#sullivanposts;

[imjustanauthor]

@omniishambles (Sullivan & Vlad, PJ AU)

“Vlad, we need to go over our tactics for Capture the Flag this week.”

Their team had lost last week - something that Sullivan was still adamant was not his fault, even he is had been the one guarding the flag. He was a good warrior - brilliant, even! - but even he was going to struggle when abused by ten of the enemy! If anything, what had happened was the rest of his team’s fault for not supporting him when he needed it!

But that was in the past now - or, at least, that was what Sullivan kept insisting was the case, very much fed up of discussing it. It was a new week, which meant a new opportunity to win. Because of that, he wanted to go over to the forest and scout out potential tactical positions (and, if he was lucky, get into a fight with something). Sullivan wasn’t going to do that that alone, though. Sure, he could, but what would be the point in tactics if he was the only one following them?

He’d spotted the other boy on his way over to the armoury and, quickly deciding that he was the perfect scouting partner, Sullivan had wasted no time in calling out to him. Vlad was his half-brother - a year younger than him, but also built like a giant and as fierce as anything. Yes, he would definitely be a good partner in crime when it came to the quest to regain his pride over a damn flag.

“Grab a sword and come to the forest with me. It’s not like you have anything better to do with your time.”

[imjustanauthor]

@hvbris (@ El)

Sullivan had not been very happy to find out that he was being sent to some backwater town in America to look into what was currently nothing more than strange rumours. Personally, he thought himself better than such a mission - especially when he knew for a fact that a group of his colleagues were, at the same time as his new job, being sent over to Norway to investigate vampire sightings. Now that was far more his style, but no, he was stuck wandering around a forest, chasing something that would likely turn out to be nothing more than a mutant deer.

Mind you, the mission had become somewhat interesting with the inclusion of a stray child. Obviously Sullivan hadn’t planned to pick up a random kid but, well, he could hardly leave her out on her own in nothing more than what looked like a hospital gown, could he? He was a heartless bastard at the best of times, but even he knew better than that. 

The kid didn’t talk much so he couldn’t work out where she’d come from. No parents had arrived to collect her, though, thus he assumed that she was on her own. It had taken some time, but he’d ended up being bale to convince her into his car, ultimately planning to drop her off with the local police or something like that. However, he didn’t want to put himself on the radar of the authorities just yet, so first he wanted to finish what he was doing (setting up a network of cameras other technology throughout the woods that would, with luck, help him get to the bottom of the rumours of something going on in there).

First, though, the kid needed clothes. He’d left her in the car (locking the doors so she couldn’t escape and end up on her own again) and parked in a secluded spot near a shop that looked like it sold clothes that’d fit her. Then Sullivan had promised to return soon and wandered over to check the shop out. Luckily, he’d managed to find all the items he needed in a size that looked somewhat correct - and, on the way out, he’d noticed that the shop also sold cold drinks! Convinced that a lemonade would do a lot to convince a child to behave, he picked up a few bottles on his way to the counter.

Once he got back to the car, he was pleased to see that the girl was still sitting in the back. Well, perhaps ‘pleased’ wasn’t the correct word. Truth be told, he was pretty irritated that he’d ended up playing babysitting. At the same time, though, he knew that a missing (or, even worse, dead) child and a town on red alert because of it would make his plans so much harder to carry out, so even if it was annoying, it was for the best that the kid was still about.

“Here,” he said as he opened the back door and dropped the set of clothes onto the seat. “I reckon they’ll fit you.” He then waved one of the lemonade bottles at her. “You put these on without any fuss and I’ve give you one of these, alright? You do know how to get dress, don’t you?”

[imjustanauthor]

@ithinkim-adorable (@ Dean)

Fucking werewolves. Sullivan hated them. This wasn’t really a surprise, mind you - Sullivan hated the vast majority of the extraterrestrial, paranormal, or otherwise unknown. In fact, did he like anything that fell under one of those umbrellas? As he trudged through the forest, light rain drizzling down on him as the light of day slowly died, he had to come to the conclusion that no, he did not. He hated the bloody lot of them.

But anyway, werewolves. Some backwater American town was having an issue with them and Sullivan’s people wanted to use the situation to gather some biological samples. Ideally they’d want a live specimen, but smuggling a whole monster back to London wasn’t a task that they currently had the resources for. Maybe in a few years - or sooner if a case popped up in the UK. In the meantime, they’d have to settle for whatever samples Sullivan could manage to get.

First though, he had to find one of the damn things. He’d spotted suspicious signs of human life and had been following them for a while, hoping to find where a werewolf was hiding out in preparation for the full moon. That was in just over half an hour, so there wasn’t much time left. Sullivan reckoned he was close, though - the tracks he had been following had been growing fresher, and he was pretty sure that he could hear the rustling of something moving in the foliage up ahead.

Stealth was not a strong point of Sullivan’s, but he was decent enough at it. As he crept closer, all the signs were suggesting to him that he was on the right track. There was definitely somebody ahead, and it had to be a werewolf. After all, who else would be sneaking around the forest at night?

Eventually, he got close enough to strike. Gun in hand, quietly pushed through the undergrowth and-

Well, that was certainly a man there, but he wasn’t behaving like he’d expect a werewolf to behave. In fact, he was behaving very much like Sullivan himself was. Obviously it was best to not drop his guard completely, but Sullivan did at least lower his gun as his instincts told him that this wasn’t his quarry. 

“What are you, then? Some kind of deluded bigfoot hunter?” It was hardly a polite greeting but, well, Sullivan was hardly known for being a polite man.

[imjustanauthor]

@youhavemyrespect (from Sullivan)

The British Museum was not the kind of place where one could usually find Sullivan. He was the kind of guy that far preferred to spend his free time in a bar or casino - somewhere where he could have a drink and blend in with the rest of the miserable sods that were trying to find a distraction from the world. Museums were just a bit too quiet for his liking. They gave him a similar feeling as the library back when he was at school.

Then again, though, he did have to admit that there were some interesting things on display. Sullivan had been wandering around the museum for a few days now as he assessed the building’s security and layout, and there were a few things that had caught his eye. Of course, most of all he had been checking out his target - a metal Saxon artefact of unknown history. The strange, shapeless lump of metal only had a small display and not many people were paying attention to it. It was funny, really. If they knew that the metal was made from an alien compound, presumed to have come off a crashed ship of some kind, the amount of attention it was receiving would surely be completely different.

After staking out the museum, he was ready to go ahead with his mission to extract the artefact. He’d bribed a guard into letting him back in after closing hours (which had turned out to be a far easier task than he had expected) and, after carefully ensuring that all the security cameras were off on the route he planned on taking through the building, had begun to make his way over to the relevant display.

Everything was going as plan until suddenly it wasn’t. Just as Sullivan was about to turn a corner, he heard a door opening. Fuck. That was the door to the library, wasn’t it? Bugger. Someone must have been in there.

The perk to old buildings such as the museum was that they tended to have plenty of dark corners. Sullivan ducked into an alcove and hid in the shadows as the man - seemingly unremarkable - passed by. It was a good hiding place, and it would have likely worked for him too had he not decided to take one more step back as the stranger walked by - bumping right into a plinth behind him and sending the statue that sat upon it falling straight to the floor.

Well fuck.

Luckily the statue was made of metal so it did not smash, but it still created a loud noise. Instinctively, Sullivan’s hand went straight to his shoulder holster, resting upon the handgun that sat there and ready to pull it out should this man cause any trouble.

[imjustanauthor]

@harkcr (from Sullivan)

To Sullivan, the Jonathan Harker Foundation had always been something of a laughing stock. Apparently they were attempting to handle the last remaining loose ties of Project: Twilight, but they didn’t seem to be doing a particularly good job at it. That was why he had been sent to ‘collaborate’ with them - because their ridiculous search for the so-called ‘Count Dracula’ was taking far too long, and there were powerful figures across a handful of organisations that wanted them to get it over with already so that they could move on and focus on something more useful.

He hadn’t bothered attempting to bring weapons with him - there was security on the door that would just take them away if he tried to bring them into the building. Oh well; he was confident enough in his ability to use his fists or an improvised weapon if it came down to it. Still, he felt a bit bare without a handgun in his pocket, and this feeling did little to help the clear scowl on his face as he was led through the Foundation’s corridors.

Eventually, he was shown into an office. Sullivan didn’t bother to thank the poor secretary that had shown him the way - instead, closing the door to the office in her face as he stepped inside and immediately turning his attention to the man he was there to meet.

“Mr Murray,” he gruffly greeted as took a seat opposite the other’s desk, already acting very much like he owned the place. “I’m here to help you actually do something competent for the first time in your life. You should be expecting me?”

[imjustanauthor]

@l1ghthouses (from Sullivan)

As ruthlessly efficient as the Forge could be, there were still a few things that managed to elude them. A handful of vampires were one such example, as was access to the remaining rubble from the infamous Rosewell crash was another. They still kept track of these things, though, and attempted to make breakthroughs with them whenever the opportunity arose.

There had been reports of something stalking the forests of Jersey for longer than the Forge had been in existence. Luckily, Americans liked to talk, and so it was not particularly hard to gather information. The Jersey Devil, as they liked to call it, had certainly captured their imagination. However, it had not captured Sullivan’s imagination. Sent over the pond to investigate increased reports of something strange attacking hikers in the area, he was thoroughly unimpressed by the whole thing.

He never liked travelling abroad, and he liked it even less when he was stuck in some seemingly never-ending pine forest. There was a chill in the even as the sun started to set for the evening and, though Sullivan was not one to jump at his own shadow, there was a certain element of something unnatural about.

The silence was deafening. There was no bird song, no humming of insects, and no distant scurrying as small animals hopped about on the forest floor. That was all broken when a sudden snap rung out between the trees.

It had come from the distance, over where a dip in the terrain provided shelter for whatever had made the sound. Sullivan refused to allow himself to be afraid. Chances were he had simply heard some kind harmless animal - a deer or something - and if he hadn’t? Well, he dealt with worse before, hadn’t he?

As silently as possible, he stalked toward the source of the sound, gun in hand and ready to fire should he come across the beast that he was supposed to be tracking down, and as he came to the top of the slope that would lead down to his quarry-

Oh.

That was a person.

That was definitely a person. Some kind of hiker? He was a little way off still, but he seem to be a well off fellow, judging by his clothes. Presumably someone with little sense considering that they were alone in the middle of the forest at this time despite all the reports of ‘animal’ attacks in the area.

Well, if Sullivan was going to get anything done, he couldn’t have civilians hanging about. Best to try and get rid of them. Without thinking about it, Sullivan put his gun back into its holster and began making his way toward the stranger. 

“Oi!” He shouted, letting the other know he was there. “You shouldn’t be here right now!”

[imjustanauthor]

"what is wrong with you?" Cass @ Sullivan, sorry haha @hvbris

PROMPTS FOR SUSPICIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES

"There are a few prevailing theories," was Sullivan's grumbled, nonchalant answer as, once again, he nudged the dead body before him with his foot.

It had been easy enough to gain access to the crime scene. FBI or no FBI, this wasn't Sullivan's first rodeo and he'd flashed his (counterfeit) ID with confidence that made it exceedingly hard to doubt he really was a MI6 officer collaborating with the American government. Of course, he hadn't explained anything about exactly why he was interested in the case. After all, the FBI didn't tend to take kindly to stories about vampires.

The victim in question was the foster parent of a child that, according to Sullivan's intelligence, was very likely to be a vampire. The exsanguination of the body further supported this idea, but he'd still wanted to check to make sure that it wasn't about to spring back to life any time soon.

"So, the kid's gone missing?" He then asked, turning back to face the FBI agent that had been left to deal with him. The current theory was that somebody had killed the parent and taken the child. Of course, Sullivan's theory was that the child had bled the parent dry and then fled, hoping to reappear elsewhere and sneak back into the foster system once everything had cooled down again.

"Any leads on where she might be yet?"

[imjustanauthor]

we can help each other ,  right ? - Rufus in his UFO Hunter verse for Sullivan?

↪     𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑩𝑰𝑫 ᶜᵘʳᶤᵒˢᶤᵗʸ .    (  a  collection  of  various unsorted question prompts .  adjust  phrasing  as  necessary .   will  be  updated  frequently .  )

Sullivan had no bloody clue who this bloke was. He was some yeehaw American, probably an amateur that didn't know his greys from his reptilians. He'd only get in the way if he was allowed to tag along.

However... There was one thing that made Sullivan hesitate. In fact, it even made him smile - though the expression could hardly be called friendly. It was more akin to a shark showing its teeth than anything else, the man's ever-present sneer only framing it further.

The problem with tracking down aliens was that they didn't tend to show themselves without reason, and the most reliable reason was because they felt threatened. So, the solution? Bait. And what better bait than a nosy cowboy?

"Sure," Sullivan replied. "Why not? You could be useful."

Now all he needed to do was work out where his quarry was actually hiding out. That was going to be a big job in itself. Maybe having an extra pair of hands would actually prove to be useful - assuming, of course, that this guy actually knew anything about this kind of thing.

"Who are you, anyway?" He then asked, as if he hadn't failed to introduce himself either.