|
|
Post by Tacey Epona on Aug 10, 2014 20:31:41 GMT -6
I DON'T need the promise of
HEAVEN. | Without her visor, the woman was not more accessible. Pretty (though not what she would usually find appealing, a pestering voice in her head commented) with unusual gray irises. She gave a brief second of thought to wondering if the appearance was her natural one - there was a picture in Kexis' file, but she couldn't recall it for comparison's sake.
She didn't want the donor found, she thought with an unusual cruelty. She wanted the elimination of possibility. Should Domhan Tir, Hyrst even, discover the experiments, more than that, discover the direct evidence of those experiments, there would be those that would condemn Aquavia to their fate. The nation was impetuous, reaching beyond what they deserved, oh, she heard it all. Aquavia walked a fine line between ethical and immoral that few outsiders quickly comprehended. Even with their best efforts, they still relied on imports from the other nations and beyond the banal economic motives, having their borders closed was a statement that reached far beyond her and her comrades. The need for aid in the future was a contingency that needed to be expected - having the nations disavow her own was like hacking away at their own safety net.
"The donor was labeled K-Z. It..." Tacey paused. By the terms of the government, her own words written and said, the donor was an it, an experiment. It felt distressingly callous. She'd go with her first instinct. "She has the intellectual capability of a full-grown adult but only academic knowledge to rely upon. Still, the safe assumption is that she will be going under an alias. While she was constructed to have certain attributes, she is not indestructible. Her healing was increased and her skin is resistant to fire, though I expect neither will be an issue."
Tacey ran her fingers through her hair, unintentionally tousling it. "She'll likely know that someone is after her, if the team previously assigned hasn't made it explicit. You're the only one currently designated to retrieve her, though I can make back up available if necessary." Her tone implied that necessary meant bleeding out in a ditch with no hope of recovery and little less. This was, perhaps, the reason she had never been assigned a team during her time with the guardians; she cared, could care, deeply, but when people were out of her sight, she had a tendency to leave them alone.
"You are given leeway to use anything in your arsenal and will have fund at your disposal. If possible, K-Z is to be returned to a HDI facility. Otherwise..." Tacey broke off. She would give the order when it was needed. No need to anticipate that it would not go as smoothly as desired.
Tacey looked over Kexis, tawny eyes narrowed in consideration. "What's the extent to which you can alter your appearance?" Partially, the question was made out of innocent curiosity, a mere inquiry to how the gods (god) had blessed her, from one gifted to another. But, clear as glass, was the primary reason - how could she use her skills on this mission?
| evening. words. kexis
[katya of ote]
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Kexis Ragnarok on Aug 10, 2014 21:04:36 GMT -6
I see you... KEXIS RAGNAROK SPECIALIST - SNIPER NIGHTRAID CODENAME: GHOST
| TIt seemed this woman was on a higher food chain. Perhaps this donor had caused enough trouble to catch her attention.. that's how it appeared. Kexis was no stranger to the severity of the situation. Those that knew about the HDI - how little they were - had split in two over its 'ethical' standing. There were those that wanted to protest against it, call the doctors and scientists monsters for their creations and methods. Then, there were those who gladly took the medical treatment that the donors enabled them to achieve when necessary. It was a glorious life to accept, really... at the expense of another. But that was where the Aquavians didn't see eye-to-eye. Who's life was more important? And did the donors.. in their entirety.. deserve to be called 'alive'?
Kexis didn't care. She stood on neither side and most likely never would. She did her duty, followed orders, and performed what was expected of her. That made her think, then... of why she didn't accept a donor arm.. rather than her cybernetic. It was no secret to her Lieutenant that she more than hated the replacement prosthetic. It didn't feel like an arm to her. It was alien. Thus, she never had it on unless she was within a mission or training with her rifle. Thoughts for a later time, however, and she quickly thrusted them from her mind. It was a choice she made and it had nothing to do with where she stood on her opinions of the HDI which - she had to remind herself again mentally - she cared nothing about..
When she spoke of the donor again, obviously avoiding how Kexis labelled her, she lowered her head in a silent apology. It wasn't meant to be offensive, and so she'd hoped it hadn't been. No, the skin and healing wouldn't be an issue. The sniper shook her head and adjusted her weight-distribution slightly by widening her feet. "It won't be necessary, ma'am..." she reassured her about the back-up, giving her a dip of her chin as a stern nod. One donor and a trained, deadly, obviously hired-for-a-reason sharpshooter? There was no competition here. No hunt. Only a pick-up and delivery. It wasn't that Kexis was cocky - oh no - it was quite clear on her face that she was mature enough to be prepared of any situation. But backup?... She never called for backup. She was the backup. "Returned to the facility.. is there any order of her condition?" alive, dead, beaten, torn in two? It was an important question.. plenty of Kexis' arsenal wasn't exactly the most descrete.
The woman had changed moods, gazing at the sniper with an odd look. She was a bit taken back, in all honesty, by what seemed to be... observation. At the realization that the studying of her eyes was in-question to her abilities, she took a moment to think. What.. exactly did she wish to see? Kexis lightened her skin slowly, her hair .. melting to her loathed, brown-red.. and her eyes ringing around with a deep blue. An obvious relation to mother, father.. and brother. But this wasn't camouflaage. "Test me," she offered, eyes following the official woman while she continued to stand still at attention, awaiting any command.
coded by LILITH of ADOXOGRAPHY
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Tacey Epona on Aug 10, 2014 22:08:21 GMT -6
I DON'T need the promise of
HEAVEN. | "The preference is for her to be returned alive and unharmed," Tacey said softly. Precisely, the preference of the council and the lab from whence K-Z originated. Tacey tried to think around her own inclinations, avoiding close examination of unformed opinions. The event, damn it, had consumed her attention well enough until this point and in terms of international affairs it was so much easier to justify objectivity. The HDI was a situation where her her colleagues, her friends (the ones aware enough to know the truth of the program), called for her to care, though they would often attempt to draw her in different directions. For and against, all for reasons she needed to spend weeks parsing before she decided she was too informed to be subjective.
She was saved from slowly drowning in the mire of her thoughts, watching as Kexis changed her appearance. Or, perhaps, reverted it? The face in front of her seemed more familiar, if only because it harkened resemblance to her blood relations. Fascinating. She half wished her husband was present to tell her what was happening, deep down, when her skin lightened, hair turning auburn (that was if he was able to, or if he'd just give her that annoyed glare he got when he couldn't understand something). Now, testing her...Tacey tilted her head to the side, pondering.
"Light brown eyes-" like her own used to be decades ago, damn "-hair highlighted by the sun, dirty blonde, straight. Freckled skin, light, slightly pockmarked, inch long scar through an eyebrow. If it's within your gift, knock off a decade." An average young woman, possibly a farmer or maybe a dock worker, could hail from either Domhan Tir or Hryst with the difference practically unimportant as long as it wasn't Aquavia.
"I only ask because I don't know you, Kexis Ragnarok, so I really can't trust you yet." Tacey said it like there more than six people she actually trusted, but, hey, maybe the sniper could become one of them (the odds against it were rather high, however). "And, to be frank, the military's record of your gift is slighted over praises for your skills. Very commendable, by the way."
Tacey's file may be sealed fifteen ways to hell now, but she remembered it used to lead with an in depth essay of her ability that made her appreciate the fragments she had kept hidden. The missives she'd received on targets, years ago, had always led with gifts, their lives, jobs, families tending to rank as secondary. The sniper was talented, extremely so, for those skills to be set above it. Well, either that, or they were underestimating what a gift like this could do.
| evening. words. kexis
[katya of ote]
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Kexis Ragnarok on Aug 10, 2014 23:53:19 GMT -6
I see you... KEXIS RAGNAROK SPECIALIST - SNIPER NIGHTRAID CODENAME: GHOST
| Alive, unhamred. "Understood, ma'am," she tilted her head downwards again. If she hadn't, she might have been mistaken for a statue. The sniper's stillness and silence was almost unparallelled... not entirely different to that of an inanimate object. It was silent for quite some time, but she stood her ground and waited as the other woman seemed to ponder what to say next, where to go, what test to administer. And then, she spoke it. Light brown eyes--.. She blinked once, slowly, and a small ring of color wrapped around until fully filling the color of her irises. Another pause, and she waited patiently. The appearances of other people were not difficult images to change. Textures, heats, colors of environments.. even multiple in stacks or layers of her body -- that became more difficult.
"-hair highlighted by the sun, dirty blonde, straight." Her eyes thinned a little in curiosity at the strange, precise test for simply just hair.. Was she imagining something? Remembering something? Or just trying to make it difficult. Regardless, she did so. The dreadlocks seemed to slide like liquid downwards towards her shoulders - slightly past them - and the strands became straight before the color grew up from the tips. A few seconds before the transformation of a sun-tanned, light brunette took over her usual appearance. Just as she'd described."Freckled skin, light, slightly pockmarked," Not tanner than her pale skin already, but a different shade. Yellow.. instead of pink. Freckles marked around the tops of her cheeks and down her nose. "inch long scar through an eyebrow. If it's within your gift, knock off a decade." ...Hmn... Kexis removed her serious expression.. which was difficult. Her eyes blinked a bit more youthfully without such a stern, attentive appearance. No wrinkles, no tightened muscles. A scar, thin, began to appear above her left eyebrow before sliding down to the outside crease of her lid. One inch. It wasn't unusual to Kexis that the woman, later, spoke of lack of trust. She was Night Raid... used to that stereotype. But when she spoke her full name with no rank? It put the sniper in perspective to how high-up the woman was to not need to use any titles. Very... very high-up...
However, it made her ease up a little that she had read her work and gave it praise. Her expression and age returned as she spoke, looking straight ahead to avoid the woman's gaze for respectful purposes. "Thank you... ma'am..." she cleared her throat a little, feeling a bit awkward now that she knew she was standing in the presence of, most likely, Aquavian economic royalty who knew every, written, logged fact about her... and her brother. "If I may speak.." her eyes slid over to the side, giving her attention once more with her eyes meeting the woman's own. The mood seemed to darken around her. Or perhaps.. it was more of an 'in-confidence' tone as they'd agreed upon earlier. "To those who give me my orders?.. There is none more trustworthy than I..." she didn' waiver. Never would. She was a soldier.. not one who questioned. And never, ever, one who failed.
coded by LILITH of ADOXOGRAPHY
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Tacey Epona on Aug 12, 2014 20:02:42 GMT -6
I DON'T need the promise of
HEAVEN. | "Thank you for humoring me," she said gently, leaning more against her desk. The woman had no trouble complying, her skin changing smoothly. It was silly what she had requested and even more ridiculous that she had given such a precise description (and it wasn't like she could lie to herself about who it had belonged to or why she wanted to see it again). Tacey forced her focus away from the woman's face, letting her gaze track over the armor. She pressed her lips together.
"I'm sorry. I must amend what I said earlier. Armor like yours worries people. It would be...easiest if it wasn't seen outside our borders." The seen was an important distinction. Tacey knew it would be safest, for her and her kind, to demand it stay in the country completely, but she expected the soldier to be discrete (years of caution and frayed nerves compelled her to clarify, however) and god-forbid if there was a crisis. Tacey, in the past, had gotten away with several dubious actions because they'd never been plainly forbidden. She was not inclined to make the same mistake.
Tacey nodded her ascent for the woman to speak, noting that it was the first time she had taken the initiative to do so, and she wouldn't decline such a request. She anticipated a criticism and what she received was reassurance. Her face seemed to lighten. Rare was the assurance that wasn't utterly self-serving, one that wasn't made out of fear - nothing's wrong, wouldn't dream of bothering you over a minor problem like this - and it was almost nice.
"I appreciate that...." Tacey pressed her hands together in front of herself, rings glittering even in the dim light. "How would you like me to address you?" Oh, make no mistake, Tacey had noticed the slight discomfiture when she had used the woman's full name. And there was a case to be made for not making an issue out of it, but she was feeling indulgent.
"For the sake of fairplay, I prefer Ms. Epona, or Councilor if we chance to meet in public." She preferred the softness of Epona over Eichel, for all that it was tied to the disputable legacy of her aunt. Eichel carried the reputation of indulgence and enervation. Her taken name bore no less wealth or history, but with the addition of deserved positions and devotion to the state greater than the courtesy of not betraying it. She would have offered the use of her given name if she felt that Ragnarok would ever use it.
But, speaking of fairplay - she leaned forward with a playful glimmer in her eyes.
"Hey, mind if I show you what I can do?"
| evening. words. kexis
[katya of ote]
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Kexis Ragnarok on Aug 20, 2014 22:33:21 GMT -6
I see you... KEXIS RAGNAROK SPECIALIST - SNIPER NIGHTRAID CODENAME: GHOST
| Kexis nodded her head respectfully, slightly tilted at an angle, and allowed her appearance to return to a more 'natural' (though completely falsified) look that she'd worn most every day - the deep brown hair to her shoulders now with the dreadlocks instead of up and behind her head. Her skin darkened, her eyes dulled, and the scar vanished.
"Hm.." she understood where the woman was coming from now. Being able to trace a line back to Aquavia in any circumstance regarding this entire issue could be the cornerstone of the nation's most distressing rumor coming to light.
"No brands, no labels, no breadcrumbs. I prefer lighter weight regardless.. I'm not one for the suits the Night Raid uses. Slow, heavy.." lazy excuses for fear tactics -but she kept her mouth shut about that. Not in the presence of someone above her.. she would be nothing but respectful within this office. "It won't be an issue," another nod as she stood at attention and took a longer, steadying breath to keep herself comfortable.
"Address me?" she rose a brow, her head turning slightly while looking to the woman. Kexis thought about it... if she refused, she'd be shoving the woman's gift right back into her face. So she answered honestly. "Specialist.. Kexis... or for the sake of public safety, should we speak in person outside of privacy or on unsecured channels -.. Ghost." Each of them had their own codename. It was far safer that way.
When the woman spoke again, Kexis tried not to make her eyes widen, but rather swallowed and looked straight ahead again. Councilor.. and here she was being privately hired. No sooner had the tone of the room shifted - almost oddly - as Ms Epona leaned further out of the conversation into what seemed like a playful direction. This caught the sniper off guard.. but she responded in kind, her expression obviously confused. For one - she hadn't known the woman was gifted. And then there was the entire higher-up acting like a quietly excited child during a birthday.. Color her lost. "An honor, Councilor. Please - at your leisure." coded by LILITH of ADOXOGRAPHY
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Tacey Epona on Aug 23, 2014 22:46:59 GMT -6
I DON'T need the promise of
HEAVEN. |
"We're not in public, Specialist Kexis," she murmured with a wry grin, no true reprimand in her tone. She was mildly unsettled by the mention of Tacey's position; though she considered the council to be widely known, she was, perhaps, one of the more restrained members. Less familiar, as she preferred.
"My ability is not exactly what you'd call subtle." Or particularly useful - well, it wasn't useful to her now, to put it simply. "But it makes for a neat party trick."
There were other demonstrations she could give, ones that would indicate her actual potential, but if there was one thing her and her partner shared, it was the preference to be underestimated.
She cast her gaze behind her, searching the desk for something to use and - bingo! Allen's old pair of glasses, the ones with an unflattering large square frame. She'd bought them for him as a joke - a haha, aren't these hideous thing - but he'd just said thanks and wore them until she couldn't stand it anymore. He barely seemed to realize how terrible they were and if he'd ever been embarrassed by them it hadn't shown.
Tacey glanced up to see if Kexis was looking - as though the specialist's attention had wavered even infinitesimally thus far. She ran a finger over the polycarbonate temples of the glasses - they were substantial enough - and focused, gathering the material, the different molecules, from the air and frame. And, a half minute later, the glasses had a little cat face above each lens. Ears, pin pricked blue eyes, red button nose with the black outline of whiskers. The colors had required the majority of effort; details were always tricky. Honestly, she needed the practice this manipulation construed. Aggressive execution had been utilized often in her days of field work, primarily in apprehension, while other subsets of her gift were left undeveloped.
With a smooth motion she flicked them open and placed them on the bridge of her nose, not looking through them (the prescription was stronger than she remembered). Her face schooled with stoicism, she said "As you can see, it's quite practical."
| evening. words. kexis
[katya of ote]
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Kexis Ragnarok on Aug 31, 2014 19:48:23 GMT -6
I see you... KEXIS RAGNAROK SPECIALIST - SNIPER NIGHTRAID CODENAME: GHOST
| Kexis didn't exactly understand the necessary mention of being in public or not. She had thought that in case the time arose, the woman would need to know.. Perhaps she was showing a distaste for using the codename? It made the Specialist lift a brow and only slightly angle her head in question. Saying that she was interested in the Councillor's gift might have been an overstatement.. not exactly curious, but not unwanting either. Besides, to show her appreciation as an audience member was respectful. She was, after all, in the presence of a superior.
The woman had traced her fingers along the rim of a pair of rather old-fashioned looking glasses on the desk, casting a glance back at Kexis as if to ensure she was still paying attention. Of course.. the sniper hadn't moved so much as a hair. She stood still, at almost an uncomfortable appearing stance of textbook 'attention' just as she had the second she entered the office. Though she did force herself to lift both eyebrows if only a tad to mimic interest in watching what she did with the glasses.
Soon enough, Kexis couldn't quite explain what she was looking at. She was a soldier.. not a scientist or a scholar... Intelligent? Absolutely. Intuitive? Very much so. But she was never meant to study anything inanimate besides the ecosystem around her. All of this was beyond her. Maybe it wouldn't be if she were instructed to do otherwise - but this was not the case. She observed the images come together until eventually the woman set them on the bridge of her nose. As if Kexis had any idea what on earth had just happened....
The Specialist blinked a few times and straightened her shoulders, giving a respectful shrug. "It's impressive. But I'd be lying if I told you I understood a second of it." It wasn't her job to understand. So she simply didn't. Her head lowered a little with a somewhat apologetic nod to the councillor. Before an awkward silence ensued, it was interrupted by a thunderous rumble overhead and outside that echoed with bass tones in the office, instinctively making Kexis look upwards - though without a word - as if she could observe it any closer at this angle. coded by LILITH of ADOXOGRAPHY
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Tacey Epona on Sept 12, 2014 18:53:33 GMT -6
I DON'T need the promise of
HEAVEN. |
Thunder rumbled against the walls of her house, startlingly loud and jarring her teeth. Pleasant weather, it seemed. Tacey smoothed her ruffled feathers, and while she was still looking at Kexis, her attention had shifted past her. If she kept a task list, if she was that careless and forgetful, there would be a solid checkmark next this briefing.
"You remind me of my old partner," she said, setting the glasses down on the table, the frames returning to their original state. "Just couldn't get my sense of humor, either."
Tacey felt a vague sense of disappointment, but not with Kexis' reaction (the lack of one, if she sought accuracy). She had always tried with her partner, years ago, though if she smiled it was a miracle and therein those memories lied a sense of discontent. Perhaps the military drilled it out of them - or was it the converse, that they attracted that of certain personality type?
She heard the front door being carelessly flung open - goddammit Allen - and the faint murmur of his cool greeting to Lieutenant. He was fantastically charming in most circles, but their house was their domain and within it he let slip the veneer he wore. They had a couple of minutes until he insisted on her company (or, equally likely, that he start eating without her). Tacey went around to the other side of her desk and, with a slide of her fingers against the tech surface, opened an image file.
"This a recent picture of the donor. Commit it to memory, if you will."
| evening. words. kexis
[katya of ote]
|
|
|
