Might have tomorrow off from work!
Ren_'s forum posts
The sleek diving suit that ensconced the petite former agent was nothing short of a technological miracle. Somehow representative of her personal and fighting credence, it had only the necessities, combined with a sleek array of weaponry to choose from should the need arrive.
Mackenzie was expecting it to.
She was focused on the mission with a laser-focused intensity, but there was a marvel that one could not help but to behold in witness of the sights that were surrounding them. The oceans were the last of Earth’s unmapped terrains, and one couldn’t help but feel the size of an ant while exploring them.
Thousands of shades of blue, green, black and gray combined to paint a portrait that the wildest of imaginations couldn’t begin to fathom. It was art in motion, and truly an entirely different world.
Water sluiced around Mackenzie’s suit as she cut through the water, coming up on the flank of the Avalon expedition. Remaining a slight distance towards the right flank of the group, Renegade drank in every sight that crossed her vision.
The HUD showed an illuminated display in her visor, tracking the other Avalon members, as well as foreign organic and inorganic obstacles in the waters. It was a display that could be flicked on and off with nothing more than a spoken command.
“Coming up on your four.” Intuiting that it would be easily discernible jargon, Mac approached, the sleek black and gunmetal grey of her diving suit moving fluidly through the water, all senses, both technological and physical on the lookout for any imminent danger.
Her name was Mackenzie Sullivan, and she was the woman of a thousand names. Associated with Avalon publicly as Olivia Hurley, security expert, she was here tonight as somebody else entirely.
Hannah Abrams was an up and coming reporter, one who managed to luck out with an invite to what was one of the most exclusive press conferences to date.
In reality, the Renegade was casing it from a security standpoint. It was all well and good to have the heavy hitters on stage with Antonia, but her worry was any threats coming from the crowd, cutting them off at the source before they had the chance to endanger anybody on stage.
The Knightfalls and Kamelot were the 101 of all the threats that come out of the woodwork, and Mac had made it part of her mission and alliance with Avalon to prevent the same fate from occurring.
Embodying the essence of a stylish 'underground' blogger, Mac was more than comfortable in black leather leggings, a fitted grey v-neck and a trendy leather motorcycle jacket. A black leather flat hung off her foot as she crossed one leg over the other, schooling a sleek casualness into every movement of her body.
Eyes didn't miss a single detail of the room. She was studied in body language, and almost everybody in this room was strung tightly. But there were several people who moved with suspicious calm, and that set her off more than anything else could.
An older man approximately around forty-six years of age caught her interest. He was communicating via bluetooth, and doing so almost abnormally quietly.
Nonchalantly tucking a strand of artificially colored caramel hair behind her ear, Mac shifted in her seat. The man stood, straightened the fit of his jacket and slowly made his way towards the back of the room, where he exited, still chattering quietly on the earpiece.
Catching Santi's eye from his vantage point on stage, Mac inconspicuously held up a single finger, keeping it low, as she darted her eyes towards the back of the room, knowing that he would quickly and intuitively understand what it was that she was communicating - one possible threat, now leaving the room.
Taking a sip from the bottle of Fiji water that had been placed in front of her seat, the unparalleled agent slowly backed away, making a show of moving clumsily, her shoe hitting the leg of a chair as she exited the room.
Switching from clumsy reporter to sleek spy as she hit the end of the room, Mac immediately checked her periphery and followed the trail of the suspicious reporter.
Her intuition combined with an apt knowledge of physical and mental psychology was right on point. He was standing in the alcove outside the male's restroom, speaking quietly, on his mobile device now. The furtive tones nervous eye glances around were suspicious enough, but it was the vocalizations of what he was saying that cemented it.
"Identifying Code 8293OS. Antonia Dain just revealed herself as a vigilante, I need orders."
Dammit. She knew that code template well, too well. It was a blast from the past and one that was most unwelcome here. Should her suspicions prove correct, this was what could be the beginning of an extended op to acquire Antonia as an asset, or something worse. Neither of which was acceptable in her mind.
Extending her wrist out straight, she prepared to slide one of the carbon steel daggers from the sheath inconspicuously hidden beneath the sleeves of the leather jacket.
Amiably strolling up behind him, she utilized preternatural silence, the result of years of training in both combat and ballet. Casting directions to both sides, she slipped a hand over his mouth the moment that he hung up and dragged him into the men's room.
Hooking her arm around his throat, she pulled his back towards her chest, wrenching his other arm behind his back and utilizing her shorter height by throwing his center of gravity off balance. "You're not going to carry out any orders that command gives you." The words were whispered with almost vitriolic disgust in his ear directly prior to her kicking out his knee, resulting in a muffled scream combined with a keening whimper.
"And if I find a whisper of anybody from your organization or any other so much as thinking the name Antonia Dain or Avalon, I'm going to bring a righteous wave of fury down on your head, and the head of everybody I can find associated."
Placing an arm around his throat in a light choke hold, she whispered in his ear. "Teacht le haghaidh mianach agus beidh mé ag teacht chun mise." (Come for mine, and I will come for yours).
Holding the choke in place, she compressed his nerves until he passed out, and then retained the hold for another ninety seconds.
Wiping the palms of her hands against the side of her leggings, Renegade left the bathroom and returned to her seat in the press room, once again epitomizing Hannah Abrams as she did so.
Taking a small sip of her water while once again soaking in the information, given effortlessly by the as always calm-under-fire Ms. Dain, Mac continued scanning the room, anticipating any other possible threats.
@victorgrey: I never said that, but realistically, LL was at the forefront of this (and by at the forefront, I mean the one who recommended it for around a year, and campaigned for it). There was agreement along the way (Surkit was on board with the closing of TT and even made a poll asking if it should be locked a few months back). But let's be honest, this was LL's campaign, and she's also taking the brunt of the hate for it, seems only fair she should win out with the praise as well.
My comment was related to her drive as a whole, though, not this specifically lol