The Exam 1
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
"How big is each wing and how many rooms do they have?" You ask the first question of the mental list you made, leaning forwards in your chair.
"Good question." KT Agent Daniels clicks the remote, the visuals swapping back to the blueprints and layouts. " The North and South wings each have two floors, 20 rooms each. The East wing has 10 rooms on each floor, not including the gymnasium—which you are also expected to clear."
"Can we use the files from the previous cases of Waterhaven?"
He nods. "Of course, the files will be provided to you on the way there."
"Has anything strange or uncommon happened or happening currently in the vicinity, outside of the school?"
"Nothing beyond reports of strange lights, weird noises, and the odd flicker of movement."
"Was the portal closed or just sealed? Displaced maybe?" You ask.
"Very good question." He eyes the rest of you. "It's important to make the distinction, especially when writing up the report." Agent Daniels pauses, checking his notes—presumably. "But, to answer your question, it was only sealed. The Service of the time was in its infancy and was a great deal more lax in its standards then it is now. On account of having to deal with exponentially more situations than we do now."
"Why wasn't it dealt with once everything calmed down?" Jess adds, her muscular arms cross as she furrows her brows. And she has a point, why didn't the Service clean it up afterwards?
"Bureaucracy, unfortunately. While Helen has many talents, clairvoyance is not one of them. She does a good job with sorting the labyrinthine files of the archives, but sometimes things slip past. This was one of them."
"Damn paperwork." Sean swears in a half-joking manner, a grin on his face.
"Affirmative." The Android nods in agreement.
"If there is something a team can't handle, can we somehow signal the other teams or the kill team—if we can't escape?" You receive a couple snorts as you keep on going.
"You will be provided Communicators, guaranteed to put you in contact with TOC and other agents in all conditions—barring severe magical interference or super-science jamming. Or not being present in the same dimension, it is difficult to send a signal through to another dimension when said dimension is filled with cosmic horrors." You get the feeling that he's speaking from experience here. And, given that he's still here to talk about it, you should definitely pay attention to what he has to say.
And you arrive at your final question "Was the building in active use or was it abandoned since the last case?"
"Fully abandoned, save for a few foolhardy urban explorers or ghost hunters. It tends to be difficult to reopen when 400 kids died—few parents or guardians will trust it."
You nod, done with your questions.
~~~~~~~
You slide the pistol, safety on and chambered in 10mm, into the holster resting over your heart and strap it in place—fastening the button to lock it down.
"A good choice," Andy's bones click as he speaks, his lower jawbone swinging in an approximation of speech, "small, discrete, effective for most foes, not overly threatening to a witness when being questioned."
The armorer nods, jaw flapping. "A good choice." He asserts, patting you on the shoulder as he carries on with his unending work. You shake your head, a wistful sigh escaping your lips. It must be nice to be undead and not get tired––you'd get so much work done!
A little while later, after you pack everything away in their respective pockets, you follow KT Agent Daniels as he leads you to the transport. Seeing an opportunity, you take the time to check what the others are bringing along.
Sean is the focus of your observations, as he's to be your partner for this training endeavor. The Dullahan, perhaps predictably, has a spine-like whip coiled on his right hip, over the greatcoat flowing by his legs. He likely has forgone lockpicks or a prybar, given his people's ability to unlock things just by approaching them.
(Perception Roll DC 60: 25+10=35, failure)
The easy grin on his face as he strolls along repels your efforts to figure him out. A shame, as you'd like to get a read on how he's feeling right now, well, beyond the facade of easy-goingness he's currently putting up.
Amelia's next on your list, given that she's likely had some experience against the demonic with her background being what it is. She's dressed, well, much the same as she always does—with the exception of what appears to be a load of various holy objects.
(Perception Check DC 85: 81+10=91, success)
She hasn't given so much as a hint of dropping that small smile on her face—the subtle upturn of the corners of her mouth is all the evidence that it even exists in the first place. If you were to harken a guess, you'd say that she's feeling genuinely happy about this.
Your gaze drifts down to her hand, following the flow of the twice-blessed fabric, to where she fingers the rosary in her pocket. Every few minutes she shifts to the next bead, slowly making her way through the prayer.
Probably a good decision, given where you're heading.
Done observing the more important trainees, you turn your attention towards the others. They're dressed much the same as you, a suit and greatcoat—with subtle changes based on the individual. Ryan, the ninja, has a shotgun on his shoulder and is carrying his sword by its sheathe. Jess has slipped on a pair of brass knuckles and is currently flexing her fingers around in them, getting used to their feeling on her hands. And TJ, a shock to you, is lugging around what appears to be a mounted gun—guess super-strength comes in handy. Or, well, it probably isn't really super-strength as it's a natural part of his biology. Trolls, unlike a lot of beings, don't have magical enhancements to their musculature––it's all natural for them.
(Passing Idea Roll DC 50,70,100: 50, bare success)
Oh wait, what if you could make some sort of… muscle enhancing fiber based on his biology? You've had experience with muscle suits in the past––your father having grown a few biological ones in his lab, but you've never had a chance to work with one until now. What good providence!
(Idea Gained: Troll-Muscle Fibers)
But, any ideas you've got rattling around in that big noggin of yours is gonna have to be put on hold as you've reached the transport.
It's… well it's a van. An armored one, much like the van that KT Agent Daniels picked you up in. All black sides and tinted windows, the letters "SSS" written on the sides in big blocky text. A larger vehicle sits beside it, two of them in fact.
These vehicles are much bigger than the van, with each of them having turrets mounted on the roofs. There's no mistaking these for anything other than a machine built for one thing and one thing only: violence. And ferrying Kill Teams to their destination, judging by the armored agents––about fifteen of them in total, milling around the backs of the opened APCs.
And the agents themselves, well, there's no mistaking them for anything other than a Kill Team, all black and blue armor and faceless masks. Bulging pouches adorn their armor, equipment hangs from webbing. You squint, is that a can of MSB-10? Yeah, yeah it is!
"And this is where I leave you," KT Agent Daniels says as you climb into the back of the van, "I need to see to my team, make sure Peters isn't screwing around with the gas grenades again." He mutters that last part, robotic eyes staring at an armored agent as he stands inconspicuously beside a box of, presumably, grenades. "Good luck, not that you'll need it." He turns and stalks towards Peters, his long legs carrying him half the distance in a blink of an eye.
The van door closes as you hear muffled yelling. And you're off.
~~~~~~~
It feels weird, you realize as you clamber from the van, to not be in the HQ. You've spent five months, nearly half a year, there and it really doesn't feel like it. It feels more like you've been there only a couple weeks, but… But this is it, the final test and then your career can really begin.
(Perception Roll DC 35: 63+10=73, success)
Waterhaven Elementary School looks… foreboding. Tall brick walls once a cheerful cherry red now leer at you with tan malice. Wind whistles from broken and boarded up windows, shards of glass littering the ground underneath them. The ground bears an impact crater, where the asphalt playspace in the front of the school used to be––evidence of something big falling here.
The reports had mentioned a secondary portal opening, though that one was permanently closed when the agents on site blew it to hell. Literally.
You frown as your eyes dart over the asphalt field and the darkened sky. There's something… wrong here.
"Hey, Sean." You prompt as he climbs out. "You notice anything weird with this place?"
The Dullahan looks around, eyebrows furrowing as he makes the same connection as you. A frown crawls its way across his cream cheese face. "Yeah," he begins, glancing at you, "it's dark here, too dark for how long we were travelling here."
"I was thinking the same thing." You nod, pulling out a pen and paper to make a note of it. "Well, we'd best get going." You say as the rest of the group piles out.
And you do so, passing through an empty door frame and entering the school. The mostly-tiled ground is littered with deep gouges and the occasional empty casing that a scavenger missed. Overturned tables and cracks in the walls––a hole in the ceiling would let in light, had the sun been up at the time.
Together with Sean, you head into the East Wing, your greatcoats billowing behind you as you walk.
~~~~~~~
(Do You Find Something? Or Does Something Find You?: 2, well that's an odd one)
~~~~~~~
(Perception Roll DC 15: 18+10=28, success. Your rolls today are weird, ngl)
(Sean's Perception Roll DC 15: 66, success)
You're emerging from the seventh room you've checked, a science room, and are in the process of heading towards the eighth when you freeze, as does Sean beside you.
In the near absolute quietness of the school, where the only noise is the whistle of the wind and the thumping of your own footsteps, the loud talking coming from down the hall is like thunder to your ears.
The sudden glaring light coming from down near the main entrance isn't helping much, either.
"Hey guys," the loud voice begins from down the hall, speaking towards a cameraman, "and welcome back to another one of our exploration streams."
You and Sean share a look as you process the words, dawning horror on your faces as you realize what you're looking at here.
"Today, we're taking a look at the old Waterhaven Elementary School, in good ol' Chicago. Yes, chat," who the hell is chet?, "I am talking about that Waterhaven, the one where 400 kids were whisked away to the depths of hell." His voice sounds like a well-oiled machine, like he's practiced this many times before.
You sigh, as does Sean. Pulling out your communicator, you call up the other two teams. "Team Two here, we've got what appears to be a…" you look at Sean, who mouths the word 'streamer' at you, "streamer? A civilian in the school, we're gonna go escort him out, over"
"Team One received, over." Amelia's curt voice answers, a thrum of emotion in her voice that blows all previous encounters with her out of the water.
"Got it, stay safe. Team Three received, over." Jess confirms she got it as you turn to Sean. You open your mouth and start discussing how to do this.
How do you approach this?
[ ] Just get them outta here with whatever force is necessary.
[ ] Approach with words and reason, perhaps they'll understand and leave easily.
[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: wtf, my sense of time is so screwy. Days just keep blending together! Sorry for the lateness. Voting will be called tomorrow at 6 PM, CST. Thanks for reading and voting.
"Good question." KT Agent Daniels clicks the remote, the visuals swapping back to the blueprints and layouts. " The North and South wings each have two floors, 20 rooms each. The East wing has 10 rooms on each floor, not including the gymnasium—which you are also expected to clear."
"Can we use the files from the previous cases of Waterhaven?"
He nods. "Of course, the files will be provided to you on the way there."
"Has anything strange or uncommon happened or happening currently in the vicinity, outside of the school?"
"Nothing beyond reports of strange lights, weird noises, and the odd flicker of movement."
"Was the portal closed or just sealed? Displaced maybe?" You ask.
"Very good question." He eyes the rest of you. "It's important to make the distinction, especially when writing up the report." Agent Daniels pauses, checking his notes—presumably. "But, to answer your question, it was only sealed. The Service of the time was in its infancy and was a great deal more lax in its standards then it is now. On account of having to deal with exponentially more situations than we do now."
"Why wasn't it dealt with once everything calmed down?" Jess adds, her muscular arms cross as she furrows her brows. And she has a point, why didn't the Service clean it up afterwards?
"Bureaucracy, unfortunately. While Helen has many talents, clairvoyance is not one of them. She does a good job with sorting the labyrinthine files of the archives, but sometimes things slip past. This was one of them."
"Damn paperwork." Sean swears in a half-joking manner, a grin on his face.
"Affirmative." The Android nods in agreement.
"If there is something a team can't handle, can we somehow signal the other teams or the kill team—if we can't escape?" You receive a couple snorts as you keep on going.
"You will be provided Communicators, guaranteed to put you in contact with TOC and other agents in all conditions—barring severe magical interference or super-science jamming. Or not being present in the same dimension, it is difficult to send a signal through to another dimension when said dimension is filled with cosmic horrors." You get the feeling that he's speaking from experience here. And, given that he's still here to talk about it, you should definitely pay attention to what he has to say.
And you arrive at your final question "Was the building in active use or was it abandoned since the last case?"
"Fully abandoned, save for a few foolhardy urban explorers or ghost hunters. It tends to be difficult to reopen when 400 kids died—few parents or guardians will trust it."
You nod, done with your questions.
~~~~~~~
You slide the pistol, safety on and chambered in 10mm, into the holster resting over your heart and strap it in place—fastening the button to lock it down.
"A good choice," Andy's bones click as he speaks, his lower jawbone swinging in an approximation of speech, "small, discrete, effective for most foes, not overly threatening to a witness when being questioned."
The armorer nods, jaw flapping. "A good choice." He asserts, patting you on the shoulder as he carries on with his unending work. You shake your head, a wistful sigh escaping your lips. It must be nice to be undead and not get tired––you'd get so much work done!
A little while later, after you pack everything away in their respective pockets, you follow KT Agent Daniels as he leads you to the transport. Seeing an opportunity, you take the time to check what the others are bringing along.
Sean is the focus of your observations, as he's to be your partner for this training endeavor. The Dullahan, perhaps predictably, has a spine-like whip coiled on his right hip, over the greatcoat flowing by his legs. He likely has forgone lockpicks or a prybar, given his people's ability to unlock things just by approaching them.
(Perception Roll DC 60: 25+10=35, failure)
The easy grin on his face as he strolls along repels your efforts to figure him out. A shame, as you'd like to get a read on how he's feeling right now, well, beyond the facade of easy-goingness he's currently putting up.
Amelia's next on your list, given that she's likely had some experience against the demonic with her background being what it is. She's dressed, well, much the same as she always does—with the exception of what appears to be a load of various holy objects.
(Perception Check DC 85: 81+10=91, success)
She hasn't given so much as a hint of dropping that small smile on her face—the subtle upturn of the corners of her mouth is all the evidence that it even exists in the first place. If you were to harken a guess, you'd say that she's feeling genuinely happy about this.
Your gaze drifts down to her hand, following the flow of the twice-blessed fabric, to where she fingers the rosary in her pocket. Every few minutes she shifts to the next bead, slowly making her way through the prayer.
Probably a good decision, given where you're heading.
Done observing the more important trainees, you turn your attention towards the others. They're dressed much the same as you, a suit and greatcoat—with subtle changes based on the individual. Ryan, the ninja, has a shotgun on his shoulder and is carrying his sword by its sheathe. Jess has slipped on a pair of brass knuckles and is currently flexing her fingers around in them, getting used to their feeling on her hands. And TJ, a shock to you, is lugging around what appears to be a mounted gun—guess super-strength comes in handy. Or, well, it probably isn't really super-strength as it's a natural part of his biology. Trolls, unlike a lot of beings, don't have magical enhancements to their musculature––it's all natural for them.
(Passing Idea Roll DC 50,70,100: 50, bare success)
Oh wait, what if you could make some sort of… muscle enhancing fiber based on his biology? You've had experience with muscle suits in the past––your father having grown a few biological ones in his lab, but you've never had a chance to work with one until now. What good providence!
(Idea Gained: Troll-Muscle Fibers)
But, any ideas you've got rattling around in that big noggin of yours is gonna have to be put on hold as you've reached the transport.
It's… well it's a van. An armored one, much like the van that KT Agent Daniels picked you up in. All black sides and tinted windows, the letters "SSS" written on the sides in big blocky text. A larger vehicle sits beside it, two of them in fact.
These vehicles are much bigger than the van, with each of them having turrets mounted on the roofs. There's no mistaking these for anything other than a machine built for one thing and one thing only: violence. And ferrying Kill Teams to their destination, judging by the armored agents––about fifteen of them in total, milling around the backs of the opened APCs.
And the agents themselves, well, there's no mistaking them for anything other than a Kill Team, all black and blue armor and faceless masks. Bulging pouches adorn their armor, equipment hangs from webbing. You squint, is that a can of MSB-10? Yeah, yeah it is!
"And this is where I leave you," KT Agent Daniels says as you climb into the back of the van, "I need to see to my team, make sure Peters isn't screwing around with the gas grenades again." He mutters that last part, robotic eyes staring at an armored agent as he stands inconspicuously beside a box of, presumably, grenades. "Good luck, not that you'll need it." He turns and stalks towards Peters, his long legs carrying him half the distance in a blink of an eye.
The van door closes as you hear muffled yelling. And you're off.
~~~~~~~
It feels weird, you realize as you clamber from the van, to not be in the HQ. You've spent five months, nearly half a year, there and it really doesn't feel like it. It feels more like you've been there only a couple weeks, but… But this is it, the final test and then your career can really begin.
(Perception Roll DC 35: 63+10=73, success)
Waterhaven Elementary School looks… foreboding. Tall brick walls once a cheerful cherry red now leer at you with tan malice. Wind whistles from broken and boarded up windows, shards of glass littering the ground underneath them. The ground bears an impact crater, where the asphalt playspace in the front of the school used to be––evidence of something big falling here.
The reports had mentioned a secondary portal opening, though that one was permanently closed when the agents on site blew it to hell. Literally.
You frown as your eyes dart over the asphalt field and the darkened sky. There's something… wrong here.
"Hey, Sean." You prompt as he climbs out. "You notice anything weird with this place?"
The Dullahan looks around, eyebrows furrowing as he makes the same connection as you. A frown crawls its way across his cream cheese face. "Yeah," he begins, glancing at you, "it's dark here, too dark for how long we were travelling here."
"I was thinking the same thing." You nod, pulling out a pen and paper to make a note of it. "Well, we'd best get going." You say as the rest of the group piles out.
And you do so, passing through an empty door frame and entering the school. The mostly-tiled ground is littered with deep gouges and the occasional empty casing that a scavenger missed. Overturned tables and cracks in the walls––a hole in the ceiling would let in light, had the sun been up at the time.
Together with Sean, you head into the East Wing, your greatcoats billowing behind you as you walk.
~~~~~~~
(Do You Find Something? Or Does Something Find You?: 2, well that's an odd one)
~~~~~~~
(Perception Roll DC 15: 18+10=28, success. Your rolls today are weird, ngl)
(Sean's Perception Roll DC 15: 66, success)
You're emerging from the seventh room you've checked, a science room, and are in the process of heading towards the eighth when you freeze, as does Sean beside you.
In the near absolute quietness of the school, where the only noise is the whistle of the wind and the thumping of your own footsteps, the loud talking coming from down the hall is like thunder to your ears.
The sudden glaring light coming from down near the main entrance isn't helping much, either.
"Hey guys," the loud voice begins from down the hall, speaking towards a cameraman, "and welcome back to another one of our exploration streams."
You and Sean share a look as you process the words, dawning horror on your faces as you realize what you're looking at here.
"Today, we're taking a look at the old Waterhaven Elementary School, in good ol' Chicago. Yes, chat," who the hell is chet?, "I am talking about that Waterhaven, the one where 400 kids were whisked away to the depths of hell." His voice sounds like a well-oiled machine, like he's practiced this many times before.
You sigh, as does Sean. Pulling out your communicator, you call up the other two teams. "Team Two here, we've got what appears to be a…" you look at Sean, who mouths the word 'streamer' at you, "streamer? A civilian in the school, we're gonna go escort him out, over"
"Team One received, over." Amelia's curt voice answers, a thrum of emotion in her voice that blows all previous encounters with her out of the water.
"Got it, stay safe. Team Three received, over." Jess confirms she got it as you turn to Sean. You open your mouth and start discussing how to do this.
How do you approach this?
[ ] Just get them outta here with whatever force is necessary.
[ ] Approach with words and reason, perhaps they'll understand and leave easily.
[ ] Write in
~~~~~~~
GM's Note: wtf, my sense of time is so screwy. Days just keep blending together! Sorry for the lateness. Voting will be called tomorrow at 6 PM, CST. Thanks for reading and voting.
)