Brave Galaxy is set in a world loosely based on Hiro Mashima’s Fairy Tail and Eden’s Zero. It is a PG-13 or so rated space fantasy RP, and uses a combination of character statistics, which can be acquired via roleplaying and events, and creative freedom to help direct players’ characters. While there is a main storyline, which can be found in the events section, characters are free to interact with others and their environment however they see fit.
Explore the galaxy. Overcome the obstacles in your path. Shape the future of humanity.
They say that sentry duty is 90% boredom, 10% terror. And while the glass spires and neon lights of Trillium were nothing like the remote conflicts of the Federation, it was evident to the group of Mikado Clan soldiers stationed around the perimeter that the day was going to be arduous. Arduous and boring.
"Watch for anything amiss."
A simple sentence, barked over a cheap Lachryma radio, was all that they were ordered to do. Simple and concise, its brevity only underscored how important this operation was to the people present. The Vanguard had been terribly displeased in the aftermath of the last executive meeting, and now every single one of the Captains were out to improve their standing. Some had taken to money laundering operations, others simply expanded the scope of their protection rackets. And for Captain Ernesto Mikado, that meant building another facility to crank out more of the good stuff, more Salt and Poppies to peddle out on the streets.
At a glance, the location was a solid choice. Cheap land, easily obtained legal deed, all within the proper urban zoning regulations. Heck, all of the paperwork for establishment of their front was indistinguishable from the real thing.
Ernesto did his homework well.
Three nondescript vans stopped before the entrance to the perimeter, their contents hidden in bags of all-purpose cement and weather-beaten drum barrels. But the man overseeing the operation knew better. Muriatic acid, ecgonine, cocktails of methyl esters and alkyl halides, the crown jewel of this sordid little affair. Workers clad in dusty, drab jumpsuits lugged duffel bags of equal parts construction tools and distillation kits in and out, overseen by the occasional soldier armed for game. It was rare that the Mikado Clan ended up packing heat: guns were too loud, too noticeable. Too inelegant. But that only demonstrated just how important this operation was to the executive behind it. Even more so the foreman.
He couldn't mess up here, not now. Not yet.
From a dimly lit office overseeing the synthesis lab, Isaac snuck a look at his watch. 23:30 hours. The night was long, and time was crawling at a snail's pace. Moreover, the Bannerman from Headquarters was late. Ernesto Mikado was nothing like his brother Paulo. For him, tardiness was a cardinal sin. And the longer they waited, the more likely it seemed to be his head on the chopping block.
A chair creaked, a door opened ajar, and the soldier stepped outside, buffeted by a howling gust that threatened to overtake Trillium, as it did many times before. Over the roar of the wind did he speak into his radio.
"Check in. Lao?"
"Nothing to report."
"Stone?"
"All good."
"Any sign of the Bannerman?"
"Nope."
"Nothin."
"Hold the perimeter. Let me know when the Bannerman comes. I'm gonna take a nap."
"Isaac, what the fuck–"
A loud creak, and the man slumped back into his folding chair, before closing his eyes. This was going to be a long night.
Post by Reya Starlyght on Mar 15, 2020 3:40:27 GMT
It felt good, getting back into the swing of his normal duties. Not that Leo's normal was anything close to the usual definition of it, but hey, infiltrating an up and coming crime syndicate in the capital sounded like heaven compared to the other predicaments he had gotten himself involved in lately. Among those were things he wished he could forget, to pass into oblivion like so many other insignificant memories, but alas he had already drank way too much attempting to do so. Really, all things considered, Leo knew he should have refused IMG's request. How could he be trusted, after all, if even in a genuine act all he had done was tear everything to pieces? No, no one needed to know about that, he was too ashamed, too terrified to address it. Everything just needed to fall back into place, a steady beat, rhythm, that was all he wanted; boredom didn't exactly help the dread that begged to be released.
That was how Leo had ended up in a tattoo parlor, out of all places. Of course, such was not a random, frivolous event, ink punctured into his skin never lasted long anyway, just like any other mark. Nay, the syndicate in question, the Mikado Clan which had only recently established itself in Trillium, used symbolism to convey membership, much the same as other, similar organizations. Naturally, IMG, and by extent himself, had no idea what the details meant, but they had recently uncovered a laboratory in the city with ties to others of similar caliber. A few strings pulled later, and Leo was thus named Elias Kristiansen, a man who had apparently once been a low ranking member of the clan, but had died in the very skirmish that had led to the mission in the first place. At least, he had once been a lowly henchmen, but it only took a few minor tweaks to change that.
Soon the artist's work was complete, and with the approximate time of meeting acquired from said raid quickly approaching Leo hurried to get all other preparations in order: a suit embroidered in the gaudy fashion gangsters usually wore, much to his abhorrence, and flashy jewelry of the same caliber. Well, really, he had put the latter on for about two seconds before deciding against it, he wasn't going to ruin his pride that much. That being said, he did slip his own ring from his left hand to his right, less suspicious, fewer questions asked, and for the hell of it fastened a watch onto his right wrist rather than the typical opposing. Minor details, yes, but for him it was the thought that counted. Such a close attention, however, inevitably made him a bit late to his destination, much to Leo's chagrin. Even with taking all the shortcuts he knew, which were many, the fact remained that he was behind schedule. A misstep, yes, but hopefully one that wouldn't have any lasting consequences.
At least Leo didn't have to check the address twice. Three vans were found at the building's perimeter, an obvious sign that something was amiss. Not that such was an uncommon sight in Trillium, it was a rather corrupt albeit glamorous metropolis, but the operation was painting a target on itself, if one knew the proper place to look. Evaluating the premises, Leo immediately thought of how easy it would be to simply obliterate the operation in its infancy, subsequently chiding himself on such a base observation. Of course, one facility would be easy to erase. Two more would pop up in its stead, however. Thus did he approach the doors, a casual smile present on his visage as the head of a dragon crept up from beyond his shirt's collar.
The plods of shoes on corrugated iron disturbed a good minute's slumber, and so did Isaac rouse himself from his chair. What happened? The soldiers guarding the perimeter had relieved themselves of their posts, and the workers in the synthesis lab had, in the ensuing confusion stopped production. The distillation kits lay unused, and their operators stood and gawked. Could it be?
Over the static of the radio did a voice come to life, harsh and grating, but all the while reassuring. Stone Nagumo, leader of the security detail.
"Isaac...we've got a visitor."
"Who is it?" The man hissed. A grey denim jacket did he throw on top of simple clothes and steel-toed boots, before sprinting down flight after flight of stairs, past the altar with its litanies of incense sticks, weaving through fume hoods and reflux apparatuses and purification vats, toward the entrance. Through a pair of heavy-set alloy doors did he arrive at the lobby, where a group of sentries shuffled about, jostling each other. And in front of them all, the ever familiar, burly figure of Stone, alongside an individual dressed in garments so gaudy that it put Stone's crocodile-skinned suit to shame. And that was no small feat.
"This man claims to be the Bannerman..." The sentries simply held their position, unsure on what to do. Certainly, this person did not appear to have stumbled upon this lab by accident, if his garments––and that redolent stench of cologne––were any indication. And if he were a Bannerman, there was just something about this person that made him seem more than the sum of his parts...either that or he was new as a junior executive. Those flashy garments were pretty high profile, and while that worked wonders for the Clan's protection rackets whenever they were out collecting their dues, high profile was not something he wanted to expose the lab too. The fewer prying eyes that come skulking about, the better.
"Is that so.." Isaac scrutinized the individual up and down, with narrowed dark brown eyes. In comparison to the elaborately dressed man, he cut a significantly less flattering figure; in his simple street garments he seemed more laborer than gangster. But appearances can often be deceiving. For all he knew, this person could be an interloper, or worse yet, a spy.
Post by Reya Starlyght on Mar 16, 2020 1:42:18 GMT
As he entered into the facility Leo was greeted by six sentries, the burliest one and therefore he ascertained the leader moving toward his side. No hand was drawn toward a weapon, however, although he thought the opposite at first before Leo realized the man was merely retrieving a communication device. A quick evaluation of the premises before the so called Isaac appeared was in order, as he simply closed his eyes for a brief second of concentration, blocking out one sense in favor of honing in on another. It was evident that there were more than a few personnel present, a broader scope than he had expected. No matter, such did not change Leo's course of action, nor did it serve to shake him in any way. A more detailed contingency plan was beginning to run through his head, however, although his silent plotting was interrupted by the arrival of Isaac.
Yes, it was apparent his attire was perhaps a bit out of place with the status quo of the laboratory, that much was an understatement, really. Yet it served Leo's purpose well, for rather than waltzing up to the security and claiming he was the inspector he had simply let his presence speak for itself. It was a good thing he hadn't said anything, in fact, for it swiftly dawned on Leo that the group had some... peculiar vernacular. Better to keep statements short, then, vague as well. He could only assume Bannerman meant a representative from the higher authorities, but this was uncharted territory and thus he would have to tread lightly. It was also beneficial that the sentries and inevitably the man that was summoned down below focused more so on his style of dress than his actual person, after all Leo wasn't entirely anonymous in the city, far from it as a matter of fact.
No formal introduction, no welcoming statements. Only a cryptic remark and a first name, he had worked with worse. "And not all who wander are lost," Leo responded, the hint of a smirk present on his visage. "A fancy lobby you have here, I must say, but what lies beyond it is the matter. Six guards, nonetheless, you can't merely be posing as an apartment complex. Perhaps consider putting a bit more work into the front end of the operation, eh?" No doubt, any hapless civilian who happened to wander into the facility was likely killed on the spot. That was messy work, however, a missing persons case could easily lead to the untimely demise of the laboratory. Which was... well, Leo wasn't concerned about that. He had to somehow muster up an inch of credibility from the facade, however, that was really his entire purpose. A stepping stone into the network of the Mikado Clan, so to speak.
"You'll have to forgive our indiscretion, Bannerman, but this apartment complex prides itself on its focus on security. Can't be too careful now, what with...all these troublemakers in Trillium. What would a tenant think if some hoodlum was able to skulk about here?"
A fist and a palm met one another in salute, and the man bowed nevertheless, as the strange man uttered the passphrase. A small flick of two fingers did Isaac make, and the guards followed suit, faces hewn like stone. For the man who answered was the Bannerman, and it was their solemn duty as soldiers of the Mikado Clan to entreat him. Perhaps this one was a little off, yes, but he was one of them. And so, without another word did the guards return to their duty. Two soldiers posted at the entrance. Two soldiers posted at the back. And two soldiers to follow the Mikado Clan sub-lieutenant and the Bannerman whom he was to entreat.
"Please, follow me."
Casually disregarding the Out of Order sign on those heavy-set alloy doors that he had just emerged from did the man enter once more, bidding Leo follow. And through those doors were where the humdrum of reality and all the pretense of the apartment complex fell apart, where the real magic happened. Distillation Kits and reflux apparatuses abounded, organized neatly in a production line spanning the entire floor, staffed by laborers clad in pristine coveralls and goggles. Were it not for the armed guards and the haphazard arrangement of clean, packaged bricks of product piled to the side, it could have been indistinguishable from a proper lab.
"Production of existing goods on the market have been a little slow at first, but we're beginning to pick up speed. Boscan Salt, Pergrandian Poppy, you name it," Isaac droned. There was something about his inflection that insinuated that he was tired, but it was to be expected after all. There was only so much one could do in making a purer yield of Pergrandian Poppies or Boscan Salt, a few tweaks here and there and the rest was factory work. And as impressive as it might've seemed to any in the realm of drug trafficking, this was but the tip of the iceberg. The main attraction lay elsewhere.
If he pulled his cards right, he could change the entire game. Hell, maybe the Mikado Clan would promote him to Captain for his efforts. Maybe then could he have the authority to tell Ernesto, that entitled bastard, to fuck right off.
Pride always comes before a fall. Your brother learned that well, what's to say that it won't be you too?
A dissonant whisper crept down the length of Isaac's spine, the wry and raspy chuckle of something beyond the comprehension of mortal. A shade. A fragment of the Deep, made manifest in the mind of one connected. A Tenshi. They came and went from time to time, but now, especially now that the Bannerman had come, they were getting more prevalent. Curious.
Post by Reya Starlyght on Mar 28, 2020 1:56:32 GMT
He couldn't help but chuckle at Isaac's response, the humor a clever retort. It was apparent the Mikado Clan was more than willing to use force, then, any potential negotiations would be tricky in that matter. However, more importantly, the head of the operation and his guards seemed to buy Leo's guise for the moment, although it was completely possible they were simply leading him into a trap. He wasn't overly concerned about the latter, that was more so an instinctual thought. Granted, the watchmen did seem physically capable, but hey, he would deal with the consequences of his actions if and when they did arrive. For now, there was a drug lab to inspect.
Upon a rudimentary glance, Leo was genuinely impressed. The laboratory looked more like one he would have stumbled upon in a university, rather than synthesizing the illicit substances it apparently was. The equipment clean to the touch, all employees clad in protective gear of some kind, it was almost as if their supervisor knew firsthand what proper lab safety was, and cared enough about his workers to implement it. A welcome surprise, perhaps the Clan was more organized than he had initially thought. Evidently Isaac was merely going through the motions with his little tour, however, no pride instilled in his words. A bit of a shame, really, for while Leo was not terribly experienced when it came to evaluating synthesizing labs, the one before him exceeded all expectations. "I see security is not your only priority, this is a far more... hygienic operation than I would have expected. Efficient, too, by the looks of it," he commented. "Do you cut your products, or are you more interested in the selling point of quality?"
Another mostly meaningless detail, at least in the realm of gathering information on the Mikado Clan, but it was key to settle into the role given, to make all inquiries subtle, blended between the lines of legitimacy. Building trust was another important factor, especially in the case of his particular mission. A singular drug lab was not what IMG was interested in, after all, their quarry laid deeper within the web of the Clan, a scheme rapidly expanding and far more put together than anticipated. If nothing else, Leo supposed that was a semblance of a take away, but there was certainly more that could be gleaned from the official beside him, that much he could already tell.
Harsh, grating laughter reverberated on brick and steel walls, as the man beheld the Bannerman's question. There was a little bit of life left in his dark brown eyes when he turned toward his curious onlooker, of whom had seemed transfixed by the lab. Certainly, it was different from what many people expected of a typical drug lab, but such was as he had dictated. A dirty environment and second-rate equipment produced fourth-rate drugs, and that kind of swill wasn't something worthy of being peddled by the Mikado Clan. No, indeed. Good products build a good reputation, and a good reputation attracts customers. He knew that well, and so did the Captain. And as much as that man held a dim view of Isaac, so long as he proved his expertise could be achieved at a net profit, the Captain would defer to him.
"That's not our thing, Mister Bannerman. High quality products at reasonable prices, that's why we're here. Gotta have something to distinguish us from the rest of the rabble."
The man took a singular brick of pristine, crystalline powder from the pile, and handed it over for Leo to inspect. Perhaps it was impressive yes; those crystals held their form well. But this was old stuff, salt, poppy, and everything in between. No, what he had up his sleeve was something that could disrupt the very fabric of the Trillium Chapter, if he so chose.
They'd bow before you. Before us. Do not forget your promise.
"I'm surprised that the Captain hadn't reported this to headquarters yet though. I figured the other synthesis facilities would already be adopting this model by now, especially after the last clan meeting."
Ascending the stairwell did he continue, leading the Bannerman past the facility with its synthesis labs, the dimly lit break room where a few workers were betting with cards. And through a narrow corridor scarcely two people abreast, that emptied into a circular chamber lit only by the flickering lights of incense sticks and candles. This was the sanctum of the Mikado Clan, a holy sanctuary that had been commissioned and mandated by Ernesto Mikado under threat of death. A mere facsimile of the one at headquarters, where they had all sworn the oath under bated breath. But no less important.
"And, of course, we can't forget the shrine." Isaac's visage was solemn as stone, before he turned back to address the Bannerman. A slight gesture with his hand, and the guards ended their escort, resuming their patrols downstairs.
"Forgive my manners, Mister Bannerman, but I forgot to introduce myself. Isaac Cognatia. And you are?"
Post by Reya Starlyght on Apr 1, 2020 16:37:15 GMT
Intriguing, so the Mikado Clan truly was an exception to the rule of unorganized gangs in the city, how they had managed to slip under Cardinal Enigma's fingers was a question that needed to be explored. Either the Clan had managed to evade the criminal syndicate yet somehow had caught the attention of IMG in the process, which was an unlikely scenario considering the locality of the former organization, or they had struck a deal with Cardinal Enigma. Unfortunately, the more logical answer was the one that was far more severe, for it was entirely possible the forces of two were plotting for some sort of twisted coup, plunging the capital's underworld into chaos. Then again, perhaps Leo was merely overthinking it, had missed some crucial detail. It was too early to come to such lofty conclusions, in the end.
The last clan meeting. There, an ideal target for infiltration within the so called headquarters. The trick would be finding out a date and a time, and Leo had a feeling Isaac wouldn't be particularly keen on either of those. A location, however, perhaps that was something the man knew. He could inquire for such later, indiscreetly of course for undoubtedly a man of Leo's supposed rank would not have to ask where the Clan's headquarters were. "Yes, I have a feeling that will be changing soon," Leo responded with a wink, vague enough so that he wouldn't have to guess the pronoun of the Captain nor their general demeanor, yet still appealing to the statement at hand and reassuring Isaac that his hard work would be noticed. Whether or not it actually was, that remained to be seen.
What caught his attention the most, however, was the dimly lit chamber the man led him too. It did not take him a second glance to affirm that it was some sort of center of spirituality for the... synthesis lab, and Isaac's words only served to further back that up. Truth to be told, Leo was not a religious man, for while there was certainly science and magic, divinity was only presumed from a lack of understanding of the universe and all the others that laid parallel to it. Then again, tradition was another thing altogether, perhaps that was all it was. More importantly, however, they were not in some sort of church. Apparently the Mikado Clan dabbled in cultism as well, what another fun thing to add to the list. Leo copied Isaac's deference to the shrine anyway, putting his beliefs aside for the moment.
After that particular segment of the tour concluded, the man had the mind to dismiss his guards. They were now alone, and judging by Isaac's physique he would not put up a terribly long fight were something to go amiss, however the taint of magic was also present upon him. "Elias Kristiansen. Pleased to meet you, Isaac," Leo replied with a smile. His tone was smooth, the slightest Isborn accent put on the moniker yet it was not enough to truly stand out amidst his other words.
"Elias...Elias....." Furrowed brows contorted in thought as the he shook the man's hand, a name not associated with the face that was just on the tip of his tongue. There had been a man named Elias once that he knew. But from where, begged the question. The man paced back on granite and marble, staring at those deep, cold, golden eyes. Yes. Of course. How could he have forgotten?
Elias Kristiansen. One of Sang's men. He'd been part of the new group of initiates, the ones that their respective captains had vouched for at the Shrine of Storms, far away from prying eyes. But there was something different about how he looked now, compared to when he had sworn the oath, when Isaac had last seen him during the execution of Markus Cognatia. Paler, with hair the color of fresh-fallen snow.
"Elias! You son of a bitch, it's been a while!" the man began. A guarded tone betrayed his intent, and a steady hand held tightly a length of laminated wood and steel. A rival gang member perhaps? No, if that were the case this lab would have turned into a battleground; there was no way that any of the other hoodlums, or hell, even those corporate dogs, had this much tact. Was he a cop?
"You look...different. Lemme guess. Reconstructive surgery? Skin grafting? God damn, I didn't recognize you without your acne scars..."
Who is this interloper?
He could have taken him right there. Drawn his blade and moved forward, with a quick flick of the wrist. All it took was one strike to the jugular, one quick flash of steel and it would've been over. And yet there was something primal that spoke in the back of his mind, the Tenshi's raspy chuckle, as cold as glacial ice.
You'd be dead before you took a single step. Patience.
Footsteps echoed behind the closed doors of the shrine. A great clamor erupted from downstairs, and the great doors to the shrine were flung open once more by a guard, face flush in horror and wracked with exhaustion.
"Out with it!" Isaac spat.
"The Doves...they're here."
"Condition zero, rifles!"
"Aye, sir."
A column of heavily armored ISC soldiers waited patiently as the armored car rounded the corner, followed by a convoy of patrol cars, their weapons of alloy and polymer on hand. Rare was it ever that the ISC had ever resorted to these operations, made themselves known with armored combat suits and enough firepower to level a small neighborhood. But the situation warranted it; there had been actionable intelligence that a notorious criminal syndicate in Dandelion had managed to establish an operation in Trillium, and after months of little to no leads, the address of a location had finally popped up. And with the possibility of hostile mages as a part of the security detail, the garrison spared no expense.
"Tac Team 1, ready. On my mark."
"Tac Team 2, ready."
A lumbering bear of a man donned a helmet and secured the straps together, shotgun firmly in hand. Hopefully, the sheer intimidation factor would be enough for them to raid the building without a shot fired. But that was wishful thinking.
"Breach!"
"ISC! Hands on your heads, get down on the ground, right now!"
And almost immediately did the lobby erupt in gunfire.
Post by Reya Starlyght on Apr 12, 2020 1:21:28 GMT
In retrospect he should have just used a fake name, but at least Isaac's recognition of his false moniker told Leo one thing, the Clan was tight-knit enough that such an unfortunate coincidence could even occur. He saw the man reach for what was undoubtedly his weapon, casting him an almost taunting glance. Before either of them could act upon the revelation Isaac had come to, however, the distinct sound of sirens was heard from below, followed by the stampede of footsteps as a guard barged into the shrine. By the sound outside no normal police had greeted the laboratory, no, Leo knew the distinctive echo well. "ISC," he muttered, almost a growl. That made a deal of sense, he supposed, if IMG knew about the location it was possible for the authorities to as well, but it was frustrating nonetheless. Certainly, his cover had already been blown, but there could have been other ways to salvage the operation, possibilities that would have to be saved for later.
Leo knew the man's assumption would be that he was an officer, unfortunately. He glanced over at the window, the fall was a bit too far for him to get up and fight the considerable force below. With that, he let out a sigh, turning back to Isaac. "It's Leo. I'm not with them, so if I'm caught I'll be in just as much trouble as you. What's your plan?" he asked. If he couldn't deceive his way into ringing information out of the man, perhaps assisting him would help him gain some semblance of trust. Plus, Leo's words did have some truth to them, while he could likely pull some strings to explain his innocence in such a case, his track record with the ISC and governments in general begged him try otherwise.
A staccato of gunfire rang out from below, shouts and screams following. He concentrated for a moment, recognizing by more than the raucous sounds that the force was more than a simple raid. How annoying, the ISC thought they had jurisdiction everywhere regardless of the political climate of a city. Such large encounters didn't sit well with the people of Trillium, they preferred their city of crime painted in a veneer of luxury rather than revealed before their eyes. Of course the Alliance didn't care, however, their callous disregard for delicacy in such matters was irritating at best, infuriating at worst.
"Let me rephrase that. Do you normally fight in these scenarios, or do you run? There are a lot of them."