B.P.R.D. Issue #1 "City of Night"

[Sollir Furryfoot]

Andy

Andy smiles and waves the professor goodbye before running off to grab his equipment and then change before joining the others at the plane. He holds his arm tenderly, after all, that rusty metal bucket passing for a superhero shook it way too roughly. A mental note about not shaking the hands of ancient relics is created.

Clothed now in a plain, bright red and black T-shirt and a comfortable-looking pair of jeans, he approaches the area where the others are. He makes it a point to find himself in the presence of the priest, wearing an expression of awe and wonder at the saintly figure. "Wow, that staff is like...supremely cool. Is what that stuff you said in the room about God calling you to do this and all true? That's like...awesome." The tone of his voice is slightly annoying, in that little-kid-being-excited way, but his questioning sounds totally innocent. "Oh, my names Andy by the way, what's yours?"

If possible, Andy tries to get a seat with him on the plane. "Wow, now that I'm finally on this vehicle, I'm actually getting kinda scared...Those Ragna Rok people sound like serious baddies."

 

[Velmont]

"You know what I think we need? A boat, a good sturdy boat. Riding on the ocean waves is a wonderful experience. I'm sure you would all enjoy it much more than flying."

"Sorry, but nothing is more thrilling than flying, but I am not talking flying in one of these metal can, I talk floating on the wind, it is the most interesting experience that my magic have given me. And for having already taken the boat, I prefer to stay on the coast and smell the good fresh air of the sea from there. I'll let the seas to Poseidon."

 

[Drakknyte32]

"Sorry, but nothing is more thrilling than flying, but I am not talking flying in one of these metal can, I talk floating on the wind, it is the most interesting experience that my magic have given me. And for having already taken the boat, I prefer to stay on the coast and smell the good fresh air of the sea from there. I'll let the seas to Poseidon."

"Oh flying with magic is okay. Magic is a good, natural, understandable force. It's just these strange metallic contraptions that I don't trust."

 

[Acid_crash]

Prophet

"Thanks for your kindness Professor Corrigan and God bless you," Xavier says with genuine afflection as he follows the rest to Supply.

When he walks he walks with an air of confidence around him, his robes swaying around him and giving the appearance that he could be floating, if one couldn't see the sandles on his feet connecting with the floor. Each person he passes he knods to, to let them know he noticed them.

When offered equipment, Xavier replies, "I appreciate your offer of equipment, but I don't require them when the Lord blesses us on our journey to defeat evil. However, because we are going into the desert, a pair of your sunglasses won't be so bad. Thank you, and God bless you."

Xavier leaves the man and walks with the rest of the group towards the transport, when...

Clothed now in a plain, bright red and black T-shirt and a comfortable-looking pair of jeans, he approaches the area where the others are. He makes it a point to find himself in the presence of the priest, wearing an expression of awe and wonder at the saintly figure. "Wow, that staff is like...supremely cool. Is what that stuff you said in the room about God calling you to do this and all true? That's like...awesome." The tone of his voice is slightly annoying, in that little-kid-being-excited way, but his questioning sounds totally innocent. "Oh, my names Andy by the way, what's yours?"

If possible, Andy tries to get a seat with him on the plane. "Wow, now that I'm finally on this vehicle, I'm actually getting kinda scared...Those Ragna Rok people sound like serious baddies."

Xavier smiles kindly at the youngster as he asks the questions. "Thank you Andy for your wonderful compliment about this....supremely cool....staff, but it's not mine, it's a gift from our Heavenly Father. I desire not to use it's power unless I must, but when evil is rising I feel that the time will come to use it."

He pauses when they climb into the vehicle, and he takes a seat towards the back. When the kid sits next to him, he continues, "Let's also not forget that Ragna Rok is a very dangerous enemy, not just of us on this plane, but of all life. I would say they are, as you put it, serious baddies. Of the most dangerous and vile kind. (He speaks the last with a grave undertone and deep voice)"

When everyone is finally in, he bows his head and begins to say a prayer. It's not a long prayer, but one he feels he must speak before the transport takes off.

After the prayer, he glances at everyone in turn, locks eyes with each, and nods.

 

[Radiant]

Lia

I shall be your pilot for this flight, so please check and store your baggage inside. We will be leaving in 22 minutes, so if you want to stretch a bit, before take-off now would be the time… we have a nice little trip in front of us, but there is a bar and food on board. All the chairs are rather large and should allow you to sleep comfortably. The weather looks good, and I don’t anticipate any problems. Welcome aboard this here flying brick and I do hope we all have a pleasant flight…”

Without a words Lia sets her watch for twenty minutes and with a nod to the pilot heads of to walk along the airfield for a while.
To her own surprise she again finds herself in agreement with that strange piece of rusty old armor but ads nothing.

She walks aimlessly for the next 15 minutes and sometimes just stops, her heightened scent picking up smells she didn't know before and generally enjoys being out in the open.
Still she returns shrotly before takeoff and sits herself to the opposide end from Xavier.
On the bright side I get some distance from the anoying kid that way too.
She will fumble with her seat for a while, not too sure how it works before she mananges to lower the back enough to lie comfortably.
Her mood has brightenend considerably just from the short walk and from what she has seen in the flight just before she is quite sure that this thing is a lot more secure than the planes she knew in her time so she just stretches and relaxes.

After the prayer, he glances at everyone in turn, locks eyes with each, and nods.

Then he looked at everyone before Lia still had her shades on and just ignored him but this time he hits her eyes right on and she can't ignore that. Her yellow eyes stare back at him in disgust but somehow his total calm makes her look away.
"Oh spare me that crap."

 

[Sollir Furryfoot]

Andy

Originally posted by Lia
"Oh spare me that crap."

Amen to that. Andy thinks as he eagerly returns the nod to the prophet.

 

[Keia]

Michael stowed his black leather garments in his room and made for the airfield.

“ . . . All the chairs are rather large and should allow you to sleep comfortably. The weather looks good, and I don’t anticipate any problems. Welcome aboard this here flying brick and I do hope we all have a pleasant flight…”

Almost immediately after Redfield was finished speaking, Michael entered the plane to select a seat. Looking at the sight lines to the possible entrances on the plane, Michael selected his seat based on his ability to draw and fire into those lines of sight. He kept his backpack and gear with him on the plane (either on the seat next to him or on the floor beside his seat).

He got as comfortable as he could in his seat and prepared to make the journey, eyes half-closed as he rested, but didn’t sleep. He didn’t want the nightmares to come again, not on an airplane.

 

[Karl Green]

After everyone gets settled in for the flight, Redfield enters the planes and heads for the pilots cabin. Over the loud speakers he says “Kindly take your seats and strap yourselves in, we are about to take off.” And the plane idles up and heads to the runway without delay. After a short wait the plane is off and heading over the Atlantic in no time. The hours drone by through, with little happing. There are movie laptop systems built into every seat that people can watch a wide selection of movies and documentaries. The additional correspondents of Sterne’s are available in a dossier that was dropped off by another B.P.R.D. field agent before take-off. They include letters to a number of different people within the Nazi party and government, about North African history and how Aryan Peoples played a piedmont role in its history of the region.
[Anyone wishing to read these for more then an hour (there are copies of about a hundred letters, research papers, proposals, grant applications, etc) may make a Profession (Research) or a Search roll and let me know what the result is]
Just over 9 hours later, Redfield’s voice is hear over the speakers again waking anyone asleep “Lady and Gentlemen, I am about to make our final approach into Mali capital Bamako, kindly return to your seats and strap yourselves in. We should be landing in 10 minutes; it is 1:52am local time.”

True to his word the jet quickly touches down without problems on the Mali tarmac and taxies to a stop near the airport terminal. The night’s sky is very clear and a bit chilly (they roll up a debarking stairs, as the terminal is not very modern). The party is meet by a strange looking little man who introduces himself as Greoire Montaigne, with a heavy French accent he says “Top of the morning to ye, one and all. Hopin ye flight was a pleasant one, cause now the fun does begin, no what I mean? Well then this way to be pride and joy, the Flying Dutchman, HA, that’s a laugh, no what I mean? Here we go here we go… off to the great unknown? Well Mother, Marry and Juab, I’ll get you right, no what I mean. Here we are, here we are, load up and all aboard. Just finishing refueling and we be off, off we go to Timbuktu, Saints alive.” The party is lead to a two-engine prop cargo plane that has been converted to carry passengers in the front, and still cargo in the back. It looks to be 20 or 30 years old, but it is clean and looks to be in good condition. Of course any who linger outside watch in horror as Montaigne is fueling the plane from a near by fuel truck, he strikes up a match and lights a long cigarette, standing near some spilled gas. Whether by dumb luck or divine intervention there is no explosion and he finishes refuel, chatting to himself and the saints and anyone around absent-mildly. “Well now, here we go, here we go, Timbuktu, great place to visit in the winter, no what I mean? OK all aboard, lets get a going, got be back for evening mass tonight, bless the traveler and all that, know what I mean?”

While this flight is far bumper then the one on the corporate jet, the plane still makes good time to Timbuktu, arriving just around sun-rise. Anyone looking out the windows can see that it is a desert town of good size. Checking recorders the population is around 30,000 at this time. For a quick history lesson, if anyone read up on the area, Timbuktu is on the southern edge of the Sahara Desert, a few miles north of the Niger River. In the Middle Ages, it was a rich city where desert caravans met traders from the south to deal in gold, salt and slaves. The Emperor of Mali built famous mosques and colleges, and recruited countless scholars. It went into decline after the Empire fell, the French didn’t do very much for it, and the old trade patterns are now all but vanished. However of late, international organizations have been trying to preserve the great mosques and the medieval libraries, and there is a small tourist trade that has grown up over the years. The area is mostly peaceful, with some rare banditry and petty crimes.

The plane lands on a dusty airstrip as the wind picks up a bit, causes a hazy view of the area. There are two people here to meet the party, a short, broadly-built, older African American that you recognize as the historian Dr. Reginald Clay and another chap who is dressed in a worn police Captains uniform, smoking a fat cigar.

 

[Velmont]

During the trip, Paul read the documentation, but the late hour make him feel sleepy, and the words slip in his mind.

OOC: Search roll: 3 + 4 = 7

When the plane finally stop at Timbuktu, Paul get out of the plane and take a deep breath.

"There must be no humidity in the air... not best for the lung, but aleways better than the smell of that plane.

Mister Clay, I am happy to meet you. I am Paul Decker. I have read about your former works a bit. It was pretty interesting. On what are you working now?"

OOC: As Paul have studied in History, I have assume he had at least heard a bit about Clay. But as Paul havn't had the time to publish many articles before his emprisonement at the BPRD, I doubt many historian knows me.

 

[Karl Green]

[OCC - Paul learns nothing really extra is learned from Sterne's correspondents]

Dr. Clay smiles and shakes Paul's hand, and offers it to the rest of the party. He indicates the police officer next to him and says "A pleasures to me you Mr. Decker. Allow me to introduce you to Captain Aziz El Ouaqid, who is head of police here in Timbuktu.”

The man nods his head but does not offer his hand. He says “Welcome to the Sahara. We have vehicles to transport you to either the Hotel DeGaul, where we have made reservations for you if you wish to… tidy up after your trip. Or we can take you to where ever you wish to go. I have two drivers at your disposal if you desire, or you might drive yourself.” He seems to look at Lia a bit longer then one would consider proper and he stares openly at the Red Knight… not really sure what to make of the… ‘suit’. After a moment he looks to Dr. Clay “Well I must return to be duties, I leave them in your capable hands doctor. Please enjoy your stay in my beautiful city. I hope that this… incident can be clean up quickly and quietly. Good day to you all.” He bow slightly and then heads to a waiting police car with a couple other police officer standing by, gets in the back seat and drives off, not stopping to answer any questions, even if propped directly.

Dr. Clay clears his throat with some embarrassment and says “Well then, where would you like to be off to? I was told by the embassy to help you and any way that I can.”