Archangel Protocols: Revival IC

[Goldeneyes]

Warmth. Warmth and light. His vision blurred his mind still wrapped in fog, these were the first things that intruded upon Azrael's mind. After an indeterminant amount of time the muted, distorted speech of the lab techs filled his hearing. He opened his eyes. Yellowed light filled his vision, resolving into the distorted shapes of people beyond the glass walls of his cryotank. So they were bringing him back again. Hopefully this time it was for more than a check up and sampling. He hated when they did that.

He slipped back into unconsciousness for a time, allowing his mind to wander through the seemingly endless corridors of his life while his body was brought up to temperature, the superoxygenated fluid around him supporting him and nourishing him. His mind flitted from memory to memory, sometimes reliving whole scenes from his life, sometimes simply touching on the barest fragment of a moment. Sometimes the memories made no sense to him. That happened a lot. His keepers told him it was due to his minds fragmentation under the load of centuries of combat.

Images floated before his minds eye, blood, battle, death. But also other things, memories of a gentler nature. The origin of which was mostly unknown to him, mostly but not entirely. As always she entered his memories. Always her. He wondered if they'd ever allow them to both wake at the same time. Probably not. HE felt the fluid begin to drain from the tank and braced himself, knowing the shock, the sense of drowning that accompanied this rebirth as he had to expel the liquid from his lungs and begin breathing the cold sterile air of the Protocol research lab.

Coughing and gagging he spewed the thick golden liquid from his mouth, naked he sat there on the floor until he was sure his breathing was solid. Then he stood and waited for one of the techs to bring him his robe. He shrugged into it and patiently awaiting his instructions. THe tech spoke to him in a somewhat awe filled voice "Sir, the shower facilities are..."

"I know where they are, I am here for testing or for a mission? Oh and how long was I out for this time?" he cut the tech off.

"Oh, of course you do sir. Uh... you've been thawed for a mission... Briefing is in an hour, you have full base access until then Sir. Briefing will be in the main conference hall, security access level Red. The door has already been keyed for you biometrics. You were out for just under 60 years sir."

"Excellent, thank you." He replied, then turned away heading for the showers to remove the sheen of sticky goo from his flesh. HE moved through the halls unneringly. The base hadn't changed in over 700 years after all. After cleansing himself and finding a set of his normal black spidersilk shirt and trousers already waiting on him, he moved off to the cafeteria. The ice may have stopped his metabolism cold, removing his need for eating, but something about these long freezes always left him ravenous when he woke up.

He moved through the cafeteria, piling his plate with food. HE was pleased to see that there was even real meat instead of the synth meat they normally had to eat during the early decades. After piling three platters with enough food to feed several men twice his size he settled in at a table and began to consume his feast. Despite the portions he didn't eat with wild abandon, he ate properly, even primly, a tad quickly perhaps, but who could really blame him?

ooc: You may do one of several things, you may wander the base, meet up with my char, meet up with other char, or just have some exposition, I'll move us on to the briefing when it is time for that.

[Aewyn]

The noise level of the mess hall dropped noticeably as people began to stare at the green-skinned man with his ridiculous amount of food. They knew who he was from stories and rumors, but no one had expected to see him in the flesh. Azrael, one of the original seven Archangels who fought against the Corponations in the beginning. The last time he had been out of stasis, most of them hadn't even been born yet.

From across the room, Bryan eyed the Pure One for entirely different reasons. He knew this one, had encountered him a few times before. His progenitor Gabriel once remarked to him that scientists were concerned about the Pure Ones' long-term mental stability. That was centuries ago. Now they all suffered from various psychoses, with the exception of Gabriel himself. Gabriel was dead - killed in action - but his extraordinary mental focus and fortitude carried on within his gene pool. And so it was that a seemingly interminable number of years later, Bryan sat with most of his mental faculties intact, watching Azrael eat and wondering why the Protocols had decided to revive him this time.

A soft beep from his watch signalled the hour. Bryan disposed of his tray and exited the mess hall, his mind switching to other matters. Briefing for the next mission was coming up, and there was work to be done.

[Jolly Rensha]

"Jealousy. I don't think it's part of GENMEM. Well, not the part they added. Virtual immortality is certainly appealing, but it takes people to keep it that way. And when all you remember is an hour or two in a base and several hours to several days to in a couple of instances a week or more of constant attention and battle, really what worth is immortality? I suppose my jealousy could be rooted in the simple fact that the longer I survive the less I am actually alive. I could very well be kept thawed and suffer everyone's continual inability to control their state of being, and thereby amplifying it onto myself; or survive by being a block of ice, as it were, and still be in solitude.

"Though, if I chose the path of being thawed, yes I could very well indeed be rendered 'incapable of operation' and quite unemotively 'decommissioned' in a much shorter period of time. Or would I?! It has been proven in studies before the great collapse and since that solitary isolation creates insanity far quicker than any other factor alone, aside from genetics. Which brings me back to GENMEM. Not of the sort that was implanted, but rather of the one I am sprouted from. I am supposing that the envy and jealous lust for power is through him. I suppose that he was just such a man that saw an opportunity for immortality in some small way, as Noms feel about breeding. Their lineage continues.

"Indeed, I lust for power. In that sense, I pity the Nom that chose to live on forever. Beyond me, beyond my future incarnations, he will live on to eternity regretting the decision to be non-existent as long as there is war. Perhaps the grand privilege should be given him to live in the so-called World of Peace we are born to fight for. It should only be right that he see the fruit of his never-ending labor. A part of him lives on, though the protocol sterilized all genetic defect of cancers and miasms to be a nearly perfect being. Perhaps too perfect and unbalanced. I think the protocols are just too proud on a whole to admit the human body, though flawed at first thought, is perfect in it's construction. balanced to the enth degree. When those scales are tipped all sorts of Pandora's Boxes are opened.

"Just look at Deus as an example. Ugh. Abomination. I never liked him and I was only around for the last few days of it. Blew me in half, that one. Regardless, the point is this: The inner-self of the persons we are spawned from are inherently, genetically, flawed in ways the protocols can't seem to understand. No matter how 'correct' they try to make us, I don't think it will ever come to fruition. Dabbling in genetic freaks is certainly a horrid thought when they can't even replicate it from scratch. If they can't do that, they shouldn't be doing it in the first place.

"No, It isn't mutinous. Just a fact that I have ascertained. I would never fight the chains I have been given. I embrace them, rather. Because like you, I continue to lust for survival and the eventual peace of mankind through the righteous hands of the Protocols. Though, I wish every death to be my last, if only I have the comfort of knowing it to be my last. Maybe then I would understand the beauty of life and try to preserve it?"

There was a long pause after Quantas finished speaking. His eyes were closed and he lie upon his bed in such a sloth-like fashion that none would think his mind to be racing at a thousand miles per second. Such was the curse of such awareness of one's environs and the delimited time to dwell on one's place in it. Will they ice me, not knowing what to do until another time? Will they decommission me? Will I comply?

"Quantas-" A voice spoke and was interrupted.

"Longview," Quantas spoke. "I feel it suits me better. I never understood how 'How Much' in Latin defined me, as given by the Protocols. I believe it is in one of my past records."

"I can only read so fast," the voice explained. "You have a library unto your own words to sift through and I have a very limited lifetime in comparison."

"Mmm," Longview hummed in response.

"Longview," it began again. "You are a very interesting individual. I will not waste time trying to tell you what you feel-"

"Good."

"- or what you should do. Instead, I'll give you something to think about. All those memories in your brain are simply that; memories. Why live in the past, when you have such a wide future ahead? If you want to stay thawed, that is your prerogative. We can always hit the backup copy, as it were, in the samples taken when you were thawed last. It would have no memory of this event, but it most certainly would be on record. If you want to live as you think you should, within confines of Protocol laws and conditioning given to you, so be it. You have free reign to have all the foibles of a Norm. In fact. I'll guarantee to you that I can order your immediate decommissioning upon your next neural flatline or insanity, if you wish."

"Really?" Longview asked, "You'd do that?"

"Sure, why not?" the voice asked.

"You're my favorite psychiatrist by far. Usually they tell me what I can't do, or go into describing what emotions I'm have. I know what they are. Hey, if you want to know why I picked Longview as a name, it isn't because I snipe. It's convenient. Just listen to the song. You have a lot of time on your hands over the decades and beyond."

"That's great, but I've got five more of you to do a psych eval for before the day. I'm no GELF, I need sleep and food."

"Oh..." Longview replied, almost melancholy. "Okay."

"No worries. You passed the psych eval. Mostly. You have a briefing in... nearly an hour. Shouldn't be a problem for someone who sits in a sandstorm for hours," the intercom said.

"It's actually harder than you think," Quantas replied. "Where and such?"

"It's in the main conference hall, level Red, Longview. Hope to be speaking with you for a while. You're one of the fun ones. I don't think I'll have have to decline service too for quite a while."

"I'll probably outlive my fourth psychiatrist, youngin'."

There was a slight click and the intercom was dead. Another mission... Egh. I hope I'm not alone. I've been alone too long. His stomach grumbled, signaling the inevitable and universal truth that any life form must consume something to continue being a living thing. A few minutes later found him in the mess, seeing an old face. There were many like it but one that was unmistakable. Azreal. He could feel the anxious, uneasy energy seething beneath the surface. "The Beast" was awakened. It had been a while. He hadn't served in conjunction with Azreal in longer than a decade, but he'd seen him around from time to time.

From the looks of the food around him, he'd be there for a while. Quantas smirked and got in line for his food. Shortly afterward, he made his way to the Humanimal that was Azreal and stood across from him at the table. "Do you mind if I sit?" After a brief moment, Quantas snorted and began to sit. "Of course you don't. It's always good to see an old face, eh?" Quantas smiled and chuckled.

[Mireldeyn]

The first thing that they remembered as they woke was Apollyon speaking. <You insane woman! Get UP! They have thawed you, and all you can do is sleep. I would kick your a$$ if I didn't exist in your head only.>

Abaddon forced her eyes opened, and realized that the worst of the thawing was over--the choking sensation, the itchiness of her nerves reactivating, the rawness of the throat. Apollyon must've moved them over to the table where they lay at that moment.

It was saddening to Abaddon that Apollyon was gaining so much control recently. Maybe it was because they hadn't been on any missions for over 150 years, or maybe because their mind was finally starting to break. She didn't know the answer to that, but she did know that she was never going to tell those...trainees what her problems were. Only Dimitri would find out, and only if he talked to her. In person.

A white coat, one of the scientists that had been assigned to Abaddon after the supposed 'death' of Dimitri, must've been watching her vitals from the next room, as she came in briskly, setting a pile of clothing on a chair next to the cryotank. Stretching, Abaddon brought their body up to a sitting position, just noticing that there was only a blanket over her naked figure. She let the blanket fall and turned to look at the scientist, bemused by the expression that the female white coat had on her face upon seeing Abaddon's bare, unscarred back. "Here is your usual clothing, Abaddon. You won't need any body armor yet unless you planned on going to the sims to test your reactions after the latest thaw. You also have a briefing in an hour on red level, the main conference hall. Be sure to get something to eat, or your metabolism will start eating your muscle tissues. Enjoy your time awake." The woman inclined her head to Abaddon, then left through the door at her back.

Standing up, they stretched, enjoying the feeling of their muscles pulling on their lean frame. She picked up her undergarments, then the black pants made out of some new material. She would have to ask around to see what it was. Next went the black tank that hugged her frame like a second skin, making it easy for her to maneuver and move around. Sighing, she looked at the panel next to the door. She still had 50 minutes to get to the briefing, so she would eat, then practice, then shower...again.

Walking down the hall, she felt Apollyon working through their memories, seeing if there was anything missing like there was the last time that they woke. <...Abaddon, I cannot seem to remember his name...> Apollyon said with intense emotion that was uncharacteristic of her normal personality. Abaddon accessed the memory that Apollyon was looking at, and was taken aback. <I don't know...and, somehow...that makes me sad. I remember his green skin...his touch and his smile...but what is his name...? Why does it bother us that we cannot remember his name...?>

They walked on for a bit, puzzling over the memory. It wasn't long before they reached the mess hall, deep in silent conversation with one another.

The place was quieter than she remembered, as several faces turned to look at her, express their shock, then to look at another...it was the green-skinned man from her memories! She could ask who he was!

The line passed quickly, and when it was her turn she was given her ultimate favorite meal: fried cockroaches, grasshoppers, and chocolate covered crickets. The aroma of the fried insects made her mouth water. When she was handed a second plate consisting of beef, pork, and corn, she about handed it back. Then, much to her annoyance, Apollyon said, <YOU might enjoy the crunchy things, but *I* want to eat animals. Sorry, but you ARE taking that plate, or I will take it for you.>

Grumbling, she took the plate. As she did, she turned to the person behind her, and said, "Hey, can you tell me the name of the man with the green skin? I remember him, but his name escapes me."

The man glanced up at her, looked down, then did a double take. "Abaddon! Er, uh, yea, I can tell you who he is. He is a Pure One like you, and his name is Azreal. You two used to work together a lot, back when it was just your team of Pure Ones, and even after the First and Second generations were created you always worked together. Until, one mission was blown because one of you, I don't remember which, was put in danger, and the other screwed up the mission by going and rescuing the body."

Abaddon nodded, understanding flitting through her mind. <That's when you were born, isn't it Apollyon?>

Apollyon snorted mentally. <No. I was born after that. But it was one of the catalysts...it conceived me, but I wasn't aware of myself, and you weren't aware of me.>

Nodding her thanks to the man, she took her two heaping plates over to the table, eyes following her where ever she went. She felt a familiar yet strange emotion sweep over her as she approached Azreal, and sat next to him. "Fancy seeing you awake, Azreal. I think that our superiors are getting lax in their ways, don't you think? After having so many years of us being apart."

[Asvarlindae]

"Beep-Beep"

Kindle looked at her left arm, and allowed the noisy panel to project a calendar in front of her...

-----------------------------
Type: Mission Briefing -
Where: Main Conference Hall -
Time Start In: 00:29:59 -
Length: Unknown -
Attendees: Non-released -
S.A.L: Red -
-----------------------------

Kindle chuckled to herself, amused at how fast word gets around when there's another mission to be had. "They must have figured out I finished my upgrade implants yesterday, heh."

She stood in front of a mirror, wondering how many and who would be there. Compared to the Pure's and the GELF's, a cyborg like her was always treated as the rookie...and she honestly didn't think that would change if she lived to see 50 years worth of missions instead of just 2. "Remember, you are active, you are fresh, you are up to date, you know the people you are fighting for."

'Still', she thought, 'maybe she shouldn't march into the briefing room trying to look like a small demon escaped from hell, as that didn't seem to go over well last time.' Reliving the memory, a chuckle escaped as she thought about the look on Arrson's face when she demonstrated her 'capability on the battlefield' right there in the STI ((Structural & Tactical Integrity room)).

"Beep-Beep"

This time she didn't bother with a screen, she knew only had 20 minutes left. She put on her wig, brushed out the pigtails, and applied lotion to the few parts of her body that weren't mecha. Pushing all her neon clothes to the side she found the outfit she was looking for "I think the maroon jumpsuit will be the most appropriate".

With 13 minutes left, she grabbed a power bar and bolted out of her room.

Five steps out of her room, she remembered the "Length: Unknown", and went back in... her pockets 2 power bars heavier, she was now finally en route to the conference room.

[Masraik]

It tingles... Where am I this time? Masraik does what feels like sitting up and falls face forward. Grasping blindly to steady himself his vision begins to clear, to lose the reddish tinge and glazed aftereffect. He looks down at his hand to come to understand why he tingles. Watching as the gashes across his hand close up, he removes a piece of stone fragment from his forearm.

"Anything?" He hears over the intercom. Plopping himself back into a sitting position, he remembers where he is.

"Not a damn thing, and it seems like this new formula only let me get more out of control than usual." He blurts as he continues to pull what seems to be shrapnel from his shin.

"We would have let you go further, but it seems you've been requested... to join the originals. Your briefing is in two hours. That should give you plenty of time to give a report, heal, shower, and eat."

Staggering to his feet, he shouts "I don't need to give you a damn report! Weren't you watching the whole thing! It's obvious that you are still a failure and incapable of creating a formula that well let me retain my memories! And explosives? Really?" he exclaims as he jerks another piece of shrapnel form his foot. "Two hours wouldn't be near enough time had one of these hit me head on, and you know that."

"You managed" said the voice before it cut out. As if on queue, he heard a door slide open in the distance.

"I swear, next you'll have me testing these new formulas on the field instead of your 'controlled rooms'." Standing up straight, he walked in the direction that he thought the door was in. The room was completely different from when he went in, knowing full well that this destruction was his doing, but still fighting desperately to remember a shred of what had happened.

As he made it to the door, he shoved past the white coat that stood in his way with a clipboard. "I said, do the report yourself." Continuing down the hall to the long deserved shower he thought to himself "Why do they always make these test expeditions take so long? My abilities never change... one week of self sustaining combat, just to test me on thirty minutes of berserking? Its a total waste of time." he told himself.

After taking his long deserved shower, and double checking for any more shrapnel or concrete, he got out to find himself a new pair of his favorite tactical gear. "Ah the things I do for clean clothes" Looking up at all the cameras in his quarters he thought about what that worthless human had said '... the originals' Silently contemplating the implications of this had him on edge. For the most part, him and a few less than qualified could handle anything that needed to be done. But all of the originals? He wasn't sure if the tension in his body was from excitement at finally getting to interact with his ancestors, or from realizing again that he was being watched. He threw his soap at the camera hard enough to make it stay.

His stomach growled as he made is way to the mess hall. He laughed to himself, it was definitely left a mess after every time they made him berserk. Extremely accelerated metabolism mixed with a need to replenish himself after healing made for quite a few empty plates. It didn't hurt that he was by no means a small person.

He froze when he entered, immediately pinpointing the table with two of the originals. He only knew them by description. He was created only 53 years ago, and although it may have been a long 53 years, they were oh so much older. They may not be as experienced with the newer technologies, but they were definitely not someone even he would bother to upset. After a moment he realized there were a couple anxious people behind him, and he was blocking the entire entrance to the hall. After moving along to gather two trays of well balanced food, he sat to himself in a corner, staring as little as possible while trying to gauge everything he could about the original Pure Ones.

[Goldeneyes]

ooc: Hey Renny, unless by "over a decade" you meant 60+ years you couldn't have worked with me that recently, Azrael has been on ice that long. And sorry for the cold shoulder in the following post ;)

IC:
Azrael continued eating at a steady pace, feeling the food adding to his energy levels, even as his photosynthetic skin began the process of turning light into sugar, pulling some of the CO2 out of his blood before he can exhale it. He of course heard the GELF approaching him, he heard him speak, but even as he did so a familiar scent wafted through the cafeteria, finding its way improbably through the myriad scents of cooking and food and humanity and filling Azrael's mind. It was delicate as a flower, unique as a snowflake, and completely, unmistakeably, hers.

It hit him like a thunderbolt, obliterating the presence of the GELF from his mind. His words registered vaguely on Azrael's consciousness, but his senses were focused entirely on Abbadon. When he heard her quietly asking what his name was a pain seared through him as hotly as a bullet. But he knew why she had to ask, he knew what it was to forget even those most precious of memories. He forgave her instantly, knowing that so long as she never forgot him in truth he could survive any amount of memory loss.

He nodded absently to the GELF sitting beside him now, his eyes glued to the form of Abbaddon as she approached. Finally she sat, and greeted him. He allowed his eyes to drink her in for a moment, and then replied "Indeed. If they woke us both up, they are either getting lax, or there is a true emergency. Where is your briefing at? I'm in The main conference room, Red level. If I don't miss my guess that's where you are going as well."

[Asvarlindae]

ooc: GE said i could retcon to stop by the cafeteria

ic: "Beep-Beep"

Kindle sighs, "Still time to spare...and those power bars weren't filling at all". Since she is close to the caeteria, she decides to swing by for a sandwich.

As hungry as she was, Kindle couldn't help but notice off to the side alone, was a Pure One she'd seen a couple times already, and 2 Pure One's, Old-Ones, and a GELF at a table. One of the two, was just sitting down. "I wonder what's going on there..."

As she turned her attention to the food line, her enhanced hearing picked up the phrase "main conference hall". Her chest, the human part of it, began to tighten from excitement...'could I be working with THEM?'

She focuses on getting her sandwich, and decided to find out for sure. It took an effort to get her breathing back to a normal rhythm as she approached their table..."So, we all seem to be going to the same briefing", she glanced up quick at the GELF, unsure if he was included.

Kindle doesn't make a motion to sit and join them, but she shifts her weight to her left side as she plans on talking.

[Mireldeyn]

Abaddon smiled, and said, "Yes, actually. Hmm...and i don't think that our creators progeny are stupid enough, really, to put us together for no reason..." She trailed off, sensing that Apollyon was thinking as well.

Just then, a cyborg came over and said, "So, we all seem to be going to the same briefing," then just stood there.

Abaddon nodded to her, and then said, "Well, Azra, looks like it is the latter. Oh, joy...it's been so long since another emergency situation occurred. Just like old times, right?" She took a bite of the crunchy fried insects, savoring the taste and texture of them as the oils washed her tongue in delight. She sighed with pleasure at the taste, her eyes rolling back slightly. "It's been too long since I had real food...how I have missed it."

[Jolly Rensha]

It took a moment after sitting down to feel another presence of a time long passed enter. It was obvious that Azreal noticed it sooner than he, but he had quite the myriad of enhanced senses that Longview certainly couldn't understand how to deal with. In other words, he was used to that sort of behavior. Azreal started his reply to Abbaddon, revealing his ultimate destination to be the very same briefing as Longview's. An eyebrow pricked and he nodded while he chewed a little slower. "Interesting. So I'm not working alone. That's a change from the past few years..." he mumbled to no one in particular.

Suddenly a tiny little thing pranced to the table all panicky. Rather, reeking, of anxiety. It made Quantas' heart flutter a moment, pouring over onto his own psyche. Oh the woes of being an Empath, he inwardly complained. "So, we all seem to be going to the same briefing," she squeaked ever so cutely. The Cybie expected a reply and to be included on a conversation. Taking a brief glance at the two Pureé Ones told him they were going to be dead to the world and that it would take nuclear weapons jolting them out of gaga-land to get to the briefing on time. He didn't need to be an empath to know that. Perhaps just a tad bit of history though. Longview was not intimate with either, but he did know the story. It isn't like it hasn't SORT OF happened to him, falling for a co-worker in the middle of a war zone.

Quantas held a finger to the Cybie to wait a moment and grabbed his plate. Promptly he stood and cleared his throat. "Let's leave old friends to catch up with each other. They've been on ice for a while; I think they're still a little frosty on the edges yet..." Walking beside the cybie he asked. "So, then. What is it you do little-Ms.-metal? If you don't ask my minding." Longview grinned and motioned for an open table. "You're just buzzing with innocent anxiety, so I have to ask. How long have you been at this?"

[Masraik]

"Intriguing" he thinks to himself. Two pure ones with a deeper than usual understanding of each other, an unfamiliar possible GELF, and the oh so familiar and bubbly Kindle. "Just what kind of party are we looking at here..."

Ah Kindle, the ever bubbly energy machine of incessant action. Although occasionally too much to bear when when trying to relax, the cyborg is definitely useful. Accurate in her back-line cover, capable in self defense, and most importantly, capable in tactics beyond any other "lower" being he's interacted with. This other one though. I don't recognize this remake. He seems a bit edgy and shifty, as if he's hyped up on adrenaline one too many times before combat.

The other two, guessing from their descriptions, are Abaddon and Azrael. They seem sluggish in their actions, most likely from being awoken from a long sleep. Unable to empathize with the feeling, for never having been so subdued, he feels a twinge of guilt for considering them to have a weakness. What must it feel like to have your life frozen away, memories involuntarily erased, as you're brought back over and over. Oh wait... not much different from being shoved in a hole all the time, waiting for a mission to get out of the incessant formula testing. At least now, its beef flavored and edible instead of the original formula that would leave a gapping hole in my flesh where I injected it...

His thoughts interrupted as he notices the unfamiliar element stand and motion for Kindle to follow, Masraik makes a beckoning motion for them to come join him. Not able to tell if he was noticed or ignored in his actions, he continues eating on acute watch.

[Matthias3690]

Echoes trailed each other, shoving constantly into his ears. Blackness filled his sight, obscurring any motion from anything that made those noises he was hearing. Fighting the tightness of his eyelids, he forced his eyes open. Blurred shadows and figures watched him, speaking in a garbled tongue unfamiliar to his ears. He shook his head slightly, slowly regaining the ability to see clearly. Shortly after his vision returned, the rest of his senses came flooding back...including the hunger. 'Hopefully not just another test run.' He thought as memories followed the lead of his senses, flooding back in an intense rush.

It took him roughly 15 minutes to fully gather himself; he'd been out a descent amount of time this sleep session. The liquid in his tank slowly started to drain...his mind prepared his body for the shock he was about to feel. The water emptied as did his lungs. Spewing the liquid out of his mouth, he recoiled and vomited the liquid out several times before the natural air began to be breathed in easily. Standing up, his eyes glanced around the room at the several scientists. "What's this wake-up for?" He asked casually...feeling a slight draft. His eyes wandering down, he remembered the nakedness. Before he could ask a set of his usual clothes were presented to him.

"Mission, sir. A few others were awakened with you. You've got...24 minutes until briefing in red level of the main conference room." The female scientist spoke after handing him his clothes.

Smiling "Thanks." He quickly put the clothing on before heading out, walking straight for the cafeteria. He was out for another couple decade sleep and the hunger was proof. Striding into the cafeteria, he grabbed a tray and 4 plates. Piling each plate full with foods of all sorts he headed towards the table, spotting a pair of individuals he slightly remembered. The green skinned man and the woman with him. 'Why do they look so familiar?' Shortly after asking himself another memory announced it's awakening in his head. Smiling he whispered. "Abaddon and Azrael...long time since I've seen them."

He walked over to their table and placed his tray across from them. Nodding at them and smiling gently "Hello again. You guys wouldn't happen to be being briefed in the red level of the main conference room would you?" Asking as he began eating his second plate, having eaten the first on the walk over.

[Goldeneyes]

ooc: To All my vets, forget anything you think you know about enemies from previous iterations (IE cypods, abominations, anything like that) as far as we are concerned most Corponation units are human and poorly equiped, they have only numbers to aid them. The most we ever really have to face is old pre collapse tech that they have scavenged or managed to reverse engineer.

IC:
Azrael nodded his agreement as he continued his way through his own pile of food. "Your insects and you... I've never understood the appeal, I mean they have good protien concentrations, and the flavor and texture are fine, but the obsession with eating them... heh." He noticed as the cyborg came, he was begining to get annoyed, normally he would have accepted the crowd he and any other Pure one would draw, let alone two of the Original seven, but at this time he would far rather be allowed to enjoy a single meal in peace with the woman he hadn't seen in over a century.

Even if most of the time had been on ice, he still felt the vast gulf of time between their last meeting and now, as if somehow, even locked in his own personal glacier, the ponderous grinding of time had still worn away at him. Luckily the GELF stood and motioned led her away. Azrael would remember that. He followed them with his eyes briefly, thankful.

He was about to continue his conversation with Abbadon when another GELF, one of her "descendants" by his smell, decided to join them. Azrael nearly growled.if they were a human couple only the brashest of boors would intrude right now... but because they were special somehow courtesy was allowed to go flying out the window. Well, HE could still be courteous, if not friendly. "We are."

He turned back to Abbaddon, and without realizing it finished his last plate. looking down at his empty plates he sighed. "I suppose I really shouldn't go back for seconds just yet. Perhaps after the briefing. This looks like it might be a big one though, at least 5 of us on this mission, and with two of them being us... I wonder what we're looking at..." Something struggled in his mind, a name trying to come to the surface, but after a brief moment of searching, it faded back into obscurity, sinking into the endless depths of his mind. "Last time a group like this was sent into combat was for... for... I don't know who. It was important though. Maybe we're finally gonna raid the North American Executive enclave. That'd be a fight to remember. When's the last time we fought a group of enemies armed with more than rusted out assault rifles and suicide explosives?"

[Mireldeyn]

For once, even Abaddon felt a spark of true irritation flit across her emotions, and therefore her face. It wasn't just because the new GELF had come over right after the others had finally gone away (and whom she had promptly ignored, as was her personality), but also because, as she looked down at her plate, she realized that all of her crunchy goodies had been eaten. Turning to look at Azrael, she said, "To comment on what you said earlier, I think that thier appeal is part of my genetic design. That's the only thign that I, personally, can think of."

She pushed the empty plate aside, and pulled over the one that had the various other forms of food on it. "Now, for your latter comment, I have no idea. Things are a bit hazy if you go back any further than...well, probably about 180 years. I think that they woke me up a little more often than you, so my memories have faded a little more, but...I seem to recall that the last time we were teamed together was about...oh, Hell..." Abaddon not to gently slammed her fork down on the table, causing several more startled expressions and heads to turn. "I can see images of it, but I don't remember when, let alone that person's name. And I haven't taken part in a raid in ages. I hope you're right." She smiled at him, and promptly finished the second plate of food, then waited for Azrael to finish so they could join one another to go up to the briefing room.

[Matthias3690]

Having finished his third plate of food, he looked up for once since having sat down and noticed that he was the only other one at their table anymore. Abaddon's expression told why. They were apparently not entirely thrilled at the attention and he could've smacked himself for being that stupid...but being frozen for a couple decades leaves your people skills a little lax. Nodding to them he spoke "See you up in the briefing room."

He ate and finished his 4th plate on the walk to dispose of the tray and plates. Heading towards the halls to make his way up to the briefing room, he glanced at a clock quickly.
"10 minutes until briefing" He spoke softly. Shaking his head slightly 'Wonder what they're going to use all of us for this time.' He thought to himself as he made his way up into the briefing room, taking a seat at the oval table in the center of the room.