???? For the first time in two thousand years, the light of the sun illuminates the great chamber, a thousand stone faces carved into the walls and buried under brush, turning to face the entrance, as a figure enters, their shape silouetted against the harsh light from outside. Deep below, amidst green flame, lies a body, withered and decrepit, little more than a corpse lying on the cold stone floor. Were anyone there to observe, the corpse wouldn't seem like much, just a long dead figure to be ignored, or bagged up. No, only the most astute might notice the mummified woman's lips move upwards into a smirk. It's time. Oh, how I'm going to enjoy this... -------------------------------------------------------- @Auraicide Paris, France Lounging comfortably on the leather armchair, beautiful face illuminated by the grey light of the television, Katherine smirks as she sees her handiwork. On the screen is the Musee De Cluny, France's premier museum of mediaeval art, walls covered with piece after piece of priceless art from the middle ages. Well, besides one part of the wall, which stands conspicuously empty. Well, empty, if one ignores the butterfly emblem spray painted onto the wall. "Le voleur, connu de la police et de la presse sous le nom de Papillon violet-" A French journalist speaks to the camera, describing the daring heist, before turning to face a well dressed man in his early thirties. Katherine notes that he's unlike the last few cops to fruitlessly hunt her. This one is young and elegant, rather than the old and rough looking veterans she's used to. "And now," the journalist effortlessly switches to English, "we speak with the new Interpol agent assigned with catching this criminal, Detective Constable Edward Grey." She holds up the microphone to the agent, who proceeds to speak in an elegant English accent, pausing every few moments to let the journalist translate for the French viewers. "Thank you. As you can see, this criminal, who calls herself the 'Violet Butterfly', is brazen, and not without skill." He gives a charming smirk. "But, as you can also see, she's arrogant, and a braggart, and those types always slip up eventually. To the public, and to this would-be female Arsene Lupin, if she's watching, I swear that she will soon be apprehended, and the items she's stolen returned to their rightful owners." Katherine's concentration is broken as she hears a knock behind her, turning to face the beautiful woman whose home Katherine is currently sitting here, Amadee, dressed for some sort of event. "Heh, having fun watching them talk about your exploits? I used to do the same thing, back in the day. It gets boring if they never catch you, though." She gives a chuckle, and Katherine is reminded that the socialite in front of her was once the greatest cat burglar in Europe, though now she's settled for the life of a fence, buying and selling stolen items, like the one Katherine just acquired at the museum. "I've got a buyer lined up for the amulet you pinched, but..." She pauses, as though unsure of whether she wants to keep going. "There's another job that's come up. A big one. A client wants a few pieces snatched, that apparently lead to a bigger haul. A treasure hunt, you could call it." ----------------------------------------------------- @moonblack Lesbos, Greece Miriam is in two minds about her new archaeology job. On the one hand, the Mediterranean island of Lesbos is the very definition of beauty, and, as Miriam has discovered on her nights out on the town in Mytilene, lives up to its ancient reputation for 'female love' - Miriam has found in the ever present tourist population a neverending supply of beauties to dominate. On the other hand, though, her job isn't quite what she imagined it would be. Despite the fact that she stays mere minutes from several thousand year old Greek ruins, and only hours away from immeasurably more ancient cities of the Middle East, Miriam's life isn't the one of exploration and discovery that she thought it'd be. Actually, she doesn't explore, or discover. Due to her junior status as an archaeologist, Miriam's existence has been a tedious haze of staying cooped up in a small office without an air conditioner, cataloguing the finds of other, more successful, researchers. "You know, there's an opening at the bank, if you want. I have some friends who could get you in. You'd have to work hard, obviously, but it might be more rewarding than your current...ahem...job." Across the world, through a video call, Miriam's mother tries her best not to undermine her daughter's chosen career path, though her lack of regard for such an unprofitable profession as archaeology leaks through. Miriam can't help but feel that her parents have always viewed her choice of profession as a 'stage', though they try to be supportive, in their own way. "Anyway, I have a meeting to get to, dear. Shoot me an email if you decide to do something more... Something else." Abruptly, the video call ends, and Miriam is left alone in the office, all the other archaeologists out on digs. A few hours later, the young woman hears the sound of heels on the wooden steps, and knows her boss has returned. "Hey, Miriam! Keeping up the good work?" Kind hearted, sweet, and deeply passionate about history, Dr Melinda Reed eagerly took to the role of becoming Miriam's mentor in the field, teaching her extensive knowledge of the trade. She's got a tendency to be...airheaded, at times, leading to Miriam sometimes having to stop her from blundering into danger, but she knows that the woman is intelligent, with an encyclopedic knowledge of her field. Melinda tries to keep her poise, but her bubbly personality leaks through, and it's obvious that she's got news. "Mmh... I did some digging, after you brought up the City of Set." She ums and aws about how to break the news, before finally she can no longer contain herself. "I got permits!" She grins. "A contact of mine pointed me to a site in Sicily, where Queen Anai might have found a ship to escape the Romans, and I got us both permits to go explore! The ruins have barely been touched by explorers or the locals, for some reason, so they're virgin territory. What about it, want to help me raid a tomb?" She holds out a hand. ----------------------------------------------------------- @majus Coventry, England Beatrice had barely left the plane, when they'd buzzed her. It had started inconspicuously, a bit of vibration here, a shock to her clit there, but the milf teacher's captors weren't nearly satisfied with that. Hands on the controls to the vibrators inside her pussy, Beatrice's 'students' had nearly brought her to orgasm in the middle of London's busiest airport. "Is everything alright?" Layla, one of Beatrice's students, and a rising member in the cult, had asked, not even hiding the way she fiddled with the vibrator's controls on her phone as she asked the question. Layla, Beatrice identified quickly, was the biggest problem of the group of 5 cultist archaeology students accompanying Beatrice on her mission. Unlike the boys, who were muscular and brutish, taking what they wanted when they felt like it, Layla was more intelligent, and far more devious, something that Beatrice's experience leads to more inventive forms of torture than what the brutes could come up with. "Let's go, teach. Ain't got all day." Layla's brother Bennett had said, gripping the teacher and pulling her up towards the buses. Hours later, the bus pulls up to a ruin a few miles from Coventry. Beatrice shivers as she remembers the punishment her masters had given her after she suggested they search in England for clues to the City of Set. "I guess you ain't all you're cracked up to be, whore." Her master had taunted as he fucked her. "The City is in Egypt. What the hell are you gonna find in England? Dumb broad. Maybe it's time to finally sell you off..." She'd persisted, though, with dedication she hasn't felt since the cult first made her their bitch, knowing that if they could find the body of Gregoire De Moulay, a crusader who'd fought in the holy land, they'd find the clues to the lost city's location. She knows she'll find answers. And she just has to make sure the students don't dispose of her before she finds them. "C'mon, teach, lead the way." Layla gives Beatrice's ass a playful swat, pushing her in the direction of the ruined cathedral. --------------------------------------------------------- (Alright, I need to go to bed, so I'll make the rest of the introductory posts tomorrow. Tell me if you have issues/questions/concerns. Oh, and character creation is still open, btw, so don't worry if your character isn't up yet, you can join in whenever.)
“Thank you for the offer, mother, I will... think about it.” Translation: Thanks, but no, thanks, I'll pass, but I don't want to be rude about it. Miriam had a hard time not rolling her eyes at her mother's latest attempt to get her to change jobs. Her parents meant well, but by now they really should have gotten the hint that Miriam was not interested in a new job – even if her current one was less than satisfactory. Miriam sighed and shook her head at the abrupt end of the call. “Sure, talk to you later, mom.” She sighed again before getting back to her boring-ass job. Hopefully something good would happen to break the monotony... “Welcome back, boss!” Miriam smiled happily, always happy to see the busty woman. “Anything I can help you with?” “Really? That's awesome!” Quickly getting up from her chair Miriam moved to where Melinda was standing and took the offered hand in her own, visibly excited. “Of course! I'd love to help you, boss!” Finally, something other than boring desk work! “When are we leaving? Will it be just us, or will anyone else come along?” She would definitely prefer the former over the latter. “Any recommendations for what I should bring along?” She asked her questions in quick succession, before catching herself. “Oops, sorry about the rush of questions, boss, I got a little too excited there.”
"Ah, but what is life without excitement?" Katherine sat back, the smile on her face making it clear she was unconcerned about yet another person stepping up to the challenge. "I'm more concerned about the resources of our law enforcement. We have serial killers, drug dealers, and domestic abuse, left and right, yet, they'd rather spend their time chasing me to safe a few things for a museum where they will just sit there until someone steals them again, anyway. Thus, it is only proper etiquette that if they wish to play, I answer. A performance was asked of me, and a performance must be made." In all likelihood, had the media and police just quit feeding her the attention and notoriety, she would have most likely gotten bored and quit years ago. But there was always someone who for better or worse wanted to play the game, and kept it all going. "Sounds interesting. The profit is of minimal concern to me, but this seems like the thing to see if this Mister Gray really can live up to his promises. Unfortunately, I have no plans to make it easy for him."
{What a great start!} As the vibrators rocked inside her, bringing her close to orgasm, Beatrice leaned against the wall, as her body shook with excitement. To both, her relief and frustration, the vibrations ended before she could achieve climax. As she looked down, she saw a few drops of her sex juices on the floor. "Is everything alright?" Beatrice looked up, at her 'student'. "Y-yes, Layla." She swallowed, as her voice wavered. Her body shivered as she saw the blond toying with her tone. She was not sure if in a moment her vibrators would come to life again... and Layla knew what she was thinking. Already, the entire flight, the young woman tormented her with the vibrator. "Let's go, teach. Ain't got all day." Bennett said, as he grabbed Beatrice's and pulled her to the bus stop. The woman walked next to her student, her heels clicking as she walked with a certain step - a certainty she did not feel. She sat next to the window and the bus started. She looked through the window - it would take a few hours of travel before they arrived at the place. A cold shiver went through her body at mare memory of her master's disbelieve and rage at her suggestion to start the search in England. She dreaded being sold to any of the cult's clients - the stories she heard about those people... She crossed her arms under her bust, hugging herself. Her body shivered again, but this time with excitement, as she remembered master's dick penetrating her, as he lashed on her verbally, humiliating her, threatened her... she bit her lip, as a moan of excitement threatened to escape her. Even after she managed to explain why she wanted to start in England, she was not spared the punishment - she was chained to one of the stalls in the basement where she was sexually used for hours... Beatrice groaned as she felt the vibrator start again. Guess, she would not be allowed to rest during the bus ride. It took them another couple of hours to finally arrive at the remnants of the old Cathedral - the place Beatrice was sure she would find the clue that will point her in the right direction. The body of crusader Gregoire De Moulay was buried here - she was sure of that. She would find the treasure and please her master. Slap! "!" A moan escaped Beatrice as she felt a smack on her ass. "C'mon, teach, lead the way." Layla said in good humour. Beatrice nodded and started walking around the building searching for the entrance. The walls were whole, despite the sorry state of the building. The nearest village was about ten kilometres away from this place, so they should be undisturbed. It took them a few moments, but they finally found the door. They needed to lockpick the padlock to get in. Beatrice looked around in wonder - the rooftop was in a sorry state, but the majority of inferior survived. Yes, she should be able to find here- "Done." She turned to see one of the men locking the door behind. "We will not be disturbed here." "Good." Bennett said and turned to look at the MILF with a cruel smirk, that made Beatrice shiver. "So, how will you entertain us?" Beatrice swallowed. She needed to somehow convince her students not to dispose of her - she was a step from finding a clue! Coming to a decision, she allowed her decision to fall on the ground. "Well, I thought that you might enjoy a visual stimulation~" She said as she removed her shirt. One of the boys whistled with appreciation. "Naked in a cathedral." He chuckled. Beatrice unbuttoned her skirt and allowed it to slide on the ground. Now, wearing only stockings, garter belt, high heels and choker, she stepped out of her clothes. She shivered lightly as the cold air caressed her skin - England was not known for warm weather. "Looks good." Lyana said as she stepped up to her. "But we should add something to make it even more interesting." With a smirk, she stepped behind the professor and locked her wrists in handcuffs behind Beatrice's back. "But! I won't be able to~ ah!" The protest died on her lips, as Lyana slid her fingers into the teacher's pussy and started fingering her. The MILF put her legs apart with a click of her heels, allowing the blond better access. "You seem to be mistaken here, bitch." Bennett said as he stepped up to professor Thorn. He grabbed her throat and squeezed it, choking her lightly. "This is what will happen. You have time until eight o'clock to look around, that means you have three hours - then we are going to have some fun with you." "Agh~" Beatrice whimpered as Bennett grabbed her breast and started squeezing it. "In the morning we will be leaving. And if you fail to find anything, we will be leaving without you." "Yh~" Beatrice moaned as the man squeezed her throat, her body shivered with pleasure, her hips continued bucking as the fingers continued penetrating her. They would go through with their threat, she knew it. But at this moment, she could only think about fingers in her pussy and a hand toying with her tit and the other one squeezing her throat. She was given instructions, and she would do her best to carry them out. "Understood bitch?" Bennett asked. "Yes-s, sir." The sex slave answered lustfully. Suddenly Layla twisted her fingers, touching Beatrice's weak spot, finally giving her an orgasm - one she was denied for so long. Hours of teasing she experienced in the plane and on the bus, finally came crashing on her, as her body finally experienced release. "UGh!" Beatrice arched with an orgasmic scream as she started squirting... Her eyes rolled back as she fell to the ground, her body twitching from pleasure. ... Beatrice blinked and opened her eyes. She shivered from cold, as she slowly got to her feet. Some dust attached itself to her skin and clothes. She looked around and realised that some time has passed - the students managed to already set the camp, the sun was setting... "Look, the cow is up." One of the students laughed. "Better hurry up! You already lost an hour sleeping. Beatrice cursed, as she looked around - with her arms in bondage, it will be hard to check everything, and it was slowly getting dark... The clicking of her heels resounded in the building as she walked to the wall, and started checking the names on the tombs...
@Omega98 Istanbul, Turkey Finally, Kelly had reached the final page, and it had led her here. For weeks, she'd been following her husband's journals, deciphering hastily scribbled notes and travelling the globe, recreating her husband's search for the lost city. Now, in an ancient Byzantine palace, Kelly arrives at the last spot mentioned in the journal, seeing the artwork on the walls poorly sketched in the small notebook, beneath a phrase translated from mediaeval Greek: Beneath the father, all men are equal. Max scribbled the phrase down multiple times, and the lines leading to and from the words indicate that clearly, there's some significance to the words, some connection to the ancient art on the walls, something Max found. Kelly just has to figure out what. "Hey, Ms Hanson, all good?" Kelly's stirred from her pondering as Ben steps up beside her, giving a whistle of appreciation that echoes across the chamber. "So this is the last place your husband found, right?" Ben, a recently graduated student of Kelly's, had insisted that he come along when she mentioned her trip and its purpose. If your husband went missing, the trip could be dangerous. It'd be wrong of me not to help keep a lady safe, especially a beautiful one. He'd smirked, and not budged an inch, until eventually she'd agreed to let him come with her. "14th Century Eastern Roman architecture, with the eagle of House Komnenos, remarkably well preserved... Interesting. I'd say this palace belonged to a member of the Komnene, trying to overthrow the Palaiologoi emperors... But it has nothing to do with Egypt, or Queen Anai." Bast examines the room with a studied eye. "I wonder what the connection could have been? Maybe there was no connection. Max always did have a tendency to get bored and go do something else." The dark skinned beauty chuckles to herself. Bast had been a research partner of Max's in university, though the two of them had a bad falling out, the details of which Max only spoke of in vague terms. It had been a surprise when she'd shown up, looking for information about Max's disappearance, and a greater surprise still when she'd volunteered herself to join the ad hoc 'expedition' to find the lost archaeologist. Still, she's undoubtedly been of use, her experience in the field obvious as she helped unearth clues at the earlier sites, invaluable since Max's notes weren't exactly thorough, the man intending them only for his own use. "Still, maybe we're missing something. I'm going to search some of the other rooms." She heads off. "A bit stuck up, isn't she?" Ben chuckles. "Not like you, miss, that's what I always liked about you. Well, one of the things." Kelly feels the young man eyeing her up. "But she's probably right. This is a big place, and the answers might not all be in the same room. I'll go and check things out as well. But call out if you need anything, anything at all." With a final smile, the young man leaves Kelly to ponder her husband's last clue. Alone with nothing but her thoughts to occupy her, Kelly doesn't notice the steps from behind her until the last moment. Jumping, she turns around, to spot the elderly, overweight security guard she bribed to let her investigate the archaeological site without a permit. "Hey there." The man leers. "Turns out, my boss made a surprise inspection today, and saw you on the security feeds. He's giving me trouble, so it's going to be an extra thousand dollars US if you want to keep looking around here." Kelly can't help but frown. Her income as a teacher isn't the best in the world, and she's already spent a lot globe hopping from site to site mentioned in her husband's journals. A thousand dollars is going to hurt her wallet badly.
@Daylan Dallas, USA Dylan was starting to get pissed. Sitting at the side of a tennis court, he fiddles with his gear satchel, as the heiress continues to play and ignore him. By this point, he's beyond certain that she's making him wait intentionally, to piss him off, make him act like an idiot, or maybe just out of a sadistic desire to see the young occultist melt under the hot Texan sun. Whatever the reason, Dylan's patience is wearing thin. Finally, the heiress finishes her game, wiping sweat from her brow as an elderly butler approaches with a tray of chilled drinks. The old man had to walk quite a way from the luxurious mansion down to the tennis court nestled on the heiress' estate, but he does so without complaint. "Mmmh, good stuff." The young woman smiles as she takes a sip, finally deigning to approach Dylan. "Sorry 'bout making you wait, buddy." The heiress says in an exaggerated Texan drawl, as she signals the butler to offer Dylan a cool drink as well. "I don't like to miss practice. So, let's talk shop. You want to borrow my little doohickey? The amulet of that Anai chick, right? And you're saying if you do, it'll lead you to treasure..." She looks at him quizzically. "I dunno, I like the amulet. I think it really brings my collection together, y'know?" Dylan's search had been going so well. One find led to another, and another, before finally he'd discovered his prize in Morroco. A decoding device, Dylan knows that if used with a certain amulet of Anai, it will lead him closer to the City of Set. Sadly, the amulet in question is owned by the woman before him, the daughter of an oil baron, and a collector of ancient artifacts. Without the amulet, the decoder is sadly useless. "Treasure sounds nice, but look around, hun." The young woman gestures to the massive private estate, and the mansion in the distance. "I ain't exactly in desperate need of more cash, and you ain't exactly the most legit researcher in the world. So tell me, why should I let you borrow my artifact?" Despite her words, Dylan realises that she's negotiating, trying to get a good deal. Of course, if he doesn't want to negotiate, there are other ways to acquire another person's property...
"That's Mrs. Hanson Ben." Kelly corrected the young man, not for the first time. His constant addressing her as 'Ms.' brought up uncomfortable thoughts she was unwilling to confront. If she was 'Ms. Hanson', then Max was dead. And that was not an idea she was willing to even contemplate. She thumbed her wedding ring, something she found herself doing often nowadays, to reassure herself that Max was indeed still alive. It was irrational, but it kept her sane. She had always found Ben to have a good-nature though and she tried to keep her exasperation out of her voice. Though the company of her companions had been welcome at times, when it came down to working, Kelly preferred to be left alone. She let her mind focus on the phrase scribbled over and over again in her husband's journal and the thought struck her to perhaps inspect the mural on the ceiling, but was interrupted by the guard. 'Crap!' she thought to herself, cursing her luck. What few funds she had remaining she'd need to ration; so rather than cough up money she couldn't afford to spend, Kelly offered the security guard her sweetest smile. "Oh! I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid I'm unable to part with anymore cash. We're not going to disturb anything, and we'll be as quick as we can! You've been so helpful to us already, wouldn't you like to help us out just a little bit more?"
@asddas193 Kabukicho, Japan Walking under the gate to Tokyo's biggest and most famous red-light district, Mori is struck, as he always is, by how vibrant his new home is. Despite attempts by the government to gentrify the area, the area is filled with people who defy polite society. Tourists, barflies, barkers chasing people down to try and snag a customer for one of the many hostess clubs and soaplands packed into such a tiny area. And, waiting therein, out of sight of the tourists, are men like Mori. Yakuza, con men and street thugs, all ready to make a buck. Not tonight, though, at least not for Mori. Instead, he takes a turn, heading to the largest and finest club in the district, the property of Kabukicho's most powerful yakuza, Satoshi Kaneda. Heading inside, Mori sees the decadent luxury of such an establishment, beautiful hostesses, expensive champagne, and high class businessmen looking for seedy entertainment. "Mori. You're late." A gruff voice says. "Get upstairs." An experienced thug eyes the smuggler down, as if daring him to try something, before gesturing to the stairs. Upstairs, Mori finds the boss' office, filled with lieutenants, though old man Kaneda is absent. "Eh, fat boy! Finally decided to show up, eh?" The gangsters chuckle, as Kaneda's top lieutenant arrives, staring Mori down. "To be honest, I don't know what the oyabun wants with a fatty like you." He slaps Mori's stomach for emphasis, and his men laugh again. "If he wants a job done, he should just send his boys." The lieutenant is smiling mockingly, but Mori sees something in the man's eyes that suggest that the guy would like nothing more than to cut his throat. "Are you done?" A female voice says disdainfully to the lieutenant, and looking down, Mori sees Kaneda's daughter, getting her tattoo retouched by an old artist. "My father's in the next room. He's with some girls, but he's in a good mood, so don't worry about bothering him." Having given her directions, she looks away from Mori, no longer interested in him. Following the woman's directions, Mori enters into a bedroom, faced with a lewd image, though not one he's unprepared for. "Eh, Mori!" The old man smiles, as the two women pleasure him. "Come in, come in. Close the door, you're bringing in the cold." Kaneda's tastes change constantly, moving from college girls to debt ridden milfs, to hardened assassins, etc. Tonight, evidently, he's in the mood for some more professional company, it seems. Either way, his tastes change, but his appetites don't. From what Mori has heard, the old man gets headaches if he doesn't have at least one woman a day. "So, like I was saying on the phone, I've got a job for you, a big one." Kaneda smiles. "Big enough to have you set for life, and for me to expand the business globally. You interested in Ancient Egypt at all? If you aren't, you should be." He chuckles. "There's a lost city, a treasure trove, I just need someone talented who can track it down. You in?" Though he asked the question, the old man doesn't wait for a response. "Now, I know this ain't really your area of expertise, but you'll have some help. Look in the drawer and open the file you find. Oh, that's good." He moans at the women, pointing at a bedside table for Mori to rummage through. Inside, he finds a manila envelope, and within - a file. Spoiler: Helga Nilsson - Swedish national, - Currently enrolled in archaeological studies at Tokyo University, top of her class. - Valedictorian and co-chair of the Tokyo U Historical Society. - Daughter of Swedish ambassador to Japan, Magnus Nilsson. Other accomplishments include: - Former Tokyo U debate team captain. - Current Tokyo U cheerleading team captain. Residence: - Upscale apartment in a gated district Habits: - Exercises regularly, going for runs every morning - Volunteers at a local soup kitchen on weekends - Spends a lot of time in antique shops "Nice, right?" Kaneda gives a lewd smirk. "She's an expert on Queen Anai and this lost city, and my people report that she's just come back from a dig with information that could lead us to the prize. Normally, I'd send a few guys over to her to make her tell us everything she knows, and probably shoot a video too, but sadly she's the daughter of an ambassador, and I don't want the family involved with something like that. That's why I'm going to an independent like you. Find out what she knows, get her information, and find my treasure."
@Regin34 Hamadan Province, Iran "Go go go!" Natasha has only a few moments to admire her handiwork as the oil refinery explodes. Just another day, just another mission. As the Iranian soldiers recover, beginning to fire at the woman who just planted a bomb in their territory, Natasha's commander and the rest of the squad open fire, saving her from a bullet in the back. The bearded man, gruffly known as Sarge, uses his light machine gun, the report booming across the sands. After a tense firefight and chase, Natasha and her squad have disappeared into the Iranian mountains. "Good work, everyone. We're going to march overland to the exfil site, and get out of the country. Further combat is to be avoided at all costs." Georgio, the team leader says, at the makeshift camp Natasha's unit have set up. "Hey." Sonya, the team medic, sits down next to Natasha. "You took a scratch earlier, probably some shrapnel. Let me take care of it." Pointing to a gash on Natasha's arm that the soldier didn't even notice she had, the medic gets to work, bandaging the small wound. "Nat." Georgio says, approaching. "Orders have just come in from high command. You're not leaving with the rest of us." He sighs regretfully. "Command wants you to head south, to some ancient tomb called Naqshq-e Rostam. They need you to find clues pointing to the location of something they call the 'City of Set.' We have an agent among the Iranians who'll help you with that, a researcher. Use the codephrase 'Iron and Copper' to identify yourself." Showing her his tablet, she sees a picture of the agent. "Here." He hands her a bag. "Civilian clothes, and a fake identity making you seem like a historian." "Now." Georgio sighs. "I can only send one person with you, otherwise you'll attract too much attention. Either Sarge, or Sonya." Natasha thinks to herself. Sarge's physical strength and skill with a gun would definitely be useful if the mission goes bad. Sonya, however, is a far better trained medic than Natasha or Sarge, though, and can potentially save Natasha from a life saving injury. (Sorry if that wasn't well written.)
Dylan was not a man with a lot of nerves and this rich bitch was already almost on his last one. The heat was not too much of an issue, though he was visibly sweating at this point, and he tried to not TOO angrily snatch a drink from the offered tray. His grab was still notably stiff and aggressive though, his glare locked purely on the heiress instead of the butler. It was possible she was playing him, or it was possible she was just as much the shallow airhead she presented as. Either way, he stayed silent for the moment as he let her continue her ramble. Because, for a rich asshole like yourself, what you already have is never enough was what he WANTED to say but he bit down on that line of thought for now. "I could say 'bragging rights'," he said instead, "Since one item from an ancient empress may not mean much, but to have the majority of her one-of-a-kind collection in your possession is something you could rub a lot of faces in. Especially since a lot of it is said to be ancient jewelry you could wear to big social functions and show off." He paused to take a sip of his drink before adding, "But what if some of the items she possessed in her time could offer you things far more valuable than money and prestige? It was said that some of Anai's artifacts allowed her to remain beautiful far beyond what the natural effects of time would allow, and able to make both men and women kneel to her desires with but a single suggestion. Even if they had hated her with all their hearts up to the very moment she spoke. Quite the weapon to have against anyone who implies you aren't smart enough to deserve the money you have. And just because of how you talk, no less." He was playing to her vanity, remembering a recent spat that had been chronicled in a few gossip rags that had been instigated by some New York shipping industry heiress with fake floppy tits and a liposuctioned micro-ass. And he was not lying, as those were things said to be within Queen Anai's abilities, so if he had the right read on her it would be a tempting carrot to offer. "And all I'm asking," he added, "is just a little time with one amulet that is barely a drop in the bucket of your collection. Quite a small price to pay for that kind of power, isn't it?"
"Heh, no need to apologise." Melinda happily shakes her underling's hand. "We'll be leaving soon. We have to, these permits simply don't last all that long. We can maybe see about hiring a team, but I was planning for us to go in alone. The site doesn't seem big, and it's geologically stable. If necessary, we could see about hiring a local team when we're over there." Melinda rushes through her answers, quite obviously eager to be starting. "As for what to bring, this is a standard dig, so stand equipment should be all we need. Like the crew, we can get more if we need to while we're over there." Melinda gives an excited little jump, not noticing her breasts bouncing as she does so. "I haven't been on a dig in years! Thanks for talking me into this, Miriam. It was the push I needed."
Heading inside the Yakuza joint, Mori had a confident smile on his face. He knows that he's one of the best at what he does, and as long as someone in his line of work wanted something, they couldn't risk killing him off just yet. But, he also wasn't stupid, so he bows his head to all the right people, just lkke the oyabun's daughter, just before he heads inside the room with the man himself. Mori bows to him, smiling as he attentively listened to the old man's job offer. "Oh?" The smuggler cooed, smiling as he saw his target. "Sounds like a big job alright. Any idea what I have to nab? Also, anything specific you want me to do to this gaijin?" He asked, licking his lips as he planned how he'll extract the information he needed.
"Oh, I assure you," Amadee smirks, "This will prove to be a good test of your skills." Taking the TV remote, she changes the channel, and suddenly the news disappears, replaced by a still image of a mansion, followed by the blueprints of said mansion. "This is a country chateau a few miles south of where we currently are." Amadee explained. "It's owned by two figures." She presses two buttons, and the screen shows photos of two well dressed people. "Henri Fointainbleau, the billionaire industrialist in charge of Fointainbleau Corporation. And," "Maria Fontainbleau, his wife, and the VP of the company. There's also been some talk that she's linked to the mafia, though it's never been proven." Amadee gives a knowing smirk, before changing the channel again to show an image of a stone tablet, engraved with hieroglyphics, about the size of Katherine's chest. "The Fontainbleau's are holding a grand gala at their chateau to celebrate making another hundred billion dollars. They'll be taking their immense collection of antiquities out of their guarded vault, and putting them on display for the guests to see. The tablet is part of that collection, and it's what I'm sending you to steal. Security is heavy, both electronic surveillance, and hired mafia goons with automatic weapons. So, think you can do this?" Amadee raises an eyebrow.
Spoiler: Perception Roll D100: 33 (Fail) Moving around the stone cathedral, she looks for the crypts, and finds that, luckily, the door has collapsed, so she won't have to try and get it open. Navigating the crypts, however, she has less success. Here amongst the cold stone tombs, light can't reach, and though Beatrice has her phone, her bound hands make effectively illuminating anything difficult. Looking at the old carved names, she fails to find Gregoire's anywhere, as time begins to run out. "Tick tock... Tick tock..." Layla's voice echoes down into the crypt, mockingly. Spoiler: Traps Roll D100: 67+10 (Traps Skill)= 77 (Pass) If it's any consolation, she at least manages to spot several traps attached to some of the tomb doors, that would likely send a grave robber falling to their death. She's safe from that, at least.
Listening intently, Katherine weighed the risks before drawing a conclusion. "Is it too early to already have a plan in mind?" "I'll need a fake identity card and some paperwork. A place like this must have a large working staff. Getting a job as a maid to keep it clean wouldn't be difficult. It would give me time to do some scouting and do a little bit of "creative" maintenance their security system before the main act. Of course, that's not all I have in mind, but it would certainly be a way to get a look….some light poisons would also be useful. I feel some of the staff could be sent home early." As grandoise as her heists were, a lot of planning and preparation still had to go into them. Her only real issue with her idea was that she didn't enjoy situations where she couldn't be the legendary master thief, but sometimes, swallowing one's pride was necessary. At least for a time.
"Right, sorry Mrs Hanson." Ben sighs. "I'll leave you to work on this." He walks away. Spoiler: Perception Roll D100: 100 (Crit) Ben seems rather agitated at calling her 'mrs'. In fact, the young man seems outright jealous, though he tries to hide it. Spoiler: Persuasion Roll D100: 17+20 (Charm)=37 (Fail) The guard doesn't seem swayed by Kelly's smile. In fact, it seems to anger him outright, as his face shifts into a snarl. "You think I'm an idiot, bitch? Some hick who'll do whatever you say just because you flash a smile?" The man's ugly expression shifts to show that he's taken offence. "One. Thousand. Dollars. Or I bring the police in to arrest you for tresspassing. You ever been in a Turkish jail?" He grins wickedly. "There is a way you can keep looking for free, though..." His hands slip around her waist, pulling the strawberry blonde against him, fat stomach pressing against her fit one, with a fat bulge lower down pressing against her legs. "You can get on your knees for me."
Natasha hold her teeth as Sonya take care of her wound, happy that bullet missed bone and vital organs. "Thank you Sonya." She said and after that, follow the rest of her squad. When commander give her orders, Natasha was unsure what to say. Her knowledge about history is pretty basic, she know about Egypt, Greece and Roman enough to get some idea, but it is common knowledge. "Yes Sir. But did we have know anything more about this city? And when I have to leave?" She asked as she was given civilian clothes and fake identity. Natasha take a look at her document and new outfit. She will have go inside tent to change herself, to awoid eyes of comrades. "I will take Sonya with me, sir." She said.
Spoiler: Persuasion Roll D100: 77-10 (Antisocial)=67 (Pass) "Hmmm..." She wrinkles her nose for a bit, before nodding. "I suppose that is worth letting you borrow something for a bit. Please, follow me to the house." Inside the luxurious mansion, a butler hands Dylan the amulet, a small gold disk inscribed with ancient text. Spoiler: Occult Roll D100: 14+10 (Apocryphal Knowledge)=24 (Fail) Looking at it, Dylan isn't able to translate the text. Spoiler: Traps Roll D100: 77 (Pass) Luckily, though, he'd inspected his decoder thoroughly enough to know that there are spikes hidden inside the device. Looking at the amulet, he spots notches that would activate the spikes, impaling the hand of a person who was holding the decoder. The decoder can still be used, but only carefully, without placing your hands on the rim.
"She has some stone...ugh...tablets." Kaneda groans as one of the girls begins deep throating him. "Plus, some notes, I'd bet." Hand on the woman's head, he guides her on his cock. "As for what to do with her - whatever you want. Trick her into working with you willingly, kidnap her, torture her, sell her, I don't care. Whatever you do, make sure my name is never mentioned, though." He gives a glare that warns of what will happen.
"Of course not. I'd never tell a professional how to do her job." Amadee gives a kindly smile. "I can get you the paperwork you need. In my experience, galas like this require temporary staff to be hired, so a maid plan is viable. Poison shouldn't be hard to obtain, either."
