should I use for their group?]]

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Ryan was fast asleep, dreaming about who knows what. I've got to figure the rest of this out, what is going on, how can we beat those rebels? he continued thinking in his sleep Oh wait! I've got it, all I have to do is... *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* Ryan, groggily, reaches over and hits the alarm clock. Eugh, time to get up....

He, very reluctantly, sat up on the side of the bed and said aloud to himself "Hmmm, every time before that dream gives me a answer, I wake up. Now, what is it I was supposed to be doing?" He got up and had gotten his stuff around, ready for anything. His Katana was laying, in its holster, on his table. Suddenly, a Director had knocked on his door. "I'm coming, just a second Sir!" Ryan opened the door only to be quickly handed a package and was told to get ready. No time for questions... What is going on now?? he had wondered. Oh well, time to get to work.

Ryan was sitting on his bed now, opening the package. It had read ((Idk how to mark it, I'll just use Italics and "")) "Your mission today, is to tail one of the Rebels and find out who he works for. This mission should be completed, if possible, completely undercover. No casualties. You are still a relatively unknown Neurotek to the others. Lets keep it that way for now. You have until 9 AM to get ready. Your target will be in the diner down the street."

Well, no time to waste, he quickly got his throwing needles in the correct spot and he set out, he figured I'll just watch the diner till it is time, its not like I have anything else to do right now. He started down the street, then quickly took to the tree line to hide. When he finally got there, he laid down and just watched the diner. To help pass the time he would try to read others minds quickly and see what happens. Then, he had finally arrived. He sat there ordering food. He tried to read his mind. It didn't work! He crept closer, slowly. He was in range now. He tried it again he found out his infromation Hmmm, so this guy works for the Russians?. That answers that.

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