Kaj comes off as a nice, socially acceptable fellow, slow to anger and quick to understand. He is rather emphatic, and makes friends easier than a fly finds food. The thing is, the man actually has a very scary ability to manipulate people like puddy. Like, seriously, this guy can convince anyone of anything, and can quickly change people's opinions on nearly anything. The man got this ability from a combination of birth and psychology. Besides this, the man is just your average neighbor; calm, friendly, and someone you always want to be around. Wait....
Appearance
Kaj definitely is not an attractive man. He stands at 6'0", and his scronny figure barely weights 130 pounds. Honestly, the man should work out. He has brown hair, more like a mop than really a clean, well tempered head. His eyes are blue-green, and always seem way too small underneath his dark brown glasses. His cheeks are the exact opposite of fat, and his nose is equally small. He has small lips, which are often cracked, and equally small ears. Despite this, the man doesn't normally appear suspicious to others.
Kaj prefers bright clothes such as white T-shirt and jeans or blue shirt with matching green shorts.
Bio
Kaj was born into a rather poor family. Both his parents were, frankly, rather stupid with there money and frequently made stupid mistakes that costs lots of money. Both of them barely had enough money for Kaj, and they nearly gave him up for adoption. Despite this, Kaj loved his parents and his environment. Everything always seemed normal to him, and he didn't notice just how poor his parents where. His teachers and friends were rather big friends of Kaj, and everyone seemed to easily build a relationship with the straight A student. Something was definitely different about the kid. But it wasn't until high school that he found out exactly what that was.
See, one of the many clubs of his high school was all about studying future careers. It was called "The Future You". Of course, there was the usual - doctors, writers, engineers, programmers, sports people....but one particular group interested Kaj.
The hypnotism division.
Now, many of the other people in the group struggled to get As, and many had a hard time making friends. Kaj was neither of those, and therefore was ahead of the rest of the group. He only had to watch the hypnotist hypnotize twice before he could do it. And he did it well. Maybe too well. In fact, the hypnotist himself told Kan that he should take a break from hypnotism after his junior year. The hypnotist thought that the man would be so good, he would be able to bend nearly anyone's will - and Kaj was already good at convincing others to get hypnotized.
See, hypnotism only works if the volunteer actually wants to be hypnotized, and if the hypnotist and the hypnoee have some sort of rapport. And Kaj was wonderful and convincing people, and building rapport. You could see how it could get out of hand.
Kaj didn't take a break his senior year. No, he wanted to test the limits of hypnotism. By now he had discovered of his parents' inability to responsibly spend money. It was rather easy for Kaj to fix that. Kaj discovered that a class was too hard for one of his classmates. Just a few tweeks, and the class was a touch easier. It seemed Kaj was only helping people. Of course, with power comes great responsibility, and his parents weren't the best at teaching responsibility. Thankfully, nothing major could be done with hypnotism - it took at least 30 minutes to put people under, let alone suggest people!
And then college came along.
Everything changed. Kaj had entered a psychology-based college, and had taken psychology as a major. Most of the basics he already knew, and the classes were easy. Of course, his dormmate was teaching him something new.
Street conversational hypnotism.
See, this hypnotism could not only hypnotize people EASILY, FASTLY, and WITHOUT CONCENT, but it could be used without any time to implant suggestions midconversation via psychological loopholes in people's brains. Obviously, things started building from there.
Kaj just finished college, and had just started to use hypnotism in an untrustworthy way when he got the message. Gulping, Kaj hoped he could save his life with a few of his tricks. Taking a few trinkets, he packed quickly before wandering to the destination, taking trains, subways, and planes around so that it wouldn't be obvious where he was going.
Skills
Hypnotism, covert hypnotism, and psychology are all in his repitoire. In other words, manipulation.
Inventory
A small knife, and clothes. Everything else can be done simply with mouth and hands.
Personality: Joey isn't very friendly, preferring to keep to himself most of the time. However this does not mean that he is shy or an introvert, he simply believes that having friends in his line of work would only end up with someone dead. While he may seem cold and heartless on the outside, on the inside he can't stand to see someone being hurt and if it won't jeopardize him or his mission he will try his best to help that person out. And while you may find it hard if you can break past his outer shell you'll see that deep down Joey is really just a nice guy who was dealt a bad hand when he was born. Oh and don't do anything to hurt a child while this guy is around because believe me, if you think death is the scariest thing that can happen to you then you are wrong, so very wrong.
Appearance: Joey comes in at an average of 5'9 with short brown hair. He has light blue eyes and a few scars on his face from when his parents would beat him. He keeps his face clean shaven mostly because the only beard he could grow would look better on a 9'th grader. He has a slim but athletic build perfect for crawling through vents and hiding behind walls. He usually wears a black t-shirt underneath a slate jacket that conceals his handgun. On his lower half he wears a pair of faded blue jeans and a pair of worn brown boots. His ballistic suit covers him from the neck down in a slimming black. All of his equipment is stored in the various pouches on his suit.
Bio: Joey was born in the slums of New York city to a two-bit street hustler who brought down his mom from a bright future as a pharmacist. In his early years Joey's family struggled with crippling debt, break-ins every week, and a corrupt police force. Things got worse when his mother had started to drink constantly. Usually Joey would hide in the closet and cry when she got bad enough, but sometimes she would find him and beat beat him senseless. His father was even worse, constantly berate him about what a waste he was and how their life would be better without him. Their abuse didn't end there, one time they came into his school just to take him out and beat him.
The abuse lessened when he turned 8 and his father decided that he'd have to earn his keep from now on by helping his dad hustle and scam. His father would distract the target and while they weren't looking Joey would sneak in and pickpocket them. He didn't know right from wrong and the few times his father would praise him would silence his conscience. This went on for a few more years until Joey turned 15 and his father had decided to pull off the quote "big one." This scam was supposed to set him and his family for life and get them out of the slums, or at least that was what was supposed to happen.
His father got word that a high end piece of equipment was going to be moving through the area. The equipment would be inside of a black van that would be moving in during the night. The plan was to use Joey to act as a distraction while has father and another guy took care of the guards and the driver and take off with whatever they were hauling. The first part of the plan worked perfectly, Joey "accidentally" fell in front of the van making it stop, but after that everything went crazy. As soon as his father went to grab whatever it was they were grabbing the cops showed up. They didn't even issue a warning they just got out of their cars and opened fire, killing his father and the other guy. Joey did the only thing he could have done and hid until they left.
When he got home in the morning his house had been broken into, everything of value was gone and in the middle of the house was his mothers lifeless corpse. Joey didn't know what to do so he did the only thing that he was taught to do. He took anything he could from the house and left, never looking back. He traveled a lot then, going from place to place and scamming who he could until the cops caught onto him. This all changed when he was finally caught in Pennsylvania after robbing a convenience store. He spent the next 2 years of his life in Juvenile hall until he was let out on parole. After that he swore to turn his life around and do good for a change.
So with a quick name change Joey went back to school under the name "Tyler Banks" and was employed by a private security firm when he was 23. He was trained in the use of multiple firearms, mostly handguns as anything larger would draw suspicion. He was also trained in hand to hand combat as well as blunt weapons like batons and tonfas. Joey enjoyed his new life but something still felt missing. It wasn't until he was 28 until he realized what he was missing. Sure he liked doing good but nothing could beat the way doing bad made him feel. He started off as being just a hired thug, but over time he realized that he was better off sticking to the shadows instead standing in plain sight. So Joey started offering his services as someone who could slip in, get what you want and get out before they even realize what happened.
Things were looking pretty sweet, he had just bought a new apartment in the nicer part of New York when he received a letter in his mail. Nothing out of the ordinary until he noticed that the name on the letter read "Joey Smith." This immediately caught his attention as all of the other mail was addressed to his new name. Joey read the letter and was surprised to see the name Solion come up in the message. The name had come up in a few data pulls that he had done but they never went into anything specific. Still though whoever this person was knew Joeys real name and even if this was some sort of prank maybe he'd find out who this person was and how he knew him. After getting everything in order Joey packed his gear, checked his guns and headed out to the coordinates he was given.
Skill: Joey is skilled in the art of infiltration and espionage. His past experience in security allowing him to recognize most security systems and their flaws. He can also recognize the movements of guards and using that information usually predict their intended path and how they'll react if they were to encounter an intruder. He has also broken into multiple heavily guarded facilities without being detected making him skilled in silent infiltration.
His training in security had not left him resulting in him being able to use most firearms smaller than an assault rifle with relative ease. His hand to hand combat skills are also nothing to scoff at, however if put against an opponent who had trained in primarily hand to hand combat Joey would easily be outclasses.
Inventory: Due to his line of work Joey has learned to pack light and pack smart for quick getaways, both in the field and in day to day life. His usual gear consists of a full ballistic suit layered with gore-tex that has multiple pouches. The suit can stop up to a 308. round without bodily harm. He also carries a pair of night vision goggles, a suppressed 1911 pistol with 2 additional magazines, a set of fiber wire, a 1 terabit portable flash drive and a PDA that he can use to access security cameras and other devices.
Whenever he isn't on the job he carries a black wallet, a small pocket knife, a smart phone, a pack of gum and a concealed Glock 19.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
1 Year ago the military was on the losing side of the war. All seemed bleak until one soldier brought a penguin in to training. They had trained that penguin in the use of explosives and sent him out into the field. They had thought that they had won but the agent went rouge. Now he only lives on as a legend, the legend of ShotgunPenguin.
Kaj comes off as a nice, socially acceptable fellow, slow to anger and quick to understand. He is rather emphatic, and makes friends easier than a fly finds food. The thing is, the man actually has a very scary ability to manipulate people like puddy. Like, seriously, this guy can convince anyone of anything, and can quickly change people's opinions on nearly anything. The man got this ability from a combination of birth and psychology. Besides this, the man is just your average neighbor; calm, friendly, and someone you always want to be around. Wait....
Appearance
Kaj definitely is not an attractive man. He stands at 6'0", and his scronny figure barely weights 130 pounds. Honestly, the man should work out. He has brown hair, more like a mop than really a clean, well tempered head. His eyes are blue-green, and always seem way too small underneath his dark brown glasses. His cheeks are the exact opposite of fat, and his nose is equally small. He has small lips, which are often cracked, and equally small ears. Despite this, the man doesn't normally appear suspicious to others.
Kaj prefers bright clothes such as white T-shirt and jeans or blue shirt with matching green shorts.
Bio
Kaj was born into a rather poor family. Both his parents were, frankly, rather stupid with there money and frequently made stupid mistakes that costs lots of money. Both of them barely had enough money for Kaj, and they nearly gave him up for adoption. Despite this, Kaj loved his parents and his environment. Everything always seemed normal to him, and he didn't notice just how poor his parents where. His teachers and friends were rather big friends of Kaj, and everyone seemed to easily build a relationship with the straight A student. Something was definitely different about the kid. But it wasn't until high school that he found out exactly what that was.
See, one of the many clubs of his high school was all about studying future careers. It was called "The Future You". Of course, there was theusual - doctors, writers, engineers, programmers, sports people....but one particular group interested Kaj.
The hypnotism division.
Now, many of the other people in the group struggled to get As, and many had a hard time making friends. Kaj was neither of those, and therefore was ahead of the rest of the group. He only had to watch the hypnotist hypnotize twice before he could do it. And he did it well. Maybe too well. In fact, the hypnotist himself told Kan that he should take a break from hypnotism after his junior year. The hypnotist thought that the man would be so good, he would be able to bend nearly anyone's will - and Kaj was already good at convincing others to get hypnotized.
See, hypnotism only works if the volunteer actually wants to be hypnotized, and if the hypnotist and the hypnoee have some sort of rapport. And Kaj was wonderful and convincing people, and building rapport. You could see how it could get out of hand.
Kaj didn't take a break his senior year. No, he wanted to test the limits of hypnotism. By now he had discovered of his parents' inability to responsibly spend money. It was rather easy for Kaj to fix that. Kaj discovered that a class was too hard for one of his classmates. Just a few tweeks, and the class was a touch easier. It seemed Kaj was only helping people. Of course, with power comes great responsibility, and his parents weren't the best at teaching responsibility. Thankfully, nothing major could be done with hypnotism - it took at least 30 minutes to put people under, let alone suggest people!
And then college came along.
Everything changed. Kaj had entered a psychology-based college, and had taken psychology as a major. Most of the basics he already knew, and the classes were easy. Of course, his dormmate was teaching him something new.
Street conversational hypnotism.
See, this hypnotism could not only hypnotize people EASILY, FASTLY, and WITHOUT CONCENT, but it could be used without any time to implant suggestions midconversation via psychological loopholes in people's brains. Obviously, things started building from there.
Kaj just finished college, and had just started to use hypnotism in an untrustworthy way when he got the message. Gulping, Kaj hoped he could save his life with a few of his tricks. Taking a few trinkets, he packed quickly before wandering to the destination, taking trains, subways, and planes around so that it wouldn't be obvious where he was going.
Skills
Hypnotism, covert hypnotism, and psychology are all in his repitoire. In other words, manipulation.
Inventory
A small knife, and clothes. Everything else can be done simply with mouth and hands.
((Accepted Erip, it'd be great if you could explain to me the extent to how your character uses his hypnotism. I might be just slightly worried about his ability to instantly manipulate people(or just have misconceptions). I've very rarely heard of hypnotism without consent, and I have no idea whether or not it's even possible.))
Personality: Joey isn't very friendly, preferring to keep to himself most of the time. However this does not mean that he is shy or an introvert, he simply believes that having friends in his line of work would only end up with someone dead. While he may seem cold and heartless on the outside, on the inside he can't stand to see someone being hurt and if it won't jeopardize him or his mission he will try his best to help that person
out. And while you may find it hard if you can break past his outer shell you'll see that deep down Joey is really just a nice guy who was dealt a bad hand when he was born. Oh and don't do anything to hurt a child while this guy is around because believe me, if you think death is the scariest thing that can happen to you then you are wrong, so very wrong.
Appearance: Joey comes in at an average of 5'9 with short brown hair. He has light blue eyes and a few scars on his face from when his parents would beat him. He keeps his face clean shaven mostly because the only beard he could grow would look better on a 9'th grader. He has a slim but athletic build perfect for crawling through vents and hiding behind walls. He usually wears a black t-shirt underneath a slate jacket that conceals his handgun. On his lower half he wears a pair of faded blue jeans and a pair of worn brown boots. His ballistic suit covers him from the neck down in a slimming black. All of his equipment is stored in the various pouches on his suit.
Bio: Joey was born in the slums of New York city to a two-bit street hustler who brought down his mom from a bright future as a pharmacist. In his early years Joey's family struggled with crippling debt, break-ins every week, and a corrupt police force. Things got worse when his mother had started to drink constantly. Usually Joey would hide in the closet and cry when she got bad enough, but sometimes she would find him and beat beat him senseless. His father was even worse, constantly berate him about what a waste he was and how their life would be better without him. Their abuse didn't end there, one time they came into his school just to take him out and beat him.
The abuse lessened when he turned 8 and his father decided that he'd have to earn his keep from now on by helping his dad hustle and scam. His father would distract the target and while they weren't looking Joey would sneak in and pickpocket them. He didn't know right from wrong and the few times his father would praise him would silence his conscience. This went on for a few more years until Joey turned 15 and his father had decided to pull off the quote "big one." This scam was supposed to set him and his family for life and get them out of the slums, or at least that was what was supposed to happen.
His father got word that a high end piece of equipment was going to be moving through the area. The equipment would be inside of a black van that would be moving in during the night. The plan was to use Joey to act as a distraction while has father and another guy took care of the guards and the driver and take off with whatever they were hauling. The first part of the plan worked perfectly, Joey "accidentally" fell in front of the van making it stop, but after that everything went crazy. As soon as his father went to grab whatever it was they were grabbing the cops showed up. They didn't even issue a warning they just got out of their cars and opened fire, killing his father and the other guy. Joey did the only thing he could have done and hid until they left.
When he got home in the morning his house had been broken into, everything of value was gone and in the middle of the house was his mothers lifeless corpse. Joey didn't know what to do so he did the only thing that he was taught to do. He took anything he could from the house and left, never looking back. He traveled a lot then, going from place to place and scamming who he could until the cops caught onto him. This all changed when he was finally caught in Pennsylvania after robbing a convenience store. He spent the next 2 years of his life in Juvenile hall until he was let out on parole. After that he swore to turn his life around and do good for a change.
So with a quick name change Joey went back to school under the name "Tyler Banks" and was employed by a private security firm when he was 23. He was trained in the use of multiple firearms, mostly handguns as anything larger would draw suspicion. He was also trained in hand to hand combat as well as blunt weapons like batons and tonfas. Joey enjoyed his new life but something still felt missing. It wasn't until he was 28 until he realized what he was missing. Sure he liked doing good but nothing could beat the way doing bad made him feel. He started off as being just a hired thug, but over time he realized that he was better off sticking to the shadows instead standing in plain sight. So Joey started offering his services as someone who could slip in, get what you want and get out before they even realize what happened.
Things were looking pretty sweet, he had just bought a new apartment in the nicer part of New York when he received a letter in his mail. Nothing out of the ordinary until he noticed that the name on the letter read "Joey Smith." This immediately caught his attention as all of the other mail was addressed to his new name. Joey read the letter and was surprised to see the name Solion come up in the message. The name had come up in a few data pulls that he had done but they never went into anything specific. Still though whoever this person was knew Joeys real name and even if this was some sort of prank maybe he'd find out who this person was and how he knew him. After getting everything in order Joey packed his gear, checked his guns and headed out to the coordinates he was given.
Skill: Joey is skilled in the art of infiltration and espionage. His past experience in security allowing him to recognize most security systems and their flaws. He can also recognize the movements of guards and using that information usually predict their intended path and how they'll react if they were to encounter an intruder. He has also broken into multiple heavily guarded facilities without being detected making him skilled in silent infiltration.
His training in security had not left him resulting in him being able to use most firearms smaller than an assault rifle with relative ease. His hand to hand combat skills are also nothing to scoff at, however if put against an opponent who had trained in primarily hand to hand combat Joey would easily be outclasses.
Inventory: Due to his line of work Joey has learned to pack light and pack smart for quick getaways, both in the field and in day to day life. His usual gear consists of a full ballistic suit layered with gore-tex that has multiple pouches. The suit can stop up to a 308. round without bodily harm. He also carries a pair of night vision goggles, a suppressed 1911 pistol with 2 additional magazines, a set of fiber wire, a 1 terabit portable flash drive and a PDA that he can use to access security cameras and other devices.
Whenever he isn't on the job he carries a black wallet, a small pocket knife, a smart phone, a pack of gum and a concealed Glock 19.
((Great app Shotgun, accepted.))
((Alright, I'll be dropping the IC post very soon.))
((Well, it works to the extent of normal hypnotism - which street hypnotism, or covert hypnotism, or whatever you want to call it, is an actual method of hypnotism. I would link, but most of it is NSFW. Most of it works because of psychological loopholes and confusion - when you utterly confuse someone or something, they immediatly search for a way out, or for something orderly to do, hence the 'sleep' command to start a trance. Besides this, it only works by ignoring the consicious mind, so only moral buried deep in the subconscious can be prevented, such as preventing self harm. In fact, there is whole videos of people being hypnotized to shoot people - not that they knew it was a fake gun.
i'm kinda a hypnotisis nerd, sorry. One of my many hobbies, although I can confirm it works rather well.))
((Well, it works to the extent of normal hypnotism - which street hypnotism, or covert hypnotism, or whatever you want to call it, is an actual method of hypnotism. I would link, but most of it is NSFW. Most of it works because of psychological loopholes and confusion - when you utterly confuse someone or something, they immediatly search for a way out, or for something orderly to do, hence the 'sleep' command to start a trance. Besides this, it only works by ignoring the consicious mind, so only moral buried deep in the subconscious can be prevented, such as preventing self harm. In fact, there is whole videos of people being hypnotized to shoot people - not that they knew it was a fake gun.
i'm kinda a hypnotisis nerd, sorry. One of my many hobbies, although I can confirm it works rather well.))
((Ah, I see. Just a few more questions though. How powerful can street/covert hypnotism be without consent and is it as effective on people who don't believe in hypnotism or are perhaps skilled in human behaviour, psychology or even hypnosis?))
A three storey building, recently painted in a new coat of white paint, stood quietly in a row of other much taller buildings. It was in front of what could be said to be a park, with a few adults sitting on benches, watching their children play around with each other as they discussed about current events with one another. It was currently a Friday in August, with the Sun still visible and only partially blocked by a few clouds. There seemed to be relatively few people walking on the granite pathways that were placed beside the buildings, and the Crowford Bank itself received very little visitors at this time.
A brunette, dressed in a black jacket which covered a dark grey shirt, stood alone in a dark alleyway further away. Leaning on the dark brick wall, she examined the building silently from a distance. Both of her hands were placed in her jacket's pockets, the right hand currently gliding a finger on a slim black pistol, and the other holding a silencer, ready to bring it out at anytime and attach it to the firearm. However, if anyone spotted her, she appeared as calm as ever. In fact, she was almost simply smirking to herself.
Sam looked around with quick glances. No one appeared to be waiting or watching her. However, she knew better. She looked slightly up to notice a few surveillance cameras placed around the areas, some of them simply mounted on walls of buildings, but most of them facing the bank. 'Is this a trap fabricated by Solion itself?', she pondered to herself for a while before pushing the thought away, comforting herself with the fact that she would most likely be able to escape. 'Hmm... the coast looks clear anyways...', Sam thought to herself before looking down at her phone. It looked like nothing available on the market, nor did it appear to have the same interface as any of the main brands on sale these days. Upon turning it on, it simply displayed 6 numbers in a blackish background.
'14:59:42. It's time.', she appeared to have a very apathetic face at this point, simply looking to her sides continuously to see if anyone was currently watching her. As Sam walked out of the shadows and into her bright sunlight, no one seemed to notice her. She didn't even flinch once once reaching the walkway beside the buildings. The bank was in sight. Her right hand gripped upon the pistol, prepared to bring it out anytime to fire at an assailant. No one seemed to stand out. Looking through the glass doors of the bank, she noticed that very few people were inside. Just security, staff, and maybe two people looking around the area. Not stopping once, she fearlessly walked in, passing through a few security cameras as she did so. One even seemed to turn towards her direction and followed her.
The air conditioned room looked particularly clean, with a clean decor and most furniture appearing very modern. Sam cautiously walked forwards to the counter. Strangely enough, it appeared as if the assistant there was already waiting for some arrivals as he was staring out of the doorways and windows before she caught his attention. 'Looks like we're waiting for more visitors.', she noted upon finally reaching the front desk.
"What are the coordinates?", the man wearing glasses leaned forward and whispered, almost as if avoiding attention. Not even turning her head to the cameras to notice what was going on, she simply remembered the memorised number given to her through the anonymous encrypted letter on the internet and discreetly told it to him. The man simply turned around slightly to see another employee who was already looking at him, almost as if waiting for a signal. They both nodded to each other, before he told the woman to sit on the white leather sofa placed beside the wall for a while as the other staff member went off into a locked room to find what she assumed would be a package of sorts.
Sam simply did so, sitting on the right side of the furniture with her arm placed on the arm rest. She kept her attention to the desk and the glass entrance which gave her a view of the outside. For some reason, her instinct was bugging her that this was about to go really badly...
A bright white digital interface, cluttered with views from surveillance feeds everywhere in New York, suddenly paid attention to a certain area of New York. Storm had recently noticed that a planned victim for assassination today had suddenly done something unpredicted: entering the Crowford Bank despite having no connections to it whatsoever, not to mention the counter assistant she didn't know suddenly had a short hushed conversation with her.
The top left of the screen simply read 'Scanning anomaly in Crowford Bank district...', before it brought up large amounts of boxes, each giving a different view of the place. A white square had been placed on each person's face it saw, most likely to tell apart the number of people. Another line below the sentence read 'Hacking process into Crowford Bank databases complete.' With that, it gained access to the bank's feeds. More squares were added to the newly identified staff and customers. One in particular, a woman sitting on the sofa, had been given a red square. All of the feeds which had the women in it were then bordered red, before it began looking through the other feeds it could find around the surrounding area, noticing that there were other planned victims arriving in the district.
It quickly put together, that these people were all correlated to each other because they were all planned for assassinations... and that they were all listed in a thumb drive Primary Threat Blake had failed in stealing three days ago. Storm concluded that Nerve must've assembled them here. With that in mind, all the other arriving Primary Threats had been given a red square on their faces as well, along with feeds displaying them now having a red border.
Crowford Bank District - Primary Threats
Brett Risever
Joey Smith
Kaj Adlev
Sam Shannon
Quinn Helgen
It listed these names out, before a sentence appeared next to the list of names, which simply read: 'Dispatching Team V08 To Location...' After a few seconds, a countdown began replaced that sentence, which showed: 'Estimated Time Until Arrival: 00:04:32.'
((Well, actually, those are all of the questions that the psychologists are trying to answer right now. But to my experience -
1. Concent very, very rarely matters for covert hypnotism. As long as the person doesn't realize they are being hypnotized until they are already under, they won't put up any barriers.
2. It is actually rather funny to hypnotize someone WHILE they say they can't be hypnotized. Kind of goes with 1 - if they know how hypnosis works, they will know what to ignore. Of course, the type of hypnosis my character recently learned, street hypnosis, is all about surprise and catching your client unexpected. It's the kind of hypnotism that not most psychologists, or frankly, people, believe until they see it. And again, once they are under, only morals they would never dare to break can be avoided. Consider this though - friends and memories can reside in conscious or subconscious, depending in how close the memory or friend. What's weird is with hypnosis, you can get any person to remember ANY event in their life - even ones their conscious mind doesn't recognize. So the limits all just depend - their are some people who just won't get hypnotized because they have more confidence then the hypnotist. Not that it is a mental challenge, but they put up such a mental blockade that any obvious signs immediately alert their mind. Although, you have to be careful with this - if you put up too much of a mental barrier, then if you do go under, you'll go under hard.
I don't know if I made this obvious yet, but I couldn't shake someone's hand, immediately put them under, and then convince them to shoot their friend. Covert hypnotism is just another way to get them under - once they are under, however, you have to get them deeper and deeper into trance until whichever command you are suggesting can be properly, well, done. If you want your subject to give up smoking, something they likely want to do, it may take second of being in trance. But for things like convince them to be violent, lustful, or animalistic, things against their conscious, they have to be deep in trance.))
((Well, actually, those are all of the questions that the psychologists are trying to answer right now. But to my experience -
1. Concent very, very rarely matters for covert hypnotism. As long as the person doesn't realize they are being hypnotized until they are already under, they won't put up any barriers.
2. It is actually rather funny to hypnotize someone WHILE they say they can't be hypnotized. Kind of goes with 1 - if they know how hypnosis works, they will know what to ignore. Of course, the type of hypnosis my character recently learned, street hypnosis, is all about surprise and catching your client unexpected. It's the kind of hypnotism that not most psychologists, or frankly, people, believe until they see it. And again, once they are under, only morals they would never dare to break can be avoided. Consider this though - friends and memories can reside in conscious or subconscious, depending in how close the memory or friend. What's weird is with hypnosis, you can get any person to remember ANY event in their life - even ones their conscious mind doesn't recognize. So the limits all just depend - their are some people who just won't get hypnotized because they have more confidence then the hypnotist. Not that it is a mental challenge, but they put up such a mental blockade that any obvious signs immediately alert their mind. Although, you have to be careful with this - if you put up too much of a mental barrier, then if you do go under, you'll go under hard.
I don't know if I made this obvious yet, but I couldn't shake someone's hand, immediately put them under, and then convince them to shoot their friend. Covert hypnotism is just another way to get them under - once they are under, however, you have to get them deeper and deeper into trance until whichever command you are suggesting can be properly, well, done. If you want your subject to give up smoking, something they likely want to do, it may take second of being in trance. But for things like convince them to be violent, lustful, or animalistic, things against their conscious, they have to be deep in trance.))
((Sorry about that, it's just that I'm not too familiar about this type of science. Hypnotism is a concept that many people have been fascinated by for almost centuries, even until today. As most people might say, it's just a small part of a puzzle that is the human brain. And as of right now, we aren't even close to figuring out how the brain works. It'd be like having a character which has over ten years completed Project MKUltra after picking up where the CIA left off and placing him in the roleplay. It sure is not impossible, and there are documents recorded which say it's most definitely possible(which are also scientific), but I'm not particularly sure about it.
And honestly, I myself haven't actually seen hypnosis work in the flesh or even without consent(and all sources I've been reading on do actually note that hypnosis will not work if you don't want to be hypnotised). Other than stage hypnosis videos(which do have people giving consent) that is. Besides that, my reasoning to myself was that if hypnotism really worked as easily as described, anyone could be a hypnotist and just hypnotise everyone in their way to get rich quick(by subconsciously suggesting to a recent acquaintance to hand over all his money for example). But clearly, if that were the case, the whole world would just be filled with hypnotist criminals, which I don't think is the case. So do forgive me if I was skeptical about it.))
((In terms of how everyone should be writing the opener, just write that your character arrived at the bank. Once that's done(and maybe some interaction if you'd like), I'll move the story on.))
When I woke up this morning I was a bit on edge and uncertain. Should I go to the coordinates and possibly have something happen, or should i stay in the comfort of my nice warm house. I had to go to the supermarket anyway so I decided maybe I would take a quick detour. I borrowed my mothers car, just like I normally do to get to the supermarket, and I took the fastest route I could to the coordinates. I was surprised to see that it wasn't some old abandon warehouse or some creepy old alley. This was my last chance, turn back or go in. I went with my gut and went in, carrying nothing but my laptop, keys and knife.
"This is Dan Domingo bringing you all of the hits from the past. Coming up now is my man Bon Jovi with " Wanted Dead or Alive"" The song had just begun when Joey turned off the radio. He was nearing the area where he was instructed to wait, but before that he wanted to get a view of the general area. If things went south he wanted to be able to know what his options would be regarding his exit strategy. Parking his car a block away from a sparsely occupied park Joey turned off the car and opened the door. Getting out of his car Joey closes the door and walks around to the trunk of the car. He unlocked the trunk before opening it and grabbing a large black suitcase out of the trunk. Inside of this suitcase was all of his usual gear for a job, along with a few extra magazines for his glock.
Closing the trunk door Joey took a minute to observe his surroundings. The nearby park had only a few people in it, mostly parents with their children. It was mainly wide open with a few trees dotting the area. The trees wouldn't provide much cover in a firefight but they might be useful to hide himself if he could scale it in enough time. Not noting anything else that could be useful in the area Joey began to walk towards where he was supposed to wait, the Crowford Bank. As he was walking Joey took a brief second to adjust his holster so that it wouldn't be visible if someone glanced at him.
After adjusting his holster Joey continued to walk towards the bank. As he got closer to the bank he began to notice the cameras that kept a watchful eye on the area. Most of them seemed to focus on the bank itself and the area around the bank. No doubt an effort to get the most information possible in the event of a robbery, but the problem with that is that cameras could only cover so much. Joey continued to observe his surroundings before he arrived at the steps of the bank. "Well looks like it's time to find out who this guy is" He thought as he entered the bank.
Joey was surprised at the small amount of security inside of the bank. There were only a few visible guards, each of them armed with handguns. Upon further inspection Joey recognized the handguns as a Sig Saucer P220R compact, a nice concealable gun that offered decent stopping power. He would have to look out for that in case things got heated. Joey was confident in his abilities in a gunfight, however in an area with little cover against multiple targets he would have a greater risk of getting hit. "Whatever, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it" He thought before walking up to the front counter where the assistant stood.
When Joey stopped in front of the counter the assistant took one look at him before leaning in and whispering "What are the coordinates?" The mans glasses stared at Joey as he recited the coordinates that he had been given in the letter, whispering it loud enough for the assistant to hear. The assistant straightened himself before turning to face another assistant, both of them nodding before the first assistant told Joey to have a seat on the sofa by the wall. As the other assistant went into a locked room Joey decided to sit on the left side of the sofa, opposite to the woman that was already sitting there. He decided to keep his suitcase on the ground next to his legs as he placed his left arm onto the armrest. As he sat there waiting for the assistant to come back Joey couldn't shake a feeling that he'd gotten. It felt like something was off but for the moment he decided to ignore it. Besides it was nothing more than a feeling, right?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
1 Year ago the military was on the losing side of the war. All seemed bleak until one soldier brought a penguin in to training. They had trained that penguin in the use of explosives and sent him out into the field. They had thought that they had won but the agent went rouge. Now he only lives on as a legend, the legend of ShotgunPenguin.
((Just a quick note, only once everyone has arrived at the bank will the action begin.))
Sam had kept to herself, noticing once again that the bank was relatively quite empty, with only her, the staff, and one or two customers being present in the building. The fingers on her right hand seemed to slightly tap the arm rest in a bit of a pattern, possibly signifying boredom, although her face still gave off the appearance of a particularly calm person. Although, something was slightly irking her, something she couldn't put her finger on. She'd call it her gut feeling, but she didn't really believe in things like that.
She looked back down at her phone to quickly check the time, before scanning the environment outside the bank through the glass doors once again. It was done as slowly as possible, but if one actually knew the current situation, you might've described her as slightly nervous. But once again, Sam attempted to push the thought away, before concentrating on other things, seeing that two men had arrived into the bank. They didn't look to be working together, so she wasn't exactly put on alert. Glancing slightly at one of the men, she noticed that he went straight to the counter, only to seemingly do the same thing she had just did a while back.
The briefcase he was carrying wouldn't exactly catch a normal's person's attention, but she wasn't normal. The staff member went back into the locked room, to most likely find something that the anonymous sender must've prepared for them. She then saw the man sit down on the left side of the sofa, quietly pondering to herself as she cautiously scanned the cameras that were watching them inside the room. '4. 4 eyes watching us.' She concluded to herself that this brown haired man must certainly be related to the strange message she got. However, as she had noted with the cameras, Sam simply tried to start a casual conversation, not wanting to attract too much unwanted attention.
"Hello, I guess you're here to pick something up from the bank huh? It's the same with me, an acquaintance sent me here, just to collect something.", the word acquaintance had been said in a bit of a normal way, however, someone who was in the same situation as her would've picked it up as off. The conversation however, was started in a bit of a jovial and friendly tone, which she would keep with herself as she went on. She then raised her gloved hand for a handshake, before continuing.
((I definitely understand the sceptism. I've had many a person doubt that hypnotist works, until 5 minutes from then they're in their dream world, eating with percy jackson, shooting lightining out of their fingers, and flying. Lol.
And while I didn't believe covert hypnotism either, I'm going to tell you the honest truth - the reason hypnotists and such say it can't be done without concent is because imagine what would happen if everyone knew covert hypnosis, how it worked, and its 'limitations'.
Lastly, I have to stress that hypnosis does have limits. Every suggestion has to be phrased as to not cause alarm in the subject's mind. If I said "now give me all your money", they would immediately return to normal and probably slap you. You would have to go more to the lines of "now empty your pockets and such onto the table, and forget you ever had anything in your pockets." See the difference? Even in hypnotism without concent, this rule has to be followed.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Location:
Canada, Eh
Join Date:
11/9/2011
Posts:
121
Location:
With The Aliens
Minecraft:
owleyes3159
Member Details
Dodge right. Hard punch to the stomach. Jump left. Block right. Dodge left. Right uppercut. Dodge left. Roundhouse kick to left temple. The thud of a body hitting the cement ground. Broken and rough cheering. Bets passed around. Money exchanged. Another fight done.
Always the same routine. Always the same outcome.
Quinn Helgen is not a particularly prideful person, but when she first saw her most recent opponent, her attitude greatly changed. The guy didn't stand a chance. He was tall, his form much too lanky, with a wisp of straw hair and beady little eyes. The kind of guy who was still living in his mother's basement. He was counting on his lanky speed to win against a hopefully newbie fighter. Unfortunately for Mr. Spaghetti Arms, Quinn wasn't new to the organization. Even the crowd had scoffed when he entered the room, bets were all placed in Quinn's favour. She almost felt bad for the guy. This feeling quickly disappeared when he placed a well timed punch to her jaw. Needless to say, he didn't last long.
Her jaw was throbbing now, Quinn held ice to it as she sat in what was informally known as the locker room. Dubbed for the wall of lockers on one side and a few showers stalls against the far wall, although no one ever used either of them. No one was stupid enough to leave their items unattended, especially in this environment. Quinn was sitting on one of the chipped benches that sat across from the lockers. The brick wall was cool against the back of her head as she leaned against it. She could hear the roars of excitement from outside the door as another fight began to take place. Quinn dully remembered Little John prepping when she had grabbed the ice that was now currently being held to her jaw.
She always thought that Little John was a strange name. His real name was John Tabern, a man with an impressive criminal record who was know to hulk over his opponents. The guy was huge, covered in tattoos and extremely tall, with fists the size of Quinn's head. She supposed that this is why he chose the name, the irony was obvious. Quinn had yet to fight John, but she pitied the poor soul who was on the other end of his fist today.
Finding herself surprisingly tired, Quinn got up from her position on the bench and left the locker room. She walked through the main fighting room, loud cheers and taunts echoing off the walls, the floor a combination of cement and old training mats. Quinn didn't bother stopping to watch the current fight, she didn't need to see Little John pound yet another kid into the ground.
Late morning light assaulted Quinn's eyes as she stepped out of the inconspicuous looking building. It was disguised as an old storage building, flat roofed and windowless. Quinn nodded to one of the men posted outside, squinting in the new light. She snuck out of the small district and onto one of the main streets, taking the quickest route back to her little apartment.
As she waited for a streetlight to turn red, Quinn's thoughts were pulled toward an incident from three days prior. Well, it wasn't really an incident, but it was strange to say the least. Someone had contacted her anonymously, bearing a warning of her impending death. Quinn had been wary of the message, but something about it had been nagging at her. She was suddenly dragged out of her reverie by the sound of cars honking and she hurried across the street.
Quinn's apartment was a modest one, despite being lived in for her entire childhood. It was all she needed though, a small living room and connected kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Her neighbors were quite too, a fact that Quinn was extremely grateful for. She often came home at strange hours, desperate for peace and quiet.
Quinn dug her apartment key our of her bag and forcefully stuck it in the familiar door. It opened with a click and she stepped inside, locking the door behind her. Quinn sighed and threw her bag down in a chair in the living room, her keys following soon after. The sitting room's walls were painted a soft brown color, a dark brown sofa was pushed in one corner and several armchairs were also placed in the room. A small television and radio sat in the room, barely used. A bookcase was also in the small room, many worn titles sat on the shelves. There were also some pictures on the wall, family pictures, school portraits, that sort of thing. Everything was tidy and in order, and without Quinn's bag, it would appear as if it hadn't recently been lived in.
Quinn padded down the hall into the small bathroom, groaning as she looked in the mirror. A bruise was starting to blossom on the left side of her jaw, contrasting strongly with her pale skin. She glanced down at her hands, old scars had been covered with fresh bruises and cuts, the sight made her wince. Hoping to smooth some of her stress, Quinn decided to take a shower and try to let the steaming water carry away her troubles. She needed one after the fight anyways and she wasn't stupid enough to shower in the locker room.
Once done and changed into fresh clothes, Quinn bandaged her knuckles and put a salve on the angry bruise on her jaw. Her thoughts kept drifting to the anonymous message from earlier. She was going to go to the coordinates, there was no doubt about that. Although, she couldn't help but feel wary about the message. A great portion of her life was built around secrecy, after all.
Quinn glanced at the small clock in the sitting room, noting that it was already two o'clock. So, she had to be at the coordinates in an hour. She could do that. Grabbing her bag and keys from the armchair, Quinn hurried out of her apartment, securing the lock behind her.
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A bank was definitely not something that she was expecting. A rundown warehouse perhaps, a storefront that had a suspicious back room, maybe. But not a bank, and certainly not one that looked like this. It was small compared to the other buildings around it, covered in pristine white paint. There was a green space in front of it, a few children running around while their parents looked on. The sight caused a twinge in Quinn's heart and she looked away.
Quinn's eyes immediately searched the area for surveillance cameras, finding that a great deal of them were directed at the bank. It could be normal security, after all, a bank is a bank. She doubted it though. Quinn walked up to the great glass doors of the Crowford Bank and stepped inside. The interior of the bank appeared very modern, a surprise from the rest of New York's banks. Not knowing what to do next, Quinn warily made her way to the front desk. There was man waiting, wearing a pair of spectacles and he leaned forwards insistently as she neared him. He asked for the coordinates in a quick whisper and Quinn stared at him for a moment before supplying them. The memorized numbers tumbled out of mouth and the spectacled man discretely nodded with another employee before telling Quinn to have a seat, gesturing at a white sofa.
Turning, Quinn noticed a few people already at the sofa, alarms going off in her head. The only spot on the sofa was between two brunettes, a man and a woman. Quinn opted to go over and stand beside the sofa instead, not wanting to place herself in a confined situation. She stood closer to the right side of the sofa, rubbing at her taped knuckles. The throbbing of the bruise on her jaw had calmed down, but she could still feel it. She hated to think what it would look like.
Joey's mind was racing as he decided that he'd try to figure out any details of the person that contacted that he could. "The person knew my old name so it's unlikely that this is some elaborate prank. They had people who knew who I was, or at least knew what I looked like to make sure I wasn't just some random guy. So this person either has a lot of connections with the bank or there's something more going on here. Maybe I shou-" Joey's thought was suddenly stopped as he heard a voice next to him. Turning his head he saw that the voice belonged to the woman that was seated on the sofa.
Joey was about to ignore the woman until he heard her talk about an acquaintance. The word itself wasn't what caught his attention, but how she said it. "It looks like I'm not the only one who got a letter." he thought as he briefly narrowed his eyes. The woman herself was nothing out of the ordinary, but she must have been in on whatever was going on. Either that or this woman was as clueless as he was. "Whatever part she has in this will probably reveal itself later so for now making an assumption wouldn't be smart." Joey thought as he turned himself to face towards the entrance. "The name's Tyler Banks." He said while ignoring the girls outstretched hand. He had decided to use his fake name instead of his real one just to see how much this girl knew.
Joey continued to stare at the glass entrance until another woman entered. This one was an interesting one to say the least as she looked like she belonged in a UFC ring rather than a bank. What was more interesting was the fact that the women walked right up the the assistant just like he had. And just like before the assistant leaned forward and Joey could just make out what he was saying by reading his lips. "So this woman is in on this too? Just how many people are in on this?" He asked himself as the woman walked over and stood by the other girls end of the sofa. "Oh well it's not like there's anyone trying to kill me." Joey thought before a chill ran down his spine. "Huh, weird" he thought before once again turning his attention to the front door.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
1 Year ago the military was on the losing side of the war. All seemed bleak until one soldier brought a penguin in to training. They had trained that penguin in the use of explosives and sent him out into the field. They had thought that they had won but the agent went rouge. Now he only lives on as a legend, the legend of ShotgunPenguin.
Sam watched as the man narrowed his eyes, seemingly having caught her message. 'Guess that social interaction paid off after all.' As he then turned around, she then placed her hand back into her jacket's pocket to avoid it from possibly getting awkward, however, she still seemed as friendly as before in her expressions. The hand however, still instinctively gripped slightly onto her gun while not making it noticeable, as something told her that things were about to go very wrong, and she couldn't shake this feeling off for some reason.
She started to look out of the door as well, also noting that the man was doing that as well. 'Looks like he got a message too...', she thought to herself silently. After that, Sam had also seen a woman enter the room, going straight to the front desk and speaking in whispered tones as well, before simply stationing herself beside the sofa. The bruise on her face had caught her eye for a split second as she was examining her quickly. 'She must've gotten into a fight recently...' After waiting for another minute or so, she simply checked her phone for one more time, noticing that around three minutes had already passed since the time given, before one of the staff had whistled out to the trio of them and gestured for them to follow into the locked room seen before.
Upon standing up and walking very casually to the door, the employee with spectacles opened the door, to reveal a relatively small and dark concrete room, which walls were filled with safety deposit boxes. After just looking inside, she immediately concluded that her previous assumption was correct: the anonymous messenger had sent them here to collect something. Upon stepping inside, the other employee stayed at the counter while the other in the room opened up one of the larger boxes, revealing a brown package which had already been opened. They brought the container out, revealing three dark greyish Uzi SMGs, and a set of black wireless transmitters that one would put into their ears in order to communicate with others.
The man quietly offered the items to the group, before he then simply said another message sent by Nerve.
"Hurry."
A man stood in a hotel room, peeking out of the blinds through the windows, quietly looking on a certain district of New York. There were nine other men located in the rustic and old room, either sitting on the bed assembling what would like assortments of firearms, or simply minding their own business in corners of the room. Who appeared to be the leader immediately pressed his finger onto a transmitter fitted into his ear, before turning around to quickly talk to his team, of which everyone seemed to be dressed in black suits.
"Storm has eyes on the new recruits. We move in one minute, and we head for Crowford Bank.", everyone else simply nodded and got prepared extraordinarily quickly, only packing what looked like weapons and gear before they were out of the building and in their vehicles. A black SUV glimmered slightly in the sunlight, before it then drove off in a hurry, along with four other men on motorcycles of the same colour.
A digital interface watched the vehicles route to the bank, the countdown eventually reading: '00:00:32'.
Kaj nearly jumped out of bed, these words resounding in his head. There was no way he slept in so late! He had had an alarm set, and he wasn't the kind of guy to sleep in on important dates! Maybe next time Kaj thought as he slipped on simple jeans and a bright yellow 'go figure' shirt. The shirt had a picture a of a number slightly confused, and it seemed to be shrugging in some ironic way. Either way, after it was thrown on, so were shoes and socks and then Kaj was out the door. Simple, really.
Kaj had been moving around lately to hide this little stunt of his. He had traveled to a nearby restaurant, went to a local museum, and had been staying i n this hotel for what seemed to be about 2 days. Either way, be picked this exact one because it was right across from the coordinates. Checking them one more time, Kaj left his hotel for probably the last time rather simply, all signs of stress dissipating as he went down the elevator, said a flirty goodbye to the girl behind the counter, and left through the swinging doors.
Walking was something Kaj did alot. Frankly, he enjoyed walking. Calmed his mind, and normally let him think. So today his mind wandered to hypnotism. This was a rather normal train of thought, but Kaj wanted to know where it was headed. He jumped aboard simply, watching as his mind wandered. There, he came across some of the good and the bad that he had done through hypnotism. He cured Joe of an addiction, saved one of his girlfriends from depression, and had helped his teacher have no pain from childbirth. Really, Kaj was proud of these achievements. The next stop is what he feared.
Kaj wasn't a particularly lustful man. He found girls just as pretty as the next guy. But sometimes, you just want to try to stretch the limits of things, and that's exactly what Kaj did.
Shivering, Kaj found himself before the simple bank that had been assigned as the coordinates. The girl at the counter waved at him, and Kaj pasted on a bright smile and a friendly wave. This friendly demeanor continued as Kaj walked past the other girl who asked for the coordinates, Kaj playing along perfectly as he turned slightly and fingered them to her. His happy, brisk pace continued as he saw a couch. Quite simple, and looked rather empty. Maybe he was earlier than he thought? Sitting down, Kaj wondered why he had even been invited here. Of course, he didn't have much time to think as an employee rushed him into a room, some how combining urgency and relaxation at the same time. When Kaj entered the locked room and saw guns and such being handed out, Kaj raised an eyebrow, his smile disappearing.
"What's this?"
The employee looked at him and quickly and easily handed him a gun and earpiece.
"Why do we need these?"
Kaj looked to the other for an answer, hoping for something obvious and simple.
((Alright then, accepted.))
((Thanks guys, I feel so appreciated!))
Name
Kaj Adlev
Age
25
Gender
Male
Personality
Kaj comes off as a nice, socially acceptable fellow, slow to anger and quick to understand. He is rather emphatic, and makes friends easier than a fly finds food. The thing is, the man actually has a very scary ability to manipulate people like puddy. Like, seriously, this guy can convince anyone of anything, and can quickly change people's opinions on nearly anything. The man got this ability from a combination of birth and psychology. Besides this, the man is just your average neighbor; calm, friendly, and someone you always want to be around. Wait....
Appearance
Kaj definitely is not an attractive man. He stands at 6'0", and his scronny figure barely weights 130 pounds. Honestly, the man should work out. He has brown hair, more like a mop than really a clean, well tempered head. His eyes are blue-green, and always seem way too small underneath his dark brown glasses. His cheeks are the exact opposite of fat, and his nose is equally small. He has small lips, which are often cracked, and equally small ears. Despite this, the man doesn't normally appear suspicious to others.
Kaj prefers bright clothes such as white T-shirt and jeans or blue shirt with matching green shorts.
Bio
Kaj was born into a rather poor family. Both his parents were, frankly, rather stupid with there money and frequently made stupid mistakes that costs lots of money. Both of them barely had enough money for Kaj, and they nearly gave him up for adoption. Despite this, Kaj loved his parents and his environment. Everything always seemed normal to him, and he didn't notice just how poor his parents where. His teachers and friends were rather big friends of Kaj, and everyone seemed to easily build a relationship with the straight A student. Something was definitely different about the kid. But it wasn't until high school that he found out exactly what that was.
See, one of the many clubs of his high school was all about studying future careers. It was called "The Future You". Of course, there was the usual - doctors, writers, engineers, programmers, sports people....but one particular group interested Kaj.
The hypnotism division.
Now, many of the other people in the group struggled to get As, and many had a hard time making friends. Kaj was neither of those, and therefore was ahead of the rest of the group. He only had to watch the hypnotist hypnotize twice before he could do it. And he did it well. Maybe too well. In fact, the hypnotist himself told Kan that he should take a break from hypnotism after his junior year. The hypnotist thought that the man would be so good, he would be able to bend nearly anyone's will - and Kaj was already good at convincing others to get hypnotized.
See, hypnotism only works if the volunteer actually wants to be hypnotized, and if the hypnotist and the hypnoee have some sort of rapport. And Kaj was wonderful and convincing people, and building rapport. You could see how it could get out of hand.
Kaj didn't take a break his senior year. No, he wanted to test the limits of hypnotism. By now he had discovered of his parents' inability to responsibly spend money. It was rather easy for Kaj to fix that. Kaj discovered that a class was too hard for one of his classmates. Just a few tweeks, and the class was a touch easier. It seemed Kaj was only helping people. Of course, with power comes great responsibility, and his parents weren't the best at teaching responsibility. Thankfully, nothing major could be done with hypnotism - it took at least 30 minutes to put people under, let alone suggest people!
And then college came along.
Everything changed. Kaj had entered a psychology-based college, and had taken psychology as a major. Most of the basics he already knew, and the classes were easy. Of course, his dormmate was teaching him something new.
Street conversational hypnotism.
See, this hypnotism could not only hypnotize people EASILY, FASTLY, and WITHOUT CONCENT, but it could be used without any time to implant suggestions midconversation via psychological loopholes in people's brains. Obviously, things started building from there.
Kaj just finished college, and had just started to use hypnotism in an untrustworthy way when he got the message. Gulping, Kaj hoped he could save his life with a few of his tricks. Taking a few trinkets, he packed quickly before wandering to the destination, taking trains, subways, and planes around so that it wouldn't be obvious where he was going.
Skills
Hypnotism, covert hypnotism, and psychology are all in his repitoire. In other words, manipulation.
Inventory
A small knife, and clothes. Everything else can be done simply with mouth and hands.
Name: Joey Smith
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Personality: Joey isn't very friendly, preferring to keep to himself most of the time. However this does not mean that he is shy or an introvert, he simply believes that having friends in his line of work would only end up with someone dead. While he may seem cold and heartless on the outside, on the inside he can't stand to see someone being hurt and if it won't jeopardize him or his mission he will try his best to help that person out. And while you may find it hard if you can break past his outer shell you'll see that deep down Joey is really just a nice guy who was dealt a bad hand when he was born. Oh and don't do anything to hurt a child while this guy is around because believe me, if you think death is the scariest thing that can happen to you then you are wrong, so very wrong.
Appearance: Joey comes in at an average of 5'9 with short brown hair. He has light blue eyes and a few scars on his face from when his parents would beat him. He keeps his face clean shaven mostly because the only beard he could grow would look better on a 9'th grader. He has a slim but athletic build perfect for crawling through vents and hiding behind walls. He usually wears a black t-shirt underneath a slate jacket that conceals his handgun. On his lower half he wears a pair of faded blue jeans and a pair of worn brown boots. His ballistic suit covers him from the neck down in a slimming black. All of his equipment is stored in the various pouches on his suit.
Bio: Joey was born in the slums of New York city to a two-bit street hustler who brought down his mom from a bright future as a pharmacist. In his early years Joey's family struggled with crippling debt, break-ins every week, and a corrupt police force. Things got worse when his mother had started to drink constantly. Usually Joey would hide in the closet and cry when she got bad enough, but sometimes she would find him and beat beat him senseless. His father was even worse, constantly berate him about what a waste he was and how their life would be better without him. Their abuse didn't end there, one time they came into his school just to take him out and beat him.
The abuse lessened when he turned 8 and his father decided that he'd have to earn his keep from now on by helping his dad hustle and scam. His father would distract the target and while they weren't looking Joey would sneak in and pickpocket them. He didn't know right from wrong and the few times his father would praise him would silence his conscience. This went on for a few more years until Joey turned 15 and his father had decided to pull off the quote "big one." This scam was supposed to set him and his family for life and get them out of the slums, or at least that was what was supposed to happen.
His father got word that a high end piece of equipment was going to be moving through the area. The equipment would be inside of a black van that would be moving in during the night. The plan was to use Joey to act as a distraction while has father and another guy took care of the guards and the driver and take off with whatever they were hauling. The first part of the plan worked perfectly, Joey "accidentally" fell in front of the van making it stop, but after that everything went crazy. As soon as his father went to grab whatever it was they were grabbing the cops showed up. They didn't even issue a warning they just got out of their cars and opened fire, killing his father and the other guy. Joey did the only thing he could have done and hid until they left.
When he got home in the morning his house had been broken into, everything of value was gone and in the middle of the house was his mothers lifeless corpse. Joey didn't know what to do so he did the only thing that he was taught to do. He took anything he could from the house and left, never looking back. He traveled a lot then, going from place to place and scamming who he could until the cops caught onto him. This all changed when he was finally caught in Pennsylvania after robbing a convenience store. He spent the next 2 years of his life in Juvenile hall until he was let out on parole. After that he swore to turn his life around and do good for a change.
So with a quick name change Joey went back to school under the name "Tyler Banks" and was employed by a private security firm when he was 23. He was trained in the use of multiple firearms, mostly handguns as anything larger would draw suspicion. He was also trained in hand to hand combat as well as blunt weapons like batons and tonfas. Joey enjoyed his new life but something still felt missing. It wasn't until he was 28 until he realized what he was missing. Sure he liked doing good but nothing could beat the way doing bad made him feel. He started off as being just a hired thug, but over time he realized that he was better off sticking to the shadows instead standing in plain sight. So Joey started offering his services as someone who could slip in, get what you want and get out before they even realize what happened.
Things were looking pretty sweet, he had just bought a new apartment in the nicer part of New York when he received a letter in his mail. Nothing out of the ordinary until he noticed that the name on the letter read "Joey Smith." This immediately caught his attention as all of the other mail was addressed to his new name. Joey read the letter and was surprised to see the name Solion come up in the message. The name had come up in a few data pulls that he had done but they never went into anything specific. Still though whoever this person was knew Joeys real name and even if this was some sort of prank maybe he'd find out who this person was and how he knew him. After getting everything in order Joey packed his gear, checked his guns and headed out to the coordinates he was given.
Skill: Joey is skilled in the art of infiltration and espionage. His past experience in security allowing him to recognize most security systems and their flaws. He can also recognize the movements of guards and using that information usually predict their intended path and how they'll react if they were to encounter an intruder. He has also broken into multiple heavily guarded facilities without being detected making him skilled in silent infiltration.
His training in security had not left him resulting in him being able to use most firearms smaller than an assault rifle with relative ease. His hand to hand combat skills are also nothing to scoff at, however if put against an opponent who had trained in primarily hand to hand combat Joey would easily be outclasses.
Inventory: Due to his line of work Joey has learned to pack light and pack smart for quick getaways, both in the field and in day to day life. His usual gear consists of a full ballistic suit layered with gore-tex that has multiple pouches. The suit can stop up to a 308. round without bodily harm. He also carries a pair of night vision goggles, a suppressed 1911 pistol with 2 additional magazines, a set of fiber wire, a 1 terabit portable flash drive and a PDA that he can use to access security cameras and other devices.
Whenever he isn't on the job he carries a black wallet, a small pocket knife, a smart phone, a pack of gum and a concealed Glock 19.
((Done! Wish I could have worked a little more in it, but I sort of just rushed it out. Sorry.))
((Accepted Erip, it'd be great if you could explain to me the extent to how your character uses his hypnotism. I might be just slightly worried about his ability to instantly manipulate people(or just have misconceptions). I've very rarely heard of hypnotism without consent, and I have no idea whether or not it's even possible.))
((Great app Shotgun, accepted.))
((Alright, I'll be dropping the IC post very soon.))
((Well, it works to the extent of normal hypnotism - which street hypnotism, or covert hypnotism, or whatever you want to call it, is an actual method of hypnotism. I would link, but most of it is NSFW. Most of it works because of psychological loopholes and confusion - when you utterly confuse someone or something, they immediatly search for a way out, or for something orderly to do, hence the 'sleep' command to start a trance. Besides this, it only works by ignoring the consicious mind, so only moral buried deep in the subconscious can be prevented, such as preventing self harm. In fact, there is whole videos of people being hypnotized to shoot people - not that they knew it was a fake gun.
i'm kinda a hypnotisis nerd, sorry. One of my many hobbies, although I can confirm it works rather well.))
((Ah, I see. Just a few more questions though. How powerful can street/covert hypnotism be without consent and is it as effective on people who don't believe in hypnotism or are perhaps skilled in human behaviour, psychology or even hypnosis?))
A three storey building, recently painted in a new coat of white paint, stood quietly in a row of other much taller buildings. It was in front of what could be said to be a park, with a few adults sitting on benches, watching their children play around with each other as they discussed about current events with one another. It was currently a Friday in August, with the Sun still visible and only partially blocked by a few clouds. There seemed to be relatively few people walking on the granite pathways that were placed beside the buildings, and the Crowford Bank itself received very little visitors at this time.
A brunette, dressed in a black jacket which covered a dark grey shirt, stood alone in a dark alleyway further away. Leaning on the dark brick wall, she examined the building silently from a distance. Both of her hands were placed in her jacket's pockets, the right hand currently gliding a finger on a slim black pistol, and the other holding a silencer, ready to bring it out at anytime and attach it to the firearm. However, if anyone spotted her, she appeared as calm as ever. In fact, she was almost simply smirking to herself.
Sam looked around with quick glances. No one appeared to be waiting or watching her. However, she knew better. She looked slightly up to notice a few surveillance cameras placed around the areas, some of them simply mounted on walls of buildings, but most of them facing the bank. 'Is this a trap fabricated by Solion itself?', she pondered to herself for a while before pushing the thought away, comforting herself with the fact that she would most likely be able to escape. 'Hmm... the coast looks clear anyways...', Sam thought to herself before looking down at her phone. It looked like nothing available on the market, nor did it appear to have the same interface as any of the main brands on sale these days. Upon turning it on, it simply displayed 6 numbers in a blackish background.
'14:59:42. It's time.', she appeared to have a very apathetic face at this point, simply looking to her sides continuously to see if anyone was currently watching her. As Sam walked out of the shadows and into her bright sunlight, no one seemed to notice her. She didn't even flinch once once reaching the walkway beside the buildings. The bank was in sight. Her right hand gripped upon the pistol, prepared to bring it out anytime to fire at an assailant. No one seemed to stand out. Looking through the glass doors of the bank, she noticed that very few people were inside. Just security, staff, and maybe two people looking around the area. Not stopping once, she fearlessly walked in, passing through a few security cameras as she did so. One even seemed to turn towards her direction and followed her.
The air conditioned room looked particularly clean, with a clean decor and most furniture appearing very modern. Sam cautiously walked forwards to the counter. Strangely enough, it appeared as if the assistant there was already waiting for some arrivals as he was staring out of the doorways and windows before she caught his attention. 'Looks like we're waiting for more visitors.', she noted upon finally reaching the front desk.
"What are the coordinates?", the man wearing glasses leaned forward and whispered, almost as if avoiding attention. Not even turning her head to the cameras to notice what was going on, she simply remembered the memorised number given to her through the anonymous encrypted letter on the internet and discreetly told it to him. The man simply turned around slightly to see another employee who was already looking at him, almost as if waiting for a signal. They both nodded to each other, before he told the woman to sit on the white leather sofa placed beside the wall for a while as the other staff member went off into a locked room to find what she assumed would be a package of sorts.
Sam simply did so, sitting on the right side of the furniture with her arm placed on the arm rest. She kept her attention to the desk and the glass entrance which gave her a view of the outside. For some reason, her instinct was bugging her that this was about to go really badly...
A bright white digital interface, cluttered with views from surveillance feeds everywhere in New York, suddenly paid attention to a certain area of New York. Storm had recently noticed that a planned victim for assassination today had suddenly done something unpredicted: entering the Crowford Bank despite having no connections to it whatsoever, not to mention the counter assistant she didn't know suddenly had a short hushed conversation with her.
The top left of the screen simply read 'Scanning anomaly in Crowford Bank district...', before it brought up large amounts of boxes, each giving a different view of the place. A white square had been placed on each person's face it saw, most likely to tell apart the number of people. Another line below the sentence read 'Hacking process into Crowford Bank databases complete.' With that, it gained access to the bank's feeds. More squares were added to the newly identified staff and customers. One in particular, a woman sitting on the sofa, had been given a red square. All of the feeds which had the women in it were then bordered red, before it began looking through the other feeds it could find around the surrounding area, noticing that there were other planned victims arriving in the district.
It quickly put together, that these people were all correlated to each other because they were all planned for assassinations... and that they were all listed in a thumb drive Primary Threat Blake had failed in stealing three days ago. Storm concluded that Nerve must've assembled them here. With that in mind, all the other arriving Primary Threats had been given a red square on their faces as well, along with feeds displaying them now having a red border.
Crowford Bank District - Primary Threats
It listed these names out, before a sentence appeared next to the list of names, which simply read: 'Dispatching Team V08 To Location...' After a few seconds, a countdown began replaced that sentence, which showed: 'Estimated Time Until Arrival: 00:04:32.'
((Well, actually, those are all of the questions that the psychologists are trying to answer right now. But to my experience -
1. Concent very, very rarely matters for covert hypnotism. As long as the person doesn't realize they are being hypnotized until they are already under, they won't put up any barriers.
2. It is actually rather funny to hypnotize someone WHILE they say they can't be hypnotized. Kind of goes with 1 - if they know how hypnosis works, they will know what to ignore. Of course, the type of hypnosis my character recently learned, street hypnosis, is all about surprise and catching your client unexpected. It's the kind of hypnotism that not most psychologists, or frankly, people, believe until they see it. And again, once they are under, only morals they would never dare to break can be avoided. Consider this though - friends and memories can reside in conscious or subconscious, depending in how close the memory or friend. What's weird is with hypnosis, you can get any person to remember ANY event in their life - even ones their conscious mind doesn't recognize. So the limits all just depend - their are some people who just won't get hypnotized because they have more confidence then the hypnotist. Not that it is a mental challenge, but they put up such a mental blockade that any obvious signs immediately alert their mind. Although, you have to be careful with this - if you put up too much of a mental barrier, then if you do go under, you'll go under hard.
I don't know if I made this obvious yet, but I couldn't shake someone's hand, immediately put them under, and then convince them to shoot their friend. Covert hypnotism is just another way to get them under - once they are under, however, you have to get them deeper and deeper into trance until whichever command you are suggesting can be properly, well, done. If you want your subject to give up smoking, something they likely want to do, it may take second of being in trance. But for things like convince them to be violent, lustful, or animalistic, things against their conscious, they have to be deep in trance.))
((Hmm... okay, you're in the clear then.))
((Lol, I'm 'in the clear' to use science with my character.
LOL.))
((Also, how do you want us to start our opener?))
((Sorry about that, it's just that I'm not too familiar about this type of science. Hypnotism is a concept that many people have been fascinated by for almost centuries, even until today. As most people might say, it's just a small part of a puzzle that is the human brain. And as of right now, we aren't even close to figuring out how the brain works. It'd be like having a character which has over ten years completed Project MKUltra after picking up where the CIA left off and placing him in the roleplay. It sure is not impossible, and there are documents recorded which say it's most definitely possible(which are also scientific), but I'm not particularly sure about it.
And honestly, I myself haven't actually seen hypnosis work in the flesh or even without consent(and all sources I've been reading on do actually note that hypnosis will not work if you don't want to be hypnotised). Other than stage hypnosis videos(which do have people giving consent) that is. Besides that, my reasoning to myself was that if hypnotism really worked as easily as described, anyone could be a hypnotist and just hypnotise everyone in their way to get rich quick(by subconsciously suggesting to a recent acquaintance to hand over all his money for example). But clearly, if that were the case, the whole world would just be filled with hypnotist criminals, which I don't think is the case. So do forgive me if I was skeptical about it.))
((In terms of how everyone should be writing the opener, just write that your character arrived at the bank. Once that's done(and maybe some interaction if you'd like), I'll move the story on.))
When I woke up this morning I was a bit on edge and uncertain. Should I go to the coordinates and possibly have something happen, or should i stay in the comfort of my nice warm house. I had to go to the supermarket anyway so I decided maybe I would take a quick detour. I borrowed my mothers car, just like I normally do to get to the supermarket, and I took the fastest route I could to the coordinates. I was surprised to see that it wasn't some old abandon warehouse or some creepy old alley. This was my last chance, turn back or go in. I went with my gut and went in, carrying nothing but my laptop, keys and knife.
"This is Dan Domingo bringing you all of the hits from the past. Coming up now is my man Bon Jovi with " Wanted Dead or Alive"" The song had just begun when Joey turned off the radio. He was nearing the area where he was instructed to wait, but before that he wanted to get a view of the general area. If things went south he wanted to be able to know what his options would be regarding his exit strategy. Parking his car a block away from a sparsely occupied park Joey turned off the car and opened the door. Getting out of his car Joey closes the door and walks around to the trunk of the car. He unlocked the trunk before opening it and grabbing a large black suitcase out of the trunk. Inside of this suitcase was all of his usual gear for a job, along with a few extra magazines for his glock.
Closing the trunk door Joey took a minute to observe his surroundings. The nearby park had only a few people in it, mostly parents with their children. It was mainly wide open with a few trees dotting the area. The trees wouldn't provide much cover in a firefight but they might be useful to hide himself if he could scale it in enough time. Not noting anything else that could be useful in the area Joey began to walk towards where he was supposed to wait, the Crowford Bank. As he was walking Joey took a brief second to adjust his holster so that it wouldn't be visible if someone glanced at him.
After adjusting his holster Joey continued to walk towards the bank. As he got closer to the bank he began to notice the cameras that kept a watchful eye on the area. Most of them seemed to focus on the bank itself and the area around the bank. No doubt an effort to get the most information possible in the event of a robbery, but the problem with that is that cameras could only cover so much. Joey continued to observe his surroundings before he arrived at the steps of the bank. "Well looks like it's time to find out who this guy is" He thought as he entered the bank.
Joey was surprised at the small amount of security inside of the bank. There were only a few visible guards, each of them armed with handguns. Upon further inspection Joey recognized the handguns as a Sig Saucer P220R compact, a nice concealable gun that offered decent stopping power. He would have to look out for that in case things got heated. Joey was confident in his abilities in a gunfight, however in an area with little cover against multiple targets he would have a greater risk of getting hit. "Whatever, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it" He thought before walking up to the front counter where the assistant stood.
When Joey stopped in front of the counter the assistant took one look at him before leaning in and whispering "What are the coordinates?" The mans glasses stared at Joey as he recited the coordinates that he had been given in the letter, whispering it loud enough for the assistant to hear. The assistant straightened himself before turning to face another assistant, both of them nodding before the first assistant told Joey to have a seat on the sofa by the wall. As the other assistant went into a locked room Joey decided to sit on the left side of the sofa, opposite to the woman that was already sitting there. He decided to keep his suitcase on the ground next to his legs as he placed his left arm onto the armrest. As he sat there waiting for the assistant to come back Joey couldn't shake a feeling that he'd gotten. It felt like something was off but for the moment he decided to ignore it. Besides it was nothing more than a feeling, right?
((Just a quick note, only once everyone has arrived at the bank will the action begin.))
Sam had kept to herself, noticing once again that the bank was relatively quite empty, with only her, the staff, and one or two customers being present in the building. The fingers on her right hand seemed to slightly tap the arm rest in a bit of a pattern, possibly signifying boredom, although her face still gave off the appearance of a particularly calm person. Although, something was slightly irking her, something she couldn't put her finger on. She'd call it her gut feeling, but she didn't really believe in things like that.
She looked back down at her phone to quickly check the time, before scanning the environment outside the bank through the glass doors once again. It was done as slowly as possible, but if one actually knew the current situation, you might've described her as slightly nervous. But once again, Sam attempted to push the thought away, before concentrating on other things, seeing that two men had arrived into the bank. They didn't look to be working together, so she wasn't exactly put on alert. Glancing slightly at one of the men, she noticed that he went straight to the counter, only to seemingly do the same thing she had just did a while back.
The briefcase he was carrying wouldn't exactly catch a normal's person's attention, but she wasn't normal. The staff member went back into the locked room, to most likely find something that the anonymous sender must've prepared for them. She then saw the man sit down on the left side of the sofa, quietly pondering to herself as she cautiously scanned the cameras that were watching them inside the room. '4. 4 eyes watching us.' She concluded to herself that this brown haired man must certainly be related to the strange message she got. However, as she had noted with the cameras, Sam simply tried to start a casual conversation, not wanting to attract too much unwanted attention.
"Hello, I guess you're here to pick something up from the bank huh? It's the same with me, an acquaintance sent me here, just to collect something.", the word acquaintance had been said in a bit of a normal way, however, someone who was in the same situation as her would've picked it up as off. The conversation however, was started in a bit of a jovial and friendly tone, which she would keep with herself as she went on. She then raised her gloved hand for a handshake, before continuing.
"I'm Sam by the way, nice to meet you."
((I definitely understand the sceptism. I've had many a person doubt that hypnotist works, until 5 minutes from then they're in their dream world, eating with percy jackson, shooting lightining out of their fingers, and flying. Lol.
And while I didn't believe covert hypnotism either, I'm going to tell you the honest truth - the reason hypnotists and such say it can't be done without concent is because imagine what would happen if everyone knew covert hypnosis, how it worked, and its 'limitations'.
Lastly, I have to stress that hypnosis does have limits. Every suggestion has to be phrased as to not cause alarm in the subject's mind. If I said "now give me all your money", they would immediately return to normal and probably slap you. You would have to go more to the lines of "now empty your pockets and such onto the table, and forget you ever had anything in your pockets." See the difference? Even in hypnotism without concent, this rule has to be followed.
IC post coming soon.))
Dodge right. Hard punch to the stomach. Jump left. Block right. Dodge left. Right uppercut. Dodge left. Roundhouse kick to left temple. The thud of a body hitting the cement ground. Broken and rough cheering. Bets passed around. Money exchanged. Another fight done.
Always the same routine. Always the same outcome.
Quinn Helgen is not a particularly prideful person, but when she first saw her most recent opponent, her attitude greatly changed. The guy didn't stand a chance. He was tall, his form much too lanky, with a wisp of straw hair and beady little eyes. The kind of guy who was still living in his mother's basement. He was counting on his lanky speed to win against a hopefully newbie fighter. Unfortunately for Mr. Spaghetti Arms, Quinn wasn't new to the organization. Even the crowd had scoffed when he entered the room, bets were all placed in Quinn's favour. She almost felt bad for the guy. This feeling quickly disappeared when he placed a well timed punch to her jaw. Needless to say, he didn't last long.
Her jaw was throbbing now, Quinn held ice to it as she sat in what was informally known as the locker room. Dubbed for the wall of lockers on one side and a few showers stalls against the far wall, although no one ever used either of them. No one was stupid enough to leave their items unattended, especially in this environment. Quinn was sitting on one of the chipped benches that sat across from the lockers. The brick wall was cool against the back of her head as she leaned against it. She could hear the roars of excitement from outside the door as another fight began to take place. Quinn dully remembered Little John prepping when she had grabbed the ice that was now currently being held to her jaw.
She always thought that Little John was a strange name. His real name was John Tabern, a man with an impressive criminal record who was know to hulk over his opponents. The guy was huge, covered in tattoos and extremely tall, with fists the size of Quinn's head. She supposed that this is why he chose the name, the irony was obvious. Quinn had yet to fight John, but she pitied the poor soul who was on the other end of his fist today.
Finding herself surprisingly tired, Quinn got up from her position on the bench and left the locker room. She walked through the main fighting room, loud cheers and taunts echoing off the walls, the floor a combination of cement and old training mats. Quinn didn't bother stopping to watch the current fight, she didn't need to see Little John pound yet another kid into the ground.
Late morning light assaulted Quinn's eyes as she stepped out of the inconspicuous looking building. It was disguised as an old storage building, flat roofed and windowless. Quinn nodded to one of the men posted outside, squinting in the new light. She snuck out of the small district and onto one of the main streets, taking the quickest route back to her little apartment.
As she waited for a streetlight to turn red, Quinn's thoughts were pulled toward an incident from three days prior. Well, it wasn't really an incident, but it was strange to say the least. Someone had contacted her anonymously, bearing a warning of her impending death. Quinn had been wary of the message, but something about it had been nagging at her. She was suddenly dragged out of her reverie by the sound of cars honking and she hurried across the street.
Quinn's apartment was a modest one, despite being lived in for her entire childhood. It was all she needed though, a small living room and connected kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Her neighbors were quite too, a fact that Quinn was extremely grateful for. She often came home at strange hours, desperate for peace and quiet.
Quinn dug her apartment key our of her bag and forcefully stuck it in the familiar door. It opened with a click and she stepped inside, locking the door behind her. Quinn sighed and threw her bag down in a chair in the living room, her keys following soon after. The sitting room's walls were painted a soft brown color, a dark brown sofa was pushed in one corner and several armchairs were also placed in the room. A small television and radio sat in the room, barely used. A bookcase was also in the small room, many worn titles sat on the shelves. There were also some pictures on the wall, family pictures, school portraits, that sort of thing. Everything was tidy and in order, and without Quinn's bag, it would appear as if it hadn't recently been lived in.
Quinn padded down the hall into the small bathroom, groaning as she looked in the mirror. A bruise was starting to blossom on the left side of her jaw, contrasting strongly with her pale skin. She glanced down at her hands, old scars had been covered with fresh bruises and cuts, the sight made her wince. Hoping to smooth some of her stress, Quinn decided to take a shower and try to let the steaming water carry away her troubles. She needed one after the fight anyways and she wasn't stupid enough to shower in the locker room.
Once done and changed into fresh clothes, Quinn bandaged her knuckles and put a salve on the angry bruise on her jaw. Her thoughts kept drifting to the anonymous message from earlier. She was going to go to the coordinates, there was no doubt about that. Although, she couldn't help but feel wary about the message. A great portion of her life was built around secrecy, after all.
Quinn glanced at the small clock in the sitting room, noting that it was already two o'clock. So, she had to be at the coordinates in an hour. She could do that. Grabbing her bag and keys from the armchair, Quinn hurried out of her apartment, securing the lock behind her.
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
A bank was definitely not something that she was expecting. A rundown warehouse perhaps, a storefront that had a suspicious back room, maybe. But not a bank, and certainly not one that looked like this. It was small compared to the other buildings around it, covered in pristine white paint. There was a green space in front of it, a few children running around while their parents looked on. The sight caused a twinge in Quinn's heart and she looked away.
Quinn's eyes immediately searched the area for surveillance cameras, finding that a great deal of them were directed at the bank. It could be normal security, after all, a bank is a bank. She doubted it though. Quinn walked up to the great glass doors of the Crowford Bank and stepped inside. The interior of the bank appeared very modern, a surprise from the rest of New York's banks. Not knowing what to do next, Quinn warily made her way to the front desk. There was man waiting, wearing a pair of spectacles and he leaned forwards insistently as she neared him. He asked for the coordinates in a quick whisper and Quinn stared at him for a moment before supplying them. The memorized numbers tumbled out of mouth and the spectacled man discretely nodded with another employee before telling Quinn to have a seat, gesturing at a white sofa.
Turning, Quinn noticed a few people already at the sofa, alarms going off in her head. The only spot on the sofa was between two brunettes, a man and a woman. Quinn opted to go over and stand beside the sofa instead, not wanting to place herself in a confined situation. She stood closer to the right side of the sofa, rubbing at her taped knuckles. The throbbing of the bruise on her jaw had calmed down, but she could still feel it. She hated to think what it would look like.
Joey's mind was racing as he decided that he'd try to figure out any details of the person that contacted that he could. "The person knew my old name so it's unlikely that this is some elaborate prank. They had people who knew who I was, or at least knew what I looked like to make sure I wasn't just some random guy. So this person either has a lot of connections with the bank or there's something more going on here. Maybe I shou-" Joey's thought was suddenly stopped as he heard a voice next to him. Turning his head he saw that the voice belonged to the woman that was seated on the sofa.
Joey was about to ignore the woman until he heard her talk about an acquaintance. The word itself wasn't what caught his attention, but how she said it. "It looks like I'm not the only one who got a letter." he thought as he briefly narrowed his eyes. The woman herself was nothing out of the ordinary, but she must have been in on whatever was going on. Either that or this woman was as clueless as he was. "Whatever part she has in this will probably reveal itself later so for now making an assumption wouldn't be smart." Joey thought as he turned himself to face towards the entrance. "The name's Tyler Banks." He said while ignoring the girls outstretched hand. He had decided to use his fake name instead of his real one just to see how much this girl knew.
Joey continued to stare at the glass entrance until another woman entered. This one was an interesting one to say the least as she looked like she belonged in a UFC ring rather than a bank. What was more interesting was the fact that the women walked right up the the assistant just like he had. And just like before the assistant leaned forward and Joey could just make out what he was saying by reading his lips. "So this woman is in on this too? Just how many people are in on this?" He asked himself as the woman walked over and stood by the other girls end of the sofa. "Oh well it's not like there's anyone trying to kill me." Joey thought before a chill ran down his spine. "Huh, weird" he thought before once again turning his attention to the front door.
Sam watched as the man narrowed his eyes, seemingly having caught her message. 'Guess that social interaction paid off after all.' As he then turned around, she then placed her hand back into her jacket's pocket to avoid it from possibly getting awkward, however, she still seemed as friendly as before in her expressions. The hand however, still instinctively gripped slightly onto her gun while not making it noticeable, as something told her that things were about to go very wrong, and she couldn't shake this feeling off for some reason.
She started to look out of the door as well, also noting that the man was doing that as well. 'Looks like he got a message too...', she thought to herself silently. After that, Sam had also seen a woman enter the room, going straight to the front desk and speaking in whispered tones as well, before simply stationing herself beside the sofa. The bruise on her face had caught her eye for a split second as she was examining her quickly. 'She must've gotten into a fight recently...' After waiting for another minute or so, she simply checked her phone for one more time, noticing that around three minutes had already passed since the time given, before one of the staff had whistled out to the trio of them and gestured for them to follow into the locked room seen before.
Upon standing up and walking very casually to the door, the employee with spectacles opened the door, to reveal a relatively small and dark concrete room, which walls were filled with safety deposit boxes. After just looking inside, she immediately concluded that her previous assumption was correct: the anonymous messenger had sent them here to collect something. Upon stepping inside, the other employee stayed at the counter while the other in the room opened up one of the larger boxes, revealing a brown package which had already been opened. They brought the container out, revealing three dark greyish Uzi SMGs, and a set of black wireless transmitters that one would put into their ears in order to communicate with others.
The man quietly offered the items to the group, before he then simply said another message sent by Nerve.
"Hurry."
A man stood in a hotel room, peeking out of the blinds through the windows, quietly looking on a certain district of New York. There were nine other men located in the rustic and old room, either sitting on the bed assembling what would like assortments of firearms, or simply minding their own business in corners of the room. Who appeared to be the leader immediately pressed his finger onto a transmitter fitted into his ear, before turning around to quickly talk to his team, of which everyone seemed to be dressed in black suits.
"Storm has eyes on the new recruits. We move in one minute, and we head for Crowford Bank.", everyone else simply nodded and got prepared extraordinarily quickly, only packing what looked like weapons and gear before they were out of the building and in their vehicles. A black SUV glimmered slightly in the sunlight, before it then drove off in a hurry, along with four other men on motorcycles of the same colour.
A digital interface watched the vehicles route to the bank, the countdown eventually reading: '00:00:32'.
"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"
Kaj nearly jumped out of bed, these words resounding in his head. There was no way he slept in so late! He had had an alarm set, and he wasn't the kind of guy to sleep in on important dates! Maybe next time Kaj thought as he slipped on simple jeans and a bright yellow 'go figure' shirt. The shirt had a picture a of a number slightly confused, and it seemed to be shrugging in some ironic way. Either way, after it was thrown on, so were shoes and socks and then Kaj was out the door. Simple, really.
Kaj had been moving around lately to hide this little stunt of his. He had traveled to a nearby restaurant, went to a local museum, and had been staying i n this hotel for what seemed to be about 2 days. Either way, be picked this exact one because it was right across from the coordinates. Checking them one more time, Kaj left his hotel for probably the last time rather simply, all signs of stress dissipating as he went down the elevator, said a flirty goodbye to the girl behind the counter, and left through the swinging doors.
Walking was something Kaj did alot. Frankly, he enjoyed walking. Calmed his mind, and normally let him think. So today his mind wandered to hypnotism. This was a rather normal train of thought, but Kaj wanted to know where it was headed. He jumped aboard simply, watching as his mind wandered. There, he came across some of the good and the bad that he had done through hypnotism. He cured Joe of an addiction, saved one of his girlfriends from depression, and had helped his teacher have no pain from childbirth. Really, Kaj was proud of these achievements. The next stop is what he feared.
Kaj wasn't a particularly lustful man. He found girls just as pretty as the next guy. But sometimes, you just want to try to stretch the limits of things, and that's exactly what Kaj did.
Shivering, Kaj found himself before the simple bank that had been assigned as the coordinates. The girl at the counter waved at him, and Kaj pasted on a bright smile and a friendly wave. This friendly demeanor continued as Kaj walked past the other girl who asked for the coordinates, Kaj playing along perfectly as he turned slightly and fingered them to her. His happy, brisk pace continued as he saw a couch. Quite simple, and looked rather empty. Maybe he was earlier than he thought? Sitting down, Kaj wondered why he had even been invited here. Of course, he didn't have much time to think as an employee rushed him into a room, some how combining urgency and relaxation at the same time. When Kaj entered the locked room and saw guns and such being handed out, Kaj raised an eyebrow, his smile disappearing.
"What's this?"
The employee looked at him and quickly and easily handed him a gun and earpiece.
"Why do we need these?"
Kaj looked to the other for an answer, hoping for something obvious and simple.