A Game of Truths

Moony’s entrance came coupled with the flash of his camera, like lightning from a storm cloud as it slowly drifted through the door of the church and floated patiently before the five senior members of OCMPA, feigning a bored and offended look on its non-existent face. (Or maybe just the lightning thing, the other parts are probably a stretch.)

It wasn’t as if Moony was actually offended by them having the meeting in a church—to the contrary, he really didn’t care. But he felt like he probably had to make a big fuss about it, for appearance’s sake, and so he tried to fit on as much contempt and offence on his face as possible. Admittedly, this ended up with him just looking somewhat like he was staring into the sun and squinting, but the thought’s what counts in these matters. And, despite himself, he was actually fairly excited, which made it difficult to try and act apathetic or cool in such matters—he truly did like what lay ahead of him, and had been up for a few hours the night before simply looking forward to what was happening the next day, and all future days for that matter. True, he’d been in training for a while, but that was different: it was practice. This was the real thing.

He focused his camera on the five greeters, and was about to take a series of photos of them, but stopped. He vaguely recalled people telling him all his life that he wasn’t supposed to take pictures of other people without their permission. While normally he ignored said people—for one thing, half the time he wasn’t entirely sure if his memories of other people were truly accurate—he realized that, in case they were right, taking continuous photos of a bunch of people about to show him the ropes in an organization like this was probably not a good idea. One of them would probably break his camera, claiming it to be in order to preserve the secrecy of the organization.

He didn’t want them to break his camera.

Reluctantly, and with a sick look on his face as he mentally prepared himself to perform a gruesome and almost sacrilegious action, he took the film out of his camera and, looking as if he might throw up, exposed the undeveloped film to the sunlight. He mourned the loss of the film like a father for his son, Achilles for Patroclus, Romeo for Juliet, only—in his mind, at least—it was far more tragic than any of those examples. But he knew that it was a necessary sacrifice; he knew that, in order to save either his camera or the organizations confidentiality, the film had to become the Judas goat for his own selfish actions.

He glanced up at them, with a look of both grief and hatred, guilt and sorrow, as he tried in vain to pay attention to what was being said.

((Ju toukou no jutsu!))

The Asian man blinked, trying to make sense of what was going on, as the two boys in the room spoke to him in English—or at least, what he assumed was English. It could have technically been German or Spanish or something, but English was far more likely—besides, he even recognized a few words.

“えと、某は英語を使用しない,”(Eto, Soregashi wa eigo o shiyou shinai) (Um, I don’t speak English) he said, before frowning, realizing that they probably didn’t speak Japanese either.

“No…English,” he said, and while he spoke with a fairly moderate accent he did actually pronounce the, “L,” correctly, despite the common stereotype. To reiterate, he repeated the word, “English,” as he gave them a thumbs down hand sign and shook his head. “Soregashi wa Nipponjin de gozaimasu. Nipponjin. Japanese,” he said as he pointed to himself.

The man was, not unjustly, fairly confused.

He pulled his phone out, and checked the text message he had received—the one that would tell him his identification, target, and…power? At first, he was positive that the power thing was some sort of joke, pun, mistranslation, misunderstanding, reference…but no, as he read what the message said, it clearly was some sort of power, like what one would expect from a shounen anime. He wondered, in a brief moment of insanity, just how he would activate this…power.

He didn’t delete the message, but locked his phone with a password based on a Japanese pun, given that anyone who was determined enough to break into his phone and translate the Japanese text therein would probably find some way of figuring out his card anyways.

That was another thing. How would he conceal his card?

He kneeled down, and slowly untied his shoe, which appeared to be a western dress shoe—something he’d reflect on later. Taking his foot out, he placed the card inside the shoe, before putting his foot back in.

He was acting a bit paranoid, true, but he felt justified in his actions. Mostly because paranoia would probably save his life, given the explosive device around someone's neck that'd blow their head clean off if they didn't find out his card and kill him.

He stood up, before turning his attention to the umbrella handle.

It…didn’t appear to be all that important for now, so he stashed it in his jacket. He’d worry about it’s significance later.

Having taken care of his phone, card, and trinket, he now pulled out the credit card from his back pocket, half expecting his name to be engraved on it. Instead of his name, or even his picture, it displayed a few serial numbers—nothing unusual for a credit card, aside from the blank spot where his name should’ve been.

He put it back in his pocket, thinking carefully.

Vladimir nodded, his expression fairly serious, although it was ambiguous as to how much of that was an act. "Interesting." His tone was equally ambiguous, although that could easily be the accent. "I assume you know that ve are not normally... vat you say, for hire?"

No Enlgish. Fuck.

What now? How the hell were they supposed to coordinate? With gestures? Goddamn.

Tuner wasn't sure how to answer. Alright, no English. Perhaps there was another language they could communicate with. Problem was, if he knew any other language, he couldn't remember it. He was comfortable enough using English- Tuner was pretty sure that English was his native tongue.

Wonderful.

In the meantime, Japanese Guy put his card inside his shoe. Good idea. Tuner mimicked him immediately. At least he seemed to know what he was doing, communications or not.

Not having any idea what to say to the guy, Tuner started pondering about his card's power instead, keeping a close eye on the girl as he did. She had yet to fully recover.

Arzt's nap is over in a few minutes. He rises from the bed and perkily stares at his three teammates in turn with jerks of his head. The collar is starring to bother him again, so he scratches vigorously, still watching everyone.

"Holy fuck. You people are boring."

Was referring to Redd regarding the teenager comment.

"I would think so..." muttered the elderly man. "I was merely entertaining the chance that you might be better informed as to what is happening..."

He stopped himself. Might as well try and get on this scientist's good side. "I believe I have been uncouth as to skip introductions. I am..." The word flashed in his mind again. He was sure it was wrong, but it felt proper and reasonable. "Tangeant. You are?"

"Call me Redd," he said, folding his arms. He glanced at both of them. They're both very old. This is going to be a bit rough. "I presumed that one of you knew more than I did, but apparently we're all on the same page."

Redd stood up from the bed and walked towards the window to take a closer look. He parted the curtains and let the sunlight leak into the room. The fabric felt thick. The revving of cars echoed from the distance. What place were they in? It looked European, but it wasn't familiar to him.

Redd turned his head from the window and looked at the other two people. "What do you guys want to do? Look for the others, or should we just sit around blabbering on about ourselves?" None of them had any personal memories, but hopefully they remembered some information.

edited 4th Sep '11 9:38:25 AM by chihuahua0

Huh, thought Alex, I guess I'm not the only one who's changed. We might still have more in common than I thought. He could hear Gear protesting that he was at least still human, but Alex was of the opinion that Gear was such a horrible excuse of a human being that little biological differences didn't really matter.

"Really," said Gear, overruling Alex's desire to simply gape at Cole in disbelief, "well, that sounds pretty dangerous." He smiled. "Looking forward to seeing that."

"West. Pleasure, Tangent." He held out his hand for a handshake.

It was a bizarre feeling to think that these once-meaningless words were now monikers.

As Tangeant shook West's hand, he realised he was sweating a little. He hadn't noticed just how hot is was. As Redd looked out the window, Tangeant stopped himself from grinding his teeth. He didn't know why but he felt nothing but distaste and contempt for the teen. "What do you see?" he asked, hoping that he might at least learn something here.

"Just a city," Redd said. "European-looking. Some sort of event is happening. From the sound of it, it's a race."

"At least none of us choose any cheesy names," Redd headed towards one of the chairs, "yet." He took a glance at the fourth person in the room, who was yet to pipe up. At least he wasn't a geezer. But since he was the youngest, he was going to have a hard time. Holding back his tongue would be a good idea.

edited 4th Sep '11 9:50:16 AM by chihuahua0

Cherry shuffled over to the window.

"Racing?...Where are we? I don't recognize it...Where am I from, anyway?"

Ring didn't say anything. She was watching, waiting. Jay turned from her. Bloody Mary was still whimpering. Admittedly, it was somewhat understandable. They were as newborns, thrust alone into the world, but they could speak, reason, and kill. And he doubted any of them were innocent. Those were the only differences.

Well, if Ring didn't want to talk, and Bloody Mary was too busy being useless, only Pen remained. Jay nodded at her. "You want to start?"

edited 4th Sep '11 9:57:45 AM by Chubert

I'm not going to mention getting the hell out of this programme yet, she thinks. It's nice if I can go up to the other teams and let them know we can unite against this bastardo instead of this sick thrill game. But the collar around my neck..

She walks over to the window to look outside - the sun rays do glower through the dust of this gloomy room. I have a hunch they have surveillance in each of our collars.. they can hear us, but can they see what we're doing? I'll have to check. But if we're allowed to cover our collars, I think I may have a chance. Just a tiny gap I must aim for.. shucks the lottery's more likely than this!

The others seem no less cautious or aware of what she's thinking.

I must tread softly.

"I can set things alight," Pencil says, looking at her hands.

edited 4th Sep '11 11:45:26 AM by QQQQQ

Bunny looked at Arzt in utter bewilderment. "How the hell can you be so calm? These things on our necks will explode! And look, girl. Before we resort to killing, we need to make sure there aren't other ways out of this."

"I don't know. I feel detached from it all." Arzt does his best to roll his neck around with the collar in the way, making popping noises. "I guess I didn't take care of my neck, eh?"

"Maybe I'm insane, since none of this seems to be affecting me. But since I am perfectly willing to accept my insanity— oh. Paradox! Fuck yeah. I mean hell no." He grins uncertainly at Bunny. "Who are you again?"

edited 4th Sep '11 10:13:38 AM by snowfoxofdeath

Leon, having calmed down a bit, walks towards a chair and sits down. "Halted? What do you mean?" Why do i get the feeling that i'll regret that question?

edited 4th Sep '11 10:43:14 AM by neobullseye

"I didn't bring you here to work for me. I brought you here to work with me. And as for what i mean by 'halted', maybe i should explain in more detail." John was slowly gaining a more serious posture, anger ebbing away.

"Events transpired about a year ago that left me the target of some of my colleagues. One in particular threatens to destroy this planet to take me down. At a time previous, i might have let him. But that is not the case anymore. Hiding will solve nothing, but fighting back will keep him from falling to impatience. Not everyone trusts me, however, and with good reason. Playing the hero isn't in the cards. So i won't. I'll do the exact opposite."

"Alright," Jay said. Turning to Bloody Mary, Jay paused. The announcer had said that the source of their powers was inside the cards. Presumably, the wielder of two or more cards would possess all of the cards' powers. And if Bloody Mary was too traumatized by the reality of their situation to fight...

The reasonable end of his moral expectations was to protect the innocent. Not respect them, or like them. And even then, feeling good about himself was a secondary objective. As long as he lived, he won, even if his entire team perished.

Considering the withdrawn, calculating air about Ring, Jay suspected that she had reached a similar conclusion. He said, "Cooperation improves our life expectancy. Mind sharing?"

"You must have plan already then, John?" said Samuel. "I don't know for sure what happened in D.C. but everyone worth knowing about is after you now. The world is on the look out and it seems those of us sitting at this table are the only ones who can help you survive this mess..."

Vladimir pursed his lips. "My my my." He said, sounding genuinely pleased, or potentially amused. "In addition to being talented summoner, you appear to be quite skilled in finding the trouble." He leaned back in the chair, putting his fingertips together in a gesture of contemplation. "I am... vat you say... all ears, Mr. John."

After nodding a little thanks to the guy who helped her stay on her feet, the girl briefly answered his question "Ah... no"

After this the girl reached for her back pocket (Jeans, she was wearing jeans she realized) and took out the provided cellphone. As it was expected, she did not recognize it but at one look she felt herself approving of it. Holding it a little awkwardly (what, with her still holding the hard, small thing in one of them) with both hands the girl started to look for the messages that the voice mentioned. With the light of the screen illuminating her face she reviewed what would come to be the most important three facts of her short life. Who she was, who was her and what she could do.

When she read about her power only a very slight sense of skepticism arose from her, one that was quite easily dismissed. After all it's quite hard to be a skeptic when you don't know anything.

Still... she wanted to see if she could really do what the message said. However, the other three men in the room were not doing anything like that so trying to use magic powers in their presence was a little too embarrassing.

The girl dug a little deeper into her cellphone, customized a couple of settings and finally looked up her cellphone number.

After that was done she put it away in her pocket only to see the other two men in the room stuffing their cards inside their shoes. Peer pressure acting up, she sat down on the floor and removed one of her sneakers (practical choice... and quite comfortable, she noted approvingly) and stuffed her pretty card inside as she informed them "I'm done checking the cellphone... My number is XX-XXXX-XXXXXXX. If you want to call me you should add it to your contacts..."

Leon blinks "Wait, someone threatened to destroy the entire planet just to get back at you? What kind of being is capable of that anyways?!" He sighs, mostly to calm himself down. "Sorry about shouting, but... If you call us for something that dangerous, i expect a reward of some sorts."

"Okay, right. Wait a minute..."

Tuner added her number at the contacts list -which was predictably, but still quite disappointingly otherwise empty- and read his own number out loud. Slowly, so that Japanese Guy could understand. At least, while the man couldn't speak English, it was clear that he understood it. Somewhat.

"Okay, now... while we waiting for Dean -and by the way, we should find you two something to call you-, we better get started. First of all, our powers. We should know exactly how each one works."

Considering what he had as a power, Tuner decided it was best to not go first.

"So, umm... Would someone demonstrate? To see if it's even working?"

edited 4th Sep '11 1:20:32 PM by Dealan

Dominik shrugge slightly, "I don't like the feeling of Shoes. " He said to the small child. Abruptly looking back down at his feet, coated in a light dirt from the ground, he needed a shower, he was sure they all probably did.