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♥ecнσ♥

♥ecнσ♥

Number of posts : 27
Age : 28
Location : on the dance floor
Registration date : 2009-02-22

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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeThu Mar 12, 2009 12:36 pm

It'll take me a bit of time to respond. My computer's hardrive crashed and I have no idea when I'll get it back up and working.
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Sullivan O'Shea
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Number of posts : 6
Age : 29
Location : Groton, CT
Registration date : 2009-01-11

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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeSun Mar 08, 2009 12:45 pm

To say the hotel was grand would have been a gross understatement. The Westbarg hotel had five star written on it's welcome mat. Fine carpets, silken drapes, marble tiles, aged mahagony walls, a hotel fit for a king, or a socialite, or a celebrity. Waiters and waitresses alike wore exquisite uniforms, a red silken vest over a white shirt and black pants, complete with cuff links bearing the hotel's insignia and shoes polished to a mirror shine. The men were clean shaven, and the ladies wore their hair in fine buns. No amount of a disheveled personality could be seen, even if they were the most disastrous kind of person on the inside. Makari, if he hadn't remembered who he was impersonating, would have let his jaw drop, and this was through the windows. They hadn't even made their entrance.

Makari took the keys from his car, almost biting his lip at the thought of someone else driving. Not because he was attached, but it was difficult for anyone but him to drive. "Be very careful, it is not like any other car you have parked." The young man hastened a nod before jumping into the car. Despite turning away, Makari couldn't shake the chill that crept up his spine. He took Elizabeth's extended arm, and casually walked up to the front door. "I hope we see that kid again," he said, with a nervous smile across his lips.

As they crossed the foyer, a waitress came up to them, a smile on her face that seemed to have been planted there as opposed to naturally flowing, suggesting years of dealing with people she didn't have much of a taste for. "Welcome to the Westbarg Hotel, Mr. and Mrs. Richardson! It's so nice to have you staying here." Makari shot a quick glance around, and realized nobody checked in at the desks. Did Amy make the call before they arrived? The lady held out a clip board with their information on it. "Now, I need you two to sign in, and I will show you to your room!" Damn, they are good.

After taking a brief moment to sign both of them in, the lady took the newlyweds to the elevator. It was fashioned just like the old days, complete with a lever, not buttons, for getting to virtually endless set of floors. The gate was wrought iron, and to the ones with a fear of heights, this was new torture, as you saw every floor before coming to yours. Still, the '20's flair was refreshing from the cold steel and glass motif ever present in the society both of them lived in today, and a big improvement over where they usually live.

After the barbie led them to their room, casually spurting off the history of the place, Makari and Amy at last had a breather, which was quickly taken as they surveyed the room. Again, the same '20's motif as before, broken only by the fridge and the large flat screen television. After setting the attache aside, he stretched out on the bed. His bones ached, and he wanted so badly to sleep, but there was a mission to do. At the same time, he looked over at Amy, and realized there was only one bed. "I guess I'll take the couch, heh."
----------------
(OOC: LoL, sorry, that's all I got. You've got me beat... hahaha.)
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♥ecнσ♥

♥ecнσ♥

Number of posts : 27
Age : 28
Location : on the dance floor
Registration date : 2009-02-22

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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeFri Feb 27, 2009 3:07 pm

“Look the part?” Amy repeated. Her head cocked to the side, and then her eyes slid down her own body and realized she was still wearing the asylums gray sweatpants and t-shirt. She felt silly in them and turned back toward her room. “I’m going to get ready.”

She disappeared through the door and closed the curtain. The duffle bag Amelia sent her with was half open on the bed with dress clothes hanging out of it. Amy stared at them for a moment and then sighed.

The mission was nothing new to her, though it would be the first time her and Makari would have to play pretending such a closely knitted relationship. The thought of marriage had never really occurred to her, being the agent she was. Amelia always told her that being an agent was first priority and if she let something else in, the mission would fall apart.

If that was true, then why hadn’t things fallen apart yet? As far as Amy was concerned, Makari was always her first priority, despite the respect she had toward Amelia.

The thoughts clouded her mind only for a brief moment before she shoved them aside and began unfolding a white dress. It was gorgeous, but not as fancy as some of the other costumes Amelia allowed her to wear on missions. It was good enough as far as Amy saw it.

Her sweatpants and t-shirt were soon discarded to the other end of the room, abandoned and the white, lacy dress fit perfectly around her body. It’s soft, flowy nature emphasized Amy’s curves, giving her the part of an irresistible blonde. Her eyes were brought out with eyeliner and creamy eye shadow, while her lips protruded magnificently in a medium pink. There were several other dresses, some of it she didn’t understand what to use it for, or when it would remotely come in handy.

Amy’s hand rested on the doorknob for a moment as her eyes studied the gold ring setting contently on her finger. It was an odd sight for her. Normally Amelia discouraged any jewelry, so the ring felt strange and unfamiliar. But knowing it was physically given to her by Makari she smiled and opened the door.

“I’m ready.” Amy was quite the sight. She didn’t need extremely fancy get-up just to look drop-dead-turn-your-head-around gorgeous. But tonight there would fancier attire waiting to be worn.

Amy took one last look around the house and sighed. This would be their last time here unless something went wrong with the mission.

Outside, a tall, dark man was waiting by the car Makari was given. Amy immediately recognized him as the man who first introduced her to Heimlich. Once he had handed her over to Amelia, Amy had never seen him again until now.

“May I help you?” Amy asked. She stood in the doorway of the cabin, unsure.

The man stepped forward and smiled. He wasn’t dressed for the mission, but rather in a simple black blazer with a white button down shirt partly undone that set nicely over a pair of black slacks. It was the same clothing style he wore when he saw her at the asylum.

“I must say, you’ve become more mature since I last saw you,” the man said. “I’ve come with a special car for you and your caretaker. Amelia sent me here to deliver.”

Amy frowned and crossed her arms. “Why can’t we take Makari’s car?” She had never been inside anyone else’s car by Makari’s since he was assigned as her caretaker.
The man’s smile faded. “You address your caretaker by their name?”

Ignoring him, Amy strode past him and got into the car where Makari was already waiting. The strange man just stared after her with a smile as the white, classy car sped off.

“Makari, who was that man?” Amy asked after a moment of silence. She spun the wedding ring around her finger nervously. The man’s gaze made her uncomfortable. The way he looked at her wasn’t normal. “I remember seeing him at the asylum.”

Flashes swarmed her mind, but they weren’t familiar. Amy stared out the window, puzzled, and then shook her head to clear her mind.

“Amelia said we’re supposed to sign in at the front desk every time we go to the room or leave the hotel. There’s a log sheet near to receptionist. Do you think anyone will suspect that we’re not actually married?”

Neither of them would know how or when to assassinate Amar until they knew the hotel inside and out and knew who ran the place. There was no doubt that security would be swarming, Amy thought. Guards weren’t ever an issue.

She settled back in her seat and stared idly outside. Sleep hadn’t come last night with the preparations, so it left her tired and blank, but it didn’t affect the mission.

Amelia would be astonished by their big finish.

Amy just about became breathless when the hotel came in sight.

With Makari’s driving, the two had made a two hour drive in only thirty minutes. The hotel was large and hulking, touching the sky like eager fingertips. The name was something Amy was unable to pronounce correctly, so she allowed herself to be mute when it came to mentioning to curious folk which hotel they were staying at. She only saw the name twice, including now when they pulled up to the front.

A small twit of a boy in white and red silk stood at the curb waiting. He smiled and took a bow when he saw Amy.

“May I park your car?” he asked shyly, glancing at Amy every so often.

Amy, of course, was already playing the role of sweet Elizabeth Annette Richardson. She stepped out of the car when the boy opened her door, a lavishing smile on her lips. In the car she had pulled her blonde wig into a messy bun that was both lovely and daring in a place like this. No wonder the poor boy couldn’t pull his eyes away from Amy.

“It would be a pleasure to have such a fine young man take care of our vehicle, won’t it, love?” Amy said, glancing back at Makari. She carried a handbag, and before her mind wandered, she dug out a bill, its number large, and put it into the young boys astonished hands as a tip.
___________________________________________________________________________________
I hope you don't mind me leaving you to describe the hotel... I feel like a hog with explaining every thing. I'll give you a shot at a really long post, lol.
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Sullivan O'Shea
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Age : 29
Location : Groton, CT
Registration date : 2009-01-11

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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeThu Feb 26, 2009 8:27 pm

Makari continued studying the picture, gleaning as much as he could from the pastel of chemicals on plastic. He lit up another one of his Vanguard brand cigarettes before Amy walked in the door. If this were a dark room, no doubt both of them would smack their heads or stub their toes silly. The design of the building made him uncomfortable, although he agreed it to be a much better place than a cell with bars and concrete.

As Makari unfolded the last packet, two golden rings fell out, one with a diamond on top of it, each fitted precisely to his and her specifications. He initially thought it weird to have every exact statistic, even finger size, but he supposed it was to further Heimlich's endeavors as well as their own security. The ring slid onto his finger easily, and he eyed it with curiosity. Marriage was, in Makari's mind, something that would not come to him naturally.

He took the other ring and gently tossed it to his wife, smirking as he did. "Well, sweetheart," he said sweetheart with his best English accent, "Time to start looking the part. If you will excuse me, I must get dressed." He turned away for an instant, before looking back at her. "Just because it says we're married does not mean we have to act like it. I would like some privacy as I dressed, as I am sure you do." Makari opened up a rare, wide open smile, before he closed the blinds.

The clothing definitely did not suit him, and to Makari, the only redeeming factor of the entire dinner suit get-up was the long dinner jacket they had supplied him with. Tailor made exactly for him, almost like a trench coat. It even had four holsters that lined the inside of the chest. One gun always wound up being too slow for anyone of his abilities. Even two pistols were too slow when the slide always took an eternity to lock in the next round. Each handgun was small enough to fit surreptitiously inside, with minimal bulk, allowing him to walk around without suspicion.

Amy was still getting dressed when Makari left his room. His foot landed on a stray sheet of paper outside of her door. At first, he assumed it to be another piece of info, but instead leaned against the wall as he looked upon the contents. He was a bunny, she was a frog, and Amar must have been the giraffe. Despite the serious nature of their business, Makari couldn't help but smile at the child-like innocence Amy would tend to display.

Something else swelled inside of Makari. He felt that he grew more attached to Amy the more time he spent with her. Despite all he had learned, and how he would cloister himself if he grew emotional over someone, Makari just wanted more time with Amy. Not on missions, but out in public. Such an odd coupling: an asylum patient and a convict. He shook these feelings from his head, and knocked on the door, calling into her room. "Are you ready to go?" In an instant, the car was revving.

(OOC: Sorry if it's a bit short, I'm about to go on watch)
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♥ecнσ♥

♥ecнσ♥

Number of posts : 27
Age : 28
Location : on the dance floor
Registration date : 2009-02-22

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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeThu Feb 26, 2009 11:41 am

Once again, the guard had attempted to stop Amy and Makari, but the moment he realized it was them he suddenly became engrossed in an old newspaper. Amy didn’t giggle like before. Her mind was set in a steely form with only the mission nurturing her thoughts. No one understood it, and Amelia was set on believing it was the one thing that made Amy far more dangerous than anyone brought into the Heimlich. But it was also a reassurance, knowing that Amy could be trusted to get the job done with little protection from her caretaker.

Amy made no eye contact with Makari as she got inside the car, but her hand brushed gently against his in a silent thank you. No matter what mood either of them was in, they always shared the unnaturally special connection between them.

The car hummed to life and a moment later it was speeding down the long stretch of road near Heimlich headquarters. There was another path that tore off in thick brush somewhere along the road that led straight to the safe houses. With a mission as dangerous and tricky as theirs, Amy and Makari couldn’t afford to remain at Heimlich. Until the mission was complete, they were completely on their own.

Then, from the silence, came Makari’s usual question to her. She smiled, but her eyes remained cold and focused up ahead. “You should know better,” she murmured. “Heimlich is the only place for people like us.”

That’s what she was led to believe, anyway. Whether it was true or not, Amelia didn’t care so long as she had agents that were cared for enough to complete missions not suitable for regular government officials. In a way, Amy agreed. Being at Heimlich gave her purpose, a reason for existing with this dreadful curse.

As the path grew thicker, Amy pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil and idly began sketching something. Just before a mission, Amy always drew what she wanted the outcome to be, even if her work was less than perfect.

On the paper, a bunny labeled Makari, and a frog labeled Amy both held machine guns while a giraffe lay dead and bleeding on the ground. She smiled at her drawing and then tucked it away when they pulled up to the safe house.

“Amelia could have made it prettier,” Amy said as she got out. The small cabin like house looked nothing like what she was used to in Heimlich headquarters. For one, it looked ordinary and slightly unsanitary, but Amy remembered Amelia saying that it was to keep suspicions down. It made sense, she thought; if someone were to stumble into the woods, whether on purpose or by accident, they would know immediately that something fishy was going on if they saw any advanced technology.

Heimlich was the most advanced force ever created, having access to things unimaginable. Plus, with brainiacs working around the clock to perfect different uses for technology, it was a wonder they didn’t have better ways to make an assassination safe house.

It was better than nothing. It was temporary anyway, so it wouldn’t matter how terrible the place was.

When Makari opened her door, first parking the car, Amy stepped out and examined the cabin for a long moment before walking forward and sighed. Relief flooded through her when she noticed a small device used to scan eyes was stuck in a cranny above the door. A green light shot down and blinded her for a brief moment. She stepped back and glared at the device, tempted to take it down until the door clicked open.

The inside didn’t resemble anything close to a cabin. It was almost exactly like one of the sleeping cubbies where agents slept, only much, much bigger. The walls were a light, metallic blue as well as the floor and the furniture was a soft creamy white. Everything was too clean, too advanced, too plain and boring. The walls separating rooms were thick, crystal clear glass. The only protection against someone else’s eyes was a thin curtain that could be pulled over the glass. There was no personality, but through years of asylums and a few at Heimlich, Amy saw it has the perfect space to live.

Amelia was brilliant to hide such a sufficient living place in an ugly, run-down cabin in the brush of nature. No one would ever suspect that it was a Heimlich safe house.

Amy stepped inside first, awestruck as she made her way toward one of the bedrooms. The small kitchen like area was a small square of space squished between two thick glass walls. Amy’s bedroom was on the left side and Makari’s was on the other. It was small, but perfect. Small space efficient rooms were all she knew.

Later, after everything was brought inside and set up, Amy and Makari retreated to their separate rooms to plan for the morning to come.

Amy had pulled the blind across her glass wall, disappearing from Makari’s sight. There was no time to slack, not when a deadly mission awaited them. She began by spreading the file of their target over the bed, eyeing each slip of paper carefully. Amar was suspected of several crimes, leading back to 1950; rape, murder, violation, felony, and robbery. He had quite the computer knack, though he didn’t look the part, Amy thought in amusement. He also had a thing for blonde Americans.

She wrinkled her nose at the information and dug into one of the bags she brought with her and pulled out a blonde wig. It was made from real human hair, she remembered Amelia telling her. The thought disturbed her and quickly shoved the thought aside.

By nine O’ clock, Amy emerged from her room and faced Makari. She stifled a giggle when he announced his alias.

“No, you don’t sound like a Richardson at all,” she said, remembering his joke from earlier. “But I suppose it will do.” She ran a finger through her newly acquired blonde hair, the wig professionally laced in with her own hair so it would stay on. Her eyes were a dark blue with gold specks in the middle.

She smiled and took a bow and spoke with an English accent. “I am Elizabeth Annette Richardson, Eliza for short. As for Amar, I wasn’t able to gather much of his history that didn’t say what Amelia already gave us, but I did find some of his personality traits. He enjoys young blondes, gables way too much, and smokes the president’s special cigars, meaning the reason for his assassination could very well be linked to the president himself.”

They hadn’t taken someone political down before. It was classified as a boring job, and yet because it was so new, Amy found it all the more exciting.

“Amelia sent a note an hour ago giving us directions to the hotel Amar will be staying at. We’re already booked, so all we need to do it show up and kill him. Do you think we’ll have to dispose of the body ourselves, or will Heimlich send someone?”

((Utopia751Baby@live.com))
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Sullivan O'Shea
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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeThu Feb 26, 2009 2:21 am

"Well, first off," Makari said, taking the folder slowly from Amy's hands, "I just don't sound like a Richardson, da?" He knew Amy would find the humor. His accent, while not completely incoherent, was still thick enough to warrant the fact that the simple name of Richardson would be tough. "There are many ideas to work around, however. I'll toy with them when we get to the safe house."

They had to pass by the same security guard on their way out. Makari felt the temptation that he should play some of his practical jokes, but decided against it. This wasn't the first assassination mission he was a part of, but it was the first to involve a telepath that strong, especially one stronger than Amy. With some light jests aside, he knew he would have to remain focused. He held the door open for his agent before sliding into the drivers seat.

On the outside, the car looked completely normal. On the inside, it was quite different from every other vehicle: it had been completely modified from it's interior, with a much higher speed and turning rate, no simple person could drive this car without some kind of assistance. After all, it was built specifically for Makari and his abilities. The car proceeded away from HQ in any normal fashion, before it shot off.

Makari stared at the address they were given for the safe house, memorizing every little detail before stuffing it back into his pocket, replacing it with a cigarette between his lips. Traffic sped by the car in a blur, but he registered every little event surrounding him. He could even read the brand of cell phone the man in a car in the opposing traffic lane was using if he really wanted to. He sometimes played the "I spy" game with Amy if she ever got bored. It would end up with some harmless bickering. The small thoughts like these made Makari smile, and even if he wouldn't admit it out loud, being around Amy always brought the best out of him.

Still, the pairing is always too far apart. It's not every day the convict and the asylum patient meet up. A match made in some messed up universe to be sure. Maybe Heimlich wasn't really a government agency, but a mismatch dating service designed to create sitcoms for national television consumption, Makari amused himself with all of these what if scenarios. "Amy," he turned his head to hers, making sure he had enough room on the straight-away to get away with, "I'm sure I might have asked this of you before, but if you could get away from this all, where would you go?" Another scenario Makari thought of, another amusement, and sadly, another fantasy.

The pair arrived into the city a little bit before sundown. Always the gentleman, he opened Amy's door and shut it just as they arrived. The building was a fairly blank, unassuming apartment. The address was the same as before, and Makari knew the code to get past the door and into the building. Without a moment wasted, the door swung open to the inside. Again, the interior was unassuming. Grey on grey. Boring, but effectual. They both slid into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.
-------------------------------------

Makari sat over the papers, going over the alias he would have to assume. The safe house was littered with everything one could need. The first thing he did was apply prosthetic make-up to his scar, thus covering his one distinguishing mark. The next, work on his accent.

He was quite certain Amy would be doing her fair share of homework. They needed just a few things, all of which were accessible easily from here, but needing time. There were details in several aspects, most of which involved themselves and their personalities, and the plan needed to be watertight. Eventually, everything was hammered out, and all loose ends were tied. They presented 'themselves' to each other

Makari became Donovan Anthony Richardson. A young man getting married to his high school sweetheart of the past few years. The marriage had been only a few weeks ago, and they were on their honeymoon.

After Amy presented herself, she would also present the information she gathered on their target. This was how he knew she did her homework, and as caretaker, he needed to protect her more than complete the mission. It was up to her to decide the man's fate. Makari was the direction, and Amy was the catalyst necessary to complete the mission. A yawn slipped by the young man before he looked at the clock. It was nearing 9:00 PM. The mission was in 7 hours. They would need some sleep, after all, they were still human.
---------------------------------------------
(OOC: Do you have any IM's I can contact you on? "Teh Fallen Syn" is my AIM, and "thefallensyn@yahoo.com" is my MSN. I would love to talk about this some more with you!)
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♥ecнσ♥

♥ecнσ♥

Number of posts : 27
Age : 28
Location : on the dance floor
Registration date : 2009-02-22

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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeTue Feb 24, 2009 11:30 am

“I’m glad you could make it. You sounded as if you wouldn’t be able to come get me today,” Amy said.

It was rare that a caretaker would be unable to pursue their agent’s needs, but it wasn’t unheard of. Most of the time, Amy heard, was that the caretaker would be reassigned to another job in the Heimlich when they failed responsibility toward their priorities. But Makari was different. She always knew him as a fighter no matter what circumstances; he always managed to get to her. He had become the best caretaker Heimlich had ever known, perfect for Amy and the near impossible missions she was often sent on.

Amy brushed against his shoulder as she eagerly got inside the car. The faint smell of cigarettes greeted her, making her tense body relax. Often in the darkness when she was walking through Heimlich headquarters, she would smell the brand he smoked, knowing instantly he was lurking; being her guardian angel.

When the car started moving, much too fast for traffic, Amy turned to Makari slowly. “You didn’t hear anything from Amelia, have you?”

The thought of Amelia and her cold stare made a shiver race through her. Amy knew only one person who had enough nerve to stare her right in the eye: her caretaker. The young woman with sharp features ran Heimlich, truly believing in what they did in the world. It was still unknown to Amy about what her true need here was, but she never asked questions.

Right before Amy left for the asylum, Amelia had called her into her office and told her to expect orders when she returned. She had no idea if Makari knew anything about it, or if Amelia still held a personal grudge, and reluctant respect, toward him for disregarding her orders often. Then again, Amy knew Amelia well enough to know that if the Heimlich wasn’t on the verge of exposure, no offence was serious. Amy had learned that the hard way when she snuck out of her own her first week at headquarters and nearly got kidnapped on the rundown part of town, a place where the druggies and drunks lived. She was told it wasn’t okay for her to go, at least not without a caretaker. At that time, she didn’t have Makari, just a stingy woman who failed at keeping her on a short leash.

The city, wide and open, fell around them as the cars speed increased. The first time driving with Makari was terrifying, she remembered as the car swerved gracefully between cars, unfettered by the patrol cars often roaming around. But since then, it became natural, something safe and familiar.

“Makari, do you think that Amelia will make us go on another boring mission?” For the past month, Amelia had reserved the more dangerous missions for the elite, not trusting Amy just yet. Heimlich still couldn’t understand the specialness of Amy’s power growth. Many of the elders often said that pairing Makari with her was the worst possible thing, that disaster would strike.

As the city became a dot in the distance, the familiar path sparked Amy’s attention. She always liked the sight of Heimlich headquarters as they were coming up on it. Beautiful brick, laced with ivy stretching high up, was what the mansion was made from. It was sturdy and safe, a warm place to be, all except Amelia’s stare. There were at least ten brilliantly made wings of the mansion, a place where someone new could easier get lost. Amy had been there two years now and still she didn’t completely know her way around.

They pulled into the parking arena beneath the structure and Amy sighed in relief. “It’s good to be home,” she said looking at Makari. “I suppose I should check in with Amelia to let her know I’m back safely.” She got out of the car and stood for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dim lighting before easing her way toward the guarded door.

The guard eyed her warily. Amy knew by his expression that he was new, not yet used to seeing the agents and their caretakers. He held a big hand out to stop her.

“Agent or Caretaker?” he asked.

Amy tilted her head back to Makari. “Agent.”

“You’re an agent? You don’t look like much.”

“I assure you that I’m an agent. That man over there is my Caretaker.” Amy’s smile was dazzling and innocent. “Is there anymore you need to know?”

“ID. I need proof in order to let you inside, otherwise I’ll have to call for security.” The guard stated matter-of-factly, seeming also smug, like any second now he would prove Amy wrong.

“Of course.”

“Him too.”

Amy snapped her fingers and held her hand out behind her, and unsurprising, her ID card floated out of Makari’s car and right into her hand. She presented it proudly to the guard just as Makari stepped up to join her.

“Is this good enough?” Amy asked.

Reluctantly, the guard nodded and stepped aside for them to enter. Amy leaned close to her caretaker. “They honestly need better guards. He didn’t even scan us to see if we had anything bad on us.” It would definitely be an issue she presented to Amelia.

Inside, the hallways twisted and turned several young males and females, all with the same miraculous features of perfection evident in them. Some waved at them, some awkwardly stepping aside when they saw she was with Makari again. The hallways eventually came to a large cross shape with a gigantic interior middle where a specially built office was. It was small, but only to the naked eye. Amelia always liked her space cozy and to herself, so when Amy and Makari entered the office, Amelia looked up with a glare.

When she realized who it was her eyes immediately softened. “Oh, it’s you two.”

“Did we come at a bad time?” Amy asked as she stared straight ahead. “Our apologies. Makari and I just returned from the asylum.”

Amelia sighed and sat herself at her desk and folded her fingers beneath her chin. “I see. And how was the asylum?”

“The same. They have a new inspector.”

The cold woman’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “Did she suspect anything? Did the nurses play their part or do we need to have a talk?”

Amy drew in a deep breath and tried to hide partly behind Makari.

Just then, Amelia’s eyes shot to Makari. “I assume nothing terrible happened to Amy? Nothing that could become life threatening to her or Heimlich?”

Like always, Amelia made a point to be the first the talk, and interrupting classified as ‘polite’ in this bizarre world that was this icy woman.

“If I may ask…Amelia,” Amy said when Makari and Amelia’s moment were over. “What mission do you have lined up for Makari and I?”

A shudder raced through Amelia, though she would never show it. She found it strange that Amy still insisted on referring to her caretaker by his name rather than just caretaker. Then again, the two were an odd pairing in Heimlich to begin with, so why was it always a surprise?

“There’s a man that needs to be assassinated.”

The words rang through Amy’s head, her mind suddenly tightening around it. Her eyes reflected a calm presence, no longer the silly child she was at times. When the mission became serious, so did Amy, another abstract thing about her that Heimlich couldn’t understand.

“Where is this man located?” Like her appearance, Amy’s voice changed to a monotone.

Amelia smiled, liking this Amy better. “He’s at the Westbarg Hotel. This job will require the both of you,” she said eyeing Makari. “You will be given aliases and supplies for the mission, however, this man is highly dangerous. He’s like Amy, a telekinetic, so its crucial for you, Makari, to be beside her at all times. We believe he is the most powerful telekinetic to be discovered thus far, of course, not counting you Amy.”

The words slowly sunk into Amy brain. Her eyes glanced at Makari, to see his reaction, though not expecting much.

“He’s a man of trust. In order to get anywhere close to him, you must earn his trust, make him think you are apart of his world and that you are every bit interested in joining his little…clan.” Amelia drew in a deep breath and rummaged through a stack of papers on her desk before setting her sights on a black folder. “Here are your new identities, the information we currently have on the man, and further instructions about your mission.”

Amy took the folder and opened it, showing it to Makari at the same time. The man was middle-aged, with gold hanging from his body like it was apart of him. His name was labeled Amar and his origin: India. He would be a tough one to convince, Amy thought.

“You’ll go as newlyweds under the name Richardson, understood?” Amelia motioned toward the door. “Best get prepared. You leave tomorrow morning, four O’ clock sharp.”

As Amy and Makari passed the threshold, they heard Amelia mutter something else, something that oddly resembled concern: “By all mean, be careful.”

When the door closed, Amy breathed a sigh of relief, happy that she wasn’t meeting those cruel eyes anymore.

“What preparations do we need, Makari?” Amy asked, looking at her caretaker for guidance.
___________________________________________________________________________________
btw, your post was great! I'm glad your so descriptive^^
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PostSubject: Re: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeMon Feb 23, 2009 8:41 pm

FASCIST BABY Katze_lighting_a_cigarette__by_arkoniel


Before he grew to live in this new, more axiomatic environment, the new caretaker had been just a simple college student. More fairly, he had been a troubled, pressured, and somber college student in a simple college. Makari "Mark" Stas Kelevra grew up in a rich, business oriented family, always pointing out to their one and only son that he must become as successful as they had been. They threw him to many prestigious schools, where only the most privileged children were allowed to go.

The family's hopes for Makari soon diminished almost as much as his hopes for a real family. His father always traveled away from home, business dominated more of his life than his own flesh and blood. His mother, the wealthy, floozy socialite, put herself into so many parties, invading and infecting every life she came across, alcohol being her main obsession. In the off chance Makari saw his mom, he could smell the expensive champagne and vodka in each and every slurred word that came across her lips.

Disillusioned with the grandeur of wealth and the effect it had with the human soul, he left his home of St. Petersburg, his country, his family. The story he told mom and dad proved effective, saying he could achieve great success in America. They left him with enough money to grant him a degree in anything he could wish for. Much to his parents dismay, it wasn't engineering, business, or biochemistry. It was art, something the family deemed good for only the poor, the weak, and the hungry.

Maybe things would have been better if they didn't constantly berate him. Maybe the story could have had a happy ending if they were true parents. Ones that cared, loved, and cherished the moments spent with him, and not as a tool to be cultivated to farming the lifeblood that fueled the economy, or more importantly, the lined pockets of crooked businessmen, politicians, and socialites that flaunted their supposed gain to the masses that still starved in the streets.

A surprise visit became the catalyst for becoming involved with Heimlich. Maybe paternal, or material, instincts set in, and soon his father flew out to pay him a visit. Not so much a visit, but an ultimatum, deviously set as a friendly drink in the local tavern. Calm voices became shouts, laced with selfish fury. Eventually, his father would no longer tolerate his sons insolence, and struck him with the broken bottle he had been drinking. Blood poured forth from the jagged cut along Makari's right cheek, and in that instant, he knew something was different. Tired, humiliated, wounded, the enraged son struck back. Time slowed to a halt, but Makari kept moving.

Blow after blow, cut after cut, Makari struck his father, who remained frozen as a statue. As he slowly realized what was happening, his father exploded in a torrent of gushing blood and viscera. Had he not lost composure, maybe his dad would have survived. Maybe they would have been taken in by the off-duty cop that sat at the bar. Instead, the cop pulled a gun on the young man, screaming for him to get to the ground. Instincts took over again, and he bolted. Makari felt as if he stepped out of the time continuum. The bullets flew, and he could see them curving as they passed his face. Not more than a day later, he was in jail. Not more than a few hours after that, he was approached by an agent.

Makari, twenty three years old, two years into serving his five year sentence, stepped out of the car, taking a drag from his clove cigarette before dumping the butt into his personal ash tray, a small, cylindrical device that opened as he pressed the button at the side. Seeing Amy's face was enough to make his day feel good, at least better than staying in prison, that's for sure. "Sorry, friend. I got a little bit tied up," he said with a hint of Russian to his accent. "It's not easy trying to leave my cell without anyone wondering what I've been up to. It's not quite as simple as it is here." He motioned to the fresh cut along his hand. "I've got to hurt someone and get put into solitary for there to be no problem." It was a good thing the warden also had ties to Heimlich, otherwise things would be more hairy.

"Shall we?" he asked politely, motioning to the open door.
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(OOC: Makari has, depending on how you look at it, the ability to slow time, or the ability of super speed. He moves incredibly fast to the naked eye, but as he perceives it, time slows to compensate for his ultra fast movements. It allows him feats of incredible dexterity, precision, and brutality, especially since the sheer amount of his blows is sometimes more than a simple human body can take. P.S. I hope it was long enough. I've been up incredibly long, and am getting quite sleepy, lol.)
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♥ecнσ♥

♥ecнσ♥

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PostSubject: FASCIST BABY   FASCIST BABY Icon_minitimeSun Feb 22, 2009 7:58 pm

FASCIST BABY Amy10


Rain pattered in a soft rhythm against the asylum window.

With the gray and murky weather outside, the puke yellow walls looked more disgusting today, or so Amy personally thought. She sat on her bed, idly staring at her two roommates while thinking about the budget of the asylum. With the poorly constructed meals, cheap and bitter, and the least amount of nurses available to tend to the patients, there should be enough money for a prettier color of paint for the walls.

She could remember when she first arrived here at the age of ten. The old brick building looked run-down, but to Amy it had a certain class, like its barriers held a million stories worth hearing. But the inside was a different story, all tattered and ugly. Amy could barely look at anything without grimacing.

Since then, things changed, though for the worse or for the better, she couldn’t decide. A new government had taken place with a power-hungry new leader, William E. Silverton. It wasn’t such a bad thing at first, because everyone was being taken care of, even the poor, but the world people knew had begun to change drastically throughout the years. It took a great amount of energy to get used to, but it didn’t seem like most of society was complaining. Who would when everything was turned perfect?

First off, every fast-food restaurant had been closed or destroyed. Health had become the only choice, but at least it became more affordable when all chemicals used on farms had been recalled. It was a sure thing that you were eating something without consequence or guilt. Buildings had been torn down and rebuilt into towering works of art, spires that touched the sky and illuminated so much light at night, the stars were no longer visible. Streets were dug up and remade with a better, stronger material, something that was a pearl white rather than black like asphalt. Every old, rundown, eyesore car was taken and destroyed despite people’s protests. New, energy efficient cars were made and sold on the market. You never saw a car that didn’t look pretty anymore, lying out by a curb. Sidewalks were swept and cleaned daily, cracks repaired the moment they were made. Trees were equal in size everywhere, never proportioned at different heights. Everything was just perfect, or so it looked on the outside. The inside was a completely different story.

For Amy, this was hell. Since she was ten-years-old, she’d been kept in an asylum when the shrink’s said she displayed post-traumatic stress disorder after the death of her parents. She was seen as helpless and unable to be around people, meaning foster homes were out of the question. But that wasn’t the case at all. The car accident had been a godsend, killing her parents in a heartbeat so she’d never have to look at them again. Not once did she cry, but at times she wished she was there when they died just to see their expressions when the semi was coming at them head-on.

The asylum became a sanctuary to her. No more having to deal with her father’s ruthless drunken behavior that made him lash out a million times. No more smelling the heroin on her mother when she tried to use a knife to cut into her one and only daughter, Amy. It was a cruel place to live.

Amy had become apart of something bigger, something that gave her a certain freedom away from the asylum. Her ‘disorder’ became a cover-up story after the government had undergone an investigation with the asylum’s patients and Amy was given a chance to explain her side of things, like what she really thought about her parent’s death. It was the only time someone actually had an interest in wanting to know what she thought.

Inside the government, a special group lived. They were hidden from everyone else, created secretly under the noses of the president himself. They were more powerful than anyone else by far, having connections and followers in just about every country. But what made them so special wasn’t the power they possessed. It was what made them powerful to begin with.

Amy was one of them. It was her sixteenth birthday when she first noticed a change in her physical appearance. Her once dull, painfully ugly eyes became a striking emerald green with specks of hazel in the middle. The auburn hair that sat on top her head was dry and frizzy, curly beyond control, but like her eyes, it changed too. It became soft, silky, and perfectly manageable. Even her skin became a crystal clear complexion, worthy of setting your sights on. Neither of her parents was pretty, and thankfully she had come out as an average beauty. But, through the changes, Amy went from average beauty, to an extraordinary beauty. She looked like a model…and of course, a change like that doesn’t go unnoticed. In fact, it was her changes that lead the investigation into the asylum to begin with. The nurses had reported it, wanting people to come in to test the food and water, even the medication given out. None of it was the problem; it was Amy’s genes that created such a wonderful change.

Through blood testing and research into her past family members, the special, hidden government group (better known as Heimlich) had taken a personal interest in Amy when she revealed an even more extraordinary change.

Three months after she turned sixteen, Amy displayed the ability to move things with her mind. She had become ill and was in her room all day, and that’s when it happened when her eyes couldn’t leave her water glass. Eventually the glass flew into a wall unexpected and alerted the nurse. Amy being as surprised as they were, she explained everything and Heimlich paid her a personal visit.

Amy remembered the start of it all so clearly. She was in her room, asked to remain there by the petrified nurses. Three hours went by before a man entered her room dressed formally in all black, tie and all. She remembered that he looked strange to her, almost too perfect and when he spoke, he sent chills racing down her spine.

“Amy,” the man said, “You’re a very special girl. Do you realize that?”

Amy stared, or rather glared, up at the man from her bed. “Do you mean from what happened with the water glass?”

“Yes. It was you who moved it with your mind, right?”

Scoffing, Amy moved to the edge of the bed with her feet barely touching the ground. “Look, I have no idea what’s going on, so if you’d like to explain, I’m all ears.”

The man gave a sharp smile but complied. “Alright. Amy, you’re carrying a gene that is different than any other out there. Heimlich hasn’t found what this gene is; just that it creates drastic changes in its host.”

“Changes?” Amy inquired.

He nodded his head and continued. “Mostly physical changes, like healthier skin, hair, nails, you’re eyes have no doubt become sharper both in appearance and perfect vision. And the most intriguing of abilities are your strength, surpassing that of a normal human girl, and of course, the ability to move things with your mind.”

“So I’ve basically become a freak, then?” Amy shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She didn’t know that her physical strength would change too. The thought of all of this was disturbing enough.

“No, no. You misunderstand, Amy. You’re special, not a freak.”

“Then what exactly do you want? You’ve already invaded my privacy by taking my blood and looking up my family history. What more do you want?” Amy said.

The man drew in a breath, releasing it slowly as he looked at her closely. “I’m here to offer you a place with Heimlich. As a special force.” When Amy was about to say something, the man added to his comment. “There are others like you there.”

“Others?” This made Amy paused and think. “There are other people who can move things with their mind?”

“A few. The special gifts expand greatly. Everyone with this gene has agreed to become apart of Heimlich for protection and acceptance. It’s the most powerful group known to the world.”

Amy swallowed hard. “What would I have to do?”

The man smiled in victory for gaining another powerful member to the special government group, Heimlich.

Amy was one of many like her in Heimlich. They were known as special agents, able to perform any job and be anything anyone ever desired. Amy had become their most prized agent. No one came close to her abilities.

But, the catch was being their puppet for life. Still, anything was better than the lives she had before this. At least she was good at this. It felt right, like she was born to be a superior force. More importantly, she felt she couldn’t survive outside Heimlich. She needed this place. It was where she believed she belonged.

Each agent had a special watcher, someone that took care of them, made sure they were healthy and obeying their orders on a mission. They were like caretakers.

Amy had been with Heimlich for two years now. It was her eighteenth birthday, but unfortunately, a good part of it had to be spent in the ugly asylum where she was first introduced to the special government group. The catch was that in order to keep Heimlich a secret from the outside world, the agents, like Amy, had to keep living in their old lives. For instance, Amy was supposed to be a patient at the asylum until she grew old and died, but because of her new life with Heimlich, she no longer qualifies as an asylum patient. The inspector comes once a year to check the asylum if everything is up to date, the rules are followed, and the patients that are supposed to be in the asylum are healthy and actually there. Since Amy hadn’t been ‘cured’ she made an appearance to the asylum each time the inspector came, as to keep suspicion away. Not to mention that the inspector checks in with cured patients once every two months. There was no way Amy could handle the inspector while keeping Heimlich a secret. So this was the deal, and reluctantly Amy followed it.

It took a good chunk of the day before the inspector finally showed up. They never gave a specific time as to when they were coming, probably hoping to catch something out of line. But that wasn’t the case today. Every patient was gathered into the lounging room and lined against the wall while a short, stalky woman with thick glasses and gray hair made her way down the line asking the names of the patients then marking something on her clipboard.

When it was time for Amy to say her name to the woman, she hesitated. She wanted desperately to get out of this place, and the only way to do that was to follow her lie that she was a patient. Then it would be over and her watcher/caretaker would take her back to Heimlich headquarters.

The woman waited impatiently for Amy to answer. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Amy. My name is Amy.”

The woman checked off her name and moved on. Amy exhaled in relief.

A few moments later, the rooms were checked for any health hazards. Everyone’s items were checked thoroughly, and Amy became nervous when they came to her bag of clothes. Everything came out perfect. The asylum met the inspector’s standards, which meant that Amy was just minutes away from returning to the Heimlich.

Each of the patients waves goodbye to the woman as she got into her shiny, gleaming car and drove away. Amy’s old nurse came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder, startling Amy.

“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” the nurse said. “Your caretaker will be arriving in fifteen minutes. Would you like to wait outside for them?”

Amy nodded. Anymore time looking at the puke yellow walls would make her stomach queasy. “It was good to see you again,” she said, giving the nurse an awkward hug before disappearing through the front entrance.

The outside was chilly, causing Amy to shiver and let out an agitated sigh. She hated the cold. Her caretaker spoiled her with several coats and jacket which she used when she was sent on a mission. Amy wished she had one now.

A minute after she had come outside, a white car pulled up and a man came out of the backseat. He was a few years older than Amy and probably the youngest caretaker/watcher in the Heimlich. But he was also special, like her. He was just as powerful and dangerous as Amy, which was probably why they had made him her caretaker. He had been transferred from agent, like Amy, to a caretaker, being the only one qualified for caring for Amy. Though what made things special about Amy and her caretaker, was that he was able to go on missions together, unlike the other caretakers who were forced to remain at Heimlich headquarters.

“Why were you late?” Amy asked, smiling.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Male – need to be Amy’s caretaker. He’s different from other caretakers, because he was a former agent, like Amy, and is the only one who can qualify as Amy’s caretaker. He sometimes goes on missions with Amy. He can have any power. Amy has telekinesis.
Don’t worry, this RPG isn’t as complicated to understand as it seems. Once we get started it’ll roll smoothly =]


Last edited by ♥ecнσ♥ on Sun May 17, 2009 10:14 pm; edited 1 time in total
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