The Agency 2.0

It begins with death. Everyone dies. This is an indisputable fact of the multiverse. Whenever you are a common peasant or a galactic ruler, everyone's time comes at some point. For most, this is the end of the line before whatever rules their universe has governing the afterlife come into effect. For a select few, however, there is another choice. You were one of these people who were provided with a different choice. As you sat in the void between life and death, you were approached by one of the representatives of the Multiversal Intervention Agency, or as we refer to ourselves internally, The Agency. For one reason or another, you were designated by one of our recruiters as a potential asset to our organization. We provided you with a simple choice. You could continue on to the void of death and whatever awaited you in the beyond. Or, you could join us. In return for bringing you back from death, you would become one of our agents and be dispatched to various other worlds, where your role would be to do whatever is needed to ensure their continued survival. For whatever reason, you accepted this offer. Each agent has their own reasons. Some seek to continue the fight against "Evil". Some wish to earn redemption for actions they took in their former lives. Some simply fear the unknown void of death.

Regardless of the reason, you accepted this offer. For the first 4 days, you entered basic training. On the first day we explained in further detail to you the way our organization works. Each agent is assigned to a team of varying sizes, sorted and chosen by our employers based on their skillsets. Any questions of who our employers are were flatly ignored or dismissed as "Classified". Each team is assigned a handler, who will be the "Face" of the agency for them. Behind them in the backround is a team of supporting personnel who you may or may not meet, depending on the handler. On the second day we explained the nature of the multiverse to you, how there are many different worlds, some like your own for the most part, some completely alien. We explained to you that in order for a universe to not collapse in on itself, particular events needed to happen in a particular fashion. Most of the time our intervention is not needed for this. However, when problems arise that threaten the continued existence of the universe, this is when a team is deployed to correct the situation. The third day was spent in psychological evaluations. For those who may not have experience interacting with those outside of their native race, we attempted as best as we could to ready you for the experience, with perhaps mixed results. The forth day was spent in more traditional training, as we evaluated your skills in practical use and made final notes.

At this point, what happened next will vary. For some, this will be your first team assignment. For others, you may have been on a team before your transfer to this one and already have experience in the field. Regardless, you received a message, informing you of your new assignment and directing you to a room. This room, which you will soon learn is your new team briefing room, has a conference table in the center with the usual black chairs one comes to expect with this setup. On the sides of the room are large sofas for those who do not wish to sit at the table, as well as assorted light snacks and drinks (No alcohol). On the far wall is a large white screen of the sort used for projectors and other such things. The floors are basic, sleek wooden floors, the walls are painted light blue, and the ceiling, where there are no lights, is white. For now, this room lays empty of people. This, however, is about to change as the newly formed team begins to file in.

edited 22nd Apr '16 6:18:44 PM by Meanken

I should had seen my death coming from miles away. I was too used to normally reviving on the Fields of Justice after dying on the city state matches. Twisted Fate. Graves. They were nothing but bait for that bitch to blow me up to hell along with my ship and my crew. I bled for Bilgewater. I gave order and law to all of Bilgewater. Kept the worst of the scum in fear of me. It is mine by right. She should had died back on that workshop of her mother. Should had aimed for her head instead of the heart, but no matter. The Agency at least gave me a second chance, eventually, I'll find my way back to Bilgewater. Find Miss Fortune...

And burn everything she holds dear. Just to get even.

Gangplank, the former Reaver King of Bilgewater, enters the Conference room first, his cutlass and flintlock holstered with him, the former's tip of the blade glowing hot with whatever magic it was enchanted with.

He glances around the currently empty room, and notices the stand of food and drinks...and a extreme lack of alcoholic drinks at that. He chuckled.

"No rum? Hah! For shame."

Gangplank moved to take a seat in one of the black chairs of the table, while rummaging in the pockets of his overcoat, pulling out a orange...and started eating it.

"Ah....hit's the spot."

He enjoyed himself with his citrus fruit while waiting for the team he was assigned with by the Agency to arrive.

edited 22nd Apr '16 6:41:14 PM by Darkomega245

A few minutes after the Pirate King walked into the room to beget a feast of fruity products, the room would behold its second occupant. Dressed in what was surprisingly a private school uniform, the dark skinned woman calmly sat down in one of the various empty seats without preamble or introduction, eyes closing in thought. For all her apparent youth, the newly dubbed Shevac was one of the more mature agents despite her age. She was a professional in her past life, a mercenary who made money like Moses conjuring up food in the desert. Simply put, she was a professional.

It was not only due to this mindset that the person named Mana Tatsumiya was quiet though. Though she didn't want to reveal it, the gunner was still trying to comprehend and absorb the second chance given to her. That finality not being so final any longer was just one of many things floating around in her thoughts. Still, at the very least she was young and adaptive.

Having prior interactions with both magic and space-time, the mercenary was confident that sooner or later mental equilibrium would be regained and she could be at her peak once more. Confidence and a steady mindset were an absolute necessity for what she did, there could be no hesitation nor pause. As such, the middle school student continued to use the precious peace to stabilize herself, a job that took naught much time.

The darkness suited her just fine, being a constant companion in her life up until this point. She was sure it would continue to do so in the future as well. In fact, it was soothing and familiar, that cloak that kept her safe and allowed her to perform so well. She took comfort in it, so different from the dark of the void which was just empty. Thus did Mana Tatsumiya pass her time in an almost zen-like state, with calm acceptance for what was to surely come.

edited 22nd Apr '16 7:08:47 PM by Makaioh

Corvo Attano, former Royal Protecter and agent of the Empress walks in and sits down in one of the seats. He is dressed in his usual black coat and pants with his mask on his face. As he is sitting, he looks around at some of his new teammates.

A pirate and a teenager. If we're striving for stealth, I would put them in the back. Even if they were a natural, they couldn't have had much training.

He looks back towards the door for newcomers.

Roman walked into the briefing room, a slight smirk on his face. A hand on his hip, swinging Melodic Cudgel by the handle in the other, he looked much like someone who really didn't mind the situation that much. He half-contemplated taking out a cigar and lighting it up, but thought otherwise, not wanting to give off a bad impression.

Don't want my new 'team mates' to think less of me, eh? Never know when I might need to use them to escape another death. I bet Little Red still thinks I'm a lunch for a Grimm. Now, just need to wait until we get to go to Remnant, and then I'll get to lay down some more ultraviolence.

Calmly sitting down at a chair, Roman leaned over, both hands resting on top of the handle on Melodic Cudgel, the cane positioned halfway between each foot. He noted that barely anyone else was talking, preferring to sit and watch for their other arrivals.

"Well, aren't we a somber bunch. You'd swear that we're acting like we're at our own funerals."

He did notice that the pirate did seem to be enjoying an orange and complaining about the lack of drink.

"See this man? He has the right idea. No time for worry or what not. We're alive, and that's all that matters. I'd have preferred some wine myself."

Geez, a pirate, a teenager, and some guy in a mask. We're really scraping the bottom of the barrel here, huh? At least Pegleg and maybe Mask Man might not be as annoying as Red. Idealism, pfft. The real world doesn't care about that.

edited 23rd Apr '16 6:12:45 AM by UndyingPhoenix

Another figure entered the room and took his seat. This newcomer was an old man, his shaggy hair and beard white streaked with grey and only a trace of the original black. Despite his age he was immensely tall, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, his body heavy with muscle and his skin crisscrossed with scar tissue. He wore black leather armor fitted with silvery steel plating under a woolen cloak, and across his back was strapped a massive, double headed battleaxe. He sat down heavily, and yawned loudly.

The daily life of Seija was better than she the usual, as of late. She had people pissed off in the management of this company, and that was the kind of spice of life she needed to make things enjoyable. In fact, considering it had been months since she had last been sent on any sort of assignment, she had nothing better to do but be a nuisance. It was mostly minor stuff, like playing short bursts of this foreign stuff called punku rokko into the halls, or trying to actively misplace supplies in the scant few places that actually had stuff lying around. This kind of fun was barely able to count as annoying, but considering she was treading a thin line between staving off boredom and keeping her position, it was all she could get.

Then, recently (and by recently I mean "20 minutes ago") another missive reached Seija's attention. Another team, another mission, another thing to do. Finally! The halls hadn't gotten any bigger since the last mission, but she skirted the ceiling as she flew through the labyrinth of hallways and stairwells towards the meeting room.

Unlike before, there wasn't any sort of knowledge on her person as to who she was working with. She made it to the double doors leading into the conference room, and decided to make her entrance as grand as the situation could allow.

She leaned back, one foot in the air, and revved up a real slobberknocker of a kick. Without further ado, she planted her foot through the double doors and sent them slamming into their attendant walls. Standing in that door frame, she said, "Fine morning, fellow agents," in a loud, commanding and hammy voice. Her look of mild contentment shifted as she looked around the room. "...I thought that a lot more people were going to see that." Her whole plan, and the brief follow up speech she had originally come up with while traveling there, hinged on her being fashionably late and being the last one to show up. It wouldn't work if it was just these five.

Seija felt deflated after that, and she could feel the usual malaise of the Agency's atmosphere replaced her earlier pep. A good look was had at those already in attendance as she shuffled towards the table. Most of them looked like the usual human stock they seemed to favor here. The one in the robes, if it weren't for his ungloved hands she'd think he was some kind of robot, but she wasn't sure what to make of him.

Hoping to earn the eternal consternation of the interior designer of this room, Seija went without any of the provided furniture. Taking a handful of pretzels, their saltiness always welcomed, she reversed herself and sat down on the ceiling nonchalantly. "There'll be drinks when we get in the field," she said as she looked down at the bowler-hatted man. "There's alcohol just about everywhere."

edited 23rd Apr '16 12:50:36 AM by wikkit

-The rythmic clang of metal on metal approaches, joined by heavy breathing, and the Hero's Shade enters. His head turns from side to side, scanning the room and assembled agents. Heading neither towards the couches or the refreshments, he stands facing the screen, waiting for the briefing to start.-

Well. The Agency sure knows how to pick em. A girl who carries herself as a mercenary. What seems to be an masked assassin. A fancy looking gamber or criminal. Some kind of undead that wouldn't look out of place in the Shadow Isles. All of these folks would fit right on the Summoner's Rift

"Hopefully we get to keep some drinks on the way back, girl. The water in this place tastes like nothing but piss. Though I bet the people here would confiscate anything we would take from whatever place our mission is when we return, though. " Gangplank added to Seija's and Roman's conversation, while taking another bite of his orange.

The next person to enter the room was...colorful, at least in terms of attire.

A deep, purple and gold trimmed coat, overlaying a shirt and long pants, all adorned with green and gold stars of varying sizes. Atop his head was a cap of similar colors, and below the brim of that cap were glaring eyes which bore into every one of the inhabitants of the room.

It was not as though Jotaro Kujo distrusted or disliked his new, to-be teammates, no. It was just that he'd been in a team before, and for a team to work well, he needed to know them and what they could do.

Jotaro had come to terms with his death pretty well, all things considered, but he was the kind of man who wouldn't lay down and rest in peace. If there was work to be done, it would be done, and work there was.

He walked towards the couch, turned and leaned back, letting himself fall into its seat. His legs crossed as he tried to get comfortable, and a hand reached up to adjust the brim of his cap.

"Well now, you guys are my teammates?"

Jotaro spied a pirate, two teenaged girls, some flamboyant man in a cheap suit, a masked weirdo, an old man and a skeleton. Certainly more bizarre than the usual fare he worked with.

"Before this briefing starts, I'd like to get an idea of who you people are, and whatever the hell it is you guys are capable of. A team only works when we know each other well enough."

Upon hearing the question directed at large to the group, the silent Mana stirred herself from her contemplations, looking at the man with an impassive face before nodding in acquiescence. "Mana Tatsumiya, codename 'Shevac.'" The older looking than she appeared girl responded in a balanced manner, neither overbearing or subservient.

Trust was going to be in premium here in the Agency for the foreseeable future and thus the half-demonkin deemed it necessary to give out certain bits of information. "Skills are in using any type of modern day fire-arms ranging from the 1900's to the 22nd century along with throwing weapons proficiency. Also able in espionage, infiltration, battlefield survival, bodyguard work, assassinations, and exorcisms of supernatural beings such as ghosts or demons."

edited 24th Apr '16 11:07:52 AM by Makaioh

Corvo sits up straight and answers the question.
"My name is Corvo Attano, former Royal Protecter, Agent, and Assassin of the Empress. My capabilities? I've been masterly trained in swordsmanship, gunplay, stealth, and the Outsider allows me great powers to use. What about you?"

edited 24th Apr '16 11:39:03 AM by Skiller2

"Well, I was thinking," Seija replied to the thickbeard fellow, "as soon as we complete the job, we just take a little extra time and drink as much as we can. Just say we got waylaid, and the only safehouse was a tavern, right? They could allow us that much." Man, it had certainly been some time since she had anything to drink.

Another esteemed member of the agency appeared, and aside from his flamboyant clothing there was something very faintly familiar about him. Maybe the clothing style reminded her of home. Everyone here was so drab, and barely anyone seemed to have hats on. In any case, it was time to answer him.

"I'm Seija. I flip things."

This statement didn't really feel complete, so she added some clarification. "Reverse their orientation. Usually upside down." Doing her preferred dramatic gesture, flipping two outstretched fingers, she demonstrated by upending an unoccupied chair and keeping it in midair. "Like that." An awkward pause, the first of many, and she added, "It's actually a lot more useful than you think. What can you do, Half-Hat?"

Gangplank was about to reply to Seija's idea until a man with a very colourful outfit appeared, asking the people grouped here their names and abilities.

"The name is Gangplank. Former Reaver King of Bilgewater. As for my capabilities..i may not have magical powers here, but.."

He pointed to his half eaten orange.

"These beauties are one of their kind. Not only do these magical oranges can heal mortal wounds, but remove even the deadliest of magical effects. Turned to stone by a snakewoman. Forced to stare at a crazy prophet while he vomits at you and his pets start cutting you up. Being unwillingly terrified and unable to do nothing by a nightmare given a physical form. The list goes on. So we have some way to heal ourselves and deny any harmful effect."

He then took another bite.

"Though I'd only be able to have 3 in a mission. Need to keep a steady supply of them after all. Otherwise, I am deadly with a cutlass and a pistol, and I carry some barrels filled with powder...in case we need some explosions."

edited 24th Apr '16 3:03:43 PM by Darkomega245

Small footfalls were heard from tiny metal feet upon the hardwood floor as Marina entered the room. The short alien cyborg looked around at the room with curious eyes and a cautious smile. Quite the collection of characters, she judged, though none like her. She had some relief, it would be bad if she met the king or any of her late foes in here, but at least half the people in here would be at home with them, they seemed evil. Then again, this whole agency seemed... well not evil but not exactly good or nice either. As she entered and sat at the table, she heard them beginning to introduce themselves. When she saw an opening to speak she piped up "My name is Marina, the mechanian, I can jump, fly... sort of, pull up force-fields and redirect projectiles with my hands" she pulled up her hands and wiggled her fingers.

Roman pulls a cigar out of his pocket, a smirk on his face as he identifies himself.

I'm definitely gonna need a cigar with this group.

"Roman Torchwick, one of Vale's biggest criminal masterminds."

His look turns sour, though it's not from putting the cigar between his lips.

"Used to be, at least. The only magic I've got is Aura, and a silver tongue."

He pulls out a lighter and lights the cigar up, the end flaring as he takes his first puff.

"And, if need be, I can use Melodic Cudgel for a good old fashioned beating."

The tap tap tap of the cane several times against the ground emphasizes his point.

edited 24th Apr '16 10:53:46 PM by UndyingPhoenix

As the agents continued to converse, the door opened as another person entered, dressed in a trenchcoat and a fedora, along with white gloves on his hands, which were carrying a large number of files. As the agents turned to face him, they would quickly notice something very very strange about him. His face, and indeed, any area one would expect to see visible skin on his body was completely invisible. Without a word, he walked across the room to the head of the table and took a seat.

"Agents. I trust you all have had a chance to meet one another. I am your assigned handler for the foreseeable future. My assigned codename is "Handler 40392754". You may just call me "Handler", or whatever you wish to call me, although I would request you refrain from giving me demeaning nicknames. None of us are children here, yes?"

"Nope, don't think any of us are," she decided to say for the whole group. "Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm older than Mr. Wick over there by a good few years."

Looking over the group and guessing their ages, she looked at Druss and realized who he was in the first place. Someone from her old team! They'd have to talk about that later, or for that matter for the first time, since they never really got the chance to talk in the first place. Druss didn't seem like the kind for conversation, anyway.

She shrugged, and continued, "So, do you have something for us to do, Handler Four Oh Three Nine Two Seven Five Four?"

The bearded axeman stirred when they were all called on to introduce themselves. There was any number of things he could have said. Druss Deathwalker, Captain of the Axe, the Sender, Silver Slayer... he had accrued a host of nicknames and epithets over his lifetime, but he doubted that would matter much to the motley bunch assembled here. A name of story and song was an empty thing to people like this, so far removed from his prior existence that they had never even heard of the nations and peoples who granted him those titles. It was a curiously refreshing feeling, to be a true unknown in every way.

"I am called Druss. I've some skill with this axe of mine."

Well, almost unknown. He gave Seija the slightest of nods, then turned as the Handler entered the chamber.

"Aye, if you have a task for us, spit it out. There's little point standing on ceremony."

edited 26th Apr '16 4:06:51 PM by Vox

Jotaro smirked, an aura seemed to fade into existence around him as he was about to answer Seija, thinking to himself that the chair she was holding up telepathically would make the perfect subject for his demonstration.

Alas, the Handler had arrived. Jotaro simmered down, and made himself comfortable once more.

"Guess I'll have to show you later, Seija. Jotaro Kujo, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."

His statement was sincere, but being delivered in the same, serious 'I probably hate you' tone didn't do Jotaro any favors.

He looked at the Handler, letting the rest answer that question regarding whether any of them were children. A few of them seemed to be teenagers, yes, but more than likely, they were wiser and more threatening than their appearances implied, seeing as they'd been picked for this team in the first place.

"I'm with them. I'm itching for a first job, ya see."

-The skeleton turns. His name in life would tell them nothing, better to use the one given to him by the Agency after his recruitment and first missions.-

I am the Shade. The sword is my art.

-With this, the Shade falls silent save for his ragged breathing, waiting for the invisible man to brief them.-

"Right to business then. Very well."

Behind him, the screen turned on, although nothing was yet visible on it. "For your first mission, we have a search and retrieval mission. First, a brief history of where you are about to go." On the screen behind him, an emblem appeared. "Within this world, two powerful organizations have been waging a shadow war for most of human history. One side calls themselves "Assassins". However, unlike other assassins you may know of, these assassins hold themselves to a moral code that forbids them from attacking innocents, and they do not take jobs for money. Rather, they fight to free the common people from "oppression", fight for "freedom", and so on."

The screen changed to another emblem "On the other side, you have the Templar Order. Their mission is to create a perfect "enlightened" utopia. However, they believe that humanity cannot be trusted to achieve this on their own, and so they seek to exert total control over the world to achieve this goal."

"This universe is defined by the conflict between these two organizations. It is very important that this conflict continues to its natural conclusion. However, today we received information that the tide may be shifted by an outside force. Through means we do not yet know, the Templars have somehow gotten their hands on an artifact that does not belong in their universe. If left unchecked, we believe this artifact could allow them the power to fully wipe out their rivals. This would be....problematic for the continued survival of this universe. Your mission will be simple. Retrieve this artifact and bring it back to us, so that we may figure out how it got there in the first place."

Roman gave an annoyed glance at Seija upon the horned girl calling him 'Mr Wick'.

"It's Torchwick. It's not that hard to remember. From one of the greatest criminals to this..."

As their invisible handler gave them their briefing, Roman's eyes narrowed, his expression souring. He spoke through clenched teeth, cigar still in his mouth.

"Just my luck... I have to help to help the people who act like Red. Moral code, pfft. And no profit either. These Templars don't sound like the type I'd like to help either though, so I guess these Assassins are the lesser of two evils."

He took his cigar out of his mouth, holding it loosely to the side as he spoke.

"So, Invisible Man, what's this artifact that we're talking about?"

Roman shrugged. So long as he helped, he'd get to carry on living. Besides, these Templars sounded much like authority, and shadow government or normal government, he'd enjoy putting a damper in their plans in any way. Like taking control of that Atlesian airship and destroying other ships in the fleet with it. Of course, that was shortly before his unceremonious death by Grimm.

Ah, good times. Here's to hoping we get to crack a few skulls of these Templars or at least have to destroy something of theirs. I doubt Invisible Man over here is going to let that happen though.

Assassins? A curious name for those who would battle against the darkness.

-As his gaze remains fixed upon the symbols, the Shade reflects upon the nature of endless wars. Through his service to Hyrule he bought peace for years at a time, but evil always returned sooner or later, subtly infecting the innocent and empowering the unworthy. As champion of the goddesses he had faced the twisted minions of darkness in open battle and triumphed, but through the Agency he discovered hidden wars, where the clash of naked swords only brought ruin, where bringing down a despot in single combat only plunged the realm into further chaos.-

What is known of their mettle? Will they defend their prize to the death, or will their courage fail them at the first blow?

"If you require a team of gifted individuals to steal a artifact, something that I can easily do myself, then this artifact must be of extreme power. How long have they had it, and what does it do?"
Corvo lifts his mask a bit to eat a grape, then he takes a sip of tea before putting it back down.