#srisingevent

[helenahxnts]

A retired general eager to interest a pretty young woman murmurs that Simon Trask is in Washington, D.C. overseeing clandestine field-testing of something called the “Sentinel Program.” The way the general tells it, Simon’s uncle, Bolivar Trask, originally presented this project to the Pentagon back in the 1960s, and was laughed out of the room. Officially, at least. He always wondered if the story really ended there...

Well, that’s interesting. 

It was easy for Helena to smile pretty and nod along, champagne glass to her lips and mind whirring. Sentinel Program. That sounded... real. Serious. Still... It could be nothing.

Or... it could be something.

[redrobinrising]

Matchak UN Tower

First floor

Masquerades. Balls. Soirees. No, Tim was much more at home huddled away in dimly lit alcove, preferably in the midst of a dangerous, high stakes mission he could get himself lost in. The alcove part wasn’t always so easy, but the high stakes? He was good at getting involved in those.

After sending a quick confirmation over their linked comm. to the rest of the team, Tim went over a checklist in his head.

Task #1: Breach U.N tower security protocols. Done.

Task #3: Locate ISATF base. Done

Task #3: Avoid retaliation by ISA intrusion countermeasures. Working on it.

Persistence was a skill as much as it was a trait, as Tim had learned over the years. Two steps forward, as they say, and one step back, but never far enough to lose his place as he poked and prodded his way through a shockingly complex security system. One flick of his wrist and he’d have any door in the complex unlocked for a solid three seconds. But only three seconds - any longer and the staff on guard would take notice.

“Comms chatter is quiet. Slow night.” No surprise there. “Let me know when we’re good to go and I’ll pop the seals.”

Task #4: Break into ISATF base. 

(1-2 REPLIES MAX, THANK YA KINDLY)(OPEN TO ANYONE ON INFILTRATION TEAM)

[leech-indie]

Hoping to get some "oohs" and "ahhs" from the group she's talking to, an ISA commander says she's heard that Amanda Waller is using former superheroes, villains, and metahumans caught by the International Security Agency to do unsavory business for the Task Force.

Remy sips his drink in the group, eyebrows rising slightly under his mask and keenly watching the reactions to this news. It’s not terribly surprising but it is good information, if it’s true. He makes a few benign comments but mostly listens and tries to gather more information, storing it away to share with the others later. 

[helenahxnts]

A scientist who talked at length about how he's been trying to quit his work for the ISA admits, after a glass too many of vodka-soda, that he's heard whispers that Hank Pym has been taken by Cadmus, who are attempting to use Pym Particles for an unknown reason.

Hm. Well, that was something. Helena filed the information away, making sure to tilt her head towards the man so that the comm hidden in her earrings caught the information.

Now, to extricate herself...

[warukuzuri]

((Daken’s masquerade outfit. He’ll be at the ball, or outside doing something. Don’t worry about it.))

[harperarcher]

((Roy’s masquerade look!!! See ya’ll at the ball!!))

[leech-indie]

Remy Lebeau for Maskenball

“Laissez les bon temps rouler!”

[helenahxnts]

OPEN to Maskenball attendees!

She hadn’t done this in a minute. Probably for the better, because Helena had almost forgotten how much she really didn’t enjoy this kind of thing. Laughing pretty and talking up big egos had never been something she enjoyed, but it was easy enough, as far as missions went. If everything went well, all she’d have to show for the gossip she was funneling out of increasingly champagne-drunk attendants would be sore feet. 

Unlike last time. Last time had been... 

A long time ago. Helena plucked a glass of wine from a passing waiter with a sparkling smile, gold mask glowing against her hair and dress. That smile didn’t waver when she felt a pair of eyes on her; rather, it widened. “Yes?”