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X-treme Wrestling Federation » XWF Live! » Character Development RPs
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Target Acquired
Author Message
Travis Stone
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#1
01-11-2020, 08:54 PM

An elderly gentleman, sits in an armchair, located near a large picture window. Past the glass, it's a warm, sunny day. So warm, you can actually feel the heat of the sun's rays cast upon your face. There isn't a single cloud in the sky either. Birds are chirping and every now and again, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the trees, positioned in various spots on a well kept stretch of lavish emerald green grass that exists beyond the barrier of a paved cement path. It's very beautiful out. Simply the perfect day.

Except this is as far as it goes for the man. Viewing it from the other side of a window and experiencing the limited warmth of the sun, through the glass. As he sits in an easy chair and gazes out. This is as good as it gets from now on. Such is the life when you're old and are forced to live in an assisted care facility. Unable to fully care for yourself, due to medical issues. Nothing more than a pale shadow of your former self. It's tough for anyone to deal with this tragically, cruel fate. For some it's worse than others though. Especially the ones that have been forgotten. Left only with their memories, a chair and a window. Till they fade away and there's nothing more. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

Stepping forth from an elevator, into a long, linoleum tiled hallway, a woman wearing an A line, knee length, navy skirt, white blouse and matching navy jacket, with golden brown eyes and dark chestnut hair, emerged. Seemingly on a mission, she quickly veered to her left and began her journey down the corridor. Accompanied by only the consistent, repeated, sharp clicks of her red high heels. Echoing onward, until they abruptly stopped outside of one of the many white wooden doors, that lined either side of the hall. Open ever so slightly, it only exposed a small sliver of sight into the room, which didn't really give access to what was inside. Not a proper access to its entire inventory anyway. All that could be seen was the end of a bed, with a hunter green, flannel blanket on it, part of a white wall and a portion of a window. That's about it.

Without hesitation, the woman extended her slender arm and knocked three times. In a rapid succession. The response to the sudden disturbance is far from a friendly one. No, this comes across more like a groan of someone struggling to rise up out of a chair, not because they wanted to or even considered the option on their own but because they were forced. It's strained, agitated and very obviously annoyed. The noise you might hear when someone doesn't want to be bothered. A sort of "Go away!" without actually uttering those words. Slippers shuffling across the floor comes next and then the door swings open. Revealing the elderly fellow from the window. Grey hair, sunken ancient eyes and a slight dusting of stubble accenting his face, he wore tan slacks, a white polo shirt and leather slippers, with just as many wrinkles as him. He visibly squinted at his visitor and sighed. There was zero recognition in his eyes. An act that did not discourage his unexpected guest from speaking.

"Hello old soldier. I'm Lenore Lafayette and I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time?"

"You know, it's an insult to call a Marine, a soldier, right?"

"Apologies. I didn't realize veterans still adhered to that."

"Yeah well, once a Marine, always a Marine. Time doesn't change that."

"Good to hear. I was afraid..."

"Afraid of what?"

"They say time can change things. Sometimes even drastically. People get tired, they slow down, get weak."

"The body might betray but the mind always stays sharp."

"If you're one of the lucky ones, are you one of the lucky ones?"

The man sighed with very visible annoyance and answered in a way that expressed the desire to be left alone, without specifically saying those words. He was good at relaying underlining messages like that.

"Yeah, I'm one of the lucky ones."

"Excellent. Then it looks like we made the right call. You're the perfect candidate."

"The perfect candidate? Now hold on here a second. What's this all about? The perfect candidate for what?"

"To return to active service of course."

"Come again?"

"Active duty. Well it wouldn't be for Uncle Sam but rest assured, you would be an operative out in the field. You would be fulfilling the tasks that only a man of your training could accomplish."

"Lady, you're starting to sound more and more nuts, with every passing minute. How would I be able to do this? I'm not a young spring chicken any more. In case you were confused about where you're at this is an old folks home. People come here to die. Not sign up for combat."

"And is that what you did, you came here to die? I thought you said once a Marine, always a Marine."

"When you get old, the body tends to betray you. That's why my kids put me here. To live out the rest of my days and be well taken care of while I do that. Then they promptly forgot that I existed. Real nice. I guess I can't blame them but shit, I raised 'em and this is the thanks that I get. Ehh, why do I bother to complain, it isn't going to change anything."

"What if things could change though? What if you didn't have to be a forgotten war hero? A veteran whose children willingly chose to abandon him? What if you could be so much more?"

"That's a nice fantasy that you cooked up there sweetheart but it ain't real."

"Oh no? What if I told you that you're wrong and it's not only real but it's possible? For you? Right now?"

"I'd say you made the right choice to come to a hospital but you picked the wrong kind. You need the one with doctors for the mind. I live here in the real world and stuff like that, it just doesn't happen. Not for me, not for anyone."

"Suit yourself. I simply thought I'd make the offer to someone that wanted a second chance. To someone that deserved a second chance and would grab life by the balls and conquer the world, if given that opportunity. An opportunity, to reclaim what was taken away and rekindle it, with the fiery sun of a brand new horizon. I suppose I seem I was wrong in that thought. Time does change people. Even Marines that tell themselves that they stay true and remain the same, while their bodies up and betray them."

Lenore turned but before she could walk off, the elderly gentleman spoke.

"Wait. Stop. I'm interested."

"Really?"

Swiftly spinning around, Lenore smiled. With triumph. She knew what she was doing and her plan was a complete success.

"In truth, I hate this place. It makes me crazy. Drives me literally up a wall. Your story sounds too good to be true but on the off chance that it isn't, I wouldn't want to miss out and be the only old guy to turn down a second chance at life."

"It is quite the opportunity. One that not too many receive. You are making the right decision."

"Just tell me something. Lay it on me straight."

"What would you like to know?"

"How? How does it work? How is this possible? How would I get a second chance and what does that even entail specifically? What are the exact details and what can I expect to happen?"

"It's complicated but don't fret. Your questions will be answered, all in due time."



Target acquired
Time - 18:32pm
Date - 01/11/20
Location - Manhattan, New York

Travis Stone stared through the scope of a sniper rifle and watched. His trigger finger, itchy to get the job done and over with yet he didn't pull it, he knew now was not the time. The time was quickly approaching though. Soon this sorry son of a bitch, would be put down, for good. A walkie talkie clipped to his belt, produced a crackle and a woman's voice could be heard. It's very familiar. For it has already been heard several times and despite the fact that she couldn't be seen, it is without a doubt the woman with golden brown eyes and dark chestnut hair. Lenore Lafayette, if that was in fact, her real name. So far she's been connected to two seemingly separate men. What was the end game here and what did they have in common, besides Lenore? More importantly, who or what was the target?

"Did you locate the target?"

"I did."

Travis responded with a single push of a button, leaving the walkie talkie where it was secured.

"And?"

"It's no good. This is going to have to count as recon and nothing more. The mission will have to be carried out on another night."

Once more, Travis replied in the same manner as he did before.

"Understood. Over and out."
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Corey Smith (01-12-2020)




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