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Deadly Catastrophic destruction. -Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.Deadly Catastrophic destruction. -Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.Land isolated, remained protected from the rest of the country-dealing with a zombie assault on Pittsburgh , Pennsylvania, where a feudal like government exists. The survivors have fled to the city. The city is protected on three sides by three rivers and on the other by an electric barricade.Some time ago, a catastrophe destroyed much of human civilization. The recently dead, for an unknown reason, had returned to life and took the lives of the living. These "stenches" multiplied rapidly by adding to their ranks with every new victim. Several years later, the dead greatly outnumber the living. Many of the living in the vicinity have fled to the city of Pittsburgh , Pennsylvania, where a feudal-like government has taken hold.　Bordered on three sides by a three rivers and on the other by an electric barricade, the city has become a sanctuary against the undead threat. "Fiddler's Green", the center of this city, is where the rich and powerful live in luxury while the rest of the population in the city lives in poverty. Gen. Paul Kaufman rules the city with a fucken iron fist and overwhelming firepower.Gen. Kaufman financed the construction of Dead Reckoning, a heavily armored vehicle that can venture out into the world of the dead with relative ease. Armed with remote-controlled external heavy machine guns and video cameras to spot zombies on the sides, Dead Reckoning primarily functions as a moving fireworkds display base: zombies are fascinated by fireworks, and just like humans, will stare gaping at them while ignoring the humans moving through the streets around them. Unlike Gen. Kaufman, Denbo is respected by the citizens of the city for his work in protecting them from danger, as well as bringing them critical food and medical supplies, things which they can no longer acquire for themselves. This is the purpose of the "Dead Reckoning," and the teams that accompany it.  Music Playlist at MixPod.com---------------------------Black Ops A.Secondary BI Subdivision Computron Tech. Corporation reem'd Co-Op's ordeal production. Advanced networking development and IT communications company, combined voice, data, video, and wireless communications on a secre IP platform is transforming the way the world communicates--it's primarily sourceful in purpose usage and gain trust in the Military services, CIA-FBI offical and unoffical Secret Ops divisions' unheard about in the society's acknowledgement. Serves this Company provides expands providance to what it creates. Much remains unspoken--due to it's dark usage into the privare forces accessed for Black Ops, an' all of it's base-camps staked in original locations. --Location A is main base camp for Black Ops aka Covert Ops, or Special Forces Team {S.W.A.T}. Great Basin, Nevada described as your typical military landscape, extended wide-spread out grands, underground hidden passages underneath solid grounds-'Our missionaries work around the clock, without quit.' Jason's heavy dominant feel, slushed stomped through mucky sewer waters' contaminating inner ground tunnels. Sanctioned by steel black worker boots-black camaflauge pants' roughly-claimed snaked from around his broaden waist. Narrowing down each pant's until over lap his boots-mud spatters paint the material covering his knees. Loud engine sounds aggressively echoed above ground level whil'st Stryker vehicles zoom by--some vast speed other's crept. Steed rumbling reflected in sound barriers within the barcades. Sweat accumulated sheer layers unrestrictable claimed over his muscular upper-torso-exposed due to the only material warn is a black muscle shirt. Silver metal chains hung down freely, centered ontop middle core of his moistened bared shirt. Hidden Glock. .32 snuck underneath his left pant's leg. Each clipped to the back of his black belt, easily connected to other data -strategically able to interact through micro chips, wireless pieces."-Bourne, Shit a repeat of Raccoon City happened...again. In Pittsburgh." General Mills. called a secondary catastrophic even outbreak, destroyed much of it's humanity. Identical to that of Raccoon City. Many of the living in the vicinity have fled to the city of Pittsburgh, where a feudal-like government has taken hold. Bordered on three sides by a three rivers and on the other by electric barricade, the city has become a sanctuary against the undead threat. --------------------------Meanwhile.Welcome To an Identical Raccoon City!...."I'm cursed! Yes, that's what it is. I'm cursed by these damn outbreaks all over the world, happening and being covered up by the Government and the oh so famous Umbrella Corporation, who has lost a lot of millions of dollars trying to keep their bio-organic weapons on the low side. Specially, their zombie outbreaks. Stupid corporations, stupid Viruses..."Second Floor, Mark was already checking out room number 203. Three rooms already had been inspected and nothing was out of the oridinary. He continue to walk exploring ready to shoot anything that move. Where was their back up? They should be arriving soon, he told himself trying to ease the tension around his shoulders and stress. How did he ever get into this Job anyways? It all started six years ago after losing his wife and kids to one of those small out breaks in a small town located in Texas, no one gives a damn about deserted Towns...Mark shook his head as he walk inside a baby crib. This baby crib still had the toy singing this sweet soft lullaby. "Fuck..." there were babies running around here infected? How fucked up was that? Really fucked up if you ask me. This had to stop, who ever was causing this viral out break will soon get what's coming to them even if that's the last thing Mark ever did in his life! Swallowing hard, he heard a noise behind him. Heavy breathing following by the crack that the wooden floor made beneath him. The gas Mask made it difficult to see. Therefore, he slowly, oh so slowly turn around and was in shock when he saw a woman in her late thirties cover in blood. "ma'am, we're here to help you" Mark said softly but it was too late. Ammo flew out his weapon in matter of seconds. The woman's body collapse on the ground making a loud tumbling thud. "Mission Aborted! Mission Aborted!" Mark panics as he recall seeing his dead wife dying in the hands of his 10year old son. Two little babies were dead on the sofa, half eaten! It was too much to take.Jill heard the voice of Mark and quickly rose her head up and saw two shadows running down the stairs. Was it her comrades or zombies? Hard to tell, shadows cover the two person's running down the stairs. In matter of a blink of an eye, they roll down the stairs and blood splatter all over the wall. "Jill, let's get the hell out of here! This isn't your ordinary out break---!" That's all Mark manage to say as a zombie-creature like attacked him from behind and began eating the flesh from his neck ripping out flesh while blood oozes down the zombie's mouth! Jill quickly began to shoot it's direction / Both Mark and the Zombie roll down the stairs dead. Terrified, she ran over to her comrade to help him but he was already gone. "J.J. !!!! EVERYONE!?!?!??! Where are you GUYS! WHERE ?" She took off her Gas mask, and her blond hair was in a pony tail but some small strands of her hair got in her eyes. "LUKE!!?? ROBERT!?!?!??!?!" There was no sign of anyone else being alive...It was a long way down to the Lobby area. Would she make it out alive? Would any remaining survivors make it out alive from this Horror Corrupt Town of the dead? Or would back up arrive soon? She looked up and only saw darkness. Her body felt weak but at the same time strong. Darkness surrounded her. The flashlight on her weapon was turned off that way she didn't cause too much attention to herself. She saw some light coming from under a door? Should she go in or wait where she stands?The stairs to the lobby weren't ' far from where she was however, she couldn't tell because it was dark. What to do? Jill aim her weapon and turn on the flashlight ready to kill anything that came her way, without hesitation/ She looked emotionless and cold, but this is how you get once you have been through this before.　In another Corner of the City...Denbo discovered that the man he got a car from, Chihuaha is responsible for the car's disappearance. Denbo then discovers Chihuahua trying to feed Slack, a hooker to zombies. Angered at this Riley, and Charlie save Slack and kill the man Riley was to get his car from so he could travel out of the Green. The three are soon arrested and taken to jail, where Slack reveals she was to be killed by zombies on Kaufman's orders, because she is actually an agent for Mulligan. Mulligan is an Irishman who once worked with Riley, but now has turned against Kaufman's class society and is tryign to gather rebels among the poor. Part of his anger may be that he has no way, aside from Riley's supplies, to gain antibiotics for his infirm son.Meanwhile, Cholo DeMora the second in comman of the Dead Reckoning team, having turned down by Kaufman from buying an apartment in Fiddler's Green has gone renegade. Having his dreams shattered by Kaufman - for whom he has been secretly employed (among his tasks the disposal of the corpses of Kaufman's murdered enemies) - Cholo is out to even the score. He threatens to destroy Fiddler's Green with the Dead Reckoning, which he manages to hijack the vehicle, along with Pretty Boy, Mouse, Anchor, and Foxy who all believe in his cause. His threat stands unless his demands are met. Zombies attack as he is leaving, but Cholo doesn't care and orders his crew to drive away without intervening, Kaufman turns to Riley to stop Cholo from exacting his revenge. He is assigned three other officers, Manolete , Motown and Pillsbury , all of whom work for Kaufman and provide escort. After Manolete is bitten, Riley interrogates the other two, making his position quite clear to them. He has a tracking device, so that he knows where to find the "Dead Reckoning." They get there, and wait. He goes only with Charlie, leaving the other three behind. Motown wants to stop him, but Pillsbury betrays her and knocks her out, then gives Slack safe escort to follow Riley. When Riley finally catches Cholo, he is very nearly killed by him, while the crew caught in the crossfire, including Slack who moves for Riley's defense. Motown arrives, and is attacked by a zombie. Her death provides a distraction, so Riley shuts down Dead Reckoning's ability to use its weapons. With that, Riley convinces him to allow him to take Dead Reckoning and leave the city to head north. Cholo elects to take the Woody, an old GM station wagon with out a roof, and to go west, Foxy decides to go with him, however shortly after this Cholo is bitten by a zombie. Cholo leaves for the city, wanting to finish off Kauffman, Foxy takes the Woody and drives him to the entrance, before heading to Cleveland. During this , Riley and his crew then notice fires in the city and head back to try and save the city.Meanwhile, zombies seem to have resumed aspects of their past lives: a former brass band blows ineffectively on their aging horns, a cheerleader carries her pompoms, a dead couple walk hand-in-hand. A leader has risen among their ranks; "Big Daddy" a former gas station owner who continues to amble out to the pumps ever time a fellow zombie causes the bell to ring, takes center stage as the leader of the undead. Unusually aware and intelligent, Big daddy directs some of his fellow zombies to use firearms and overcome the more rudimentary human defenses. The zombies are beginning to learn, adapt, and even communicate with primitive moans and grunts. In retaliation for the constant raids carried out by Dead Reckoning, Big Daddy ultimately leads the zombies in a massive assault on the human city when he realizes that the zombies can simply walk on the bottom of the riverbed underneath the water to reach the humans. The center of the carnage takes place at Fiddler's Green. Kaufman witnesses his kingdom coming to pieces before his very eyes as the zombies overcome the humans in a bloody massacre. As the zombies overtake the city, the humans discover that the electric fence defenses previously used to keep the zombies out have now become a wall to keep them in.　-----------Black Ops Arrives. - back up.Black Stryker vehicles stampeed rapidly down abandoned and blood painted woods, leading towards the bordered City. A city now in the slumps, in which now deteriorated by an notorious identical deadly toxin spill-that had occurred nearly decades ago. 'Raccoon City, right? A city in the United States. This time ultimately became this one---and its outlying areas house several bionengineering laboratories belonging to the Umbrella Corporation and Kaufman's Fiddler's Green. These laboratories conducted by Scientists who developed viruses that can mutate humans and animals into zombie-like creatures. One of the laboratories, still reamins 'the Hive.' , it is located underneath the city's grounds and is the producer of the G-Virus. These Viruses are the plot devices driving the story behind the games, sabotage an security failures have unleashed these viruses and infected creatures, humans throughout the proximitiy an' a vial threat to spread an entire country.'Fucking imagine-predictions stand correct on traces and logical evidence leading on Judgment Day, proceeds? Threatens Our Continent? It's said first target is California-then we have armies of deadly robots aka machines and toxic consumed zombies ruling over the fucking world. Black Ops has it's share of abnormal assignments slab they are enforced to take on an get it done, until the end. No matter who or what is left through this'. -Effectively Jason narrowed his semi-dark brows, sophisticatedly his ocean blue hues remained settled in determined mode on the destructed city-before him. Combusted, deteriorated, blood splatter painted each crack, stone , dust of dirt as the plains had surrendered to it's evil spill to the sharded grounds. Scent steamed venging death as a dominant aroma-a turmoil fume-as though earth's natural cleansing was permanently destroyed. Creak immediately forged a command in sync control as a Black Blazer's brakes were haulted. Inches from steel electrical fences-bordering off from the rest of the Country, by the government's military forces.　Specialize gas masks for them to keep from breathing the deadly toxins facading the City and it's residense, corrupted by the posion or not. Loaded in each of these Military trucks, that were already driving through were equipped. Boxes filled with artilery guns, carronade, howitzer, tank gun. Autocannon: chain gun, gatling gun, minigun, mitraileuse, grenade launcher machine gun, squad automatic weapon. Pleanty of handguns, to go around for extra backup, like a few captive bolt pistol, hand cannon, machine pistol, howdah pistol, revolver, arquesbus, bunderbuss, few sniper rifles, combat shot guns, submachine guns, the works.Stryker vehicle A slammed on it's breaks, permitting three men to jump out of the back. Prepared as explained prior, intact standard procedures heading out with their weapons to begin clearing out the devestation. Keeping alert for any innocent standbys who weren't corrupted by the virus...yet. Max is the last to jump out of this truck, steel boats hit the ground. He wasn't human not even damn close-vampire roughly 300 years old. Mexican descendent , he was use to these sorts of mission, hell no it wasn't his first choice. Shit blowing shit up always gets blood boiling. "Aight' amigo' we've entered through thee East Expo ditch. Four men are on procedure to guard the survillance gates back up. Others are already out on da' hunt , see you round partner." Max's apparent hispanic accent, returned a heads up.A walkie-talkie, he clipped back on to his belt around his waist. He disgusted scrunched his brows-the stench smell worse the vomit and shit mixed. It's ten time worse when ya' a bein' of enhanced sense. "Son'a biotch. LET"S get this shit cleared out. Show these magot bitoches' who's boss!" He bellows out, commanding a few men he had surrounding the truck. Shadows swamped through a nearby alley way. Groans, growls increased as a steed of zombies come chumping away at their teeth. Flesh torn off their faces, stomachs gutted out, blood spattered on brick walls. Max's expression? 'fuck this' cocked squad automatic weapon, it swallowed the bullets injected. Targetting each meat head, bullets spit through the barrel rapidly. Lodging through their head's causing them to explode and brain matter scatters it's trace everywhere.Meanwhile....On the otherside of the city an abandoned building had seemingly undergone a deadly threat. While Jill was inside downstairs, stricken in a state of coldness. Frozen perhaps in fear of unsure what to do? Discretely as an increasing, rumbling sound only massive vehicles conduct is heard. Rapidly it's superior engine sound approachs and WHAM! Concrete beams, shreds of a wall combusted forcefully inward, steel gutter of a Stryker Military truck's front end was aggressively collashed through the buildings' wall. 　　Dust swamps a massive cloud of dirt accumulated of this head on collision crash. A sheer metal sound is heard echoing from an abrupt left of the truck, it's driver's side door is kicked open. Jason's manly feet, protected by thick steel boats on each one, hit the pile of rubble. Wrapped around his male broad waist, is a weaponary belt,-black and shielded combat shot guns were attached. Brutually revolved his entire attention on two zombies, instantly cocked his concealed firearm. Amo is fired and darted through the short space an' longed in their dead heads. Aggressively their heads exploded while the bullets combusted inside each brain. Both zombies struggled and jolt before landed to the ground. Vaguely breathing,-whil'st intentional drenal blood rush kicked in. Jason's mascular chest faintly moves, at the same time his normal breathes are short lived. Lowering his gun to his side, both hands were shielded by black gloves. Immediately injecting the gun face down back into his belt, meanwhile at the same time rushed to the blonde's side. From what he could briefly observe is 'Jill Valentine' the Chief had mentioned to him, in brief detail. Agt. Bourne had his own priorities of researching specific individual on his own. 'his own mysterious tricks' however it remained sealed as a prime aspect of his demeanor shadowed about him. "Come on, lets get you the hell out of here. We've got enough vehicles, providing a sancuatized spot to hide if needed." He had a strong, dominant-masculin voice. Deep dominant tone-a natural sound he couldn't help it-a hint of alluring mysterious-head strong persona, illuminated his presence. Yet he remained calm, for Jill so she would be afraid. He gesturely nodded in a secure direction to get her out of this building, towards the trucks only opening. Armed with remote-controlled external heavy machine guns and video cameras to detect footage of zombies.　.............Let the hunt continue......The strategic weapons to destroy it's deadly inhabitants are furnished an' stored secretly somewhere inside. Although what's unknown of the restricted weapons, carried in the bounds of his Blazer's trunk---and BlackOps' , discrete Jeeps "Stryker Vehicles." - No survivors are discovered or seen in it's ruins, although traces of the T- and G- viruses can be uncovered. As a result, the city is declared a restricted area and a biological hazard. An infrastructure largely funded by the Government. Similar to the Hive existing as a secret underground laboratory under the city. Housing more than 500 employees, the facility has an artificial intelligence, the Red Queen, controlling it's security . Similar to Skynet which in fact is also controlled by artificial intelligence. The theft and deliberate release of the T-Virus starts the chain of events depicted in the beginning of the cities now horror. The Hive has been reopened, by an unknown devious figure working undercover for the Intelligence department. Infected creatures spread out of the re-opened Hive into Los Angeles placed the city under quarantine. The city is nearly destroyed, visitors might want to beware, never know what is lurking the streets of LA. Once you get it, you might not be able to ever leave.Four black camoflauge jeeps spit dust beneath their black tires, as they vastly arrived. Parked on each side of Jason's Black Blazer-- the other team vehicles thrusted through another entrance of the city. Steel front ends of Stryker vehicles smashed in through the guarded fences. Shattered through piles of rubble, shards of glass their war tires forced over. Back up inside them-were dressed in Black Ops uniforms, consumed in black identical to those of space uniforms .A Jill Valentine curses under her breath as she took each step. Getting closer to a door. It had been over thirty minutes since they were allowed to enter the building which was sealed from all directions, the only way out was through the main doors they had entered.Difficult task at this moment, there was no going back. "Jill , check this room and I'll take the second floor, J.J. takes the lobby and The rest take the other floors above." Mark whispered among his comrads as each took their own steps towards their destination. Jill wasn't sure how she would react when she saw anything out of the oridinary or resemble zombies. Would she shoot em? Most definitely. No hesitation at all. Depending on who she was shooting . As she slowly opened the door knob, Her mask that help breath clean air. Made it harder to see at a 180 degrees angle. Looking inside the small living room ,she look away disgusted by a body that lay on the ground. There was a blood puddle surrounding the old lady's body. Her stomach apparently was dug into and her insides were ripped out. Gagging, Jill continue to walk inside as she pass the living room, she notice the stove was on. Which meant that the older woman was attacked recently.Turning off the kitchen stove, Jill kept her guard up. The small flashlight at the end of her gun's barrier illuminated enough to see. Nothing out of the ordinary..Dust swamps a massive cloud of dirt accumulated of this head on collision crash. A sheer metal sound is heard echoing from an abrupt left of the truck, it's driver's side door is kicked open. Jason's manly feet, protected by thick steel boats on each one, hit the pile of rubble. Wrapped around his male broad waist, is a weaponary belt,-black and shielded combat shot guns were attached. Brutually revolved his entire attention on two zombies, instantly cocked his concealed firearm. Amo is fired and darted through the short space an' longed in their dead heads.Aggressively their heads exploded while the bullets combusted inside each brain. Both zombies struggled and jolt before landed to the ground. Vaguely breathing,-whil'st intentional drenal blood rush kicked in. Jason's mascular chest faintly moves, at the same time his normal breathes are short lived. Lowering his gun to his side, both hands were shielded by black gloves. Immediately injecting the gun face down back into his belt, meanwhile at the same time rushed to the blonde's side. From what he could briefly observe is 'Jill Valentine' the Chief had mentioned to him, in brief detail. Agt. Bourne had his own priorities of researching specific individual on his own. 'his own mysterious tricks' however it remained sealed as a prime aspect of his demeanor shadowed about him. "Come on, lets get you the hell out of here. We've got enough vehicles, providing a sancuatized spot to hide if needed." He had a strong, dominant-masculin voice. Deep dominant tone-a natural sound he couldn't help it-a hint of alluring mysterious-head strong persona, illuminated his presence. Yet he remained calm, for Jill so she would be afraid. He gesturely nodded in a secure direction to get her out of this building, towards the trucks only opening. Armed with remote-controlled external heavy machine guns and video cameras to detect footage of zombies.   Stryker vehicle A slammed on it's breaks, permitting three men to jump out of the back. Prepared as explained prior, intact standard procedures heading out with their weapons to begin clearing out the devestation. Keeping alert for any innocent standbys who weren't corrupted by the virus...yet. Max is the last to jump out of this truck, steel boats hit the ground. He wasn't human not even damn close-vampire roughly 300 years old. Mexican descendent , he was use to these sorts of mission, hell no it wasn't his first choice. Shit blowing shit up always gets blood boiling. "Aight' amigo' we've entered through thee East Expo ditch. Four men are on procedure to guard the survillance gates back up. Others are already out on da' hunt , see you round partner." Max's apparent hispanic accent, returned a heads up.A walkie-talkie, he clipped back on to his belt around his waist. He disgusted scrunched his brows-the stench smell worse the vomit and shit mixed. It's ten time worse when ya' a bein' of enhanced sense. "Son'a biotch. LET"S get this shit cleared out. Show these magot bitoches' who's boss!" He bellows out, commanding a few men he had surrounding the truck. Shadows swamped through a nearby alley way. Groans, growls increased as a steed of zombies come chumping away at their teeth. Flesh torn off their faces, stomachs gutted out, blood spattered on brick walls. Max's expression? 'fuck this' cocked squad automatic weapon, it swallowed the bullets injected. Targetting each meat head, bullets spit through the barrel rapidly. Lodging through their head's causing them to explode and brain matter scatters it's trace everywhere.Meanwhile....On the otherside of the city an abandoned building had seemingly undergone a deadly threat. While Jill was inside downstairs, stricken in a state of coldness. Frozen perhaps in fear of unsure what to do? Discretely as an increasing, rumbling sound only massive vehicles conduct is heard. Rapidly it's superior engine sound approachs and WHAM! Concrete beams, shreds of a wall combusted forcefully inward, steel gutter of a Stryker Military truck's front end was aggressively collashed through the buildings' wall.   Black Ops Arrives. - back up.Black Stryker vehicles stampeed rapidly down abandoned and blood painted woods, leading towards the bordered City. A city now in the slumps, in which now deteriorated by an notorious identical deadly toxin spill-that had occurred nearly decades ago. 'Raccoon City, right? A city in the United States. This time ultimately became this one---and its outlying areas house several bionengineering laboratories belonging to the Umbrella Corporation and Kaufman's Fiddler's Green. These laboratories conducted by Scientists who developed viruses that can mutate humans and animals into zombie-like creatures. One of the laboratories, still reamins 'the Hive.' , it is located underneath the city's grounds and is the producer of the G-Virus. These Viruses are the plot devices driving the story behind the games, sabotage an security failures have unleashed these viruses and infected creatures, humans throughout the proximitiy an' a vial threat to spread an entire country.'Fucking imagine-predictions stand correct on traces and logical evidence leading on Judgment Day, proceeds? Threatens Our Continent? It's said first target is California-then we have armies of deadly robots aka machines and toxic consumed zombies ruling over the fucking world. Black Ops has it's share of abnormal assignments slab they are enforced to take on an get it done, until the end. No matter who or what is left through this'. -Effectively Jason narrowed his semi-dark brows, sophisticatedly his ocean blue hues remained settled in determined mode on the destructed city-before him. Combusted, deteriorated, blood splatter painted each crack, stone , dust of dirt as the plains had surrendered to it's evil spill to the sharded grounds. Scent steamed venging death as a dominant aroma-a turmoil fume-as though earth's natural cleansing was permanently destroyed. Creak immediately forged a command in sync control as a Black Blazer's brakes were haulted. Inches from steel electrical fences-bordering off from the rest of the Country, by the government's military forces.The strategic weapons to destroy it's deadly inhabitants are furnished an' stored secretly somewhere inside. Although what's unknown of the restricted weapons, carried in the bounds of his Blazer's trunk---and BlackOps' , discrete Jeeps "Stryker Vehicles." - No survivors are discovered or seen in it's ruins, although traces of the T- and G- viruses can be uncovered. As a result, the city is declared a restricted area and a biological hazard.   n another Corner of the City...Denbo discovered that the man he got a car from, Chihuaha is responsible for the car's disappearance. Denbo then discovers Chihuahua trying to feed Slack, a hooker to zombies. Angered at this Riley, and Charlie save Slack and kill the man Riley was to get his car from so he could travel out of the Green. The three are soon arrested and taken to jail, where Slack reveals she was to be killed by zombies on Kaufman's orders, because she is actually an agent for Mulligan. Mulligan is an Irishman who once worked with Riley, but now has turned against Kaufman's class society and is tryign to gather rebels among the poor. Part of his anger may be that he has no way, aside from Riley's supplies, to gain antibiotics for his infirm son.Meanwhile, Cholo DeMora the second in comman of the Dead Reckoning team, having turned down by Kaufman from buying an apartment in Fiddler's Green has gone renegade. Having his dreams shattered by Kaufman - for whom he has been secretly employed (among his tasks the disposal of the corpses of Kaufman's murdered enemies) - Cholo is out to even the score. He threatens to destroy Fiddler's Green with the Dead Reckoning, which he manages to hijack the vehicle, along with Pretty Boy, Mouse, Anchor, and Foxy who all believe in his cause. His threat stands unless his demands are met. Zombies attack as he is leaving, but Cholo doesn't care and orders his crew to drive away without intervening, Kaufman turns to Riley to stop Cholo from exacting his revenge. He is assigned three other officers, Manolete , Motown and Pillsbury , all of whom work for Kaufman and provide escort. After Manolete is bitten, Riley interrogates the other two, making his position quite clear to them. He has a tracking device, so that he knows where to find the "Dead Reckoning." They get there, and wait. He goes only with Charlie, leaving the other three behind. Motown wants to stop him, but Pillsbury betrays her and knocks her out, then gives Slack safe escort to follow Riley. When Riley finally catches Cholo, he is very nearly killed by him, while the crew caught in the crossfire, including Slack who moves for Riley's defense. Motown arrives, and is attacked by a zombie. Her death provides a distraction, so Riley shuts down Dead Reckoning's ability to use its weapons. With that, Riley convinces him to allow him to take Dead Reckoning and leave the city to head north. Cholo elects to take the Woody, an old GM station wagon with out a roof, and to go west, Foxy decides to go with him, however shortly after this Cholo is bitten by a zombie. Cholo leaves for the city, wanting to finish off Kauffman, Foxy takes the Woody and drives him to the entrance, before heading to Cleveland. During this , Riley and his crew then notice fires in the city and head back to try and save the city.

　 {Bourne Legacy}At CIA headquarters in downtown New York City, Kramer disguises himself as the Superior 'good' Agent. Sophisticated building, arised up in between two fourteen floor banks. From a verticle view point, five miles at a district left of 415 East 71st Street uphold's Time Square. An opposite distance--leads pedestrians Central Park. Tensions taintedly swamp sporatic agents, of supicious lurkin' feeling. It's muckin' threats gradually haunted inside Room 1201B, indicates '12th' floor. Quality of they're two monitor screens, were Government sensored base-authority capability to zoom in for a search or keep track of on-goings-either of crimes comitted an' silenced, or for those who initially use their Intellect. for what we'd perdict the tendencies of what the CIA should consist of. Green lines marked a survelliance grid-screening in on Monitor B-an abrupt left of Chief. Landy's standin' position, where she remained in front of the entrance. Kramer creditability smirk resigned from his boost-selfin' folds. He raised his shady right hand in a fist form an' covered his mouth-briefly to cough and clear his throat.Shadowy stamina drifted within the Conference room, whils't he forwardly stepped away from an angled window view. Behind him New York City's famous night life became prominent, now the hours concieved the sun's last second-it had been forcefully sunk down between two building's beyond the Brooklyn Bridge. Clark Poundstone, Pentagon Special Intelligence circles around the far borders in the office. Frequently strokin' his right hand through his sandy-blonde hair, peculiarly trembled inside in a fear. Without allowin' his fellow Superiors catch a drift.Landy had her insightful predictions, althou' she wasn't going to spill a damn word on the thoughts'-somethin' is about to occur, but what? Squintin' her greenish orbs' quietly she'd aimlessly study both these men, swallowed occasionally in dared peculiar concerns', but she glanced down an' crossed her slender arms. "How long have you hired this Agent, who captured the young girl in Baghdad for? Aware of possible consequences for these unjustifiable actions-right? Kramer?" She inquired, questionable reminded him-raisin' a thin blonde brow, awkwardly hinted the fact towards Clark Poundstone. {Prior - to Present}Prior from Jason Bourne's assignment, back in Baghdad containing the follow up investigation on the Green Zone activities. Due to Brown's help, Bourne's suspicions were confirmed that Al-Rawi met with Poundstone in February in Jordan as Poundstone's inside man. Martin Brown is a CIA Baghdad bureau chief. Who is an informant called 'Magellan' aka. Curveball, thou' Magellan is an area in Baghdad plains' within the warzone boundaries. Al-Rawi informed Bourne that he told Poundstone there had been no WMD program since the First Persian Gulf War; Poundstone apparently lied to his superiors in Washinton-so that Iraq would be invaded. Thus, responsibly hired by Kramer himself to further cover-up infamous conspiracies. American forces commence on attack on Al-Rawi's positions, and the general flees. Meanwhile, Bourne killed his captor an' races evidentally collected priceless documents. One face-to-face meet between, Poundstone an' Bourne when he warned him.　Poundstone told Bourne that WMDs do not matter, thus caused Jason to violently grab Poundstone's ass sayin' "the reason we go to war always matters." then-they didn't resume, meetin' afterwards. Although before Bourne's departure he sent the information to all major news agencies around the world-who'd pound Poundstone into his grave. Or destroy his sorry ass-from his political career-Black Booked understood Conspiracy is that of Bourne's Legacy. Semi-demolished evidence revised Jason's cloudy memories-those pieces either covered up or stolen. Answers rawfully satisfied, but at the same time haunted an' tampered within his confused emotions. Did he want to remember what happened on Magellan's sites? Rapidly convertion between David Webb an' becoming Jason Bourne? An assassin for treadstone-would be just a piece of the past. Subconsciouly, in the depths of our Souls, do we hunger for peace-but inorder to succeed sometimes we have rewind back to even the horrors unjustified to what happened to us.{New York}'You are your own raw material. When you know what you consist of and what you want to make of it, then you can invent yourself.' Whil'st those Agents remain productive inside--ploy unknown to their knowledge unraveled stragetically. Discrete corrpute alley portrays somewhere to keep blank for Jason's intended whereabouts. Typical Bourne notorious assassin reigned over his dominant essence. Unknown black boots marked claimed as he invaded a forgotten alley. Blending in the shear darkness, provided by two abandoned warehouses--two choices to go about this.--and both are risk takers, but dynamically legit as logic an' reasoning. Either way-Jason wasn't prevailing to play nice, SJ is on the trail to retrieve Sebrina-he could feel the intense alert inside his veins. Kramer didn't gain respect in CIA headquarters for idiotcy-just because one is intelligent doesn't mean they're hunger for power drowned themselves in their own ignorance. Detectable clues, loudly elects Kramer as the vial ring leader of this whole fuck Bourne mess-from it's birth.-and I'm speakin' as far back as Webb period. "Ya' a cop or somethin' foo" gang stumbled out from a mere corner, hollow shell like-as though this son-of-a-bitch were a hermit challengingly coming out. He crossed paths with Jason, from behind-bourne's rapidly observed within the shadow reflecting this man's disgusting image. Goone wavered a knife in his left hand-raspy tone in his voice hinted a threat. 'If he was a damn cop?-then what?' Jason unamusingly shook his head n' sighed; he had zero tolerance to deal with this bull-time was fallin' and this wasn't helping. Lickin' between his closed manly folds' whil'st he sharply turned around an' landed his blue hues on the pertraitor.A short glimpse behind him, an unknown slender hand reveals, but the body remained mute. 'Looks like dumbass has been causing trouble for some time?' Resumin' his attention back on this scumb, Jason vertically draws out a Glock 32., upper cuts him in the jaw an' aiming the gun's handle then decks the dude between the eyes. Whil'st aggressively choking him in the strength of his right hand's grip, wrapped around his throat-then drops him to the ground. Quickly dragging the mute man, around back where a steel pole stakes from the ground--to handcuff both the goone's hands to it. Of course both Jason's hands reveal to be wearing black gloves, at the same time as he walks off the scene-he reached behind. Retrievin' an untrackable cell phone an' dials officials to come pick this asshole up, stating a woman was found dead by his gang doings. {CIA headquarters in downtown New York City} -CheckmateMeanwhile. "Chief Landy-see this is why your precious ass was prisoned. You denied your'self from properly removing the shield from your eyes. Failure in judgement calls is a flaw of you'res. Advise you repair it inorder to succeed the next time around, or pull through orders properly as assigned." Kramer violently rebuttle, chuckling inside his head. It's amusing board game to him, this is playing a chess game to him these are his pauns workin' under his command. Without a trace of evidence, effectively employed soldiers cover them up-zooming in across vaguely towards Poundstone who continuiously stumbled over himself.Sporatic coughs are heard from mouths of agents, surfing through their accessible computers. Some had headsets over thier head's. Vents rushed cold air through, debating in aggression with the hot temperature increasing sparingly. Out of predictions neither of them had succumb to grips with-an unknown phone call spawned from Poundstone's cell phone. He questionably seized his brows, scrambled calmly in gathering his cell phone.Flipping it open-it reveals 'untraceable?' "what?" he whispered under his raspy voice. It's propped to his ear, wrinkles dialate his forehead. "Poundstone." strains an answer, out of curiousity. Silence drawn a combustion of tension--"I know what you did." As serious warning, it was Jason who processed the call. Then line went dead. Thus, causing a out break riot between the two General Agents and a vast scramble between their workers. Rushing to trace Bourne's whereabouts. "Where the hell is he?" Poundstone spasms out, casually raising both arms out whil'st Landy sat back an' rather thrilled in the circus that was stirred. Kramer commanded everybody to get working, fast! "Sir all access is unavailable." one computer technician mentioned. Kramer strickenly glared responsively-"What the hell do you mean, access is unavaible?!--what the?" Zip. Superficial. Authority servillance monitoring, CIA compu. programming shuts off. "Well, Kramer call off the shots ; it's clear he's going to communicate." Landy predatorially steps around, as she strongly advised him.Whil'st they stampeed, squandered around their superior conferrence room like rodents fleeing from a raid attack--Bourne was prioritized an' dead on determined to demolished they're ignorance. Jason's existance wasn't in any detectable reach-but he sure in hell could witness close encounter from wherever he was. Sniper's precision rifle allowed a clear line-of-sight aim shooting, detailed advanced knowledge of the intended victim's travel plans, the ability to identify the target at long range, and the ability to score a first-round lethal hit at this long range, measured at least in hundreds of meters. Prepared-Jason provided needed stationary, magnum gps system miraculiously invented in one Bourne Coporate division, it's wireless access condensed in Bourne's satellites the building was miles back, behind this end of the city. Heat and contaminated sultry air invades through partially opened cracks, a left manly hand reveals to be covered in a black glove-extracted a none-traceable phone from it's closure. It rings-he waits until an opponent answers. "Where are you-Bourne?" Kramer demands, stressfully running his fingers through his hair. Staggering back and forth, through an imagery glance from a far distance-he'd barely shield Landy's mute presence." It's not the wise question to ask, Kramer-not in the complicated situation you got your ass into. You might want to seriously be of concerned of who I have. Trade for trade. Listen very closely to what I'm about to tell you. Tony-you released the young woman you had abducted and leave them be. This is between the two of us. You will get what you've deserved, give you the publicity you've been on the haunt for all this time--and of course I will back of Xander---your brother." Jason's precised, hand-in-hand deal revealed any but pleasant in the tone of his deep masculin voice. ..Amused smirk reversed in the corners of his manly folds, however unnoticeable due to his stealth hiding. Agent Tony Kramer, just as Jason came clean to the man's real name-now his so-called loyal team learned something new. Kramer dramatically debated inside his mind, factoring in what route to take-questionably enlightened on how or if Jason is bluffing. On the idea that his brother Zander is under Jason's reach now? "How do I know your not yanking at my nerves here? Persuade me to believe, my brother is under-danger and inorder to save his ass - I got to release Miss. Nikki? Relieve both her and your brother from my threshold? In order to strategically succeed, Jason you'd can't be in this State, let alone city!" Kramer rationally emplies, a simple analysis on the matter of face. "Lorenzo isn't returning his calls!" Spats off Proudstone he stands back nervously.Roof-top landing' on top of CIA's Headquarters, is Lorenzo a criminal who is or was hired to hit any individual pertaining of Jason by Kramer-out of a fast move. But--a black shadow stepped out from a vertical distance, at view point Lorenzo's body hangs over the cement railing from the roof-his sniper gun-laid awkwardly downward. Inside a dark-abandoned shelter area, beside a semi-cracked board lurking the outside--is a GPS mini screen. 'Did you cameras exist inside neighborhood lights? Are you aware of why? I can intrigue you in this much, government has abilities to invade and zoom inside our homes if the potential is a suspect and of course harmful to the entire country-they are unrestricted to the sources provided for them.'Bourne Enterprises unites in a specific division who had created a Satellite in which contradicts Superior codes, usually hidden inside the Black Book to be able to do the exact same thing. Right now a brother and innocent standby is at stake-an risks and sacrifices to finish this after smoothly sailing SJ and Sebrina home was resonsable for this encounter. "What's the matter Kramer, Proudstone bitching about another hitman-who's sleeping on the job again." timidly amused by his statement, diverting his ocean blue hues across to find that hitman motionless. "What leads you to believe I am anywhere near New York? Miami heat, sure feels damn good-Southern ocean air. Kind of has it's Tropical grasp feel to it. Zander taste is agreeable intriguing, right now he is walking to his frig, grabbing a yogurt." To conclude in this point made, even though 'they' couldn't see, Jason could detailing see Xander in his home inorder to make this logically close to being true. He didn't have to be in Miami either, the intended target is in his hands-a deal was conducted hours before this took place. Maybe a reason Chief Landy remained mute during this whole ordeal-mess that literally Kramer and Poundstone created themselves. Kramer swallowed coming to find an appeal in this satisfied idea of a deal he had waited for Jason to finally come forth an' make. Realizing it's possible Zander's life is in jeopardy-now a quick call over to the Foreign nations. The hired unknown in Baghdad is contacted and order to release the woman and back off.In proficient private secondary phone call, transferred in Martin Brown's office in CIA Baghdad's quarters. A claim to bombard in where Miss. Nikkis captive remained whil'st stampeeds of soliders busted in taking the ignorant man counterable . Leaving the young woman now open to her freedom. A simple Military nod between the two gentlemen before dragging their suspect off and into their Bureau's hands.Chief Landy steps out of the office, promptly carries a phone call out to the Superiors down in Washington informing D.C. head the official disc is in her hands. Poundstone is under quarantine that he is unaware of-awaiting for a shock that his ass is caught and soon will be taking into custody. Distant but is able to zoom in. Remain alertive an' observant in the conclusion within this Conspiracy ready to come to it's final realization not so much to the world, but to himself. The diginity, profound strength, vile threats which have been repeative within his Family would travel down a new revenue. One from a haunted past that apparently had to be connected. 'but why?' Jason swallowed it all inside his gut, the strain of this intense clearness? Before the events in Bourne Identity, he was known by birth as Webb, he had a Thai wife named Dao and two children named Jashua and Alyssa in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia. Webb's wife and two childrend were inadvertently killed during a War, when a fighter plane strayed mysteriously into Cambodia, dropped two bombs and strafed a spot near the Mekong River. Due to Cambodia's neutrality in the war, every nation disclaimed the plane, and therefore no one took responsibility for the incident.　Thus, began the elected train for an elite Top Secret Forces unit called Medusa, then gradually down the road-Treadstone came along. Vosen done his dirty fucked up crimes-more then once, lengthy list points out Charles, EJ's MIA incident an' partnering in the cover up with Kramer on this. Chief Landy had embarked in the illusion of a toy in this game of they'res perhaps a paun if you will. The one to inhale the blame in all their twisted foul play. Her assignment was to process Jason Bourne to return overseas an investigate to lure the truth on Poundstone. Who is the betrayal in the War active today in Iraq 'Green Zone' -Megallen sights were also used terminate official evidence on a cruel 'de ja vue' accurate find within Jason's mind, that this looked identical to the land demolished in Cambodia. Constructively, Kramer and Poundstone were incarcerated with authority figuration, both of them will be brought to justice while brought to society and publically put on the stand. Jason aware and slickly watched this take place, an amused smirk briefly shifted in his manly folds' corners-his breaths were contained as he sighed soundlessly. Frequently widening his medium-tone brows, clickin' on a phone piece attached to his left ear. Chief Pam Landy pleased, succeeding in her own freedom-resuming to her old career. She was alone inside her official office, a floor below the one they were all in-she had leaned forward on her steel desk. Shifting through future assigned works-dreaded silenced sigh linger through her female nose. Realizing her phone is off the hook, she pondered whilst reaching for it. "---bourne?" she paused. " I um--wanted to thank you. For the tapes and files. It's all tied off-it's over. Your family is clear. I guess I owe you an appology." while Landy surrendered, becoming sincere in her apology-Jason increasingly became viewable but not for her-yet.Of course wearing a complete black attire-jacket, pants the whole night damn yards followed by a black ear piece to remain in communication. The only ideal reach, she was capable of getting from him. He nod his head at the same time-casually mentally noting her legit responses. Genuinely-a typical Bourne smirk profoundly appeared against his mouth's corners. "Goodbye" Jason's thick voice dropped capping an end. Landy rapidly parted her mouth from the opposite end. "Wait-wait, un-asked for advice Bourne. Kramer will be enforced justice, now your cloudy past is clean--you can allow yourself to be at peace. When your ready-there is another assignment for you to contribute in. A secret FBI search for a serial killer unknown to America and could be a serious threat to the United States. It's been mailed to your office--unless, why don't you come in and we'll talk about it?" she then remained silent, awaiting on a proposal or maybe a real meet on official work assignment? Jason departed his mouth as though he were going to suggest a different idea--but briefly peaked out a vertical window. "Get some rest Pam." cocking a left brow, whils't he adivsed an reserved a brief smirk. "You look tired---" coy hint toyed in his manly voice-mysterious vanished out of mere sight inside the building directly across from the CIA headquarter's building. The whole time-causing Pam Landing to drop her phone and revolve around her desk. Nothing.-------------------{ Bourne Legacy -A Fresh Start}-------------------------------------- Aftermath..........Dust musks blown forcefully across a deserted plain field--a location extracted from Civilization. Harley's dominant stance, held up-ward at an angle beside a roadside. Not a vehicle in sight was remotely proceeding in taking up a challenge in driving through, to embark on some activity in the silence that was dominating the open atmosphere. Mountains distracted from a drifted far distance - covered by sporatic green plantation, the morning sunrise introduded behind their borders. Abandonded barn, pratically deteriorated was still capable of providing some sort of leanance for farming equipment. Quietness stilled an intense serene embrace - taunting within Jason's stomach, crawling inside his veins and debating and coming to grips 'finally' inside his mind. "Landy was right, now that I've remember everything -somethings I can lay down to rest." Jason briefly privately stated, however his facial expressions reflected according to his mind's words.His heart mildly beatedly normally, breathing in solidary air whil'st reflecting on past events prior to this 'well worth-new life he has been able to build up on' -kneeled down in front of a fire. One he had ignited after building a triangle stilt made out of wood-flames roughly burned their dried barks. Jason was capable of returning some personal photographs from Megellan, rolling them up before burning each one.'What if you forgot everything?' he swallowed and briefly narrowed his brows. Remembering vividly of past times, sometimes we have to rewind inorder to realistically heal. Inidividual, dividened flashbacks rapidly approached in the back of his head-only not visually but in echoed voices in a taunting approach. 'No it's not coming back! That's the point!.' You live moment to moment. 'I got to live like this--I--don't even know who I'm hiding from.' So you search for the truth--but the truth is worse than ignorance. 'You're a US Government Property, malfunctioning 30 billion dollar weapon.' There's nowhere to go - but you find the comfort that you crave --and lose it just as fast as you had it. Gone.　Sweat penetrated against Jason's muscular jawline, as it' traced streaks from under his hair line of his forehead. Mid-morning's sun was increasing the heat rapidly as time dragged on. Resting one elbow on top of his lean leg, while burning a final photo into the trembling flames-he adjusted his other hand to press male finger tips across his forehead. An important memory concluded to a point to where he stands now, or feels as in the present of his life-now. 'Someone said, sooner or later, you'll remember something good.' Gradually, Jason stands up claiming his broad waists with both his manly hands-diverting his ocean blue hues, instantly he had viewed his watch around his broad left wrist. Interwindingly nodding his head, whil'st reserving such a loud reserved smirk. Indicating the appreciation of the life he does have now--"I do remember something good--all the time." It was almost morning, waking up from the American Dream-right? We are willing to suffer, to die for the things we care about. For love, for the right or wrong choices. Because of her, I had solved the case. My case. All of it. Who I am. Is it worth it? Saying that it never would, is a lie. Sometimes you get lucky. Sometimes, something good comes out of it. We remember the good everyday that you're reminded of. Something you know you wouldn't deserve in a million years. Something that gives you a reason to go on.Sweat penetrated against Jason's muscular jawline, as it' traced streaks from under his hair line of his forehead. Mid-morning's sun was increasing the heat rapidly as time dragged on. Resting one elbow on top of his lean leg, while burning a final photo into the trembling flames-he adjusted his other hand to press male finger tips across his forehead. An important memory concluded to a point to where he stands now, or feels as in the present of his life-now. 'Someone said, sooner or later, you'll remember something good.' Gradually, Jason stands up claiming his broad waists with both his manly hands-diverting his ocean blue hues, instantly he had viewed his watch around his broad left wrist. Interwindingly nodding his head, whil'st reserving such a loud reserved smirk. Indicating the appreciation of the life he does have now--"I do remember something good--all the time." It was almost morning, waking up from the American Dream-right? We are willing to suffer, to die for the things we care about. For love, for the right or wrong choices. Because of her, I had solved the case. My case. All of it. Who I am. Is it worth it? Saying that it never would, is a lie. Sometimes you get lucky. Sometimes, something good comes out of it. We remember the good everyday that you're reminded of. Something you know you wouldn't deserve in a million years. Something that gives you a reason to go on.　-Jason Bourne-

"From what I have been remembering I was or am a former assassin of the CIA's Operation Treadstone. I was the government's top agent until recently I became their number one target, because they are hiding something, and know I am going to find it..Anyway...during a stormy night, a group of Italian fishermen found a man, me; floating in the Mediterrean Sea off Marseille, with two gunshot wounds in my back and a device with the number of a Swiss bank account embedded in my hip. Suffering from retrograde amnesia, I find I am versed in several European languages and can perform uncommon tasks such as sea navigation, size shape and color of everything that walks , moves , stands still, numbers, and to things like tying exotic knots in the ship's ropes, but I could not remember anything about myself before that night or how I got there. When the ship docks in Oneglia, I set off for Zurich to investigate the bank account.At the CIA headquarters in Langley, Deputy Director Ward Abbott finds out about a failed assassination attempt on deposed African dictator Nykwana Wombosi.Meanwhile, hassled for sleeping on a park bench in Zurich, I find out I am curiously proficient in hand-to-hand combat and firearms usage when I subdue two Swiss police officers in an unthinking reflex action of self-defense. At the bank in Zurich, using the number embedded in my hip, I open my safe deposit box to find several passports containing my picture (under different names), large amounts of assorted currencies, and a 9mmm Sig Sauer SP2009 handgun. Still with no idea what my real name was , I assume the one from the first US passport, Jason Bourne. Which turns out to be my real name. When American and Swiss authorities attempt to capture me at the US Consulate, I offered this young girl who was in desperate need of money, $20,000 to take me to Parris, the city of the address on my passport.Meanwhile, Alexander Conklin, the head of the CIA black ops group Operation Treadstone, assures Deputy Director Abbott that he will destroy any evidence connecting them to the field agent, me responsible for the failed assassination attempt on Wombosi. I activate three "assets" to take down their fellow operative: Castel, Mannheim, and the Professor.When I arrive at the address on my passport, I immediately recognized by the building superintendent, and based on the contents of my apartment.Before remembering being an agent for the government, then I concluded that I was in the shipping business. In search of more clues, I hit redial on my phone and was connected to the Hotel Regina, who recognized one of my aliases from another passport, John Michael Kane. They had me under many other names. They told me that Kane was a guest who died two weeks before in a car crash. As I ponder this, Castel blasts through a window and engages me in hand-to-hand combat. After I subdues him; I attempt to interrogate him, but Castel jumped out the window, preferring suicide over interrogation by me for information. The girl who was helping me, Marie found wanted posters in Castel's bag with both hers and my pictures on them.I continue and advise Marie to leave me as I try to figure out who I am and why people were after me. I told her to go to the police and explain everything to them; but she chose to remain with me and encouraged me to figure it out with her help. I didn't have any relations with this woman so if your wondering, didn't happen. Anyway....After eluding the Paris police and spending the night in hiding, I went to the Hotel Regina to stay.-Jason continues with his long story-"Meanwhile, Conklin plants a body in the Parisian morgue to fool Wombosi into thinking Kane, his attempted assassin, is dead, but Wombosi recognizes that the body is not his assailant, and Conklin has Wombosi killed in his home by the agent known as "the Professor". I investigate the incident, the previous assassination attempt, and John Michael Kane's contacts, and concludes that I was the failed killer. Myself and Marie escape the city into the country to stay at the house of a friend of Marie's , where I decide that I no longer wants to be who I was.In the morning, the Professor tries to come to kill me. I use a double-barreled shotgun to blow up the home's fuel tank to distract the Professor (who was on a hilltop overlooking the home, armed with a SIG-550 sniper rifle) while he ran to the woods. I ultimately shoot the Professor twice with the shotgun and interrogates him briefly, revealing our mutual connection to Operation Treadstone. The Professor dies almost immediately from blood loss, saying. "Look at us. Look at what they make you give."Keeping $30,000, I sent Marie away with the rest of the money for her own safety. I use the Professor's cellular phone to arrange a meeting with Conklin on the Pont Neuf, which I use as a distraction to plant a tracking device on Conklin's vehicle to discover the location of Operation Treadstone's safe house in Paris.After following the vehicle to the safe house, I use an electronic device to trigger the car alarms of all the cars parked on the street, and when the noise distracts the guards, I climb into the operations safe house where Nicky Parsons and Conklin are.When I meet Conklin, I was holding him at gunpoint, I finally begin to remember my last mission. I had backed out of the (officially unsanctioned) Wombosi assassination after seeing Wombosi's children. And that is when I was shot by Wombosi while escaping the fast-moving boat and left for dead in the water.After this memory, I told Conklin that I was leaving Treadstone permanently and warned him not to try to follow me. I realize Conklin silently triggered an alarm and had backup on the way. I leave Nicky unharmed, had a shootout with several CIA agents, and escapes into the night. Some time later, I end up going to Mykonos.On my way to continue my attempt to learn more of my shadowy past as I am once more enveloped in a conspiracy surrounding the CIA and Operation Treadstone. This time come to find out Alexander Conklin is now dead and the CIA is my enemy rather than my friend. Two years after the previous events, time past. I was living away in Goa, India. I was having flashbacks of an assassination in a Berlin hotel. Meanwhile , in Berlin, a CIA officer under Deputy Director Pamela Landy is trading $3 million got the complete "Neski Files," documents concerning the theft of $20 million from the CIA, seven years earlier. They are to complete the exchange in an office building in Berlin. During the exchange, an assassin named Kirill plants my fingerprint on a bomb in the building's basement and proceeds to kill the agent and the source, stealing the files and money. He sells them to Russian oil magnate Yuri Gretkov.Kirill travels to Goa in order to kill me, but I spot him and flee, just as I was driving away, Kirill, armed with a sniper rifle, fires at the driver whom he believes to be me but in fact was Marie, killing her and causing the car to veer off the bridge into a river. Kirill leaves, believing that he had killed me, but I managed to swim away undetected. I leave for Naples, Italy, with money and passports in an attempt to learn why I was again being targeted, believing that Treadstone is pursuing me.I leave for Naples, Italy, with money and passports in an attempt to learn why I was again being targeted, believing that Treadstone is pursuing me.In Berlin, Landy's team finds the planted fingerprint and, upon running it through the database, finds that the identity of the person in question was part of Treadstone and informaton regarding it restricted by the CIA. Landy then flies to CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia to meet with her boss and to find out about Treadstone and who left the print. She discovers that they belong to me and questions Ward Abbot about Treadstone. He admits that he had Conklin killed after a failed mission, but has no idea where I was. Landy tells Abbott that the CIA agent who stole the $20 milion was named in the stolen files. A Russian politician , Vladimir Neski, was due to identify the thief. Before he could do so, however, Neski was apparently murdered by his wife in a Berlin hotel, who had proceeded to commit suicide afterwards. Landy believes that myself and Conklin were involved in the theft, and , based on the discovered fingerprint, that I was responsible for the deaths of the CIA officer and source in Berlin. Both Abbot and Landy go to Berlin, hoping to find some trace of where I was and capture me.Arriving in Naples, Italy, I deliberately use a known passport under my name. Agents in Langley are notified of my arrival, and I am detained. I incapacitate an Italian Carabinieri officer and his CIA interrogator, copies the agent's SIM card on my own cell phone, then escapes. While driving, I listen in on a call from Landy, learning her name, phone number , and that I was suspected of the recent killings in Berlin. I steal a car and head to Germany. In Munich, I break into another Treadstone agent's house. Upon arrival, the agent , Jarda, tells me Treadstone was shut down following Conklin's death; he and myself are the only remnants of the project. As I realize Jarda has called backup, Jarda attacks, and I had no choice and ended up killing Jarda. I set a trap by opening a gas line and jamming a magazine into a toaster; the home explodes when backup arrives.In Amsterdam, Landy and Abbot intercept and debrief Nicky Parsons, Treadstone's handler in Paris. I follow them from a hotel to a CIA office in Berlin. Armed wit ha sniper rifle from a neighboring roof, I call Landy's phone, questioning her intentions. She tells me it is because he killed two people in Berlin. Although Landy was referring to the agents, I thought she was referring to Neski and his wife. I arrange to meet Nicky at the Alexanderplatz, where I use a crowded anti-capitalist protest to evade surveillance. I lead Nicky to the subway station and interrogate her, learning that Abbott was the head of Treadstone, not Conklin. My flashbacks of Neski's assassination at the Brecker Hotel return, but Nicky knows nothing about the Neski killing. Upon hearing their conversation over Nicky's transmiter, Landy begins to believe that I was being framed. To the surprise of Landy and Abbott, I let Nicky go unharmed. Back at the office, Abbott's associate Danny Zorn becomes positive that I was being framed after examining the basement where the bomb with my fingerprint was found. After revealing his belief to Abbott, Abbott stabs him to death, providing his involvement in the conspiracy.I revisit the Brecker Hotel in Berlin and remembers more of the Neski mission. I was sent to kill Neski on Conklin's orders; and when Neski's wife unexpectedly showed up, I shot him and then her, positioning the scene to appear a murder-suicide. The German police arrive after the hotel's lobby report I was wanted, which interrupts my flashback and forces me to escape via the buildings exterior. Having evaded them, I break into Abbott's hotel room and records a conversation between him and Gretkov that incriminates Abbott and Gretkov in the theft of the money. Abbott also confesses that he ordered me killed that my wife was not the intended target. Which I had recently learned that Buffy my wife, was the one with me in the car who I thought was killed just like I was suppose to have been dead. Neski's murder by me, the murder of the agents by Kirill, and the planted fingerprint at the scene. Out of respect for Marie's beliefs in non-violence, I spare Abbott's life. Zorn's body is discovered at the office and Landy, realizing Abbott killed him, goes to confront Abbott, who commits suicide. Landy later receives the tape that I recorded.I travel to Moscow, where i was shot and wounded by Kirill. After an extended high-speed chase through Moscow, I force Kirill to crash in a tunnel, critically wounding him. Gretkov is arrested by Russian police after Landy provides them with the evidence she got from me. I proceed to the apartment of Irena Neski, Vladimir Neski's daughter, where I inform her that her mother did not killer her father and then commit suicide; that I had killed them both on a mission gone wrng, and I apologizes for it.Not to much later, I end up back in New York City. I contact Landy by cell phone, asking why the CIA is still looking for me. Landy then thanks me for supplying the tape, which the CIA has used to settle matters concerning my frame-up. Before I hung up, Landy suggests that I come in to discuss the matter, I decline by simply stating, "Get some rest, Pam; you look tired."This is where it starts for me , when I had returned to New York where I had first met my wife, your sister Buffy. But before that......became to us finding each other again..........-Jason finishes up his story up until now.....-After receiving a phone call from me, Ross takes a taxi to Waterloo Station and is followed by the CIA, who believe him to be meeting his source there. At the station , I saw the CIA officers following Ross and places a prepaid mobile phone on himl through it, I instruct the frightened journalist on how to dodge the station's surveillance, whole knocking out the CIA agents attempting to kidnap Ross. However, Vosen orders their "asset", an assassin name Paz, to kill Ross and his source. Vosen's team identifies me on a security camera and recognizes me as the original Treadstone assassin, and assumes I am Ross's source. While Paz gets into position with a sniper rifle, I tell Ross to remain hidden, but Ross panics and steps out into the open, giving Paz a clear kill shot. In the ensuing chaos, I grab Ross's notes off his body, the notes reveal Ross' source to be Daniels.Deputy Director Pamela Landy is asked to help capture me. With Landy's help, Vosen and his team determine that Daniels is Ross' source. They decide to send a team to Daniel's office in Madrid, but I arrive first, finding only one photograph in an otherwise empty safe as Daniels has already left. I attack the CIA team when they enter the office and, just as I finish mopping up the CIA agents, Nicky Parsons enters the office. Nicky tells him that she was reassigned to Madrid after Berlin, and that Daniels has fled to Tangier. She helps me escape the CIA reinforcements by telling Vosen that I had already left the office. I call the police to report the sound of gunfighting , they arrive just as the second CIA team piles out of their vehicles, guns drawn, in fron of the office. While in Tangier, they realize the CIA has sent assassin Desh Bouksani to eliminate Daniels. Nicky uses her official clearance access to send Dash a message, telling him to met her for a new phone, thus allowing me to follow Desh to his target. When Vosen realizes Nicky's deceit he orders Desh to kill Nicky and my after terminating Daniels. Landy is outraged at Vosen's willingness to indiscriminately kill CIA personnel and quits operation.I follow Desh and is unable to save Daniels, who dies from Desh's planted bomb. When Desh returns for Nicky, I outrun the Tangier police and fights Desh, eventually strangling him with a towel. I accompany Nicky to a bus station where she begins her own separate life on the run from the CIA. At the Tangier morgue, I examine Daniel's charred papers and finds the address of the CIA station in New York City. I take a flight to New York City, and on arrival deliberately use a passport that alerts Landy to my presence. I call Landy while observing her and Vosen from across the street. Landy tells me that my real name is Jason Bourne and that I was born on 4/15/71, a code for the address of the Treadstone facility at 415 East 71st Street. I send a text message and follow Landy as she leaves the building. My meeting, however, is simply a diversion to allow me to enter Vosen's office and steal classified Blackbriar documents.Vosen realizes the diversion after a phone call from me to get a recording of his voice, the key to unlocking the safe. I state that I was in Vosen's office, and a desperate Vosen frantically orders CIA officers back to his office to capture me. I escape and enter into a car chase with CIA officers and Paz. Emerging victorious from my vehicular duel with Paz, I choose not to kill him. Just outside the Treadstone facilitym I meet Landy and gave her the stolen documents from Vosen's office before entering the building. Inside, I meet Dr. Albert Hirsch, who ran Treadstone's psychological conditioning program. With his help, I remembers that, once as Captain David Webb, I volunteered for the program and killed a man in the same room. Horrified by the memory of what I did to complete my conditioning , I tell Hirsch, "I remember everything.

Present August 2011 It had been quite a few years since the events that had happened in Ipswich, Pogue and best friend Kate's hospitalized, Chases' addiction to defeat Caleb Danvers, and try to use her as the bate moreso for ransome. Times changed since then, no one had heard anything of Chase, where he went, if he was still alive nothing. Breanna had gone off back to Boston for the summer after the turn of events that had taken place, but never returned back to Ipswich, she had lost contact with everyone she had met, and became close too. Still no clue on what really was going on back in the town she once grew close to loving, a place where she left her heart, to a guy she would never forget or could ever forget. Was it her right to just leave for the summer to visit her parents yes, but it wasn't fare to her new founded friends or for instance her boyfriend Caleb when she never returned for the next school semester. Maybe haunting memories? no one knew, Breanna had kept mostly to herself, during the time she had found out Caleb wasn't an only child, which was fine with her, she actually grew close to Caleb's sister and missed the hell outta her best friends. She missed Reids attitudes, Pogues protectivness, Tylers calm silentness, Tara's troublesome self, Kates apprehension to shopping, and Caleb's....well his everything. The entire group she missed, what was holding her back? She had reasons, she wasn't like them, she wasn't one to want to be a damzel in distress all the time, sure she would fight if she wanted to but she wasn't as strong as the rest of them. She had no powers none what so ever, maybe her reason for leaving was that? that she was a liability to everyone maybe? not even Breanna herself knew why she didn't go back. After her parents had found out about the incident in Ipswich they pushed her to go back to Boston for the summer. she did, mainly it was in Breanna mind her parents keeping her there and not letting her return to Ipswich.<br /><br /> Within the year and a half since Breanna had left and gone back to Boston she had found out about a cousin who was now going to Spencer Academy, her cousin's name was Skyler, her mother's sister's daughter. Breanna was so eager to meet her cousin not to mention get back into the town of Ipswich she'd do anything to get back there. She had gotten her mothers phone and secretly looked up Skyler's number and added it to her contacts on her cell phone that her parents had changed her number in order to not beable to keep contact with anyone. She felt alone, more like caged to the damn house. She knew that the school year was going to start up again in the fall, actually a month from now in September, one swift move she could be out there but then be disowned by her parents. Breanna laughed at the thought of that, her parents would throw a damn fit to say the least and by now she wasn't one to listen to them anyways, her mother always wanted her to be a debutaunt, not Breanna's style. Breanna's mother was what people would call a damn queen of the debutant ball.<br /><br /> Breanna didn't want apart of it, she wanted to be back in Ipswich where she was happy with her friends, the man she loved even if he didn't love her back in return now, and she could get to know her cousin a hell of a lot better there since Skyler was living in the dorms at Spencer. Breanna sat on her bed looking at her luggage as she heard her mother calling for her. Making a annoying sigh she stood up and walked over to her door opening it "What is it mother" she asked as she looked at her. "I have your dress for the ball, you'll look beautiful in it" her mother explained as she showed Breanna the dress. Just to be nice Breanna gave a smile "It's beautiful mother but I'm not going" she said as she looked at her "you took my life away when you kept me here and cut all ties along with my scolorship to Spencer. If you think Im going to be a debutaunt your sadly mistakened" she said as she turned and closed the door on her mother. She flipped open her cell and dialed the Academy where she reenrolled herself without anyone's approval. "Thanks Jane, it'll be good to be back there." she said as she hung the phone up and began packing all her belongings once again. When finished she grabbed her laptop where she went online to her bank account and transferred every single cent she had into a spearate account that not even her parents could get into. Once that was done she grabbed her bags and walked out her door getting stopped by her mother "where do you think your going?" she asked as she saw the bags Breanna carried. "Well I was thinking and I'm gonna go stay at my real fathers house since you know my half sister is famous at being a debutant,<br /><br /> I'll learn the ropes from her" she said as she gave her mother a smile. As clueless as her mother was she actually agreeded to it. "Oh that is so wonderful my little peach, now dont forget the ball is in a few months and make sure to call me every night and tell me how things are going" she said as she hugged Breanna and jittered off with excitement. Breanna shook her head "like taking candy from a baby" she said as she grabbed her car keys and went out the front door to her car, packed her belongings into the car and drove off. The drive wasn't long, as she turned down the old dell road, a smile spread across her face as she spoke to herself "Home sweet home". The road was long and narrow at points, she had passed the old burnt down putnam barn where it did nothing but give her goosebumps. She continued driving down the road past the large estates where she knew who lived in each one of the four of them, she then drove past Nicky's the old hangout place where she had her first date with Caleb, then past the road that turned into a dead end where the colony house stood. Pulling up to the Academy the place was like a ghost school, no students where around due to the fact that school didn't start for another month. Breanna pulled into the front of the school and got out walking up the steps and into the building down to the registration office. Lucky Jane was still there when Breanna looked in the office. She opened the door and walked in "Jane" she said as she smiled "Breanna Winchester it's very nice to see you again and to have you back as one of our students. I'm sure your friends would love to see you again" she said as Breanna just nodded her head "Here's your dorm key, it's a private room this time" Jane said as Breanna thanked her "Thank you so much for the last minute enrollment. I'm just going to go move my things in and I'll see you when classes start in september" she said as she turned and walked out of the office. Finally home at last Breanna walked down the eerie hallway and out the front door to her car where she got in and drove past the boys dorms and pulled into the parkinglot of the girls dorms. She got out and grabbed most of her belongings at once and went her way to her dorm room. She wondered what everyone had been up to since she'd been gone as she made her way to the dorm room and unlocked it. She opened the door and smiled "Holy crap" she said as she looked around "this place is bigger then mine and Kates room two years ago, i could throw a party in this place" she said as she smiled placing her things down on the bed and then walked back out closing the door keys in hand as she went to grab the rest of her stuff.

Pronunciation: (rOl'plA") v.t. 1. To assume the attitudes, actions, and discourse of (another), esp. in a make-believe situation in an effort to understand a differing point of view or social interaction: Management trainees were given a chance to role-play labor negotiators. 2. To experiment with or experience (a situation or viewpoint) by playing a role: trainees role-playing management positions. -v.i. to engage in role-playing.The Lingo:RT- "real time": This refers to your real physical existence, the *player* and their life outside the "Game" of role-play.VT- "virtual time": This refers to your 'time' online, the people you meet here and the things you do when you're here.OOC- Out of Character: This means that you are speaking to others as your "player" - the person at the keyboard. It can also refer to knowledge your "player" has that your "character" does not. For example: you've talked to the player of the character " insert character's name here" and the player told you that  that "character" has a bad knee, it's his major weak spot. If you were to go into the rooms and your character - without learning this information "himself" and without a reason of established rp- immediately attacks the characters bum knee, it is considered very bad form. IC - In Character: This means that you - the player- are currently playing out your "character". You've left reality and you're acting as your character would. It also refers to knowledge that your character has gained on his own during a role-play session. A common pitfall that new role-players make is to get their OOC and their IC emotions and knowledges mixed up. For instance, just because that hot little vamp girl is coming on to your big stud vamp doesn't mean that her player wants to make a date for real life 'nookie" later.  Role Player's Creed  1. I will maintain the illusion of the game by staying in character whenever possible. I will withhold out of character comments until absolutely necessary and even then I will whisper or ICQ them to the other players.2. If I discuss the game with other players out of character, I will not allow my character to be influenced by this knowledge without express permission of the other players. I will take the time to allow my character to learn these things on his or her own during the course of the game.3. I will separate myself as a player from my character as much as possible. While I understand that a lot of myself goes into my character and because the game is so very intense often real emotions will be drawn from me as a player, I also understand that my character is not me.4. If I am not in the mood to play, I won't interrupt other people's games by coming into it out of character. I will find others who are not in character and go somewhere meant for out of character discussion. (note: will add more rules as an when i feel like it.)

Pronunciation: (rOl'plA") v.t. 1. To assume the attitudes, actions, and discourse of (another), esp. in a make-believe situation in an effort to understand a differing point of view or social interaction: Management trainees were given a chance to role-play labor negotiators. 2. To experiment with or experience (a situation or viewpoint) by playing a role: trainees role-playing management positions. -v.i. to engage in role-playing.The Lingo:RT- "real time": This refers to your real physical existence, the *player* and their life outside the "Game" of role-play.VT- "virtual time": This refers to your 'time' online, the people you meet here and the things you do when you're here.OOC- Out of Character: This means that you are speaking to others as your "player" - the person at the keyboard. It can also refer to knowledge your "player" has that your "character" does not. For example: you've talked to the player of the character " insert character's name here" and the player told you that  that "character" has a bad knee, it's his major weak spot. If you were to go into the rooms and your character - without learning this information "himself" and without a reason of established rp- immediately attacks the characters bum knee, it is considered very bad form. IC - In Character: This means that you - the player- are currently playing out your "character". You've left reality and you're acting as your character would. It also refers to knowledge that your character has gained on his own during a role-play session. A common pitfall that new role-players make is to get their OOC and their IC emotions and knowledges mixed up. For instance, just because that hot little vamp girl is coming on to your big stud vamp doesn't mean that her player wants to make a date for real life 'nookie" later.  Role Player's Creed  1. I will maintain the illusion of the game by staying in character whenever possible. I will withhold out of character comments until absolutely necessary and even then I will whisper or ICQ them to the other players.2. If I discuss the game with other players out of character, I will not allow my character to be influenced by this knowledge without express permission of the other players. I will take the time to allow my character to learn these things on his or her own during the course of the game.3. I will separate myself as a player from my character as much as possible. While I understand that a lot of myself goes into my character and because the game is so very intense often real emotions will be drawn from me as a player, I also understand that my character is not me.4. If I am not in the mood to play, I won't interrupt other people's games by coming into it out of character. I will find others who are not in character and go somewhere meant for out of character discussion. (note: will add more rules as an when i feel like it.)

1. Don't send me one-liners. I am a multi-para RPer; this means that there should be more than one paragraph or at least one long one. Sometimes, when the mood strikes me, I write a lot. I don't expect you to write as much as I do. I tolerate Novella though I do not judge by quantity but by quality as the two are not mutually exclusive. In short, be creative, be at least mildly descriptive, use proper English, and we'll be fine.2. Spelling mistakes and typos happen. Occasionally I will mess up as well. Try your best to write coherent paragraphs and I will do the same. 3. I am an original character, that means that I have done everything in my ability to properly integrate my character into the canon world of Harry Potter and I expect you to have done the same. I applaud originality and new characters; however, if your character's existence is not possible according to JKR's books, then I will not be able to play with you. This means, no Hermiones marrying Tom Riddle, no slutty Ginnys trying to get in my pants, and absolutely no sparkling vampires!4. You are not a deity, don't act like one. My character is mine to control. No moving her, no killing her, no doing anything without my consent.  5. Don't bring drama into my life. Lucy can be a bitch but that doesn't mean I'm one. IC drama makes things interesting and I'm always up for that but start being an OOC drama queen and I will delete you!6. Messages=OOCComments=ICI don't need my stories littered with plans for storylines. 7. I don't keep to the "You add, you start" rule. If you want to play, message me and we'll start something. I'm actually very personable, and as long as you're not a complete git, I'm sure we can work out something. 8. I am mainly Marauder Era, however, I will play this character during Trio era and 2nd gen on occasion. Proper back stories will be up eventually, for now message me for more information. I'm sure more will come to me but that's all for now. Look forward to playing with you all,-Lucy's creator

[Where Ever Home Is] Max, Alec [Wheel in the Sky]Springfield Missouri - All sorts of nine-miles distance high off discrete an local kruvitz (tighted assed) area. Limited allies provided an x-amount of coastal and solid ground granted in a mild public contaminated location - Alec states cause unlike New York's large ass crowds Springfield is redunant in forgotten cemented corners, it's a wise advantage for Division to utilized arcane (hidden) buildings. These apartments aren't available for an average curious wise-ass citizen who either will thrust themselves in the dead center of cross-fire or endanger a threat of exploitation against well you'd got the idea enough said. Milestones were wreckless scattered abundant against each-which direction possible. Rebellious or best said as maverick more of the idea stating the obvious micro rocks were detached therefore loner 'stones' stumbles weakened grunts underneath Alec's notorious readied-all battered beaten in leather masculine boot's rubber thick soles. Max prior disgraced-disappointed vast spill repeated in circulation rotation mode--as ifin hells bells a busted record boosted out in rockin' rythmns. --but Alec comprehended the actual underlined jacked-up concern due to legit obvious reasons of his immediate "leave of absence". Did he forget he had a team with Max? Not a damn second chance in hell. Did he forget the rest of their brothers and sisters in Seattle Washington [location of the Manticore transgenics aka Terminal City is.] -who yeah no doubt looked up an count on them? Again. Straight up? Hell no he hadn't forgot about responsibilites that also obide. A misunderstanding was definite in this whole ordeal--Alec's suffocated himself for a few months distant-discontent. Michael assigned Alec a specific task in terminating an evil son-of-a bitch masked under a spotted mole planted clues fixated on some random mojo inner dealings with a Reaper. Reaper? Ye'ah a reaper--it's not a coax Ames White has more then a damn share of hidden secrets stuffed up in a dark closet. Michael also insinutated haunted clouded questions contain answers that involve in the massacre of this weird might as well call it more of a hunt. It initiated the time David [Now Alec] migrated as Alec shallow flashbacks are as random as from the beginning but it increases more in the now. Unsettled blurr flashbacks status have intervene an unleashed seed and/or taunted truth.-----------[Where Ever Home Is] Max, Alec [Wheel in the Sky] 2Biological standards we're aware his birth name is [David] but it doesn't matter though--he breathes, exists and walks as Alec similar to the effect as Max a trained Manticore transgenic assassin escapee. A heightened "dangerous" quoted transgenic - except for he rather it he's called genetically empowered "Freak Nation." Brainwashed-slated cut clean of zero acknowledge of that past life--or does it? A pausible evidence there is minimal chance he's retained a stead-control handle has been an attempted series of questions as of late speaking now before weeks in Alec stumble across Springfield Missouri. Second month kicked-in his recruit process inside a damn mundane crucial governed ordered system, freakiest crap crashed havoc in obssessed pursuit of an obvious predetermined attention-as ifin fate had it's foul hand with a partner that allured him into Manticore. Imagine a ordane priest looking idiot cloaked. SOB obtained ugliest set of yellow hues. Manticore's brainwash convience BOOM! Never did that freak visited him again--or did it? Far as he is concerned meanwhile Manticore did a damn bang-up job there's a mishap in their malicious underground methods that was over-looked. --it is impossible to brainwash our DNA [genes] subconscious gut instincts gushed a rush each time Alec's been tested with a random supernatural hunt that's been involved in defending his current kind [trangenics like Max], or just about anyone. Samuel Campbell claimed in blunt informed words that under a predistined route integrated into who he's become forgetting that he obtains other obligations past on through DNA genes aren't gonna remain in silence. Those constant visions? Is what the hell those were--another words if Max an himself are going to keep up their bargain of protecting their kind--they've also got to hunt evil sons of bitches too everyone is effected. Suttle weak manifesting rockin' noise ached reimburst attention. An assumed muscular auto-shape disguised under a pressured piece of motor hoggish rag tarped over. Winter is here again oh Lord, Haven't been home in a year or more. I hope she holds on a little longer, sent a letter on a long summer day Made of silver , not clay. Ooh, I've been runnin' down this dusty road. Ooh, the wheel in the sky keeps on turnin' I don't know where I'll be tomorrow Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'. I've been trying to make it home Got to make it before too long. Ooh, I can't take this very much longer, no I'm stranded in the sleet and rain. Don't think I'm ever gonna make it home again The mornin' sun is risin' It's kissing the day. Ooh, the wheel in the sky keeps on turnin' I don't know where I'll be tomorrow Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'....Journey's beats were abit off.  A spontaneous broken record unleashed with each increased volume tapped that gravitated Alec's stead-fast awokened curious demeanor. Slained expression wrinkled against his manly forehead while his ocean blue hues an unknown covered vehicle until he swiftly peels it with a vast motivated suspense rush. You know the feeling at the drawn second your adrenaline triggered to that anticipation mode and wait isn't an option. Music stauls more or less phased as if the appeal is satisfied of obtained success in producing an attentive statement after grabbing at Alec's attention.[Where Ever Home Is] Max, Alec [Wheel in the Sky] 3 Re-introduced zooming in on those notorious vigorous manly rubber soles degraded distilled pavement isolated underneath a mega-hot sweet set of firestone wheels, so the hood could use some reinstalled repairs but man her engine will purr after he gets his hands under it. Identical zest for thirst in life a solid black Impala -don't get your panties in knots. It isn't the same but she'd pass for a twin. "Max..." Alec's full-toned notorious voice semi-echoed at initiated claim of Max's full attention adjusted towards his direction, just about a adjacent cock-eyed vacant right in about ten inches across of the two enlarge towered apartment buildings on the opposite side. " There isn't a whole lot for you to go on. What I am getting at as far as a referrence to you're trust in me after nothing spoken in months about the time after I had left. Hell...I can't even dig enough reasons not to blame you. It is important you understand that it wasn't me having zero interest in our team. Matter of fact to be open about it---it was more of an aim to protect everyone else around me until I figured out this none-stop burden that's been consistent inside my head for the past year. There is this man Samuel Campbell, he claimed when making himself clear that this life during an after the whole Manticore scenario wasn't going to be the one thing important or set in a "pre-destined" route. Protect other transgenics that are like us Max we're going to have do our business to eliminate all the evil sons of bitches as we possibly can." continued but brief he discussed in progressed explainations. Alec strains a vivid scatter of his broad-dark manly hues as he'd articulate semi stimulated straches abruptly against his upper left jaw-line with the stub edge of his middle finger.Stimultaneous motioned shifts staked about over his broad muscular left shoulder where his ocean blue hues claims Max's---he reaches out for a claimed handle of her lower region of her slender female arm, bout an inch below the rim of her petite elbow he was clever an slick in stealing her attention. " Your question earlier? Whether or not I wanted to be out of reach of you? Yeah...don't think so. It wasn't what I wanted either Max...as long as we're on a out in the open kick here. I'll be up front about being attracted to you but never did I thought I was "good" enough." Alec exhaled sighs escaped in sync with a blunt confession outta both ends his broad nustrils and manly folds. And as far as he is concerned Max has been his woman-a semi motioning mischief trademark smirk reserves in the dent of his manly folds corners while he invited Max's enticeable curvacious woman figure into his masculine textured manly arms.

The Playby: I am not Kate Beckinsale. I do not claim to be I am just using her likeness to bring Isabella to life; please understand that. If you can't then i wonder how you managed to get through my usually strict screening and would ask you to remove yourself and save me the trouble of doing so. I do know how to use the delete button and im not afraid of doing so. RP Presence:I am not on all the time, there are times I log on do nothing and leave, there are times i log on and post bulletins and little else it's my prerogative, i do what i feel like. Do not start asking where your replies are or moan that I haven't read something because my messages often go days before i can be bothered to open them, then again I might just be being a bitch as usual. Im not the kind of person that goes chasing after their comments but there comes a time when I will just get bored of waiting. There are a few exceptiosn to this rule, those people know who they are. RP Style: I role play in first and third person, if you have an objection to first or third let me know and I will tailor my replies to you. My chosen format ranges from para to multi para and at times I have been known to do novella. The one thing I really don't like is one liner's. I will do them for a while then all interest drops; I need something to work with after all.  OOC:I am a private person, what I chose to reveal is up to me and if you start asking me things that I don't want to answer I will shut you down pure and simple although some days ill just ramble my head off. Eh you pay your money you take your chances. But i will ask you to respect that this is a role play profile, therefore I come to role play not to be asked about my life. Again there are exceptions to this rule, those people already know who they are, iv being rping Isabella Sky for about four years now so I have people i consider friends on other sites and one so far that has ventured here, they are pretty much exempt from every rule. Yeah sure there will be some that take liberty with that. Some OOC will always be required for discussing story line potential but outside the realm of sl I wont go there. Messages Vs Comments:Messages are for discussions comments are for role play. I won't hide my role play in messages because I don't believe it is a sordid thing to be ashamed of. I take great pride in my writing, I happen to think that I am not bad at it. Of course there are some exceptions to the rule but those people already know who they are. If necessity dictates I will role play in blogs. Age Disclaimer:I am over the age of 18 and it is my choice to decide that i will not be rping with any character that acts like a five year old. Guess what i can fight, i can swear and i can fuck with the best of them. I like my storylines to be more than just a banal word play, it should be engaging and i believe that is hard to do with younger role players so they will be removed from my list if they slip past the screening process. This profile will role play mature subjects so yes there will be swearing, violence, sex etc. Stealing:I would like to state that Isabella's bio has been constructed from the voices inside my head, you know the ones that dont like you. Yes you, they like me, their my voices of course they like me. As adults id like you to respect that i took the time to come upwith things on my own, that i took time and effort to put words together and try and spill the contents of my head onto the page. If your a role player you will understand that, let your own imagination run free after all thats why you are here. I spend time editing my pictures, im not saying they are fantastic but i found them, i worked on them for the reason of making them look a little different. Go search the web its why they invented search engines. This page is protected by copyscape, stealing will result in deletion no questions asked. Drama/Godmoding:I have been role playing for over four years, writing even longer than that and i am well aware that drama is an integral part of any story line but that doesn't mean I want it constantly. Don't go throwing you shit at me. Work it into the storyline. In saying that I accept drama, it's only in character. Please don't come at me with he did this she did that I don't want to listen to it. My time is precious I want to enjoy it not play devils advocate. Godmoding should be kept to a minimum. Like I said I have been writing for long enough and I am more than capable of controlling for myself please dont try to do it for me, it gets my goat. Spying: My comments are covered for aesthetic reasons only and for the fact that the comments on my page are really only meant for my eyes it is my profile after all so why would whats written be there for you to read. In saying that i know people are still going to pry, enjoy there is nothing in there i am ashamed off. I have written with some very talented writers before and I have nothing to hide but really id rather you came to my profile to write than just pry. Im a pretty open and honest person and it pisses me off when my page hits jump double digits yet there is no comments being left. Relationships: Realtionships happen by  mutual consent. I don't like being pushed into things, I do things at my own pace I hope you can respect that. Isabella will be faithful. Just like her writer she doesn't believe in cheating, she has enough self respect for herself and the person she is involved with to remain faithful.  My relationship is my business and no one else but my rp partner please repsect our privacy as the case maybe. Death: Isabella is under my control, that means she will only be dying in a mode of my choice. Come at me all you want but i wont let you chose when to terminate her life. I do not abide by people announcing my death etc, get a grip people. Thank you for taking the time to read these, im really not a bitch sometimes its just better to lay out expectations and guidelines at the start. I really am a friendly person, so please feel free to drop me a message and we can work out storylines. Isabella's Writer.

R U L E S:1. Disclaimer: I am not Emma Watson. I'm just a fan of hers; Honestly if I were to be her I really don't think I would be on here roleplaying myself; I think Emma has more important things to do than be on myspace roleplaying herself. Common sense, people- This isn't real. I am also not affiliated with her in any shape or form. I am just using her face for roleplaying purposes only. So don't even think about asking me.2. I'm a multi-para roleplayer, I cannot do novella that is too long for me to write..sorry not sorry.3. Storylines: If you want to discuss a storyline please send me a message, or a comment either one is fine.4. Relationships: It will date anyone if you are interests in my character, if not oh well sh*t happens right? I do ship Dramione, but that doesn't mean I can date other characters.5. Real Life: I am 27 years, I work part-time and I am also a mother of a 3 year old son; I'll reply once I have a free time or when I am off from work.6. Sex+:  We're all mature adults here so sex is fine with me.7. Grammar and Spellings: Nobody in this effin' world is perfect so i make a lots of mistakes when it comes to writing starters and replies. If my starter or reply doesn't make sense just tell me and don't be afraid to come forward please. English isn't my second language. 8. Starters & Replies: If you are interested on a starter we first have to discuss a story-line than once the whole situation is set on the story-line i can send the starter to you or vice versa you can send it to me.When it comes to replies, Some role players burly role play with me so i will be happy if people would role play with me more because every time i get on i don't have jack sh*t in here it's f***ing depressing! So if i end up role playing with a lot of people and i have to reply back please be patient.9. I think that's about it if i miss anything please let me know.If you read so far up to rule #9 Tell me who do you ship of any character in Harry Potter Series; After that Sign your first name,middle name and last name and LEAVE ME KUDOS. Gosh does used to be fun back in myspace 2005. OH that reminds me i come from MYSPACE 2005 so if you do too WELCOME BACK! I'm glad you are back to the ROLE PLAYING WORLD.10. Drama free here, No childish crap allow here.Sincerely,- Hermione Jean  Granger a.k.a.-MIONE.PS: Must follow the rules like i will follow yours.

First and foremost, I am NOT Kristen Stewart nor am I Isabella Swan. She is a made up character from the brilliant mind of Stephenie Meyer. Also, I highly doubt Miss. Stewart has time to roleplay. If you ask me if I am either one, I will delete you.1. I am a literate roleplayer. Please keep that in mind. I'm not going to be grr about it, but ALSO keep in mind that what you send me, you will get in return. If you send me a paragraph, which I pray to GOD that you don't, that is what you shall receive. 2. I'm a veteran roleplayer. What that means is that I have been around since 2007. BEFORE Novella was cool, BEFORE everyone cared about their layouts and who was snooping around. BEFORE people cared about how their pictures were. What it boils down to is this: I know what I'm doing when it comes to roleplay.3. The whole you add you start rule is bullshit. 4. DO NOT STEAL MY SHIT! You'll be blacklisted with the quickness. Everything is tagged with my name and my user ID. Please. For the love of God do NOT steal. If you see something of mine and you like it, ASK and I will make you something if I have time.5. Twilight Verse is full of drama. We ALL know that. Don't bring that to me. I'm 23 in real life and will NOT get into an argument over the computer with a little 14 year old.6. Speaking of.. NO TEENY BOPPERS! At least 18 please.7. I don't mind accepting/adding other Bella's. NO, that doesn't mean that I'm going to steal your stuff. I add and talk to everyone. I ask that you please go over rule number four if you are a Bella or anybody else.8. I take my time with replies and starters. I also believe in quality over quantity. Please be patient when it comes to replies and starters as I do have a real life. Also messages are for sl discussion. Comments are for roleplaying. The only way I'll roleplay in messages is if it's with my Edward ;D9. Have fun. We're all here for the same thing. Please just keep that in mind. Regardless of what you think, we are all here to write. I'm not here to sit at a computer and make my layout better than other people's or my pictures better than others. We come to roleplay to escape real life. Roleplay shouldn't be filled with drama UNLESS IT IS STORYLINE MATERIAL. Again, keep that in mind with me. *Update*As I have stated, I do not like drama so please don't bring that to me. I'm literally Switzerland. Regardless if you're a friend or not, I like to hear both sides of the story. If I'm not there to actually see what has happened, I will NOT take sides. That would be wrong of me to do so. I will do my best to try and help in any way that I can for both sides. It's not because I'm being nosy or butting my head where it doesn't belong. I'm an old fashioned roleplayer. I like peace between everyone. Of course, that isn't going to happen but I like to do my part to assist in a calm and stress free environment for all. Now if you're my friend and you approach me saying block so and so or don't talk to so and so, don't expect me to do that. I talk to EVERYONE. I don't care if I talk to you and you don't like who else I talk to. Who I speak to has nothing to do with you. Unless someone is coming at me personally, I won't pass judgment. Please keep that in mind. I'm an adult in RL and I handle situations as an adult should. I just ask that you do the same ♥

DO NOT DO THIS!

NOTE: I am not, nor do I know, Georgie Henley. I use her to show to other writers what I believe Lucy to look like. Of course, her being in the films just made it easier. But regardless. I am not Georgie! And if you think I am... Why? oo1. I am a multi-para/novella roleplayer. What this means is that I do not write one liners. I won't respond to one liners, plain and simple. I like to write a story. While I do state I can do novella, sometimes I struggle. But never fear, I will always be able to handle doing multi-para.oo2. The Edits you find on my page and in my albums are edited all by me. Which means, do not steal my work. The layout I use was created by a rec site. You can find the credit on my page if you look hard enough.oo3. No godmodding, no automodding, frankly, no modding at all. Don't control me. Don't control Lucy. I can handle it pretty well myself, thanks.oo4. Delaying in replies/starters MAY happen.I have a very busy life in RL. I work Mon-Fri in the afternoon. I volunteer at a church on Wednesdays and I have a social life. Do not think I'm ignoring you, because I'm not. Real Life has a tight hold on me, but I'm trying to loosen the load so I can get back into writing once again.oo5. Stealing is a huge no-no for me. I will learn of it, and when I do, I will report and block you. End of story.Stated already in a previous rule. Just don't do it.oo6. Lucy will not be showing you the way into Narnia. Lucy isn't your guide. I'm opened to many connections, but Hogwarts is not one of them.Here's the thing. Sure, Lucy found Narnia in a wardrobe, but here's the thing. Lucy isn't your compass to Narnia. She can't just willingly take you there. I'm opened to other worlds entering Narnia (i.e Lord of The Rings for example) but don't assume she can show you to Narnia. I'm very opened, however, to some connections with Once Upon a Time roleplayers.oo7. Romantic relationships.Yes, they will happen. Lucy was seventeen in the last battle. She's grown up, she's opened to relationships. With that being said, I do enjoy myself some Caspian/Lucy. I am opened to Lucy/OC, but it has to be good. I won't write sex scenes. Thanks, but no thanks.oo8. No harming my girl.Lucy will not be the victim of your kidnapping, rape, or murder storyline. I simply won't do it. The only time I will accept kidnapping is if it's a good way for the storyline. Say Lucy got captured and has to break free, or something. But I will not victim my girl to Rape or Murder. That's just insane.oo9. Spelling and grammar.This is important to me! while I understand some people still might struggle (I, myself still do) please take the time to proof-read your starter/reply. I like to make sense of what I'm replying to.oo10. I'm a Narnia/Fantasy writer.Which means, obviously, that I will write with the general of Fantasy writers. Once Upon a Time, The Lord of the Rings, etc. I'm welcomed to Game of Thrones arc, if we can manage it and make it happen.oo11. Mains.I understand that, yes, mains are important. However, I don't easily make someone my mains. I like someone who understands their character. Who understands them and gets them and has fun writing them. Being fun out of character is always nice, too. At the moment (1.15.2016) I have one main and I am more than ready to welcome more.oo12. I roleplay both eras. Book and Film.I've read the books, I loved them. I've seen the movies, loved them just as much. If you want to write from anywhere, please don't be afraid to ask. I love writing both!oo13. Mature themes can and will happen.Now, I don't mean Lucy will swear like a sailor and strip, heavens no. But what I mean is, there could easily be blood and gore moments. Depressing moments. I do enjoy battles and writing them are so much fun. I don't mind swearing, but Lucy will not do it.oo14. Drama.In-Character drama? Yes! Let's go for it! Bring on the dramatic scenes and woes! Out-Of-Character drama? No, thank you. You can leave that at the door and don't bring it in with you. I've already dealt with drama before and I will not stay with it. Cause drama and I will disappear faster than you can type Aslan.oo15. I've been roleplaying Lucy since 2007. Yes. That's almost ten years of writing as Lucy. Now, I do not count myself as the original Lucy. I started back on MySpace and at one point, had my name set to "The Original Lucy Pevensie" due to the fact that old Lucys had disappeared and for awhile, I was the only active one. I later moved to SiteModel, becoming the first Lucy there. I then relocated to here, roleplayer.me. I was the first one created here, as well. As such, I do like to claim the title as the first Lu on SiteModel/RPM. But trust me on this, I think I'm sure I know how to write Lucy. She's a little part of me that's blossomed into something beautiful. Narnia/Lucy is a big part of me, I will not lose it. Keep to these terms and we'll get along nicely!

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I am not Oliver Phelps, do not claim to be. Nor am I George Weasley, he's a fictional character. I am just a roleplayer, and do this solely for entertainment purposes. 1.) I am a para/multi-para  rper. Please don't send me one liners, they tend to get boring. I have no problem with them if we are just chatting and goofing off. During role play I would appreciate the same in return, if I take the time to write out one or two paragraphs at least try and send back the same. Nothing is more insulting than spending ten to fifteen minutes or more doing a rather good reply/starter and getting a dismal one in return.2.) Please use English.. and try to use quotation marks when speaking. If I can't make out what your saying I will not answer you. Please use third or second person, first person annoys me. And NO text talk..3.)I am not a MSRP. I will not have more than one girlfriend. I will rp with you but I will not form a romantic relationship with you. I may shag you if I'm single, but that's about it. I will not rush into a relationship, I want to rp with the person and see if we click. If and when I choose a girl, she will be my only and I will not cheat and expect the same in return. Would prefer a Katie Bell or Verity (as long as playbys are a curvy pretty blond)4.) I am an adult rp, so there will be adult themes in my rps. Including Sex, alcohol, swearing. If any of this offends you, please message me and I will try and keep it out of our rp. With that said do not hack my comments, you may see the above and I don't want to hear you bitch. This is your warning.5.)I only rp in comments, messages are for ooc stuff. Please don't comment me or message me asking if I want to rp. Please just send a starter, for I'm not the best at them, but will try if I have too. A side note, I will not go too ooc with you. Theres only a select few I will. I do have aim, I will give it to those that wish. But DO NOT im me with petty shit and to entertain you, I WILL NOT drop everything to be your personal 'court jester'.6.) Drama.. please keep ooc drama away from me. I don't want to hear it, I'm here to have fun not get depressed (again only my close mates I'll deal with this.). Drama in rp is fine as long as it isn't too over the top. 7.)Picture comments, whore for whore, ect.. I will do just let me know. I do get behind so if I forget message me and remind me nicely and I will get to it.8.) I do not like rp that Fred dies, that is depressing. And please before sending me a Deathly Hallows starters message me to discuss it first. I will Rp that I lost an ear.If you've read these, sign with "George is more wicked than Fred." and your favorite WWW product. That's all I can think of, I'll add more as I think of them.