Dark*Matter: Discovery, the Beginning

[Falkus]

"If you want to quit your job and work full time at the Institute if you get in, then that's fine," Angelena stated. "But it's also encouraged for field agents to continue with their previous employment as a cover job. We can sort things out with your boss to ensure that you get the time off needed to perform duties."

"You'll be told exactly what the job entails at the address in two days, and then you'll be required to make your final decision as to whether you want in or not."

"Now, if there are no further questions, I've got some reports to file," Angelena concluded, then left, going back into the crowd of police officers.

iwatt
[sblock]Larry and Janet have a wonderful time, thanks to the generosity of the dead agent, though Janet's still a bit shellshocked over the events of the evening.

Your investigations mostly only turn up what must be the public face of the Hoffmann Institute. A think tank founded in 1917 with two divisions, administrative and research, and offices in many major cities, including Chicago. They do have an official interest in the supernatural, but officially, they're a skeptics group, finding normal, rational explanations for the supernatural. Given what you know now, this has to be a cover.

A bit deeper poking does find out that the Hoffmann Institute has quiet relations with several major corporations, all of which have made at least one innovative, unprecedented and highly profitable technological development in the last fifty years.

One of your more technical contacts tells you that nobody has ever managed to hack through the security of the Hoffmann Institutes computer system.[/sblock]

 

[industrygothica]

Nick quietly gathers his his belongings, including all the notes he was working on before the night's events unfolded. He walks alone back to his car where he drives back to his hotel room. The sound of the road is the only noise, and Nick couldn't even hear that, he was so engrossed in his thoughts. Yes, he would go to the Hoffmann Institute in two days, and he would join them, if he was offered.

Nick inserts the keycard in the door of his room, waiting for the red light to turn green. He sets his briefcase on the dresser, trying to put past few hours behind him, at least for the next few minutes. He sits on the corner of the bed and picks up the phone.

"Hi baby, it's daddy..."

 

[Friadoc]

After all the talking is done, Cade will turn and head into the parking lot, climbing into an old, customized International Scout whose engine turns over on the first try. He's been working on it again.

While the Scout warms up Cade's thoughts turn to tonight's events, as well as his part in them, in the shooting. It's not an easy thing, knowing that you could try and kill someone, even though Cade always thought he could, if he had to. But, it's not the same, theory and practise.

After a couple of minute, Cade flips the stereo on and some Pink Floyd's 'On the Run', from The Dark Side of the Moon, ironically, is playing on his MP3-fed system.

"Nice," says Cade with a half-smirk on his face. Before pulling out, Cade reaches behind is passenger seat and flips the tie-down loose from the holster for his rifle. It is doubtful that anything will happen on the ride back to his apartment, but it was also doubtful that there would have been a gun turned chair battle with a skeletal warrior in a library.

Over the next two days, Cade will do research on the Hoffmann institute, as well, but he'll focus not only on his technological contacts, both within and without the security community, but also his more fringe folk, like the conspiracy types that hang out on Coast to Coast AM type boards.

While he'll never divulge his own contact with the group, he will scour the web on his down time, in between contract jobs and workl.

OOC

Basically, Cade's just burning time, as he knows he'll say 'Yes' and hopefully be able to join Hoffmann.

 

[Falkus]

Two days pass, and eventually you all arrive at the address you were given at the right time. The building is a small, one story house in a residential neighborhood filled with similar houses for the upper-middle class. The door's unlocked, and allows you access.

A long table is in the living room, with various chairs around it. The chair at the head of the table is occupied by a man with black hair, black sunglasses and a black suit. Several folders are lying on the table in front of him.

"My name is Mr. Smith," he said, simply. "I am the head of Human Resources at the Hoffmann Institute. Please be seated, and we will begin."

Friadoc
[sblock]Your tecnological contacts let you know that nobody has ever managed to penetrate the computer security of the Hoffmann Institute. Your fringe science contacts tell you that agents working for the Hoffmann Institute always turn up at very public sites of the paranormal, but act as skeptics, finding various scientific and down to earth explanations for the paranormal.[/sblock]

 

[iwatt]

Larry had come in MiB attire himself. An armani black suit of course. It had cost him dearly, but the effect it produced was worth it. Handing over the card he'd received, Larry holds a seat for Meredith, before sitting down to face Mr Smith. Smith? And I'm Mr Jones.

Leaning backwards, a slight grin appears in Lary's face. "Well, here we are, ready for your sales pitch. I guess this is the part were you explain what's the going rate for mummy slaying?"

 

[yestotom]

As usual. Cyrus arrives a couple of minutes early. He sits in his car, parked along the street, reliving the events from two nights ago. There is no questioning the adrenaline rush and the actual thrill that long outlived the natural chemical high. Yes! I want to do this. As he sees a couple of other cars pull up and his watch approaching th appointed hour, Cyrus gets out and walks to the front door with the other familiar faces.

"My name is Mr. Smith," he said, simply. "I am the head of Human Resources at the Hoffmann Institute. Please be seated, and we will begin."

"Hi. My name is Cyrus. Cyrus Lane Diffenderfer," Cyrus says. As he extends his arm for the traditional handshake, he adds, "But I guess you already know that," with a smile that belies his self-satisfaction with his attempted humor-making.

 

[industrygothica]

Nick nods and extends his hand. "Nick Wells," he says quickly as he turns to shake the hands of the others who've already arrived. He finally take his seat, albeit a bit nervously. "Gee, I kind of feal like this is all a movie or something," he says with a nervous chuckle. "Like I'm going to wake up, and life as I know it is going to turn out to be a complete lie." He starts to chuckle again, but then suddenly realizes with an accute seriousness that that is exactly what has already happened. Now, deep in ponderous thought, Nick sits back and waits for Mr. Smith to begin.

 

[Shayuri]

Meredith hurries in, cursing downtown traffic as she goes. She's a bit awkward in her heels, but makes it to the table where she manages to shake Smith's hand and plunk her purse down. She's dressed professionally, beige blouse and brown skirt with a long coat over it. This time she's wearing a pair of glasses too; small, round thin-rimmed lenses perched atop her nose.

"Meredith Rosenburg," she says, breathing a little hard. "Sorry I'm almost late. Parking's a...well, anyway. Hi, everyone."

 

[kinem]

The past two days have been uncomfortable for Diego. After the library, he had gone to the hospital to have his wound checked. The wait was the worst part of that, and the doctor said he would be fine.

Explaining to his mother just how he had come to be knifed while on a simple trip to the library had not been easy. Fortunately he could point to the news report, as evidence that he had not fallen back in with the old gang. Only the fact that he'd gotten a job offer seemed to mollify her.

He'd tried researching the Institute, as well as magic, on the internet. But he hadn't turned up anything much, just public information.

Now, he wears his leather jacket as he strides in to the job or interview or whatever it was, late as usual.

Mr. Smith! He goes for the obvious. "I'm Mr. Anderson."

No one seems much amused, so he says "Mr. Diego Borges."

 

[Friadoc]

Waiting outside, counting those who enter, Cade waits until the last of those who received Hoffmann's offer have arrived and enter. After locking up his Scout, he heads into the one-story house.

Dressed simply, Cade is wearing a tan, denim shirt tucked into a green pair of canvas cargo pants. Upon his feet are a pair of worn, but cared for brown hiking boots. Over all of this is his trusty brown-leather jacket.

"Hi," says Cade as introductions go around. "The name's Cade Black, nice t'meet you all and to be here."

"So, what's the plan, Mr. Smith?" Cade asks as he finds a place to lean against the wall and listen.