Inspecting the New Soldiers

[anderson]

"Being an abomination isn't something I can enjoy, Anderson. I don't have any other choice, though." Those were hard words to Phillippe. An abomination? That was a hard way to put it really. What Anderson modifies shouldn't be considered that, after all, Tristan is a work of art to Anderson.

"Send Hebe to pick me up. I'm sick of playing guessing games with my own body, and I understand you're the only one who really knows what's going on with me." Those words weren't rash as the other one. No. They were actually neutral in fact. At least he is getting professional.

"I am not sure about that, Tristan. Hebe might be a little busy, but feel free to take terminal 00 of any Britannian seaport to get here, of course, the location is prone to change, and you'll be entering an underwater vessel with no navigators of any kind in order to keep the confidentiality of this area. Although Leodegrance, do not consider yourself an abomination. You aren't as disfigured as one, neither are you suffering from a disability, you are the epitome of evolution! In fact, you should be grateful from this grand venture I've undertaken. Although we will talk about this later on, is there anymore queries you need answered? Since I will be explaining what new abilities you have gained." In contrast to Tristan's scorn, Anderson seemed sympathetic if not supportive. Although given Anderson's ulterior personality, this is all a part of his ploy to butter up the soldier and win his support. Perhaps to give way to more cooperation rather than simply antagonism towards one another. A strategic choice on it's own right.

[bradums]

Tristan wasn't sure what to make of Anderson's responses. He wanted to hate the doctor so much for kidnapping him and experimenting on him. The process had a near-impossible rate of success, yet Tristan had survived and the process took hold. Now, he was what most soldiers could only dream of being. His body's regenerative capability was far beyond the human standard. Though he hadn't exactly taken that experiment too far on his own, the blue-eyed Captain had gathered the courage to step up to stabbing himself in the leg. As he had seen from smaller wounds, the knife wound quickly closed and he could feel it returning to the state it was prior to the rather brash stab of a knife.

Other than that, his physical strength had grown considerably. While his body structure hadn't changed from what he could tell, he was far stronger - and faster - than he used to be...

...but no, he couldn't think of it like that. This wasn't some gift he was given, it was an experiment forced on him. He was kidnapped and experimented on under the knowledge that he was likely to die.

"We'll talk about that when I get there," the officer noted bluntly, "I'm leaving immediately, so expect me soon..."

With that, the blonde Britannian hung up and put his cellphone away. He was already out on the streets, avoiding any possible visitors that may have attempted to visit him at home. What would he tell Her Highness Sylvana? Or even Ayame? He couldn't face them until he had figured this all out for himself. For that, he needed Anderson.

With steady, determined steps, Tristan marched off toward the nearest bus line. His destination: the seaport that would take him to the doctor that held his fate in the palm of his hands.

[Not sure about the time on this, so if you guys want to RP a timeskip or if you'd rather continue one...feel free and let me know ]

[bradums]

[Timeskip!]

Tristan did as Anderson told him, and to his surprise, there were no unexpected traps waiting. He was brought to the location by an unmanned vessel and upon his arrival, he was led to the location where the Geass Directorate's new playthings were being inspected. To his displeasure, Tristan knew that he was one such plaything. As with his method of treating Anderson, he could only ignore it and stifle his unhappiness about the subject due to the necessity in going along with the doctor's plans for now.

"Anderson...I'm here. Let's discuss what exactly you've done to me and the extents of the effects it's had on my body," the blue-eyed Britannian demanded bluntly, disregarding anyone else around the doctor. He didn't even look to see who was accompanying Anderson, or at any of the soldiers lined up for inspection. He had a single purpose, and he wanted his questions answered.

[anderson]

The whole time, Anderson was eating beef jerky whilst awaiting for the blue eyed regenerator Captain Tristan. Awaiting him in the upper levels of this vibrant city all dedicated to studying Geass. News reaches fast to the Geass Directorate due to Anderson's connections to the military. One particular news that piqued Anderson's interests was the fact that a certain princess was kidnapped by a bunch of smelly Elevens. Oh well, perfect time to test out the Captain Leodegrance's capabilities as a supersoldier. Then here comes Tristan, speak of the devil.

"Anderson...I'm here. Let's discuss what exactly you've done to me and the extents of the effects it's had on my body." Way to kill the mood now. Tristan just was direct and firm as always. Oh well, the good doctor will have to enlighten him with his knowledge. After all, he DOES belong to him as his supersoldier.

"It's quite elementary, my dear Tristan. You have gained superhuman abilities. Namely strength, speed, stamina, durability and my personal favorite; a high regeneration that'll neglect your need to even need a medical kit. Let me demonstrate something for you." Pulling out of his pocket was a typical Britannian pistol with a laser sighting to help Anderson aim correctly. Pointing at his crown, the doctor pulls the trigger firmly. A simple recoil followed, ejection of the bullet out of the barrel and the exiting of the shell from the slider. The bullet speeding towards the blue-eyed Captain from point blank range. The .50 caliber bullet intending to penetrate into his crown and render him 'dead'.

[Hebe Ano Vasilikis]

Hebe rolled her eyes as her dear doctor shot the Paladin between the eyes and threw her lollipop wrapper at the back of his head. He'd dragged her along with him to the meeting site where the man had arranged to have his darling Homo Superior dropped off. The boat had been an hour late, and while Hebe usually had the patience of a saint, the doctor's uncharacteristic cheerfulness was pissing her off.

She huffed and rested her chin on the back of her chair, which she sat on backwards. "How quick you dive into your toils. The boy is five minutes off the boat. Give him ten before you air out his skull." She looked disinterestedly at the body.

And if you're going to shoot him, use a 12-gauge shotgun. Vaporization will really test regeneration.""

[bradums]

Tristan's eyes widened in shock. Was he really firing a bullet straight at his head?

The shock paralyzed him, but his instinct to dodge kicked in and his quick reflexes took hold. As you would logically expect, however, even he couldn't dodge a bullet from such close range after hesitating so long. His body fell backward with the force of the impact, falling slightly to the left as he was just starting to move that direction in his attempt to dodge the shot. Crashing down on his shoulder, the young Captain seemed dead at first...motionless.

After a moment, he slowly rose up from the ground. Though his face was emotionless, tears streamed unnoticed down the young man's face. His forehead showed a bullet being forced out of the wound it entered through, bringing a stream of crimson blood down Tristan's face as the bullet clinked on the ground below. Slowly, the Britannian pulled himself off the ground, though his eyes remained on the smashed bullet that was laying on the ground now.

"I...should be dead..." the young noble muttered, face still void of any sign of emotion.

[anderson]

"How quick you dive into your toils. The boy is five minutes off the boat. Give him ten before you air out his skull, and if you're going to shoot him, use a 12-gauge shotgun. Vaporization will really test regeneration." Scratching his chin, he took that suggestion into heart before giving the most cheerful of grins. His face so angelic and peaceful, but his heart as black as the depths of Hell.

"Capital idea, Hebe! but of course, given that his regeneration should be similar to an Immortal's regeneration..." Anderson paused, just so he'd let Hebe catch the drift, "...An Immortal will have to suffice."

Attention back to Tristan. At least when he shoots other immortals, they don't put up much drama as the Captain. Big deal, he just woke up from a head shot. He shouldn't be lamenting that he should be dead, rather, be grateful for living. If he wants to be dead that badly, the mad Doctor has half a mind to tell Hebe to fetch the 12 gauge shotgun she suggested earlier and blow his entire head out. Anderson actually thought the Captain had more stomach for this, why else did he choose him anyways?

"I...should be dead..." This was definitely a let down. He was going all depressed over just a simple shot to the head. Philip frowns over the statement, not because of the fact that he is doubting his regeneration, but because of him tearing. A cry baby for a soldier. Knowingly or not, Philip harbored some sort of contempt from an action as simple as this from Tristan Leodegrance, but then again, the contempt can be wiped out, it was quite amiable really.

"That can be arranged." Anderson muttered under his breathe, cackling lightly, his frown turning upside down to a questionable smile of sorts. He fondly remembers getting a telegram from the Central Intelligence Services of Britannia about reports of a missing Princess. "Catch your cool quickly, Captain, I have a test run for you, since you are my experiment, you should go on ahead and rescue a hostage from the Black Knights. Your other girlfriend, Ayame, remember her? I believe you have met her before, anyways, you'll be required to rescue her with only your fists as your only weapon. A gun-free mission, you have no say in this matter, you will undertake it, and simply remember to disguise yourself. A Britannian armour set will be most suitable for a disguise, wear it and pretend to be a normal soldier. You will not reveal your presence to everyone... just yet. That's all for now, and remember, if you see Zero, be sure to beat him to death and bring his corpse to me, after that, you will have time off, some R&R... but in this city... and overall... you will remain with me."

[Hebe Ano Vasilikis]

"Capital idea, Hebe! but of course, given that his regeneration should be similar to an Immortal's regeneration... an Immortal will have to suffice." Hebe cocked her head and smiled warmly, before spitting in his direction. "Try and shoot me and you shall find several extremities you value dearly to be missing."

She turned her attention back to the reanimating body of their dear, almost departed Paladin. He sat up, water trailing down his face as he stared at the fractured bullet. "I...should be dead..."

Hebe rolled her eyes and scoffed loudly. So much drama over a minuscule lump of metal? Pathetic. "From that little thing? Try being thrown into a pit of sharpened spikes, or quartered by beasts of horses, or having your limbs sliced off an inch at a time. Otherwise, save your anguish for creatures who care."

Anderson seemed to feel the same way. "Catch your cool quickly, Captain, I have a test run for you, since you are my experiment, you should go on ahead and rescue a hostage from the Black Knights. Your other girlfriend, Ayame, remember her? I believe you have met her before, anyways, you'll be required to rescue her with only your fists as your only weapon. A gun-free mission, you have no say in this matter, you will undertake it, and simply remember to disguise yourself. A Britannian armour set will be most suitable for a disguise, wear it and pretend to be a normal soldier. You will not reveal your presence to everyone... just yet. That's all for now, and remember, if you see Zero, be sure to beat him to death and bring his corpse to me, after that, you will have time off, some R&R... but in this city... and overall... you will remain with me."

She rolled her eyes again and chimed, "And bring me one of those uniforms. For the girls, mind. They're cute and I can't be bothered to go fetch one myself."

(InFo: Quartering is when a person has their arms and legs tied to four horses and they run in different directions and pull the limbs off)

[bradums]

Tristan had no say in the matter, as Anderson has said. He was long past any point of independence. Then again, that very realization was what brought him there - to the ghost city - in the first place. Anderson was the only person who had the knowledge to help him, no matter how unpleasant it was. So...he would succeed in this mission.

"Understood," the blue-eyed captain replied, his face tightening in a stern frown, "Send the mission location to my phone, if you have it. I'll take a set of infantry armor from the base and commence mission operations immediately."

Though he wouldn't mention it, this was something he had mixed feelings about. On one hand, he was doing Anderson's bidding. On the other, he wanted to get the princess away from the Black Knights. Her Highness the First Princess would probably endanger herself trying to find Ayame, so it was best for him to complete the task before she had a chance to.

[anderson]

The Britannian noble tapped the bottom lip twice as he thought about it, smirking as wickedly as ever he does. A true face shown in a rare moment. A facade of his true sniveling nature, being the rat he was. Not cowardly really, but simply despicable to be precise. He just knew how much control he had over Tristan Leodegrance, the young Captain whom he has to rely on Anderson. Perhaps over time when the Captain learns over everything of his newly found abilities, the Doctor's usefulness will run out, at that time, he planned to have the Captain lose his hate of him, and shift that hate to loyalty. A sound plan, but better done than said.

"Understood," the blue-eyed captain replied, his face tightening in a stern frown, "Send the mission location to my phone, if you have it. I'll take a set of infantry armor from the base and commence mission operations immediately."


The doctor nods at this statement, pulling out of his pocket a pack, a cigarette pack. Popping out of the pack was a mini cigar. Inserting the pack back into his white coat that he wore over his burgundy noble blouse. Pulling out a Zippo lighter out of his other pocket, popping it open and lighting it up, letting fire fuel the tobacco as Anderson flips the Zippo lighter shut, pocketing it also into his coat, albeit at a different pocket.

Taking a deep inhalation of the fume, he lets it ponder within his lungs for a while before puffing it out, pulling the mini cigar out, tapping it twice as he lets the ash hit the steel floor of the catwalk. Placing back the mini cigar where it belonged; his lips. "Very well Captain, the uniform should be provided by my associates in the military waiting outside of this underwater complex. You see, they'll simply meet you. It will be arranged momentarily." Pulling out of his coat the cigar pack once more, he offers it first to Hebe, then to Tristan. "Do have this, life is short, and the toils are long. At least for a mere mortal like me. The one untouched by death here doesn't need to worry about it of course, she is but an Immortal in the manifestation of a little girl. Albeit one that seems to speak similar to how a Malkavian would speak, wouldn't you agree? Either ways, you are free to walk out now to save your lovely Princess. The saviour fit to be the Princess's rescuer, although I am not sure where the Princess exactly is, the Shinjuku ghetto should be your first spot to look for the Black Knights, it long has been a spot where they hid, or so the locals would say."

[Hebe Ano Vasilikis]

Hebe grinned as the boy ignored her and stood, abandoning her chair to stand beside her Rook on the catwalk. She shifted her weight onto one leg and rested her arms on the security railing. Anderson pulled out a cigar and lit up, filling the Paladin in on his mission details. She inhaled and felt the thick smoke coat her lungs in a lovely South Britannian scent. Once upon a time, they had been sold to the rich under a different name, back before the war of Napoleon forced the royal family across the seas. But a smell was a smell and rotating labels didn't matter in the slightest.

Anderson offered his cigars around and Hebe smiled, delicately taking one. She stuck the sucking end in her mouth and held out her hand for the light. He held up the Zippo and she wrinkled her nose. "Do have this, life is short, and the toils are long. At least for a mere mortal like me. The one untouched by death here doesn't need to worry about it of course, she is but an Immortal in the manifestation of a little girl. Albeit one that seems to speak similar to how a Malkavian would speak, wouldn't you agree?"

Hebe removed the cigar from her mouth and gave him a dry look. "My sincerest thanks for sharing my life's story. But if you intend to keep up your polite charade, you would do well to offer wood matches with your death-sticks. That vile lighter, you might as well be smoking compost for all the flavor it preserves." She paused and pouted at him. "And I'm not a vampire. They find false association insulting."

She looked at the boy and raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you have some?" She grinned, showing her teeth. "I won't eat you if you don't." Maybe.

[bradums]

"I'm sorry, Hebe...I don't. I don't smoke," the young captain replied as he declined the cigar from Anderson. It was always a health issue. He knew of all the chemicals and poisons they contained, and he never felt inclined to give smoking a try. Though the health issue wasn't exactly pressing in his current - albeit permanent - state, he still wasn't interested. All that was on his mind now was getting this mission complete, for his sake and Ayame's.

Through it all, it began to make sense. Anderson had just verbally confirmed that Hebe was as strange as she seemed to be. She wasn't a mere girl, she was...immortal. Though that only gave rise to more questions. Why would an immortal help a Britannian doctor attempt to replicate her traits? And how did they meet in the first place? It was all too much to delve into in an already-turbulent moment.

"Shinjuku is my destination, then. I've personally seen Zero make his entrance there, so I believe I can find his subordinates at the very least and gain entrance to the base," Tristan noted, more like an android or emotionless recording than a man, "If I can survive a gunshot to the head, I don't foresee any trouble."

[anderson]

"My sincerest thanks for sharing my life's story. But if you intend to keep up your polite charade, you would do well to offer wood matches with your death-sticks. That vile lighter, you might as well be smoking compost for all the flavor it preserves." She paused and pouted at him. "And I'm not a vampire. They find false association insulting." Anderson nods at the statement, deciding ever to be so obnoxious as to discard the Zippo to the side of the catwalk where it would perhaps hit an unlucky soul, an advice taken should be an advice followed. "Noted, Miss Vasilikis, unfortunately I don't have a match." Anderson gave a moment of silence, before he does the unexpected, giving the most friendly of smiles as he mock pats Hebe on the head. "Of course you aren't a vampire, you aren't a bloodsucker, but you are something like a vixen or a Succubus, dear Hebe. You live off of one's carnal pleasure but really drain them of their vitality and leave them to tread the River Styx whence they run out of use." He says with a fake enthusiasm and a charming smile, having his fill of fun for a while before saucers snap at Tristan. Taking a few steps away from Hebe to fulfill his role on his briefing with Tristan finally.

"Shinjuku is my destination, then. I've personally seen Zero make his entrance there, so I believe I can find his subordinates at the very least and gain entrance to the base. If I can survive a gunshot to the head, I don't foresee any trouble."

"Interrogate them you mean? If so, then simply go now. The more time you stay here, the more time the Black Knights would have Princess Ayame in her captivity, perhaps the more time they'll also torture her, therefore make your way there and take the fastest vessel we have to reach mainland Area 11." The blue eyed doctor said with a smile. All of this was like a game for him, he wasn't even concerned for the Princess's health it seems, simply put, this was a chance for him to test out Tristan's capabilities as a supersoldier and see how well he fares this way. "Now go Captain, you have your Princess to save, make haste otherwise all efforts are for nought, remember, interrogate high ranking Black Knights, consult the wanted list to know of them... and remember, if there are any other units deployed in the area, be sure to avoid them, if they see you, beat them up, subdue them to be specific so to remain on the safe side on the event that they might follow you."

[Hebe Ano Vasilikis]

"I'm sorry, Hebe . . . I don't, I don't smoke." He sounded do awkward, the poor boy. It made Hebe want to cuddle close and slither inside his skin, right between his heart and his flesh.

Anderson nodded and dutifully flung the lighter over the side of the catwalk, where she heard it clang as it hit various metal bits. No squishy thunks; the local populace was unharmed. How droll.

"Noted, Miss Vasilikis, unfortunately I don't have a match." She pouted and slid the cigar into the front of her dress, hiding it for later in the natural pocket God gave women. Anderson paused before smiling gregariously, patting Hebe on the head. "Of course you aren't a vampire, you aren't a bloodsucker, but you are something like a vixen or a Succubus, dear Hebe. You live off of one's carnal pleasure but really drain them of their vitality and leave them to tread the River Styx whence they run out of use."

Hebe delicately removed his hand from her head, pressing it against the apex of her mouth and cheek. "How lovely you think of me so highly, heir doktor. I don't drink blood," she slid his hand to the front of her mouth and bared her teeth. "I merely eat the flesh." She bit down on the meat of his hand hard, hard enough to break the skin and first layer of weak muscle. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she smiled, before jerking her head to the side, ripping a good chunk of fleshy skin off. It would not cripple the man but it would be in his best interests to find a tourniquet. She spat the wad over the side of the catwalk and listened to the splat. "Although it does much for the flavor," she finished.

Hebe smiled amicably at the child. She was very much frightening in that moment, bloody in face and too wide smirk. Very rarely did her age show, but select fractions of time bared it wide, if only briefly. "You were saying?"

Taking a few steps away from Hebe to fulfill his role on his briefing with Tristan finally, Anderson continued. She hardly listened, the drivel since recited to her previously but she was quite curious as to the results of this little conversation.

[bradums]

"Understood," Tristan replied, giving the generic response a normal soldier would give. This was no longer a conversation, it was a briefing. His mind had sheltered itself from all the extraneous worries and conflict around the doctor, the immortal, and even the ghost city that surrounded them. To do so, he had reverted back to the mindset he had when he first started working with the Britannian military. Nobility aside, everyone had to follow orders at some point - Tristan included. With that experience imprinted in his memory, it served to resurface as it was needed.

Set on his course, and mindful of his task and the variables it entailed, Tristan turned to leave. As usual, he was blindfolded and restrained by men of the Directorate before being led to the ship that would guide him out. The uniform and equipment promised were put aboard, and he was free to ponder his mission as the vessel headed for the Britannian docks...

[Tristan, exeunt!]