The Lupine Virus RPG

Exposure: Day #1

“If you are joining us right now, America is once again under attack. About forty minutes ago, a missile detonated in the air above the metropolitan area of Boston. The explosion has released a chemical agent that has contaminated the area with a deadly virus that…” The new anchor paused for a moment to double check the report on the paper in front of her to see if what she was about to read was correct. She turned towards her floor director and brought her hands up in a questioning gesture to see if the material was confirmed. The director slowly nodded his head, still unable to believe the report that he had passed on to the anchor earlier. The anchor faced the camera and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, the explosion has released a chemical agent that has contaminated the area with a deadly virus that turned the majority of the civilian population into biological mutants.”

Exposure Day #4

“Day four into our coverage of the Lupine virus that has infected the population of Boston Massachusetts. The military has completed the quarantine action and now the majority of the city is surrounded by a five story concrete perimeter wall with a 24-hour surveillance of the...” The anchor was then interrupted by a message from her earpiece. “We have breaking news, the President is expected to make a statement about this situation.” The screen went black for a moment and then turned to a room with an empty podium and the White House logo on the wall behind. A familiar face known to almost every person in the world had entered the frame and stood behind the podium. The President of the Untied States adjusted the microphone in front of him then took a deep breath. “Good evening. Tonight I can report to the American people that we have conducted a successful operation that has captured the bio terrorist responsible for the attack on the city of Boston. Liam Szever, also known as the mutant fugitive “Canine” is now in American custody. He will answer for one the worst attacks in American history, thank you.”

OOC & Rules

"Wake up!" An angry shout followed by a slap against Liam's face brought him back to the conscious world. His head felt heavy and vision blurry as he tried to look up towards the man in front of him. "Welcome back to Boston you piece of sh*t." The man spoke again before throwing a punch that connected with Liam's temple. His eyes widened as the painful sensation overwhelmed him. "Mr. Dascomb, that is enough for the moment. Let our guest recover his senses so that he can answer our questions." Another voice echoed in the small dark room, it's source was a speaker against the far wall beside a large pane of one-way glass. "Yes sir." Liam's interrogator answered as he backed away from the prisoner. Liam's sight had become clear now and looked around the room. The room was the size of a jail cell with the majority of the walls constructed of steel and the ground made of concrete. Mathew Dascomb stood by the door, arms folded across his chest and the look of pure rage inhabited his face. The man's white dress shirt and black tie were stained with Liam's blood who had found himself restrained to the chair in the middle of the room. "Why the Hell am I here?" Liam asked with a raspy voice. Dascomb then approached and threw several more shots that battered against Liam's now fragile skull. "Mr. Dascomb! I said that was enough! Do I need to remove you from the premises?" The voice echoed from the speaker once more, which forced the interrogator to back off once again shaking his head as a response to the question. "Very well, Liam Szever. You are held in a military installation just outside of the quarantine zone of Boston, the city that you unleashed a biological agent upon it's civilian population four days ago. We want to know where the launch codes for the other missiles are?"

Liam looked towards the glass with a confused expression. "What launch codes? What other missiles?" He asked. Dascomb cracked his knuckles, he was extremely irritated by Liam. "The launch codes to the missiles targeting the three other unspecified cities that you claim will detonate in less than twenty-three hours! Where are they Mr. Szever?" The voice from the speaker seemed impatient. "I don't know! I had nothing to do with the Lupine Virus!" Liam shouted towards the glass. "We compared the DNA samples between the infected and yours, Canine. It's an exact match you b*stard. You have killed tens of thousands of people." Dascomb replied, his voice was shaking and his arm trembled from the adrenaline.

"You killed my wife!" Dascomb shouted, attacking with a frenzy of punches. "Get security in there I want Mr. Dascomb detained. NOW!" Within seconds four armed men had entered the room, two of them aiming their sidearms towards Mathew as the other two struggled to pull the crazed interrogator away from the bloody mess that was Liam. "I... Wish I... Really did, Dascomb." Liam said with a smile between fits of coughing up blood. "I'll Kill You!" Dascomb screamed at the top of his lungs, his eyes burning with rage as he was being removed from the room.

After fifteen minutes of absolute silence, the door opened and a man dressed in a black suit had entered.He looked at Liam with surprise as the wounds received from Dascomb had vanished. "My name is Walter Miller, Mr. Szever. That was my voice on the intercom." He closed the door behind him and scratched at his beard. "I would apologize for Mr. Dascomb's actions but you deserve as much pain as you have inflicted on this country. However we need the locations of the launch codes and the missiles, also we need the locations of the cities you have targeted." Walter's voice was stern, his eyes serious as they glared at Liam, who shook his head in response. "I don't know, sir. Like I said I had nothing to do with the Lupine Virus, I have been framed." Walter approached and crouched down to meet Liam eye to eye. "You are lying. We have a letter from you taking responsibility for Boston and will attack three more cities with the same virus tomorrow. So, answer my questions now, willingly, or we will force you to answer them."

Liam leaned forward and smirked. "I would like to see you try."

A pin sits against a politicians throat, such a simple device one would think. Outfited however is the pen making it a tool for the games of assassination, the art of taking life.Its something the killer knows well something known on an almost intimate level. For the one with the weapon this has been their life, their existance as if all emotion has been slain to make them but a weapon. Many could, have and had claimed to be a living weapon. Few however can say they really fit the title as her. This woman who silently and violently executed every guard in this home. Who converted a simple pin of a politician to be a knife perfect for the power nulifying tech of the compound. Who could be so subtle as to have had the pen planted and gained the trust of these people. Now she had a politician grasping at her every motion because even the slightest gesture could bring about the end of ones life. The tip of the covert blade digs ever so gently into the veins so easy it is to part flesh. One singular red drop runs along the politicians neck flowing downwards like a calm river until it sploches the alabaster button up shirt. Theres a tension in the air, the TV shows subtle clues of the woman her physique and almost empty eyes primarily. And like so many souls confronted with their end the politician begins to plee.

He tells about how "You can't do this we work for the same people." The pin does not budge even the slightest. "I can pay you tripple what they're paying you I swear" such are the next words, predictable ones, her finger seems to circle the button teasing the mans attempt. "Please I was going to propose to my girl friend tomarow, I have a little girl." Sympathy, how quaint, she had none. That girl would still have a mother, more fortunate then the killer even then. Besides it was nothing personal just business, the pin pushes itself deeper, the river begins to rush out as the pin is pulled free. A soft brown eye goes to the television watching the news as the politician slowly bleeds to death. There is a thread of humanity in the killer, another killer is the pulse to this walking blade. And that pulse seems to have a dagger creeping towards it acused in a false manner, she has no time to rest.

Bullets vs Points

Heading towards Boston was a advanced helicopter looking more like a movie space craft then say a Blackhawk. There was no pilot but rather machines taking them forward. It had landed and picked up Cain first before heading to D.C where Scarlett could be found. Once the pair was onboard a computer screen projected a hologram of Evie, Rayne being one of the few who knew the woman was not just in league with the Secretary of Deffense but also Syapt. The well dressed blond woman looked entirely real other then traces of light around her. The cool blue and sharp orange served to light up the choppers interior.

"Good evening Cain" the hologram saluting before nodding to Rayne. "Your currently onboard a autopiloted hellicopter. It will send an alarm alerting you when its been targeted. Its stealth doesnt go to far as its best to let it go down anyways. Should give you some time as being thought dead and as such not a threat. As you know Liam has been taken captive acussed of releasing a virus on the community. Those not flatlineing from the virus tend to turn becoming basically zombies with claws." The full analysis was that it reduced the brain to basic levels feeding, canibalism nothing to grotesque to the degenerate. It also led to the growth of claws a process which also distorted the arms appearence as marrow was pulled apart from the limbs for claws in some manner. "You'll be dropped as close to the edge of the quarentine as possible. The compound here" a realistic yet digitalized hand poking a structure on a map. Near it was a wall surounding the city, its production fast so it wasn't fool proof but it would keep the infected in and the rest of the world out. Airspace also on lockdown anything in would be shot down, which was coming soon.

Red lights began to flash, they had a few minutes before a surface to air missile reduced them to debris around the court house. In a rush Rayne ditched the suit revealing she wore to blend in with the politician. Beneath it ofcourse being the standard uniform she wore. Following which she grabbed a P90 off the wall. The subamachine gun equiped with all three firing options and a fifty round clip from design. The lethal assassin also attatched a barrel and scope, to make it more tacticaly sound. The standard sight attatchment had two zooms for mid and long range, the one pressented also containing various sights such as night and infrared. The scope reduced sound and recoil without a sillencer so as to avoid a loss of damage capacity. She connected it to her back with another three magazines. Normally Razor didn't pack a firearm of any sort given the situation though a more tactical ranged option was preffered. "Don't let emotions gauge your actions. Know your perfessionals but still they're people. I don't want you sliping up just to avoid taking a life when its allready gone." The hologram spoke as a door opened near the back air rushing into the cabin.

"Dont have emmotions to be effected" Rayne remarked looking back giving a confident wink. With that she jumped from the hellicopter giving way to free fall.

"Shes lying, keep an eye on her. She called you because she knew you could handle the situation. Rayne also contacted you because somewhere in her warped mind you count as a friend....dont mention she cares though she'll likely drive a blade into your temple." Evie sheding a bit of light on the situation before the marksman could jump.

Rayne fell fast having added weight by bringing a shield of metalic marrow covering her arms. Careful motion made to point downwards to avoid as much damage as possible. Her plumet down almost more like a bullet than a person soon enough the roof of a hotel growing large. A small gap in the shield revealing where she was. The roof toor open splintered wood flying, then sevral floors with a forced opening as well. Fliping on the last floor and slaming into the ground. Graceful motion directing the shield into spikes that flooded the room like shrappnel of a gernade. Spikes pinning a few infected to the walls, Razor raising the submachine gun ending them. Making a clear 'LZ' for Cain, that is if a beet up hotel room could be titled such.