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Airman Ashika Mokono
Health Status: 100% Normal
Weapon/s Status: Pistol(Kimber Arms Desert Warrior 1911 pistol)
Ammunition: 4 clips (1 loaded into pistol, 3 in reserve. Used in case of bailout over unfriendly territory as a last resort if E&E does not work.)
Location: Barracks on his way to his VF-1J in hangar
Action: getting a ride to Hangar and putting on flight suit.

Ashika woke up from his sleep with a start. He heard the alarm and rushed to get his flight suit and grab a ride. Fortunately a tech for the Royal Blades was on his way to the squadron hangar to make last minute adjustments and get the squad in the air. "Sir, Do you need a ride?" The tech asked "Yes I do." He said and got into the vehicle, a HMMWV and started to put on his flight suit as they drove toward the hangar. "Do you know the reason for the red alert?" Ashika asked the tech as he put on the flight suit. "No sir. I just heard the alarm and headed toward the hangar." the tech responded.What the heck is going on in this city? Ashika thought to himself as he put on the last bit of his uniform that he could put on in the vehicle. I can't do this alone though. they arrived and Ashika got out of the vehicle putting on his anti-g harness. Heading out to his VF-1J he checked the flight surfaces and weapons for anything that was out of the ordinary. They had armed the plane while he was on his way to the hangar. He loaded his pistol, pulling back the slide and releasing it loading a round in the chamber. He put the safety on and slid it into a shoulder holster. He climbed into the cockpit and idled the engines of his fighter and waited for the rest of the squadron.

[OOC] I'd like to state that I am going to be issuing merits and demerits for what you do, based on if you followed protocol (Don't worry too much, demerits don't actually mean much aside from maintaining the ASDF's IC professionalistic attitude.)

There are more people (And more reasons) than this, but I'm on a tight time budget right now and so I can't go through and issue them all.

• Demerit: Bundermunny - Calling an alert for out of jurisdiction event.
  
• Demerit: Bundermunny - Calling an improper alert code.
  
• Demerit: Talon22 - Removing armor in an active combat zone.
  
• Demerit: Talon22 - Lowering weapons against active hostiles - Waived for unreasonable burden
  
• Demerit: Talon22 - Negotiating with hostage takers - Waived for unreasonable burden.
  
• Demerit: Talon22 - Failure to shoot to kill a hostage/hostage taker - Waived for unreasonable burden.
  

The "Failure to shoot to kill a hostage/hostage taker" one isn't something most people will understand unless it's explained first:
Hostages don't survive. It just doesn't happen.
If the person who's holding them hostage is allowed to escape with them, their chances of survival drop to as close to zero as is functionally possible. Alive, they put a strain on the criminal's ability to move, increase conspicuousness, increase the requirement for supplies, and attempt to get help at every chance.
Free, they're expected to immediately go to the police for assistance and tell them everything they know.
Dead, they can be hidden in a ditch somewhere and not discovered until months later.

By opening fire on somebody who has taken a hostage, you make it very clear that the hostage isn't going to provide them as much protection from bullets as they thought. The criminal is more likely to be captured, the hostage is actually more likely to come out of it alive, and it sets a very clear precedent that taking hostages is the exact opposite of a smart thing to do. If it's common knowledge that taking a hostage means you get MORE bullets flying at you, then you just won't do it. With the aid of media coverage, this policy can permeate society and form an effective deterrent against attempts in the future.
Obviously, the ideal result is the hostage fine and the criminal not, but trying to pull that off makes success less assured.

Given that life insurance on Gaia tends to cover resurrection costs, it's FAR less of a problem than it is in real life.

As for why it was waived, nobody you would expect to shoot their friends deserves to wear any kind of military uniform.[/OOC]

{{Thank you for the explanation ma'am. Although, is the ASDF responsible for handing out demerits to soldiers not in its branch? Just wondering...but I guess I did put ASDF personel at risk}}

The cold water of the sprinklers brought Talon to his senses and he snapped to an upright position in a panic. I let him get away... He fumbled around, clamping his armor back into place and picked up the remains of his helmet. "Toast...Damn." The quartermaster would have his head for ruining such expensive equipment. All of the elctronics were fried, the inner padding burned out and the visor was shattered. He picked up his pistol and slung his rifle back over his shoulder, he couldn't let the mutant get too far with Eileen.

Talon's muscles burned something awful as he limped from the show room, following the downtowners trail once again, but he was too far gone...

{{It's ok, maybe our version of CENTCOM can issue the demerits, making them universal?}}

~Barton Coast - Beach House~
The female figure leans back away from the tripodded binocular and looks toward a middle aged male sitting in a leather couch. He had black gel-ed hair covering the right side of a pair of purple eyes. He had the look that similars to Reno from FF7: Advent Children. Wore expensive set of clothing that consists of black corfram dress shoes, dark grey pants, black pin stripe white dress shirt and a sloppy dress coat. The man seems to be the leader of this group. He was the next heir in line to the slgithly rich and surviving mafia in downtown. He was refered to as the Panther for his ability to get to his destination, use his alchemist like ability to stick, literally, things together and redefine their meaning. Complete the job and then leave the area with money in pocket.

Panther waves and nods toward the lady by the binocular to give her report.

The lady, known as Hawk, for her deep red keen eyes that could pick up the slightest movement in quite a distance. Handles her singler fired rifles with great skills and tends to not miss what she intends to shoot as far as 900 yards. She has long black hair that she rolls up into a bun and leaves a portion to hang down slightly past the back of her neck. Long thing bangs that hugged closed across her forehead and hangs over her left ear. She wore more comfortable and breezey outfit. A dark green leather sleeveless top that had one strap that hung over her right should and went across her upper torso and stops with a pointed end right abover her left waist line. Leaving mostly her left shoulder and stomach exposed. Black leather skirt where the front end stops 2/3 down her thigh while the back end goes down a little past the back of her knee. She wore knee high black leather boots that had a small padding piece extending over her knee.

After reporting all that has happened has happened so far within her sight, she returns to the binocular and continues to monitor the many events taking place.

Since Panther wasn't the type to sit down and stay quiet, he would have a one way conversation with a third guy in the beach house.

This third guy was quite large. His name was Boba, and he was hired by Panther's father to protect Panther. He was a towering 7ft tall brick wall full of beefy muscles bulging out in almost every part of his body. He always wore a pair of small sunglasses but big enough to cover his eyes. He was completely bald but had a dark brown bushy mustache and beard. One would think all his hair had fallen down to his face. He wore a tight blue T-shirt along with a comfortable black leather pants. Hanging on either side of his belt were two silver colored metal batons almost as thick as his arms. Boba stays quiet majority of the time someone pisses him off and he wants to talk back.

Boba just nods at the end of every statements and comments Panther makes about anything and everything should belong to him.

The Edana, Port de Gambino

The bad flavor wasn't so bad out here. It was in fact getting better. "Salt~urgle." Monolith observed intelligently underwater. He clung to the hull for a while, scratching his head with his free hand. Even with the irregular, craggy features of what served as the creature's face, the puzzlement on his face was clear: 'What was I doing again?' He let a rumbling growl of frustration escape, along with a plethora of bubbles that he had to squint to see through for a moment. He looked up, and leapt off his makeshift shelf of twisted hull, the power behind those legs enough to carry him above the water level. Then he punched his fists through the hull, and caught himself. "Rrrrrrrr. Air. Guuuud." Water streamed down from the dozens of crevices that composed the topography of his exoskeleton as he questioned himself. "What I do here?"

----
Skies above Isle de Gambino

Being able to fly wasn't all it was cracked up to be, Vic Voltage decided, as he shifted the limp form of Eileen uncomfortably. "Damn bitter cold." He muttered. Half a city's electrical power and he was still cold. It was ridiculous. "No idea how those supers do it....thermal underwear maybe...makes sense." His right arm free of Eileen's weight for the time being, he flexed it and wriggled his fingers slowly and painfully....as well as he could anyways. He seemed reluctant to take his arm too far away from the unconscious woman. Dropping her would be bad. He shifted his feet, carefully keeping the electric ball beneath him. "I really gotta find a way to make a friggin electric truck. Hell...a magic electric carpet would work. Stupid ball."

----
Gaian Airwaves and ASDF Control

Bundermunny had just finished getting reprimanded when the call came, and he hurriedly hopped back into his seat and slapped his headphones on. "Ah, *rustlerustle* *fumble* Ah, ASDF Control to friendly. I copy you, over." He glanced to the side, looking forlornly at the delicious carrots that he hadn't had a chance to finish yet. At least he'd managed not to spill the cup of ranch when he'd rushed off. The young corporal looked with interest at the dressing more, almost asking himself how noticable it would be on the airwaves if he licked a bit of the tasty sauce. He restrained himself barely. Oh the sacrifices one had to make for duty.