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Graves was looking for power, immortality. This had gone far beyond an obsession with a book. Had Graves gone mad? Andrew would have to look at his medical record to figure that out. But why would an author want the Holy Grail? Certainly, everyone did, but why was he looking for it? Could this...

In the year 2030, NASA sent off the ISS Destiny, The first ship capable of interstellar travel in the history of mankind. The crew, some of the best trained astronauts and cosmonauts on Earth, were to 'sleep' in stasis pods, and were to be woken up upon arrival. Something went wrong however, and...

"What the hell..." He muttered under his breath. Something seemed off here. Why would an author destroy a copy of his own book? And who burns a picture of their own relatives? Something was off... Either Graves had gone mad, or someone really didn't like him. And the stuff on his bed... Wasn't...

"The TV's on..." He muttered to himself. He walked over to it, watching his step to be sure that he didn't step on any evidence. It was that talk show host, Godfrey. Andrew didn't watch much TV, but he'd heard about him on the news a few times. He didn't exactly think well of the guy either...

Andrew opened the door to the apartment. Nobody was home, obviously. He had been hired to investigate the disappearance of a Mr. Graves, some sort of author. The man who hired him was the publisher, who had looked and sounded rather distraught. This was normal, considering one of their best...

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Name: Andrew J Hawkins Age: 38 Occupation: Private Eye Gender: Male Bio: Picture: (Thanks to Sentry for finding this picture)

Are you guys recruiting still? Because I'd like to join.

"That's no way to greet a stranger." He said, his voice still calm. "Have you no manners?" The man asked mockingly. His hand was still out, waiting for OGUN to shake it. "Come now, don't be... unpleasant." There was a hint of menace in the last word, as if he was threatening OGUN.

This is where my characters will go.

I can't. No permission, unfortunately.

"Look, I know you don't trust me, and that's good. Because I don't trust you either." He picked up a few cans that had fallen out of his pack when he dropped it. "But I suppose I should tell you where we're going." He pulled out his scimitar, showing her the rusted and dented blade. "I need to...

The figure walked closer, it's steps rigid. As it entered the light, his facial features became more apparent. He had a ovular face with an angular jaw, his chin was slightly rounded. He had a scar right next to his left eye, a wound long since healed. He wore an unsettling grin, his white teeth...

A cloaked figure stood in front of OGUN. The cloak was tattered and torn, patched in a few places. The hood was down, and you could not see the figure's face. It stood there, as rigid as a statue, right in his way. The figure seemed to be only a shadow in the darkness, lit only by the light of...

"Somewhere." He would probably stop by Kyle's, maybe see about getting the girl a weapon. She'd have to defend herself somehow. He just did't tell her. He had a feeling that heading to a weapons shop wasn't exactly what this girl wanted. Maybe head North. Wherever they were going, they had to...

Mike smiled slightly. "Agreed." He looked out one of the few windows that still had some glass in it. "It's going to get dark soon. If we want to get where we need to be going, we need to move fast." He pulled out what appeared to be a dirty T-shirt tied in a knot. "Time for your first lesson...

"Do I look like a murderer to you?" He asked her, trying to sound offended. He wasn't really lying, he was just... stretching the truth a bit. His jobs did occasionally have to take out a door guard or the occasional bandit, but those were in extreme situations. Still, he hid this from her well...

"I'm a sort of hired hand. I come to people, they give me a job, and pay me well to do it. Thing is, the stuff I do is... confidential, in a way. I promise to keep my job between me and my... clients." He said, pausing every now and then to choose his words carefully. "You see, having some help...

Mike chuckled. The girl thought he wanted her supplies. He looked her over carefully, examining her from top to bottom. She was slightly smaller, and a bit thinner. Maybe, just maybe she could... He thought for a moment, and then said. "You look like you could use some help." He gestured toward...

Good. No faction meant she most likely didn't know who he was. He put his scimitar back in it's scabbard, bits of rust falling off as he did so. "I never planned to." He replied, taking of his mask and letting it fall to the ground. He would pick it up soon. "Name's Mike." He said, walking over...