Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie}

Cameo {RIP Charlie}
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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 7, 2014 13:24:56 GMT -5

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Jul 7, 2014 13:24:56 GMT -5

http://media-cache-cd0.pinimg.com/236x/fb/26/41/fb2641e02ab7d6019f82695cca1dac78.jpg

Charlie Solo
District: Two
Age: Eighteen

Since the age of eight there's always been one plan for this Blonde. Okay, maybe not quite one as she's constantly forming new plans, but one particular goal has stuck. Throughout these years a single purpose has been the reasoning for it all; returning back to her best friend's side. Break any rules necessary, and hope the next foster home they ship her off to will at least be closer to him. This strategy never being vocalized, though always fueling her. As time went on, and she remained on the distant side of the district, the crimes became less meaningful though. More natural as it forms into instinct to always do the opposite of what's right and expected. Somewhere in the back of her mind still always telling her that this is all for Jeran. But is it? Or merely an excuse for the personality and hobby she can't live without? It's hard to tell.

If it's all for Jeran, why didn't Charlie travel back to him on the day she turned eighteen? She's attempted the very journey before at an even younger age, and now that she's allowed, she doesn't? Can't blame it on maturing as she practically holds the same mindset as back then. So what is it? For now she claims it on sudden responsibility as she patiently waits to raise enough money to purchase buss fare. Could of done that long before, but apparently this responsibility just set in. Complete bull sh!t anyways as she doesn't even take the buss! It's much smarter to save the cash for entertainment, and that spark of responsibility is down the drain. Hitchhiking can't be that difficult, she's not one of those ugly careers. And on one random day she's finally making that trip she's been waiting ten years for.

Things have drastically changed to say the least. They're both practically adults now. Are they even going to be able to recognize each other? It feels as if Charlie's head is spinning with possibilities on what to expect. A bracelet being spun by one of her fingers around her scrawny wrist, as they fly by the open road. Is she making a mistake? He could very well not want to see her, hate her even. Why he would exactly she can't place together, but there's still a chance. A heavy sigh escapes from her lungs as her eyes go over the truck driver kind enough to give her lift. Probably transporting an empty load back to the train station in the main town. Doesn't really matter as he's not a perv and isn't even interested in a conversation. The silence is exactly what needs, or maybe she doesn't need as her mind continues to race.

Far too soon they pull up to Charlie's destination, and after a brief thank you and hop down she's slamming the door behind her. This place hasn't changed much, excluding the fact it looks a hell a lot smaller. With a bag slung around her shoulder she waists no time. To go make her greeting with the Ruzes now or hold off? Already she knows exactly where to go to get to their house, but for some reason her feet take her in the another direction. Would they of offered her up the couch just like before when she was even smaller? Probably. But she doesn't want to reunite with them that way. She can take care of herself now, even if it's finding an abandon home to take over.

Did the District get overpopulated while Charlie was gone or something? This far out usually held a lot more empty places, but it seems like lives occupy them all. Even further out it finally gets quiet, and the first house with unnecessary bordered up windows is taken. A knock isn't even given as she slides the back door open. Half-assed furniture, broken things, and lots of dust is the only thing occupying this place. Couple of sheets from past squatters, few cans of food that says they left recently. Couldn't be anymore perfect. Gratefully Charlie takes it upon herself to grab a can and help herself to what they clearly don't need anymore...if only she knew they left it for good, and weren't saving it for their return. Constantly she gets to ahead of herself, and immediately she sets her small portion of food down as people are obviously coming in.

"Crap." Charlie mutters as she stands up from the makeshift chair that's only a cushion. Guess they weren't just leaving a nice supply for the next squatters. And of course anger graces upon all their faces when they discover their unwanted guest. "Nice place you got here." She comments with a sly smirk as her heels clack against the old, squeaky floor. Straight up to the tall, bulky guy cause they're usually the leaders. "Mind sharing?" The question's more rhetorical as her pitch refuses to take the answer no. Height, size, none of that matters as long as intimidation is used, and Charlie has that one down.

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2014 13:40:13 GMT -5 by Cameo {RIP Charlie}

So Many Different Personalities

Anatra
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First rule of going on the run is: "Don't run. Walk."

Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 7, 2014 13:56:21 GMT -5

Post by Anatra on Jul 7, 2014 13:56:21 GMT -5

blah blah blah, Tom appears with group just came in from a scavenging hunt, stupid anatra overwritten the post instead of posting again so bad

"Pff."

"You hungry?" He offers her a piece of bread. Like hell he'd give her it, though.

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2014 15:10:58 GMT -5 by Anatra: im stupid and overwritten this post because dumb

Cameo {RIP Charlie}
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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 7, 2014 14:42:37 GMT -5

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Jul 7, 2014 14:42:37 GMT -5

Plenty of times Charlie has been faced with a slight rift. Nothing unusual, in fact she may even attract it to herself. Something about that fast beating heart screaming that she's headed for danger just intrigues her so. Fingers automatically stretching and binding together, as a tall stance is given despite her tiny frame. For some reason just giving off that she's capable of tearing down anyone in her way scares the majority of her enemies away, even when it's not true. Like now for instances as it's not a group of prissy chicks strolling through. No, that'd be far to easy and ironic given they'd have a much prettier house to attend to. But for no females to be apart of their little gang? Well not the best circumstance, though Charlie takes it with a high raised chin no matter what. There's no budge for the exit, only a casual walk up to the one that must be their leader.

So it's not the typical big, hulk man. This just makes things even more interesting. It doesn't take long for Charlie to spot the one in charge. Slightly shorter then the bigger ones behind him, but obviously the one the other's look to. A Pff seeps from his lips after she attempts to declare her stay. Least he's smart enough to know it really wasn't a question, the large one behind him probably wouldn't of. If only a few simple words was enough, because she can already tell by their faces there's no interest in leaving or even sharing. They did claim this place first, but it's not like Charlie's going to go by those rules. A hard stare is given as her arms across over her chest. How's this going to play out exactly? Cause she's not the type to give in easily and go find another place either. Hell no.

Bread is taken from the bag one of the other's were holding, and messily this guy digs into his meal as if every crumb didn't matter. Scavengers and squatters, how interesting. Still Charlie doesn't a flinch as she waits for him to finish. Of course there's always room in her stomach for food, and such a delicate bread would be amazing, but she knows perfectly well how to handle this situation. As if he was really going to offer her some. "I'm good." She declines as her eyes move up from the loaf to meet with his eyes again. "I already helped myself to your stash." A sarcastic grin is given, eager for the reaction from him and his friends. "Man, that soup was good. Cold and all. Would of been a lot better with that bread though." Why stop herself at this point? It's just getting good.

So Many Different Personalities

Anatra
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First rule of going on the run is: "Don't run. Walk."

Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 7, 2014 15:08:52 GMT -5

Post by Anatra on Jul 7, 2014 15:08:52 GMT -5

She's a tough one. There's a part of Tom that likes that, but also a part that hates it. A girl that is tougher than him, perhaps. He doesn't discriminate really, but his friends sure as hell will. He can't let it stand, he'll have to snap back with equal gauge. "I already helped myself to your stash." He raises a lip in distaste, brushing his tongue through his teeth, scraping off what little scraps of bread remain. His lips remain closed, he's not one to disgust. In fact, it's quite the opposite perhaps. He has that natural charm to him, but he wouldn't suggest it to be clear right now, in this light or lack thereof. "Man, that soup was good. Cold and all. Would of been a lot better with that bread though." He narrows his eyes in the slightest, sharing a moment of a glare with the girl, or maybe a woman in front of him. "She's good, mate. We should keep her." Marco says. He's selfish, more-so than Tom. At least Tom has a sense of character, Marco is just bloodthirsty and driven by what's between his legs. "Shut the fuck up, Marco. I'm talking to the lady." He pauses briefly, a slight laugh let out in a sigh also. "Lady. You're not a lady. Ladies don't steal." He rubs the side of his mouth with his tongue playfully, tilting his head up at the girl. "Tom just hit 'er, she's just a thievin' shit!" Says the fat one.

Tom turns around quickly and holds two hands up submissively. "One more word," He begins in a hushed voice. "And I'll seriously consider throwing somebody in the Evans' house." His eyes are fixed upwards, dismissing the thought of looking the others in the eye. The Evans' house isn't at all pleasant. Full of morphling takers and creepy smells. Nobody wants to resort to living with those guys, this gang is much better. However, it's all an act, a ruse to toy with the girl ahead of him, or behind him at the moment. "Tony, give me a light..." Tom says, getting a cigarette from his jacket's inside pocket. Tony comes forward and lights it and Tom turns around again to look the girl in the face. "You smoke?" He starts, but before she answers there's footsteps. Not the kind of people being stupid and running around, but formal boots. Boots. Slamming. Heavy boots. "Shit, Tommy! It's the whites!" A shorter one says. Tom looks a little too calm for the situation, but he just drops the cigarette that is only a third burned and steps on it casually. "Well boys, let's go. Grab what you can." He issues his orders, and the others take note and start grabbing things that were perhaps theirs; or at least theirs now.

The footsteps get closer though, and soon enough the bond that Tom thought he had with two of the guys seems to disappear as they scarper out of the building. They're off, faster than dogs - or cats running from dogs. "Fucking hell, they've got half the food!" The fat one says. He's next to leave. He's quick as anything if a Peacekeeper is behind him. The last one, Marco... Tom thinks he's by his side, and carries on packing some things into a bag. He turns to talk with him hastily; "Marco we-" He sees nothing. He's gone. "Fuck!" He spots the girl though, either she's not budging or she hasn't budged just yet. Tom just keeps packing things, small things like apples or cutlery. Anything metal, like screws or bolts. You can sell anything for money in this place.

Cameo {RIP Charlie}
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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 7, 2014 17:43:22 GMT -5

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Jul 7, 2014 17:43:22 GMT -5

Is it a fight that these boys wants? If so, then bring it. Not once has Charlie ever stepped down from one, no matter what the odds. Her scrawny arms just seem to always manage whatever's thrown her way. But if it's not physical violence that these guys crave? Well it won't be as fun, but she'd settle for that as well. One of them has found an interest in her unique attitude, her smirk shifting to a you know he's right instead of her i'll kill you right here and now sort of grin. Only this girl here can maintain an array of different smiles for any occasion. Marco here isn't given his desire for a female prop in the group though, but at least he simmers things down to a conversation. Darn.

Once again Charlie's eyes return to the head guy rather then silly Marco over there. Her head tilting slightly to the side with curiosity on exactly what they're talking about. Later she can make it clear that she's far from a lady. That is, unless they don't figure it out for themselves first. Which this leader dude does, sort of. Apparently ladies aren't suppose to steal, though she never remembers being given the handbook. Then again that whole lady role never suited her in the first place. "Well gosh darn, I was never told that rule." She sarcastically replies, her face contorting to look like she actually gives a duck. "That tittle doesn't really fit me either, don't you think?"

Never hit a lady, but what about a rude chick with a snappy mouth? Well one of Tommy's boys, of course not Marco, insists of the T-dog do just that. Bring it. "So what does that make you boys?" Charlie asks since it appears then they just came from a robbing run themselves. Looks like the pot's calling the grass green. The first thrown isn't given, complete opposite as Tommy here turns around to give a threat to his group instead.That friendly grin returning to the Blonde's face she realizes she's getting what she wants, or just what's best since she's always in desire for a fight. Oh well though, this works.

These guys take Tom's words as if he was their damn father. What it must be like to hold that much power. Charlie's always been able to get what she wants in the long run, scare off an entire pack of careers and all that shebang, but to control an entire mini gang? Something she's probably capable of doing yet has never had. Such a stand off between two very headstrong young adults, with one of them having a small army backing him up. Who will come off on top? A cigarette is lit before he turns back around to address her again. An offer for their situation is be expected, but all he questions is whether she smokes as well or not. Has he ever run into someone in their circumstance that doesn't fill their lungs with some sort of toxin? Not likely.

Occasionally, she was about to reply before the room goes silent with a noise they're all far too familiar with. That sound of those special types of boots clacking against pavement not to far away. Looks like they all have something in common as priority number one sets in for them all. Collect belongings and get the hell out of there. Having yet to unpack, only a couple steps are needed for her to have everything intact. Apparently Tom's close buddies aren't as loyal as they seemed because they all go running out like roaches discovered under a rock. For some reason Charlie sticks though, as if playing chicken with these Keepers to see just how far she can push it. Arms remaining crossed with a firm grasp on the strap around her shoulder, gazing down at the one that was just all high and mighty and is now scrapping anything he can off the floor.

Last one of his pals finally make a run for it, and for some reason Tom continues to pick up useless crap. Does he want to get caught? More importantly why the hell is Charlie sticking around like it's a competition for who's more daring? The keepers are getting closer, and in no time they're going to be caught like deer in headlights. "God damn it." She curses as she bends down to help him. Purposely making it obvious that she's placing his things within his bag. It's been made too blatantly clear that she's a thief. "Good luck." She mutters one last comment and gives him a small pat before hiking it up the stairs. Perhaps the keepers are already after the other boys and assume no one's left. Either way she longer has time to make a run for it, and hiding's her best and last option. Whether Tom makes that decision as well is up to him, but now she's going selfish.

So Many Different Personalities

Anatra
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First rule of going on the run is: "Don't run. Walk."

Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 7, 2014 18:14:50 GMT -5

Post by Anatra on Jul 7, 2014 18:14:50 GMT -5

"Well gosh darn, I was never told that rule." Her sarcasm rings a little in Tom's ears. She has a tongue, and she's using it. Tom likes it when a girl uses her...

"That title doesn't really fit me either, don't you think?" Tom doesn't shake his head, nor does he nod. He acknowledges her. He believes that if he were to know the answer it would be obvious, and if it were obvious he would be answering. "So what does that make you boys?" Now that, is an obvious question. "Survivors." He says with seriousness, but suddenly his tone changes. "Or something..." He looks around, his tone more humorous.

He was going to offer her a cigarette. She wasn't doing anything wrong. She was in the same position as they were, they just happened to cross paths. His friends maybe had less desirable traits, being too eager to judge her based on the facts, but Tom was ready to take a general risk with whoever this girl is. That's when the boots starting. The marching, whatever it is. It sounds awful. It's a sound almost like sirens. You know it because it sounds so distinct. Tom's friends practically abandon him. How he feels about that can't even be seen, he's in a zone. Not a good one; too focused. He isn't even aware that the girl is helping him until a few moments after she started and he just looks at her quickly. He was going to say thank you, but he doesn't know what to expect from her.

Who was this girl? Why was she helping him? It's because people in this kind of situation need help. Abandoning somebody isn't the way around this. You need to protect others so that one day, they can protect you. This girl isn't protecting Tom, she's picking up a few apples, and some scattered bolts that he'd dropped. She's helping. It takes him a moment. "Thanks." But the steps get closer. "Good luck." She pats him on the back, and off she goes. She must be going to hide.

I'll scratch your back, you'll scratch mine. That's what rings through Tom's head right now. He's stuck. Looking one way, at the fleeing friends jumping a fence, looking another with his ears at the sound of Peacekeepers approaching. Looking to the hallway to which the girl fled into. He has to choose which way to go, and which way to abandon. He'll likely not find his friends again, they've been by each other's side for a long time. He rarely goes home, sometimes months at a time. But then there's the risk of being caught. Why would he risk that? Then there's the girl. He can't let her stay in this house alone. He practically stalled her. He has... He doesn't know it, but it's guilt.

He takes a couple of steps in one direction; the door. He stops himself, and takes a deep breath as his hands become a little tighter. He turns, and he heads straight up the stairs as well. He goes into one room and he stays absolutely quiet. He's not entirely in it for this girl, he just knows that perhaps the Peacekeepers have found something else to follow. Another trail to catch. He's counting on that. Otherwise, he's well and truly screwed.

He can't tell if the girl is in the same room or not. He's alone as far as he knows. He's only eighteen. An eighteen year old, alone and in a house surrounded in danger. Not only is it abandoned, but it's about to get some visitors. The light is being blocked by boards on the window, and he can feel a cobweb by his face as he hides in an alcove in the corner of the room. The girl could be in the other one for all he knows. This is where the chimney is and it goes right up the middle of the room.

Tom is a survivor. He hasn't done anything wrong by trying to live.

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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 7, 2014 20:52:28 GMT -5

Post by Artemis on Jul 7, 2014 20:52:28 GMT -5

Brody was pissed.

To be fair, he was often pissed. What with still being a promotion away from non-commissioned officer, he was still very much at the bottom of the chain of command, he had been taken from his cushy post watching the town square to train some newbie that had fallen behind in Academy, and now... now he was up at some ungodly hour of the night because the graveyard watch needed backup to deal with some idiot kids squatting in an abandoned building. He already knew that if their parents were wealthy enough, they would essentially get off with a slap on the wrist and generally have wasted the Peacekeepers' time. If not, though... there were any number of things they could be charged and punished for.

And Brody was just pissed and vengeful enough to enjoy that idea, albeit perhaps a little too much.

Running on an empty stomach save for a drag of cold, god-awful coffee someone had left on the maker in the barracks common room, Brody and his 12-man squad approached a side door of the building as quietly as possible. No easy task, in heavy boots, armor, batons and a helmet that did no favors for their peripheral vision besides the night vision feature in the visor.

"Peacekeeper O'Rourke." His unit commander spoke over the comm system in his helmet; Brody signaled to the rest of the squad to halt while he received instructions.

"Ma'am." The throat mic made his speech almost entirely silent even with his helmet off. With it on, and especially with the one-way mirror of a visor down, it was eerily silent.

"Our surveillance cameras show 6 suspects entering the building. There are multiple routes they may take to escape when they learn of your presence; split up your squad and apprehend the trespassers. Remain vigilant, we don't know if they are armed. Lt. Bryce, out."

The comm went silent. Brody motioned for the squads to come to him; he unfolded a map of the facility, breaking off fire teams of 4 to cover all of the exits.

"Remember to keep your guard up, your eyes peeled, and to check your six." He reminded the groups as they swept the building. As quiet as the throat mic was, for the sake of stealth they tried to maintain as much radio silence as possible. Ma'am didn't put anything by anyone, and he knew all too well that the booters talked way too much anyway. Best to keep them quiet so they didn't clog up the channels with their menial shit.

Even if they managed to keep their mouths shut, their stealth needed a great deal of work; by the time Brody's fire team made it to the floor where the squatters were hiding out, half of them had already scattered having heard some idiot's clomping, marching-drill footsteps. There were still a few in the room though, and Brody's team needed no further instructions: apprehend the trespassers. One guy is frantically throwing junk into a bag, and another boy and girl are high-tailing it for the stairs. In no time at all, the fire team coming up the stairs opposite from their entrance intercept them; it's obvious by the surprised shrieks they make followed by the all-too familiar sound of someone having their entire person slammed face-first against a wall to be cuffed. The guy with the bag reacts much too late; two of the Peacekeepers in Brody's team slammed into him hard enough that he was almost positive they had KO-ed their target. He motioned for the third member on his team to collect the bag; he was interested to find out what was so valuable that the guy had decided to keep packing rather than run for it.

"Fire teams, report." Brody radioed out.

One by one, each fire team reported their results; all 6 had been captured.

"Back to headquarters, then."

This was going to be a long night.

Last Edit: Jul 7, 2014 20:53:35 GMT -5 by Artemis

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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 8, 2014 22:29:20 GMT -5

Post by * on Jul 8, 2014 22:29:20 GMT -5

A new mission. For Jeran, it meant everything. Instead of keeping the subtle remarks from his roommates still teasing him about shooting the last partner he had, this was a new day. A new mission to show what he's worth to the commanding officers in charge of his points and position in this academy. Tonight's mission was crucial to show that he wasn't a trigger happy person. At least with Matthew out of the way, this would be an easy catch. Assembled with a large crew, the night raged on into darkness with only the moon and stars to light the night sky. Still, that didn't effect the tools used for the job. With the help of the night vision feature, it was sure to go smoothly. Why wouldn't it? It seemed to be an easy in and easy out task force. There wouldn't be no need to go into much of a fight, so what vision was given through the visor would suffice.

If only it were that easy.

"Our Surveillance cameras show six suspects entering the building..." Jeran's hand moves to the side of his helmet, then to the gun that he holstered to his side, ready to aim at a moments notice. Watching for the leader of the group, he awaited instructions, falling in with the plans as the map was unrolled and was shown where to go. With instructions to watch their backs and the ones of their teammates, Jeran's head nodded a definate yet, then became still as the groups were split up. Silence overtook his com and he wasn't about to say a word anyway. He followed behind the other cadets that were much more experienced then he was. With easy steps, he followed closely, flanking the guy in front.

In no time, the moment the door is opened, the scene is split open for them to see. The last few people that were late getting out was taking their precious time as the leader in his squad motions to the stairs inside of the house. Quickly, they move upstairs, cornering one of the suspects. Jeran's quick movements didn't allow for the one man to escape as he held off the only exit. Just as quick as it had started, it was over. There were no more squatters to be captured and with the confirmation to head back to the academy, Jeran's mission was over just like that. Just part of a team with no real surprise in the attacks. A fairly easy mission as one of his teammates escort the man downstairs, leaving the supplies from one of the other suspects.

"Cadet. What are you doing?" His teammember asks, putting a hand to his shoulder, clamping tight on it to get the young soldiers attention.

"Checking the back for illegals. They needed the bags for something other than living, correct? Orders are always to check for evidence." Jeran explains calmly, allowing the gun in his hand to be put back on the holster on his hip as he bends down to search inside the bag. Moving quickly, he noticed some of the basic essentials, but he quickly uncovers two other things; Vodka and pills. With a shake of his head, he pulls the bag to a close, wrapping the strap around his finger as his teammate urges him to finish quickly and follow but something catches his eye. A simple woven band, completely worn out, but the color was not valid through the night goggles.

"This bracelet..." He mentions in a whisper before a teasing remark comes out of the guy on his team. Pocketing the familiar band, Jeran meets up with the squad leader and awaits direction. All the while, his gaze keeps going to the bracelet in his hands. "Where have I seen this before?"

"Ha! Jeran's in love with the evidence. Probably stolen. Stick it in the bag and we'll deal with it when we get back to base." A simple nod in agreement, but the peice of jewelry doesn't make it to the bag. Instead, it triggers a memory.

"Charlie?"

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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 9, 2014 15:13:40 GMT -5

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Jul 9, 2014 15:13:40 GMT -5

Thanks, now that is not something that Charlie hears every day. Whether it's directed towards or someone around her, the people that have occupied her life for the past ten years didn't use that vocabulary. Rarely does anyone do anything nice for someone else to begin with, and if they do it's usually out of owing a good deed to avoid using that very word. Manners and respect just comes differently for some people. Would Charlie ever use that word? She hasn't lately given the circumstance, but she was taught to for the first eight years of her life. That decency from the Ruze family is still hidden somewhere within her, and apparently another half-assed district two citizen maintains a little as well. If only this was the time to exchange life stories, and there's not even a proper response to be given. Only a quick smile before she's in the mode of saving her own ass.

Keepers are right on their heels, that's for damn sure. There's hardly even a second of consideration to making a full run for it before she's deciding that playing hide n' seek with them is a much better strategy. Up to the second level to buy her some more time, but as she's turning a corner into any room possible the sounds of those horrible boots climbing the stairs quickly draws closer. Crap, they're already expecting more then just the kids that made a run for it. Only the darkness is on her side as no perfect hiding spots come into view. No furniture to take shelter in, and even worse the lack of time to plan for this as the Keepers are already far too near. Disturbing noises of others getting captured pumping up her adrenaline to get anywhere but out here in the open.

Instinct kicks in as she crawls under a bed structure with only a box-frame covering the wooden planks on top. Quickly shifting from her stomach to her back and checking that all her limbs are covered. As heavy as her breathing is at this point she forces it down to avoid any suspicion, even if it has her lungs screaming for more air. The unwanted footsteps become louder and louder as the Keepers go through their search. This stupid hiding space is not nearly enough. She's going to get caught, and she already knows it. What she doesn't know is how she's going to handle it? Plenty of times she's escaped from their grasp, just never this deep like an abandon home that's not as easy to get out of. That terrible clicking and clacking comes straight into the room, followed by another set. Shit, how many guys did they bring?

They travel around the room slowly, as if knowing that a suspect is in here and they want to drag on the suspense until she's practically ready to give herself in. If only they knew who they were dealing with. Because Charlie would remain frozen and silent in her spot all night and tomorrow if it came down to it. Eventually they make it to checking the obvious place of under the bed, and before she knows it a hand is grabbing onto her wrist and yanking her out. Immediately she's trashing and clawing though it's really no use with their heavy guard uniform. Grasping onto any part of the bed frame as a last result, like they're actually going to leave her there because of her effort. Scratched up hands are cuffed behind her back, and still she's giving her all to get free. There's no giving up till death wins, right? Well unless it becomes against her will, then she really doesn't have a say, does she?

It takes two of those damn Keepers to restrain her enough from breaking through those stupidly thick uniforms so she can tear apart the softies inside. How she'd love to be matched with these two boys in a ring without their protection...or girls given she can't even see their faces. Either way she'd rip them to shreds easily if they lacked their advantage. "Looks like we got a fighter." One comments with a laugh since they've finally gotten her to cooperate sort of. Wouldn't necessarily say cooperate, but those Keepers like to use them nice sounding word.

"Damn right." She spits back since her words are now the only thing she's able to use. Cuffed hands behind her back makes her useless, and kicking the white metal coating them even more so. Not the first time she was actually caught, she'll make it through this. They backtrack down the stairs like a bad final episode to cops and robbers, because in this case the thieves should of won. Then again this is no happy ending movie.

So Many Different Personalities

Anatra
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First rule of going on the run is: "Don't run. Walk."

Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 9, 2014 16:59:27 GMT -5

Post by Anatra on Jul 9, 2014 16:59:27 GMT -5

It's dark. There's a silence for a moment. It's an eerily quiet which feels like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and it was in limbo. Tom's silence is bought by his nerves, which are buying the fear of being caught. Peackeepers are relentless, no matter who they find. Tom could have been an old woman and they would react the same.

To say that he has been overwhelmed would be an understatement. He was isolated in that room. They come in and grab Tom by the scruff of his neck and care little for the situation. His heart rate snaps, bringing a sweat to his forehead. Why resist? He knows from the stories that if you even try, you're just going to make it worse for yourself.

He submits entirely. He doesn't want to. He has no choice. He's dropped the bag that he had, it's gone. Somebody else must have taken it now. The depth of the white suit brings up a hatred inside of Tom; but he won't be missed. If this is the last that he sees of the outside world, he knows that nobody he knows will be very bothered by his departure. He's not at all loved by many people at all; maybe some of his friends. He's never loved anybody else, not truly. His mother has always been a bitch.

But still, he submits. He may have nothing to lose, but that's just it; losing would be too difficult.

Artemis
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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 10, 2014 16:46:32 GMT -5

Post by Artemis on Jul 10, 2014 16:46:32 GMT -5

And just like that, the only part of this mission that could be considered fun was over. What recruiters liked to leave out (and Academy liked to rub in) was that after raids, arrests and stings, there was paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork. Processing the suspects and potential evidence, logging the arrest, filing paperwork related to their crimes, etcetera etcetera. With any luck, since Brody was the most senior member of the squad (which wasn't much, but it was something) he would get to ~~harangue~~ guard the suspects and foist the paperwork off onto the newbies. If he was very lucky, he might get to be present for the interrogation; Brody very much looked forward to having the rank and the seniority to become an Interrogations Officer. While that certainly wasn't the most prestigious of Peacekeeper qualifications, it was one that earned a great deal of respect.

Or maybe it was fear. Brody didn't particularly care either way.

And of course, there was the added bonus that nobody, nobody could get away with lying to you. He'd been on the receiving end of such questioning in Academy, just like everyone else was, and as much as Brody had hated how much the woman interrogating him had made him squirm... he craved having power like that himself. Even superiors only had so much power if they were caught in a particularly delicious lie.

Thankfully, the fact that there were around-the-clock shifts at the station meant there would be fresh coffee to make this night somewhat more bearable.

"All fire teams report back to the entry point." He said into the comm, directing the rest of the Peacekeepers to reconvene at the gate they'd entered the facility through, "Collect all evidence and make sure the suspects are secured."

With that, he motioned the rest of his fire team to follow; there would be a police vehicle on their location in just a few minutes after receiving his signal that the mission (was it really big enough to be called a mission?) was successful and completed. Out front, most of the suspects seemed fairly subdued, either knowing that struggling wouldn't help their cases or resigning themselves to the fact that they were outnumbered and outgunned. The female, however, apparently still had some fight in her. Brody rolled his eyes.

"Private Scoria, are you going to need backup?" He asked the male of the two Peacekeepers restraining the female suspect, only half kidding; he wouldn't be surprised if she tried to take a swing at someone's family jewels. "Or do you think you can take her yourself, Cephas?"

The female Peacekeeper, Private Cephas, pretended to consider.

"I can handle it myself, but I think she'll bite me and give me rabies."

Brody snorted at her comment.

"Probably. Private Scoria, trade posts with Cadet Stennis."

Cameo {RIP Charlie}
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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 11, 2014 17:50:18 GMT -5

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Jul 11, 2014 17:50:18 GMT -5

So many of those damn Keepers. Once downstairs and out of the house, along the side of the road with the rest of their criminals, a headcount of them can actually be taken. Thirteen sets of hard uniform blocks the faces of supposedly other citizens, though robots have a better ring to it. Hardly over the two to one ration, man they're getting heavy patrol lately. New recruits? Most likely, which is easy for the blonde female to notice given her many encounters with these ass holes. Some kids are taking shelter and they send an entire squad, but the Capitol kills twenty-three of those very kids publicly every year and they sit back and do crap. How ethical. And they wonder why rebels like Charlie were created.

It still takes two people to maintain control of her, because every slim moment of a slightly loosened grip she takes. One time before she managed to escape from them this far into it, even if they did catch her the next day. Take any opportunity because the outcome is always uncertain. Somehow they manage her though, and one even adds in a few sly comments with another that must be the guy in charge. "Good thing you have that ridiculous uniform." Charlie gives a remark of her own to the situation. As if she could possibly bite through their protection, though the rabies may be very plausible. With a harsh shove she's pushed to the transportation, where no windows are provided to avoid any hints of where they're going.

What has Charlie gotten herself into this time? A dull, blank room with obnoxious lights is all that joins her for what feels like days. Hands locked behind her to the uncomfortable chair she's been placed in. This is actually worse then torture. That she can handle. But utter silence until she's disturbed by a loud noise that prevents her from slumber is truly the real torture. They can't know that though. Her new job is making sure they think the opposite of how she feels. Well until a lie's no longer an option. Only one person comes to visit, with the most outrageous question at that to.

"A Keeper?" She laughs in his face, wanting nothing more then to evoke rage to distract her from this boredom. "I'd rather die in here." Sadly not even a punch or a word follows as the guy walks out with the same blank face he came in here with. More isolation and silence. Maybe they really are going to leave her in here to just whither away. After a while Charlie's actually certain of that, until the door finally opens again...

((OOC: Marr said she's going to hold off on posting until Jeran comes in again))

Last Edit: Jul 11, 2014 17:50:53 GMT -5 by Cameo {RIP Charlie}

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Anatra
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First rule of going on the run is: "Don't run. Walk."

Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 11, 2014 18:17:32 GMT -5

Post by Anatra on Jul 11, 2014 18:17:32 GMT -5

Why was what Tom was doing considering wrong? He was living. Everybody has a right to live, don't they? Why is it that because he was caught this one time, that he will now likely face what he would prefer not to mention; death. He has a fear inside of him that he will reach such an end, stupid and brief. Nothing dramatic, just like spraying a fly. One spray, slow death. That's what this is. He's been sprayed, now he's just waiting to die. It's a finality. He thinks to how much he would prefer to live. The imagery of blood running through his veins becoming more and more appealing to the opposite; cold and frozen blood, blue as a warm midnight sky, and dotted with the bulletholes of a shooting. That's how it will likely be. Publically, as well. It's a shame, he was on a roll.

There's no words said as the peacekeepers throw him into the back of the truck. Even there, there are no words said. That's because there's nobody there, not to him. He doesn't have anything to say to anybody else who is in there, if there are any people. He's not looking at them, he's just looking forward. He can't speak to anybody right now, because he's just been sprayed.

As he gets out, he can feel the eyes on him. Wherever they are, there's peacekeepers everywhere. It's just as he had expected.

He was in the cell for days. Rotting, not really. What is this? He has no idea. He got a meal at every sixth hour excluding sleeping time. It was terrible food, but it was food and the likes of which he was used to already. The cells were see-through entirely, in that they were just bars. This was clearly temporary. There's not many in the cells, but the ones that are look freshly input.

Whatever passed between then and now, Tom has no idea how he was convinced. The last thing he wanted to be doing was wearing the colours of the enemy.

White isn't even a fucking colour.

There's no scratches on his face, no bruises. He doesn't looked deathly tired and his eyes are still awake with that charm they have. But charm is invisible here, just like a voice is hushed. He's guided to the door to which he doesn't know what resides behind.

A turn of the handle reveals somebody in which he didn't expect; That girl.

He knows. They're going to make me hurt her.

Artemis
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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 11, 2014 23:27:55 GMT -5

Post by Artemis on Jul 11, 2014 23:27:55 GMT -5

Thankfully, Brody and his squad had been permitted to go back to bed once their part of the mission was over; apparently, the officer in charge of the station had other plans for some of their new inmates, and their services weren't going to be needed for a few more days. Which, from what Brody knew, could mean a number of things. Sleep deprivation was a favorite tactic to get information from prisoners, but it typically took a day or two of little to no sleep before most people were willing to crack; it was also how they recruited Peacekeepers from the side where people were faced with time in detention or death.

If it were up to him, Brody wouldn't share a military with anyone who had only joined to dodge the consequences of breaking the law. But as it were, he wasn't a general... yet. He didn't like placing limits on his ambitions.

Three days later, the Master Sergeant in charge of the station called him back in; just him, apparently. Maybe Brody was getting his wish, getting to observe or try his hand at interrogation. When he actually arrived at the station (immaculate as usual), the other Corporal sitting behind the front desk directed him to the back where the female prisoner from a few nights ago was holed up. The Master Sergeant wasn't present, but a PFC was keeping his eye on a weary-looking Peacekeeper Brody had never seen before; his hair was out of regulations and his uniform was poorly-fitted, he must have agreed to join the military in exchange for leniency. Brody didn't try to hide his disdain; it wasn't hard to pick out which Peacekeepers had volunteered and which ones had been voluntold.

They were looking through the one-way mirror at a white room, so glaringly, brightly lit that there would be no way the female in question --Charlie Solo, according to the file the PFC handed him-- would be able to go to sleep. The file in his hand was decidedly bulky, outlining countless misdemeanors on a record that apparently ran for more than just a year or two. The one that the Master Sergeant had assigned him to interrogate the prisoner about was an apparent theft a couple of years back; he wanted the names of all of her accomplices. This wasn't his first interrogation, but Brody was excited nonetheless. It wasn't often that non-staff NCOs got such a chance.

Brody finished his coffee (he'd seen rowdy prisoners knock over cups in the past, burning the Peacekeeper and ruining their uniform), entered the room, settled himself nonchalantly across the table from Miss Solo, and started in on the introductory questions.

"Have you been informed why you were placed under arrest?"

_{Shorter than expected, but I wanted to post something before bed}

Cameo {RIP Charlie}
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Fancy Meeting You Here {Brody, Jeran, Tom, & Charlie} Jul 12, 2014 18:16:21 GMT -5

Post by Cameo {RIP Charlie} on Jul 12, 2014 18:16:21 GMT -5

Well it's about damn time. Were they really considering leaving her in here until her body couldn't physically take it? Or perhaps a new torturing method. Either way Charlie's quite pleased to see that two Keepers have come for a visit. She's been working on some lines for them for a while now, and the sleep deprivation is making them especially entertaining. A soft chuckle escaping her lips from anticipation, growing louder and continuing longer then she expected when she spots her old-new friend being one of them. This has just become twice as interesting then she thought, erasing all of her old planned comments from before. Things have changed drastically now, even if she's not sure how yet.

By the looks of it this is no escape plan, unless they're both very good actors. How unfortunate. "Who'd you steal that uniform from T-dog?" Charlie questions with a wicked grin. She's smart enough to not use his real name, even if exhaustion is consuming her face. Heavy eyes with those wrinkles underlining them, and a over-tired expression all together. Doesn't mean her attitude's going to have any trace of it though. "You and your friend here breaking me out?" By the looks of it that's not happening in the least. Might as well give it a shot though. Wonder who this actual Keeper is, a uniform dressing him much more properly and addressing his seniority to this place even if he does look their age. Yeah, this is no prison break. Which only means...

"Guess not." Charlie scuffles with an eye roll that takes a lot effort. The real Keeper takes a seat as Tommy boy stands back. What are they going to make him do? He must of been given the same option as her, and choose the opposite from her. Never would of expected that, then again she hardly knows him. Guess she'll be learning a lot about him now. First though, she's given a chance to meet the fancy uniformed guy. Ten bucks says he's one of the Keepers that arrested all of them, and another ten that he was the leader of that squad to. And once he speaks she knows for sure, a smile returning to her parched lips.

So they do have her here for a specific reason. She probably can answer why to if she can go down the list, there's quite a few things she's gotten in trouble for that can be the reason for why she's being held. "I'm in violation of being too sexy, so you're keeping me here to make bags under my eyes to balance it all out." She gives her first prediction, with how ridiculous is it and all. "No?" Of course that's not it Charlie! How silly. "Okay, let me guess again." A request is given along with another giggle. "For being in that house?" She gives a more reasonable explanation, though it's probably all her other petty crimes as well. "Look I could of sworn those guys owned it." More bullshit as they obviously didn't, but this is too funny to pass up.

"Stil not it?" For someone the fact that hasn't slept for quite a while doesn't effect her wit. "Alright, fine. Tell me." Acting as if this is all a game when really she may be in a loud of trouble.

Last Edit: Jul 13, 2014 17:33:20 GMT -5 by Cameo {RIP Charlie}

So Many Different Personalities