This thread is simply for the bad guys from my Camelot thread. Anyone interested in the thread please go to the thread titled "Camelot 2001: The Return of Heroes" and it will tell you how to join.
Mordred/Kyle Manning
Slamming the door behind him, Kyle came back into the apartment and threw his books on the ground. "Well, that fuckin' seals it!"
Mike looked up from the couch where he was rolling a couple of joints on the coffee table. "Blew the Calc test, AA?"
"Blew it?! That bitch, Williams, wouldn't even let me take it. I showed up a half-hour late and she told me to see her in her office on Thursday, where we would discuss my future in her class. I would have been home earlier, but I stopped off at Hanley's for a couple of beers to wash away my tears."
"Tears? The last time I saw you cry was when we ran out of liquor on a Sunday, and you had to go to bed sober."
"Whatever...," Kyle started sarcastically, "but let me tell you one thing. If that Ms. Williams thinks she can fuck me over, she's got another thing coming to her. Now light up one of those, while I get us some beers."
A feminine laugh behind Kyle as he had his head stuck in the fridge made him look up and behind him. The sight that met his eyes was out of the ordinary to say the least.
Mike was lying on the couch where Kyle had left him and he seemed to be frozen in the position of lighting up. The match still burned and was slowly working it's way down to his fingers but he was not moving at all. The rolled up joint was put to his lips and he seemed to be staring off into space.
Standing behind the couch and leaning on it in a rather seductive manor was a woman that Kyle had never seen before. Or had he? At the sight of her, something inside of her struggled to come to the surface. It was the woman that the laughter had come from.
As he stood, seemingly frozen himself, she looked up at him and greeted him with what could only be described as an maliscious grin.
"Well, dear, dear nephew, it seems as if you have not changed a bit through the centuries. Good. I need your devious mind and your avoidance of petty things such as truth and mercy. And this time we wont have any problems in meeting our goals. Because we already have the one thing that will get us what we want. We have Arthur."
Not giving him a chance to reply, she held up her hand and it seemed that light arced from her hand to surround him in a painful, brilliant display. As his body jerked with the electricity that ran through it, visions begin to flood his head. Visions of knights in armor, of battles and betrayals of a monarch whom he hated and knew to be his father. A name came to him...Mordred and he knew it to be his own.
With one last realization as he looked at the woman, he suddenly knew her name. Morgan Le Fae. His aunt! After that unconsciousness took him and he sank into darkness, the sound of her laughter the last that fell upon his ears.
After what seemed like days, he finally opened his eyes to see himself in a large circular room with no windows or doors. A table sat before him with every food imaginable as well as liquids both alcoholic and non alcoholic. The furnishings...couch, chairs, paintings, etc were worth alot of money, Kyle could see that at first glance.
He could also see that he was quite alone but he had the feeling that that was soon going to change.
deke/sir garlin
i stand atop the cieling that is across from my next targets...to think i was getting paid to off a few dea goons.... i don't care how long someone's record is. i'll kill em anyway. fuck these jerks.
i get my rifle and i shoot the guy standing in from of the roof access. next i trail down to the asshole staring out the window of the 12th floor. when i fire i see an immediate cloud of red appear where his head used to be i know he isn't gonna tell anybody anything.
what's left of his brain slides out and happens to land on a kid. the little bastard makes to shriek so i shoot him in the throat. i just loved when potentially clean kills went all messy.
i leaped the distance to the lower roof of the other building. nice and quiet. i stealthily make my way down the roof access stairs and into the building. i sling my rifle over my shoulders and pull out two black hawk lugars. these babies were my fun toys. they served no other purpose then to create a nice delicious splatter of blood wherever it struck flesh. equipped with the silencers i had to have custom made for them they were ugly brutes. i hear another dea goon coming up the stairs and let realization hit home that he was dead. i put two shots from each pistol into his midsection...he went down like a baby i though to myself.
the next sunuvabitch i took out with a behind shot into his stomach and into his throat. he'd live a little while suffering as he watched his own blood pool before him as his eyes glazed over.
the next few actually get it violently as i come across three in one room.
one more left as i run the count in my head. i see him and let him draw his gun...he's terrified...here i am covered in blood, but none of it's mine. he can sense that his friends are splattered all over my sr-7 kevlar vest and camo. it doesn't matter if he screams. no one will come running now.
i fire a shot into both his arms and they fall. the right arm holding the gun hits the wall and bounces to the floor behind the man as he stares at his left arm hanging by mere sinew. blood is poouring from the bastards stumps, but i'm not through with him yet. the agony hasn't begun to end with this one. i fire bith pistols into his left knee blowing it out from under him and he fals to the ground. he's crying. pleading for me to kill him now. instead i make him suffer more. as i take the other leg off. his blood is all over my face now. yet i still don't blink. i fire a shot into his stomach. letting him feel how it is to have a pic of jagged searing hot metal rip through his gut. i decide to kill him as his eyes start to glaze and his crys for mercy have lowered to whimpers. i fire two more round into his chest and the in a curve. i'm tempted to cut have a nice day into his body under the smiley face i've shot into him.
i leave the building through the front. still drenched in blood i walk the streets to my car about a block away. the columbians paid more than my normal fees for this bloodbath. something didn't smell right. they could've easily done this themselves...
i decide to go back to the villa of the bastard that had some explaining to do. i dbl checked to make sure i reloaded everything. i might need it again soon.
i ride the rest of the way with the window down and the warm wind drying the agents' mixed blood on my face.
i was going to get my questions answered even if i had to do it the hardway.....
As Deke enters the building where he had his first contact with the Columbians, he sees it is empty. Or at least appears that way at first. Upon looking a second time, he realizes that there is someone here. A woman and one that looks very out of place here. She is wearing a very smart business suit and not a hair is out of place. She is also smiling at him and it sends warning signals throughout Dekes body.
"Do you realize just how much revenue you have just cost me?," She said in a cold voice in way of greeting. "But dont worry. You will be making that up ten fold with the job I have for you."
Her right hand shoots out and light arcs from it before Deke can even react. In the back of his mind, he notes that she had to be pretty fast to pull that off.
As the lightening strikes cover and encompass him, he finds his body jerking and flailing and his mind reeling with sudden visions. Visions that seem all to familiar. Visions of knights and battle and defeat...his own. The taste of the bittersweetness of that defeat sits heavily on his tongue even as he realizes who the woman before him is....Morgan Le Fae. And then the name that seems his own rings through. Sir Garlon....The Invisible Knight.
"Ahhh...I see your memory is complete," Morgan says as she sees understanding dawn,"Well you will have a short time to get used to it before you are to accomplish your mission. I suggest you use the time well."
At that, Deke finds himself slipping into the darkness of unconsciousness...Morgan's laughter the last thing he is conscious of.
When he wakes, his body aching and his mind reeling, he will see that he is in a circular room with no windows or doors. One other person is there and looking as confused as he. A table laden with food occupies the middle of the room and furnishings that scream wealth decorate the floor and walls.
He grimly realizes that there is no escape from this place.
Michael/The Green Knight
Walking down a cold sterile hallway, michael came up to a door witht he words "Commander Hank Scott". Michael looked up at the sign and scoffed. Opening the door and stepping inside, there was a man sitting in a chair behind a desk. "Sir! You requested to see me?" Michael said trying to keep his rebelious tone inwards. "What kind of a fucking stunt do you think you were trying to pull up there, Leutenant(sp?)???" the commander yelled as he began to turn red in the face. "Don't think because you are some hotshot pilot it will stop me from Courtmarshaling you! It doesnt matter who your father was, how good you think you are! That was your 2nd strike! one more and you are out of here! now do you understand me Leutenant?!" commander Scoot said as he stood up from his chair with anger in his blood. "Yes Sir!" Michael said with a very slight smirk on his face. It was taking all his concentration not to start something.
"Good, now get the hell out of my office!" He yelled, as Michael turned around and walked out.
"I can't wait to wipe the smirk of that guys face..." Michael said as he made it outside. It was a fairly hot day and being on an air force base covered in concrete didnt help but all that he could do was leave. And he was more then happy too.
Walking over to his motocycle, Michael put on his black sunglasses, started up his bike and road off, heading towards the city in the far far distance.
As Michael drove down the road, he found his eyes moving amongst the people as if he was expecting to meet someone which was ridiculous. Still, he could not shake the feeling that he was riding towards something.
It was when the bolts of light and electricity hit him that he saw her. A beautiful woman in a crisp business dress and with a most disturbing smile on her face. As the electric force grabbed him, his bike slide out from under him and his whole body skidded across the pavement and into a brilliant display of explosions. Yet he was still alive.
His head seemed to explode next as visions ran past his eyes. Visions of a challenge and acceptance by a knight. Visions of past centuries that played out as if they were his own memories. And a name linked with this The Green Knight. And somehow he knew that title belonged to him.
With one last flash of realization, he knew who the woman was and that she was not a good omen. Morgan Le Fae. With that knowledge, darkness encompassed him and he knew only the sound of a bitter laughter in his ears.
Upon waking what seemed ages after that, Michael noticed that he was in a room with two others. The room was circular and had no windows or doors. A table in the middle of the room held all kinds of food and the furnishings on the floor and walls were expensive and ment to let everyone know that.
He also realized there was no way to escape where he was.
Jane Doe/Isolde
The doctors looked at her worriedly through the two way lens. She was recovering quickly there had been no sign of her other personalities. nor of her true identity. She had been found wounded an amnesiac and was just another Bosnian refugee until a doctor had heard her speaking perfect english in her sleep. She spoke of a husband and of family. He had pulled some strings and after time she was taken to London. There she began to manifest multiple personalities. It was obvious she had been under alot of stress. But what had she endured to create all these escapes they could only theorize. After much treatment her personalities began to subside , but left behind was a lady that had no memory of her past and no wish to leave the hospital. She was extremely beautiful. And her personalities had displayed everything from a south texan housewife, a Algerian mercenary and a new york high society call girl. The central personality had no name, she responded to what she read on her chart once and accepted the name 'jane'. Jane was friendly , personable and seemed to adapt to whomever was talking to her. The doctors soon discovered that she was purposely giving answers she thought they wanted to hear. Dr. Liscan sighed as he went over her files again. They were running out of treatments and he had started grasping at straws. Sooner or later she would have to be transferred. He hoped she would respond to the latest treatment well and perhaps return to a 'normal' life.
Later that night, Jane Doe heard a feminine chuckle at the foot of her bed. Looking down, she can see a woman dressed in a crisp business suit, her red hair pinned back from her face.
"Poor, poor little Isolde. So many things are happening to you. Both now and in the centuries past. You simply cant win, can you deary? Well, lets not make this an exception to the rules, shall we?"
With that, her hand shot up in the air and light flashed from it to encompass the woman on the bed and send her body reeling into jolts from the electricity. The name that the woman before her had said..Isolde..seemed to ring through her mind over and over again and, somehow, she knew it to be hers.
At that realization, visions flooded her sight. Visions of two men, turmoil over her...love and despair and the final blow of her true love dying. At that moment, she knew who the woman before her was and the name came to her along with a sense of dread. Morgan Le Fae.
The name as well as the laughter of the woman followed her into unconsciousness...darkness gathering to blanket her in it's welcome release.
When she awoke, she saw that she was in a circular room with no windows or doors. Three men were already there. A long table laden with food and drink was in the middle of the floor and the furnishings on both the floor and walls were esquisite as well as expensive.
She realized, too, that there was no escape from this room.
Delaney/Guinivere
The drive home was proving to be fairly uneventful...... She had been sooo happy to finally get out of that awful costume. Her eyes narrowed as she remembered to call her so called agent when she got home.
She sighed with relief as home finally came into view. Buying the old house had been one of the best decisions that she had ever made. She had hired workers to professionally restore it. She smiled as she pulled in the driveway...
She practically jumped out of the car and ran up the steps...... deciding that she needed a nice warm bubblebath..
Climbing the stairs... she decided thats exactly what she would do
Laughter behind Delaney in what should have been an empty house, made her pause on the stairs and turn around.
At the foot of the stairs stood a lovely lady in a crisp business suit. Her red hair was swept back and pinned neatly into place and the look upon her face as she looked up at Delaney could only be described as maliscious.
"Well, it looks as if our little queen couldnt break free of her pitiful role even after all these centuries. Still stuck in the role of the misunderstood wife and unfaithful lover? Perfect. You will fit into my plans just fine."
Her right hand shot out and bolts of light and electricity seized Delaney's body and encompassed her in jolts of energy. As he head was thrown back and the wind knocked out of her, visions of an age past came to her more vivid than any play. Scenes of love and betrayal, death and destruction came to her. Two faces swam before her...one wearing a crown and the other the helmet of a knight. Love for each manifested itself as well as a sundering of her heart once again. For, at that moment, she understood. She was Guinivere. This was her calling in life to be that woman once again.
As darkness overcame her, she also realized with a deep loathing who the woman in her home was. Morgan Le Fae. And she realized that she was in the grip of an enemy. Morgan's laughter followed her into oblivion.
When she awoke, sore and visions still vivid in her mind, she found herself in a circular room with no doors or windows. Three men and a woman were there also. There was a table laden with food and furnishings that looked as if they were straight from a magazine on the houses of the wealthy.
Within the center of the circular stone room, a shimmering mist forms. It hovers in mid-air, cloudy tendrils cascade to the cold stone floor. The mist stretches and expands, solidifying to a very distinct female form. A woman stands before you, regal in long dark red velvet robes. The rune inscribed material skims over her lush curves. Her outline shimmers with a delicate aura of sheer magical power. A riotious mass of flaming curls surrounds her luminous face. A face that jolts your memory, filling you with dread. A gloating as yet seductive smile graces that familiar face - a smile that literally chills you to your very bones.
Her dark glittering eyes scan the faces of all in the room, noting the suprised expressions of recognition. A delightfully wicked laugh escapes, her eyes sparkle in great enjoyment. "I presume no introduction is needed then? All of you obviously remember me..." She saunters across the room, her leather clad feet skimming near silently across stone floor. As she passes she emits a perceptible heat, energy literally radiates from her. A hand extends and slim, delicate fingers cup Kyle's chin. Lifting his face, his gaze meets hers. At her touch, a magical warmth from her hands extends the length and breath of his body, holding him paralyzed within its unseen grip. "Some more than others perhaps." Her eyes are alight with excitment, her smile wide in devious delight. "Ahh, my beloved nephew. It has been far too long." She leans foward to press her lips against his in a brief, hard kiss. Releasing her grip and rising, she makes her way to the table of refreshements, her hold upon Kyle disapating within moments of the removal of her touch.
"What? Noone wishes to partake in the refreshements I have so generously provided?" She says in surprise as she pours herself a glass of merlot, glancing over the rim at the others in disapproval. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. One would think you not appreciative of my hospitality."
"Enough with the frivolties. I trust each of you has had sufficent time to recover. You must understand the reasoning for my abrupt visit. The old fool, Emryes, is meddling yet again. The time of awakening is at hand, and there was no time for warning, let alone adequate preparations."
"I need you. I need all of you. Even as pathetically weak as some of you might be," Her hard gaze cuts to the females in the group, "you will prove useful to me... in other ways perhaps. I seem to remember both of you, Isolde and dearest Guinivere are quite skilled at deception. Talented beyond measure with the use of feminine wiles to get your way, no?" A malicious smile widens Morgan's full lips as she buries the barbed comment deeply.
the images keep flashing in my mind. the two lives i have allegedly led, fighting. not wanting to share the space, and stiving for dominance over the other.
all i feel is pain and suddenly 'i'm me...which me...i remember the dea agents....columbia...deke. that's who i am.'
after the woman with the strange entrance pauses from her ramblings that i can't even hear i pull out my blackhawkes and draw a bead on her and watch the other two guys carefully.
"where the fuck am i? what the fuck did you do to me you bitch?!?! all i know is you gave me one mother of a migraine and i'm not very pleased with you. "
"now you put me the fuck back where i was or i start firing." i move one of my pistols to the first guy i had seen in the room. something in me said 'mordred' i disregarded it and forced it out of my head.
"i'm a little sick of all this wierd shit that's been going on. i was contracted for a job that was 10 times easier than what i was told to expect and i'm really fuckin confused as to what the hell is going on..."
suddenly i feel another attack from my other self as it tries for dominance. i can't think and all i feel is piercing pain. i try and kleep my gun aimed at mordred and drop my aim. upon firing at such close range the turkey on the table explodes in pieces of light and dark flesh speckled with bone. the table has a rather large hole in it.
i catch mordreds glance and it's one of sheer terror as he realizes that had been pointed at him and possibly meant for him as well. i pass out...and feel the calmness of the darkness.
after what seems to be an eternity in this black void, i begin to hear noises of battle...but i do not hear gun shots. i hear horses and the sounds of hand to hand combat being fared by sword. suddenly people are dying before me. i hear laughter and recognize it to be my own....
The word bounced through her mind over and over again. Her eyes drifted over the table filled with food, but she wasn't hungry. She was confused...yet she knew everything. She gasped again as the memories came back unbidden. She managed to make it over to one of the chairs in the room and sank down into it.
Her life was a blur. Who was she? Was she Delaney Morgan or Queen Quinivere of Camelot? Was it really possible that she was both? Or maybe this was some sick dream and she was going to wake up at any minute.
She finally looked at the other people in the room...recognition not dawning on who they were.
Isolde sighed as she looked upon the sumptuous banquet before her. Once again she had her memories and was none the happier for it. She cared no that she was trapped. For was it not that she was always trapped. In any life she seemed to be trapped in situations where her life went one way and her heart the other. Her life always ending either through grief or suicide. This time she decided to hell with it all, her last life had taught her the wonders of the world and the fact that you could just walk away. You could be whatever you wanted. Isolde was tired of fortune choosing her course, her life was hers, and if it wasnt then she at least was going to have fun with it. She poured a large glass of wine from the decanter and nibbled on the chilled fruit. She drank the wine deeply and sighed "ignorance 'was' bliss"
There was a brief time where Kyle's mind refused to accept the new reality. When Morgan LeFay touched him, though, his personality that was Mordred came forward with a vengeance. Kyle Manning's body had been a good resting place, but now Mordred was back and Arthur and anyone else who got in his way was going to regret that they ever did him wrong.
After the initial shock from his displacement wore off, Modred looked around the room. So many memories came flooding back into his mind. He smiled. "Now this is fuckin' living!"
Modred stepped over to the table heaped with pleasantries and picked up a glass of wine. "Auntie, dear. A simple reminder might have sufficed. I don't think you needed to stop the world so I could get off. Don't you know how much I look forward to...serving you again."
Just then, the gun-toting guy with the crazy eyes, pulled two guns and began shouting. Didn't he realize that here in Morgan's power zone, he was as ineffective as a fly. The turkey next to Mordred exploded. "Holy Shit!" What was he thinking! The terror on Mordred's face slowly congealed into annoyance. Knowing Morgan, he realized that she probably had anticipated some bad feelings and had conditioned the place appropriately.
"Auntie, Would it be possible for you to help me with this," Mordred asked, indicating his now dirty clothing. "Something perhaps from my old wardrobe, at least while I'm here."
Mordred sent his gaze around the room taking in the occupants. A little thin, he thought, I may have to do some light recruiting. The two ladies, Isolde and Guineviere looked rather appealing. Now there's some useful tools. The gun-toting nut, on the other hand, was a wild card. I wasn't sure once he was let loose whether he could be reined back in again.
Mordred climbed on a chair. "Perhaps my dear Aunt has not been as kind in her greeting as she could have been. I would like to welcome all of you personally. If you cannot place me in your memories, I am Mordred, bastard son of Arthur. I shall have his eternal throne and he shall pay for his weaknesses. Those of you who choose to help my aunt and I will be well rewarded. Please enjoy yourselves for the moment while everything gets sorted out." Stepping down, Mordred feels like his old self. After all leading a rebellion was what he was born for.