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	=Log=		=Log=
−	<div></div><br> <br>The Classifed Report went out to those that were considered the most likely to survive the task before them. The Ideal group was requested to meet in the Lab Six area of Zypher, Inside there was a human in full military dress holding a Manlina folder.  He looks at those gathered, He didn't say a word as he waited for them to all gather his face was hard and his hair was grey and black. In the middle of the room was a photograph of a bleeding man with half of his face missing.<br> <br>Arano walked into the lab: Zephyr had sent him another job to do, only this one had a bunch of 'hush hush top secret' stuff attached to it. While he was no stranger to compartmentalization of information and other such hazards. So he got himself dressed in his uniform, applied camo-paint to dull the shine of his scales, and marched into the lab area. He knew why he was here: he was a bigass solar dragon with a massive gun - capable of doing whatever job was set before him but ultimately replaceable, an ideal merc really. On seeing somebody else in a uniform he instinctively came to attention, "Good evening sir," he stated out of old habits before finding himself a seat at the table, setting his rifle down next to him and waiting for the others to gather.<br> <br>Not long after Arano, a semi-formally dressed and somewhat large silver lion strolls into the Zephyr lab with a confident and shimmering smile upon his leonine muzzle. Perhaps not dressed very well for a potentially dangerous mission, at least he'd probably look quite well should they need to bury him in the near future. Upon his back clanks a somewhat large riot shield, more than likely scavenged somewhere out there in the wastelands. Perhaps not too great on stopping high powered rounds, it would help a bit when trying to get those pushy ferals to back off. But more curious is perhaps the feline just atop his shield and clinging to his back. Hopefully it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for the poor lady. He gives the human a short bow and soon takes a seat, placing his common looking shotgun upon his lap as he awaits his briefing. "Gentlemen," he nods.<br> <br>Cookies has her hands clinging to Dio's shoulder, feet pressed up against the riot shield as though she were riding it. She actually looks like she's kind of having fun, and that riot shield is bigger than her so she's not likely to make it budge any time soon, in fact vice versa if push came to shove. As Dio takes his bow the cat leans up a bit and offers a quick wave to the other folk. She was kind of looking forward to this, she felt like a secret agent or something, although the photo made her wince slightly. That certainly didn't bode well.<br> <br>Arimia slithers into the room, wearing her trench coat, various bits of tech able to be seen in the pockets, and a belt around her waist. Hanging from that belt is a a scabbard holding a thin, straight sword, a jian. She looks around at those gathered, then reaches into a pocket, pulling out a metal case. She pops it open and takes a hand rolled cigarette from it, bringing it to her lips, but not lighting it yet. She studies the photograph without any apparent shock or disgust. "Assuming that's a stiff, not a survivor. Or you'd have them here for us to talk to, instead of a picture to stare at."<br> <br>Run-run-run-run-LEAP! A wee figure no larger than the span of someone's hand springs up onto the table. The fairy-sized incubus scans about, a pair of goggles settled atop his head and decked out in a variety of gadgetry and gizmos aplenty. He's certainly got hoozits and whatsits gallore. From guns to performance equipment, Nutshell's decked out for whatever may come his way when he's arrived, even the grasshopper stilts on his legs to aid in moving as fast as, if not faster than, many who're twelve times or more his size. He knew why he'd been called in... he was a specialist with all things technical, proficient in fighting both within a bubble... and without a bubble. He didn't need no stinkin' thinkin' mutant powers.. he was a gadgeteer! Gandering over the photograph that was on display, the wee fellow squinted, scrutinizing the face, "Someone met the business end of something," in a piping, small voice.<br> <br>"Did they die outside of a bubble? Otherwise, I'd've thought they'd have regenerated."<br> <br>Pulling up the rear, the tiny plant walks in calmly, though a bit unsure about what she's getting into. Dressed in what resembles a robe crossed with a gilie-suit, her vined hair pulled back in a ponytail and her surprisingly large assortment of weapons, the minute flora soldier brightens noticably when she sees a few faces she recognizes. With this group she can only surmise the mission will be bloody. This is going be a great day. "Saviante here and ready sir." with this wispered comment the tiny flower salutes and tries hard to look imposing.<br> <br>The Man wastes no time in speaking, "I'm glad you all came, Time is of the essence so I will be brief. This is a classified mission, Any attempt to disseminate this information to the improper organization's will result in your imprisonment and possibly death by gullitone. Now that the that matter is spoken for I will introduce myself. I'm General White of the RSX Faction, I'm here as a liason to the Zypher coperations for this mission. This mission is critic for our shared interests so I'll get down to brass tacks. We have Reports of a nanite bubble in Redding, California. The behavior of this bubble is strange, The scouts report that its almost completely shielded from most outside eletronics. The bubble itself is said to be different than our own fairhaven bubble, The nanite saturation is much lighter, and yet everything inside that bubble seems to follow a strange rule. The soldier in the picture was taken from the bubble in this condition, one thing to note that whatever did this didn't do it from the outside...." He looks at the group, "Unlike him, you are all much more prepared for dangerous combat and unknown forces. We would like to warm you of this though, take nothing you have learned about Fairhaven to this bubble, The rules are different, powers of the scouts barely worked out there and someone is actively pulling the strings. If there are no question we would like to dispatch you as soon as possible while we still have an ideal of where the Server is. Redding is a city with a population just under 100,000 people, that can mean many many enemies so try to be careful. And off the record if they aren't sane, eliminate them with extreme prejudice. We have a helicopter on the top floor waiting for you all." He ends his report waiting for questions and spreading out the pictures of the dead soldier.<br> <br>Arano looked over the paperwork, he scoffed at the threat, "Good know RSX isn't a fan of overkill there General," he didn't know who the man was, but his initial deference vanished: not in the military anymore, so now respect has to be earned for him and he doesn't mind showing when he doesn't respect somebody... and right now he didn't respect the General, but he'll be glad to take his money, "You said whatever did this to him didn't do it from the outside, that implies something got inside the poor bastard's head somehow - will you be providing any sort of safeguards against unpleasant and/or lethal infections? Hazmats suits, perhaps some APCs that haven't been torn apart, just something to keep us from breathing in a lethal head-exploding nanite if that is what we're dealing with here?"	+	<div></div><br> <br>The Classifed Report went out to those that were considered the most likely to survive the task before them. The Ideal group was requested to meet in the Lab Six area of Zypher, Inside there was a human in full military dress holding a Manlina folder.  He looks at those gathered, He didn't say a word as he waited for them to all gather his face was hard and his hair was grey and black. In the middle of the room was a photograph of a bleeding man with half of his face missing.<br> <br>Arano walked into the lab: Zephyr had sent him another job to do, only this one had a bunch of 'hush hush top secret' stuff attached to it. While he was no stranger to compartmentalization of information and other such hazards. So he got himself dressed in his uniform, applied camo-paint to dull the shine of his scales, and marched into the lab area. He knew why he was here: he was a bigass solar dragon with a massive gun - capable of doing whatever job was set before him but ultimately replaceable, an ideal merc really. On seeing somebody else in a uniform he instinctively came to attention, "Good evening sir," he stated out of old habits before finding himself a seat at the table, setting his rifle down next to him and waiting for the others to gather.<br> <br>Not long after Arano, a semi-formally dressed and somewhat large silver lion strolls into the Zephyr lab with a confident and shimmering smile upon his leonine muzzle. Perhaps not dressed very well for a potentially dangerous mission, at least he'd probably look quite well should they need to bury him in the near future. Upon his back clanks a somewhat large riot shield, more than likely scavenged somewhere out there in the wastelands. Perhaps not too great on stopping high powered rounds, it would help a bit when trying to get those pushy ferals to back off. But more curious is perhaps the feline just atop his shield and clinging to his back. Hopefully it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for the poor lady. He gives the human a short bow and soon takes a seat, placing his common looking shotgun upon his lap as he awaits his briefing. "Gentlemen," he nods.<br> <br>Cookies has her hands clinging to Dio's shoulder, feet pressed up against the riot shield as though she were riding it. She actually looks like she's kind of having fun, and that riot shield is bigger than her so she's not likely to make it budge any time soon, in fact vice versa if push came to shove. As Dio takes his bow the cat leans up a bit and offers a quick wave to the other folk. She was kind of looking forward to this, she felt like a secret agent or something, although the photo made her wince slightly. That certainly didn't bode well.<br> <br>Arimia slithers into the room, wearing her trench coat, various bits of tech able to be seen in the pockets, and a belt around her waist. Hanging from that belt is a a scabbard holding a thin, straight sword, a jian. She looks around at those gathered, then reaches into a pocket, pulling out a metal case. She pops it open and takes a hand rolled cigarette from it, bringing it to her lips, but not lighting it yet. She studies the photograph without any apparent shock or disgust. "Assuming that's a stiff, not a survivor. Or you'd have them here for us to talk to, instead of a picture to stare at."<br> <br>Run-run-run-run-LEAP! A wee figure no larger than the span of someone's hand springs up onto the table. The fairy-sized incubus scans about, a pair of goggles settled atop his head and decked out in a variety of gadgetry and gizmos aplenty. He's certainly got hoozits and whatsits gallore. From guns to performance equipment, Nutshell's decked out for whatever may come his way when he's arrived, even the grasshopper stilts on his legs to aid in moving as fast as, if not faster than, many who're twelve times or more his size. He knew why he'd been called in... he was a specialist with all things technical, proficient in fighting both within a bubble... and without a bubble. He didn't need no stinkin' thinkin' mutant powers.. he was a gadgeteer! Gandering over the photograph that was on display, the wee fellow squinted, scrutinizing the face, "Someone met the business end of something," in a piping, small voice.<br> <br>"Did they die outside of a bubble? Otherwise, I'd've thought they'd have regenerated."<br> <br>Pulling up the rear, the tiny plant walks in calmly, though a bit unsure about what she's getting into. Dressed in what resembles a robe crossed with a gilie-suit, her vined hair pulled back in a ponytail and her surprisingly large assortment of weapons, the minute flora soldier brightens noticably when she sees a few faces she recognizes. With this group she can only surmise the mission will be bloody. This is going be a great day. "Saviante here and ready sir." with this wispered comment the tiny flower salutes and tries hard to look imposing.<br> <br>The Man wastes no time in speaking, "I'm glad you all came, Time is of the essence so I will be brief. This is a classified mission, Any attempt to disseminate this information to the improper organization's will result in your imprisonment and possibly death by gullitone. Now that the that matter is spoken for I will introduce myself. I'm General White of the RSX Faction, I'm here as a liason to the Zypher coperations for this mission. This mission is critic for our shared interests so I'll get down to brass tacks. We have Reports of a nanite bubble in Redding, California. The behavior of this bubble is strange, The scouts report that its almost completely shielded from most outside eletronics. The bubble itself is said to be different than our own fairhaven bubble, The nanite saturation is much lighter, and yet everything inside that bubble seems to follow a strange rule. The soldier in the picture was taken from the bubble in this condition, one thing to note that whatever did this didn't do it from the outside...." He looks at the group, "Unlike him, you are all much more prepared for dangerous combat and unknown forces. We would like to warm you of this though, take nothing you have learned about Fairhaven to this bubble, The rules are different, powers of the scouts barely worked out there and someone is actively pulling the strings. If there are no question we would like to dispatch you as soon as possible while we still have an ideal of where the Server is. Redding is a city with a population just under 100,000 people, that can mean many many enemies so try to be careful. And off the record if they aren't sane, eliminate them with extreme prejudice. We have a helicopter on the top floor waiting for you all." He ends his report waiting for questions and spreading out the pictures of the dead soldier.<br> <br>Arano looked over the paperwork, he scoffed at the threat, "Good know RSX isn't a fan of overkill there General," he didn't know who the man was, but his initial deference vanished: not in the military anymore, so now respect has to be earned for him and he doesn't mind showing when he doesn't respect somebody... and right now he didn't respect the General, but he'll be glad to take his money, "You said whatever did this to him didn't do it from the outside, that implies something got inside the poor bastard's head somehow - will you be providing any sort of safeguards against unpleasant and/or lethal infections? Hazmats suits, perhaps some APCs that haven't been torn apart, just something to keep us from breathing in a lethal head-exploding nanite if that is what we're dealing with here?"<br> <br>As the others promptly file into the room, he gives them all a respectful nod and removes the feline from his back and sets her down upon the floor. The lion needed a break from carrying all that extra baggage! Briefing flows through his leonine ears as they perk with interest, him leaning in to look at the picture and observe in compliment. "Outside of the bubble, huh? I've had a few missions in the such a condition. While I do use my powers here and there, I mostly look towards my equipment these days." He pats the shotgun upon his lap in emphasis and nods at Arano's questions. "Certainly a dangerous prospect we're heading in. Protection would be appreciated, but I'm sure we can handle what comes our way. Personally, I'm concerned as to who might be "pulling the strings" as you've put it."<br> <br>Cookies whines quietly as she's set down, listening carefully and letting out a soft sigh. Guillotines, huh? She was so very tempted to make a snark-assed comment but she knew better than to piss off someone who could make her day suck with or without harming her directly. An ear twitches in Arano's direction. "If you're worried about nanites I can switch on my radio pack but I can't guarantee that won't make life suck a little worse for us. For me, at least, I don't like how it feels," she murmurs out. "On the flipside, s'a good thing I swore off mutant powers a looong time ago." She nods confidently in a real hoity toity holier-than-thou sort of way, crossing her arms. "So why are we looking at the dead guy if basically all the info we have is 'Yep, that guy is dead!'? Kind of weird it only took that much, sure, but in-bubble deaths are far from unheard of and if mutant powers aren't working right it's within reason to assume that nanites responsible for keeping you together aren't going to play along too well either. Just saying."<br> <br>Arimia finally gets around to lighting her cigarette before saying to Arano, "That is only a concern for those of you who must breathe." She stares at the picture some more before continuing. "I am not sure how much use I will be, with limitations placed on my abilities. I would still have my blade, but that is the only weapon I carry. When I need to kill something my body has generally been sufficient, in conjunction with my sword. Further my technical abilities mostly stem from the NICE unit I had installed. I've some without it, but nowhere near as effective."<br> <br>"Have there been any attempts to suppress the nanites using NICE units at all? It might prove to be a life-saving asset in an area with oddly coded nanites," pipes the miniature figure as he strokes his chin with a minute hand. Nutshell looks about to the others collected about, "Anyone here have a NICE installed that can perform as much?"<br> <br>Saviante tries hard not to show how nervous she actually is, not remembering any other form she has become aquainted to her powers as part of normal life, not to mention her job. Sliding tow vines out from her robe, she takes the talons of the tips and mounts them on her wrists, in the off chance more than just her powers cease to work. "When the scythe comes the scythe comes." Savi whispers to no one at all and everyone at once. "We all get reaped eventually, might as well be for the right reasons. With another glance around she settles on the officer, expecting more.<br> <br>"Reguardless of what you think of my organization, Arano. We don't have many safe guards to the unknown. Gas masks will do little against nanite, We are unsure of what infections are about, the scouts reported mushrooms being a common sight in the bubble, APC and the like are completely useless due to the nanite in the bubble being programmed to strip the engines from any craft that enters. Otherwise we would have already just flown in with a team." He turns to Dio and nods, "Unlike this bubble where the rules and conditions are static, it seems that the other bubble can change on a whim. This is why we can't offer you much protection but this is too valuable of a resource just to leave alone or to just attempt to level the whole town." He takes off his hat and wipes his brow. "You must understand how big this find is." He turns to Cookie and points to particular part of the man skulls that missing, "I apologize, I forget that many of you are not RSX. This soldier is a hero and he died such a pitiful death so I wanted to push the message that this will not be a cake walk. I can't speak for the uses of NICE units none of our scouts have them." He presses on a intercom build into the table. "Get the chopper ready, We are sending them out." He looks at the group with a smile, "I'm not going to give you some speech about why you need to do it just understand this... Do not fuck up. The server is top priorty. Kill anything that interfears with that mission." He says before dismissing the group. On the rooftop a large tranport chopper takes the group in before flying to the outside of Redding, Californa. There is a strange sense in the air as the bubble is nearly invisible to the naked eye but everyone can feel the strain of the something being off in their bodies. The pilot smiles to them, "I won't leave here till you come back. If you can get to the Item and call me I'll land in the city itself to get you. " The pilot is a bunny boy dressed in a camoflauge uniform. He shuts the doors behind the group and waves from the window.<br> <br>Arano mutters to himself, "Bastard didn't even tell us what the pay is..." as he was suddenly hurried out the door. He was somewhat silent the ride over, checking his equipment, making sure his gun was in one piece. During the trip, he decided to strike up some conversation, "My name is Arano by the way... I know Dio here, and I know Savi, but I don't think I've met the rest of you," he says. After arrival, as they were hurried off the transport Arano had his weapon in hand and was sweeping the immediate area, checking for threats, that sort of thing.<br> <br>"I'm sure we'll get plenty of hush-hush money by the end of the mission, assuming we come back alive," Dio nods as he's shuffled out of the room. The lion gives his shotgun a good once over, making sure it's nice and loaded and ready to fire when need be. Satisfied, he gives a tuck at his suit and boards the helicopter and sleeps most of the way to the mission location. With a cough, he breaks from his nap and climbs out, combing down his mane and taking out his riot shield from his back. "I do have Anti-Nanomagic, but we shall see how things work without it for awhile. If it's not needed, then I shall not activate it as it does have a drain upon myself. If I do activate it, I'll need a bit of protection as well."<br> <br>Cookies stays more or less quiet the entire time, staying snuggled as close to Dio as she possibly can, the clingy thing. In answer to Arano, she cheerily pipes up, "The name is Monroe," she says with a confident smile, "First name Marilyn. Pleased to meet you." As they step out of the helicopter she looks around, stretching out a bit and frowning slightly. She takes a deep breath of the air and, waiting for her head to explode or something for a moment, she shrugs slightly and retakes her position next to the lion as always. "Mmh. Anybody else feel just a little off?"<br> <br>Arimia pulls out her cigarette case and takes another cigarette from it. She raises it to her lips and lights it before saying, "Feel off? Apparently I'm in the presence of an idol thought long dead. So what's a little oddity in the air next to that?" She draws her sword and looks around. Let's get to high ground. See the lay of the land from a bit closer than that chopper offered. And in regards to the pay, if they don't offer enough we take what we find elsewhere. They'll try to kill us for it, I'm sure. But things have been trying to kill me for a while. They haven't succeeded. Yet."

---

Revision as of 10:43, 28 August 2013

Participants

• Arano
• Arimia
• Cookies
• Dio
• Kilsa
• Nutshell
• Saviante

Date

28/8/2013

Log

The Classifed Report went out to those that were considered the most likely to survive the task before them. The Ideal group was requested to meet in the Lab Six area of Zypher, Inside there was a human in full military dress holding a Manlina folder. He looks at those gathered, He didn't say a word as he waited for them to all gather his face was hard and his hair was grey and black. In the middle of the room was a photograph of a bleeding man with half of his face missing.

Arano walked into the lab: Zephyr had sent him another job to do, only this one had a bunch of 'hush hush top secret' stuff attached to it. While he was no stranger to compartmentalization of information and other such hazards. So he got himself dressed in his uniform, applied camo-paint to dull the shine of his scales, and marched into the lab area. He knew why he was here: he was a bigass solar dragon with a massive gun - capable of doing whatever job was set before him but ultimately replaceable, an ideal merc really. On seeing somebody else in a uniform he instinctively came to attention, "Good evening sir," he stated out of old habits before finding himself a seat at the table, setting his rifle down next to him and waiting for the others to gather.

Not long after Arano, a semi-formally dressed and somewhat large silver lion strolls into the Zephyr lab with a confident and shimmering smile upon his leonine muzzle. Perhaps not dressed very well for a potentially dangerous mission, at least he'd probably look quite well should they need to bury him in the near future. Upon his back clanks a somewhat large riot shield, more than likely scavenged somewhere out there in the wastelands. Perhaps not too great on stopping high powered rounds, it would help a bit when trying to get those pushy ferals to back off. But more curious is perhaps the feline just atop his shield and clinging to his back. Hopefully it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for the poor lady. He gives the human a short bow and soon takes a seat, placing his common looking shotgun upon his lap as he awaits his briefing. "Gentlemen," he nods.

Cookies has her hands clinging to Dio's shoulder, feet pressed up against the riot shield as though she were riding it. She actually looks like she's kind of having fun, and that riot shield is bigger than her so she's not likely to make it budge any time soon, in fact vice versa if push came to shove. As Dio takes his bow the cat leans up a bit and offers a quick wave to the other folk. She was kind of looking forward to this, she felt like a secret agent or something, although the photo made her wince slightly. That certainly didn't bode well.

Arimia slithers into the room, wearing her trench coat, various bits of tech able to be seen in the pockets, and a belt around her waist. Hanging from that belt is a a scabbard holding a thin, straight sword, a jian. She looks around at those gathered, then reaches into a pocket, pulling out a metal case. She pops it open and takes a hand rolled cigarette from it, bringing it to her lips, but not lighting it yet. She studies the photograph without any apparent shock or disgust. "Assuming that's a stiff, not a survivor. Or you'd have them here for us to talk to, instead of a picture to stare at."

Run-run-run-run-LEAP! A wee figure no larger than the span of someone's hand springs up onto the table. The fairy-sized incubus scans about, a pair of goggles settled atop his head and decked out in a variety of gadgetry and gizmos aplenty. He's certainly got hoozits and whatsits gallore. From guns to performance equipment, Nutshell's decked out for whatever may come his way when he's arrived, even the grasshopper stilts on his legs to aid in moving as fast as, if not faster than, many who're twelve times or more his size. He knew why he'd been called in... he was a specialist with all things technical, proficient in fighting both within a bubble... and without a bubble. He didn't need no stinkin' thinkin' mutant powers.. he was a gadgeteer! Gandering over the photograph that was on display, the wee fellow squinted, scrutinizing the face, "Someone met the business end of something," in a piping, small voice.

"Did they die outside of a bubble? Otherwise, I'd've thought they'd have regenerated."

Pulling up the rear, the tiny plant walks in calmly, though a bit unsure about what she's getting into. Dressed in what resembles a robe crossed with a gilie-suit, her vined hair pulled back in a ponytail and her surprisingly large assortment of weapons, the minute flora soldier brightens noticably when she sees a few faces she recognizes. With this group she can only surmise the mission will be bloody. This is going be a great day. "Saviante here and ready sir." with this wispered comment the tiny flower salutes and tries hard to look imposing.

The Man wastes no time in speaking, "I'm glad you all came, Time is of the essence so I will be brief. This is a classified mission, Any attempt to disseminate this information to the improper organization's will result in your imprisonment and possibly death by gullitone. Now that the that matter is spoken for I will introduce myself. I'm General White of the RSX Faction, I'm here as a liason to the Zypher coperations for this mission. This mission is critic for our shared interests so I'll get down to brass tacks. We have Reports of a nanite bubble in Redding, California. The behavior of this bubble is strange, The scouts report that its almost completely shielded from most outside eletronics. The bubble itself is said to be different than our own fairhaven bubble, The nanite saturation is much lighter, and yet everything inside that bubble seems to follow a strange rule. The soldier in the picture was taken from the bubble in this condition, one thing to note that whatever did this didn't do it from the outside...." He looks at the group, "Unlike him, you are all much more prepared for dangerous combat and unknown forces. We would like to warm you of this though, take nothing you have learned about Fairhaven to this bubble, The rules are different, powers of the scouts barely worked out there and someone is actively pulling the strings. If there are no question we would like to dispatch you as soon as possible while we still have an ideal of where the Server is. Redding is a city with a population just under 100,000 people, that can mean many many enemies so try to be careful. And off the record if they aren't sane, eliminate them with extreme prejudice. We have a helicopter on the top floor waiting for you all." He ends his report waiting for questions and spreading out the pictures of the dead soldier.

Arano looked over the paperwork, he scoffed at the threat, "Good know RSX isn't a fan of overkill there General," he didn't know who the man was, but his initial deference vanished: not in the military anymore, so now respect has to be earned for him and he doesn't mind showing when he doesn't respect somebody... and right now he didn't respect the General, but he'll be glad to take his money, "You said whatever did this to him didn't do it from the outside, that implies something got inside the poor bastard's head somehow - will you be providing any sort of safeguards against unpleasant and/or lethal infections? Hazmats suits, perhaps some APCs that haven't been torn apart, just something to keep us from breathing in a lethal head-exploding nanite if that is what we're dealing with here?"

As the others promptly file into the room, he gives them all a respectful nod and removes the feline from his back and sets her down upon the floor. The lion needed a break from carrying all that extra baggage! Briefing flows through his leonine ears as they perk with interest, him leaning in to look at the picture and observe in compliment. "Outside of the bubble, huh? I've had a few missions in the such a condition. While I do use my powers here and there, I mostly look towards my equipment these days." He pats the shotgun upon his lap in emphasis and nods at Arano's questions. "Certainly a dangerous prospect we're heading in. Protection would be appreciated, but I'm sure we can handle what comes our way. Personally, I'm concerned as to who might be "pulling the strings" as you've put it."

Cookies whines quietly as she's set down, listening carefully and letting out a soft sigh. Guillotines, huh? She was so very tempted to make a snark-assed comment but she knew better than to piss off someone who could make her day suck with or without harming her directly. An ear twitches in Arano's direction. "If you're worried about nanites I can switch on my radio pack but I can't guarantee that won't make life suck a little worse for us. For me, at least, I don't like how it feels," she murmurs out. "On the flipside, s'a good thing I swore off mutant powers a looong time ago." She nods confidently in a real hoity toity holier-than-thou sort of way, crossing her arms. "So why are we looking at the dead guy if basically all the info we have is 'Yep, that guy is dead!'? Kind of weird it only took that much, sure, but in-bubble deaths are far from unheard of and if mutant powers aren't working right it's within reason to assume that nanites responsible for keeping you together aren't going to play along too well either. Just saying."

Arimia finally gets around to lighting her cigarette before saying to Arano, "That is only a concern for those of you who must breathe." She stares at the picture some more before continuing. "I am not sure how much use I will be, with limitations placed on my abilities. I would still have my blade, but that is the only weapon I carry. When I need to kill something my body has generally been sufficient, in conjunction with my sword. Further my technical abilities mostly stem from the NICE unit I had installed. I've some without it, but nowhere near as effective."

"Have there been any attempts to suppress the nanites using NICE units at all? It might prove to be a life-saving asset in an area with oddly coded nanites," pipes the miniature figure as he strokes his chin with a minute hand. Nutshell looks about to the others collected about, "Anyone here have a NICE installed that can perform as much?"

Saviante tries hard not to show how nervous she actually is, not remembering any other form she has become aquainted to her powers as part of normal life, not to mention her job. Sliding tow vines out from her robe, she takes the talons of the tips and mounts them on her wrists, in the off chance more than just her powers cease to work. "When the scythe comes the scythe comes." Savi whispers to no one at all and everyone at once. "We all get reaped eventually, might as well be for the right reasons. With another glance around she settles on the officer, expecting more.

"Reguardless of what you think of my organization, Arano. We don't have many safe guards to the unknown. Gas masks will do little against nanite, We are unsure of what infections are about, the scouts reported mushrooms being a common sight in the bubble, APC and the like are completely useless due to the nanite in the bubble being programmed to strip the engines from any craft that enters. Otherwise we would have already just flown in with a team." He turns to Dio and nods, "Unlike this bubble where the rules and conditions are static, it seems that the other bubble can change on a whim. This is why we can't offer you much protection but this is too valuable of a resource just to leave alone or to just attempt to level the whole town." He takes off his hat and wipes his brow. "You must understand how big this find is." He turns to Cookie and points to particular part of the man skulls that missing, "I apologize, I forget that many of you are not RSX. This soldier is a hero and he died such a pitiful death so I wanted to push the message that this will not be a cake walk. I can't speak for the uses of NICE units none of our scouts have them." He presses on a intercom build into the table. "Get the chopper ready, We are sending them out." He looks at the group with a smile, "I'm not going to give you some speech about why you need to do it just understand this... Do not fuck up. The server is top priorty. Kill anything that interfears with that mission." He says before dismissing the group. On the rooftop a large tranport chopper takes the group in before flying to the outside of Redding, Californa. There is a strange sense in the air as the bubble is nearly invisible to the naked eye but everyone can feel the strain of the something being off in their bodies. The pilot smiles to them, "I won't leave here till you come back. If you can get to the Item and call me I'll land in the city itself to get you. " The pilot is a bunny boy dressed in a camoflauge uniform. He shuts the doors behind the group and waves from the window.

Arano mutters to himself, "Bastard didn't even tell us what the pay is..." as he was suddenly hurried out the door. He was somewhat silent the ride over, checking his equipment, making sure his gun was in one piece. During the trip, he decided to strike up some conversation, "My name is Arano by the way... I know Dio here, and I know Savi, but I don't think I've met the rest of you," he says. After arrival, as they were hurried off the transport Arano had his weapon in hand and was sweeping the immediate area, checking for threats, that sort of thing.

"I'm sure we'll get plenty of hush-hush money by the end of the mission, assuming we come back alive," Dio nods as he's shuffled out of the room. The lion gives his shotgun a good once over, making sure it's nice and loaded and ready to fire when need be. Satisfied, he gives a tuck at his suit and boards the helicopter and sleeps most of the way to the mission location. With a cough, he breaks from his nap and climbs out, combing down his mane and taking out his riot shield from his back. "I do have Anti-Nanomagic, but we shall see how things work without it for awhile. If it's not needed, then I shall not activate it as it does have a drain upon myself. If I do activate it, I'll need a bit of protection as well."

Cookies stays more or less quiet the entire time, staying snuggled as close to Dio as she possibly can, the clingy thing. In answer to Arano, she cheerily pipes up, "The name is Monroe," she says with a confident smile, "First name Marilyn. Pleased to meet you." As they step out of the helicopter she looks around, stretching out a bit and frowning slightly. She takes a deep breath of the air and, waiting for her head to explode or something for a moment, she shrugs slightly and retakes her position next to the lion as always. "Mmh. Anybody else feel just a little off?"

Arimia pulls out her cigarette case and takes another cigarette from it. She raises it to her lips and lights it before saying, "Feel off? Apparently I'm in the presence of an idol thought long dead. So what's a little oddity in the air next to that?" She draws her sword and looks around. Let's get to high ground. See the lay of the land from a bit closer than that chopper offered. And in regards to the pay, if they don't offer enough we take what we find elsewhere. They'll try to kill us for it, I'm sure. But things have been trying to kill me for a while. They haven't succeeded. Yet."