Julian Cannon's page

31 posts. Alias of Me'mori.


While running on half-sleep was somewhat of a known situation, Julian was quick to respond, even a bit groggy as he was. A bit numb from earlier, he is giving instructions to restrain her as best they could before he can get a look at Wraith, and it is not until a few minutes in does his brain catch up with what he is doing, and some concern enter in to some of that no-nonsense manner.

"Not an ideal situation", he remarked dryly as he pulled a small syringe from his pack, filling it with a small amount of something from a small bottle before injecting Wraith. "That should keep her calmer, though the night terrors... Well."

That last bit was added on, knowing what they have seen. "She's seen worse, but maybe not weirder..."\
Profession: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

No argument from Julian, he follows Mick's lead and gets the heck out of there.

More disturbed by the bodies than the situation, Julian is at least able to focus on something other than the confusion and potential terror that found him not too far in. Dealing with bodies was something he was familiar with and setting to, he tried to make some sense of what happened to them as they worked. It was not an ideal setup, but it was not an impossible one.
Profession: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Defaulting to Profession over Treat Injury

Still unable that they were going through something like this without a way to cleanse these tunnels with fire, Julian kept up with those with the weapons, a litany of 'nopenopenopenope...'. Outside of the uncertainty of what they were heading into, the analytical parts of him were trying to figure out what could have caused this. Growth and... "occurrences" aside, there was little sense to be made of this yet.

"Why are they not eating the arms?", he mused aloud, one of the more random questions bubbling to the fore.

The change in plans has Julian looking rather uncertain about things, as going further into whatever this was without any further sources of large damage was somewhat disconcerting and worrying. There was enough oddity in the world now, that moving the proverbial bar was not something that he wanted done.


"Ummm... There are limbs. Why are there limbs? Why are we intending to go through there?"

The call of "cover" was a second too late in registering for Julian, who had a passing (re: civilian's) knowledge of terms and Mick's reaction did not get properly situated when the explosion occurred. As it occurred, his yell of surprise was drowned out, and he stumbled, catching himself against the wall. It was a few seconds to recover before he realized that there may have been injuries, and— oh, no...

Regaining himself, he rushed towards the explosion, with the intent of dragging the injured out— not that managing anything in a hazmat suit was going to be ideal or hygenic.

He was not going to touch the smear, he was not going to touch the smear...

Julian had given up on trying to carry the snake along, and discarded it. He was trying to get the remains off of his hands when he was addressed. "Probably. You've done something similar yourself in the past when you 'see' something but don't really notice it until you have to give it attention. It could be something as simple as that, to it actively preventing recognition by your brain somehow. I am really not sure when it comes to the psychic stuff. Too many new variables, not enough studies, even now."

Great, now he was covered in snake ick and wall ick. Disgusting.

It was difficult to do in the suit, but Julian managed to push the head cover up enough to flash a professional smile at Stringer, despite the snake that he was trying to carry, accidentally smearing a bit of blood onto the visor. "You can call me Julian... I'm the—" He glanced around a bit to compare strengths with what he had seen so far, trying not to linger on Pearl. "–Umm, I knew Lou through the 'boards, and Wraith under the table."

Looking about for a better way to describe himself and his role here, he shrugged. "I'm the tech and an EMT. That's my kit on my back, and I really did not expect to find Apep on this follow-up for Lou, or I'd have brought my bigger kit." While he was talking, he tried to wipe the smudge of blood and only ended up spreading it.

The response that Julian was going to give regarding the snake was cut short as Wraith opened it up with what seemed like a manic enthusiasm to him before following the next thread of interest. He could only look at the body of the creature and shake his head, able to make nothing of it right now. The state of the others was not likely to be that much better either, for the volume of gunfire that was unloaded on them. "Are there any that are mostly intact?", he asked. "Damage from bullets is pretty disruptive to the integrity of the body, and these are not from this planet", he said with confidence. "I don't remember the name, but they are old."

A 'splat' from the freshly-killed body made him pause. "Well, not these, exactly, but their type... Species? ..Um, race?"

There was still so much noise echoing back down the tunnel that Wraith yelling something about intelligent snakes seemed like something that he might have imagined. Wincing at what was going on and the volume, Julian kept his hands over his ears as his brain refused to let go of that surreal question. Snakes are not that intelligent— normally.
Life Science: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

The sounds of the gunfire echoing off of the walls was enough to almost take Julian out of the fight, with him wincing and covering his ears against the sounds in the tunnel. That was certainly an experience that he never wanted to happen again, but things were not likely to be over that easy. The pain from the headache that was forming was respectable. With the gunfire ahead he knew better than to run in the way trying to contribute— he'd seen Wraith enough after something like that...

There was so much wrong with this and Julian was trying to understand just what caused all of this. A development like this just does not occur normally, but Lou said that much. Still, that did not excuse the bodies. That they were all collected spoke of intelligence, but they had yet to see anything and honestly, Julian felt like they were under-equipped for this. Wraith had the right idea. Burn all of this.

"We're probably close to water at this point." Julian was speaking softly because they had gone this far and not seen anything yet. Hopefully they were just lucky.

Julian was distinctly uncomfortable as Snoop proceeded along the tunnel. Hearing Pearl comment reminded him that her response was not entirely out of character for someone. From what he has seen, that might not be enough. Still, he paid close attention to what was being described, as that was... not normal. If it was not flesh, then it was— at one point– plant matter, but the suggestion of something living is not entirely inaccurate... It is just the implication that it carried. Voluntarily walking into a stomach is not something that he would consciously do, and this was markedly becoming more and more wrong. If this was growing under the city, what in the world was the root cause?

Julian barely managed to keep what he had eaten in his stomach, there were too many pieces. Even though he was somewhat experienced with this, this many in their varying states was a lot to process. As a defense against seeing too much, he tried to make sense of the injuries. It was something that could keep him focused and engaged, instead of seeing everything and being unable to keep his cool. Whatever did this had to be stronger than the average human.
Medical skills?: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

The reactions from the others were not encouraging in the least. Julian was puzzled, and relatively certain that seeing whatever it was that they had seen was not in his best interest. Instead, he stayed where he was at the rear, trying to steel his nerves for whatever it was that they saw. That they were apparently preparing to walk through whatever the heck it was.

Skepticism did not quite approach the kind of expression that Julian was wearing. Granted, there was the evidence that 'this person you know (and relatively trust) knows a couple of other people, and they're going into the sewer!', and it related to a good friend. Definitely not what he was expecting from the get-go, but then again, that was his fault for having expectations. One, by one, by one, they descend into the sewer, and there is that internal debate that displays physically as a step forward, then back.

A sigh. A shake of his head. That nervous bouncing on his toes before he slumps, resigned. The two words that usually preceded some of the most interesting actions slipped out as he made for the manhole. "F$#k it."

Following along at the rear with the others, he at least knew better than to talk, but that did not stop his internal monologue cursing every step that he chose to take down here.

Julian returned the hug, glad that he was not wrong about the group, at least about who they were. That Wraith was between him and the gun was not missed, though. Reassured by the company, he looked around at everyone again, taking in the pieces that he could see. Pearl and the HazMat suit got a look, as well as Wraith in theirs. "Yeah. Lou helped me with research and Wraith is a-- we're acquainted", he dodged.

He spoke as he took in details. "Heya. I'm Julian. Got a letter from Lou, and well..." He shrugged, running a hand through the mop of loose curls, brown bleaching towards blonde and held back with a gray band. "Thought t'see what happened, and looks like I'm not alone thinkin' that... If'n it needs HazMat suits though..." Giving up, he looked at Wraith again. "I'm thinking I missed something."

No way.

Julian knew that voice. The odds that one of his "off-the-books" clients was here had to be ridiculously high. If that was who he thought it was, they still had him on retainer for a little bit longer, but that settled it. They had to know. This city could not be that small, could it?

The paper was folded up as they stood, walking closer to the house and taking note of the activity that was going on with a raised eyebrow, and slowed a short distance away. His expression was almost deadpan as he took a longer look at Pearl— 'is that a HazMat suit?'– before keeping his hands in view.

"Y'all here for the ChemCo work?" His look shifted to the one person that seemed familiar. Was that Wraith?

He had seen the group of people head into the address that took a little figuring to find, but that was when he was a couple of blocks away. Considering the uncertainty, it was probably a smarter bet to linger and see just who they were when they came out. Or at least, who they were not. Suits and shiny cars did not come this far out. Heck, it was an unspoken rule that if you were unfamiliar, in an unfamiliar place, it would be better to return to your familiar places by the time the sun dimmed. Not all the threats out here were the wildlife, some of the people around here just lead a wild lifestyle— or what passed for it in these parts.

So he found a convenient spot on the side of the street to sit, propped up and idly reading one of the latest thing they had around here to a newspaper, long resigned to the idea that he was certainly conspicuous, but they were in the "safe" hours, and hardly interesting.

A beaten ballcap covered his eyes against the sun, his glasses one of the affordable styles, black plastic and silvered plastic accents, more suited to a book or something clerical than this worn urban setting. Even his jacket was not a uniform color, this one bleached a bit on one side from laying over the chair too long in the window, blue having faded to a less-blue, weathered without the weather. Worn jeans and decently broken-in sneakers completed his look, the newer backpack with the promo logo of one of the healthcare groups— recently merged. This one was "GulfCares™", the blue-and-purple heart overlaid by an ECG line.

Movement from the porch of the place drew his attention, and he lowered the paper, wondering who was going to walk out... That was Lou's place, right?

Alright... How's this look? I think I have everything correct?

Alright. Crunch up, going to polish the fluff and give some context.

Julian tried not to look at what was visible outside as the ship began transitioning them. Seeing how time was conceptualized to her perception was something that she suspected would be undoubtedly disorienting. Instead, she busied herself going over a mental inventory of her possessions and their plans once they arrived. The stories of the actions and life in the era was something that she was starting to read up on to prepare herself, as she was most certainly not part of the status quo, simply by her looks alone. One reassurance was that she had the paperwork to legitimize their second plan, if this one fell through.

The abrupt change made her look up, and she almost regretted that decision. The sight of the earth a significant ways below them was a problem that she did not know how to resolve. "Doctor, I believe it falls to you, now... Doctor?"

The good doctor seemed to have handled the transition badly, his companion likewise knocked offline, perhaps? Either way, they were unresponsive, and they needed a landing solution. "System, autonav status query."

They had a timeframe, and a bit of time, so "Julie" was content with little more than a transfer student that had served in the military would have had on them. That meant that she could pack light and it would have been reasonable for her to have a facility with equipment that would not normally have been available to civilians. A little bit of seed money would let her bet at the gambling location— "the Track" if she could recall its colloquial terminology, as well as perform some initial investigation. As Rawlings spoke, she was selecting and specifying the things that she would need, and prefer, just in case there were limitations to the acquisition team.

"A bicycle is an excellent idea, though I would caution those of us that are not capable of acquiring one once we arrive to consider a good cover story." She looked around the table at her teammates, wearing a thoughtful expression. "Am I correct in thinking that our initial plan is to see if we can learn the identity of the influencer, and ensure the injury occurs— with our secondary plan to infiltrate the college as students or faculty and do what we can to disperse the four who carried out the attack?"

Julian held her counsel, thoughtful about what each location provided, and at least with the barn, there was less of a chance that they would encounter armed individuals prone to panic. The bar was likely to just have random younglings daring each other in tests of bravado, or other individuals getting away for whatever activities might require isolation.

As the others discussed, she was pulling up a list of what could be accessed that would be useful in an era without revealing their origin, while still providing adequate functionality.

"My initial thought is to go back perhaps some brief span of time prior to the injury that would have put him into the hospital." Julian's words were measured, squinting slightly as she put some pieces together. "Something occurred prior to that injury, which would mean that he either was not doing what caused the injury in the first place, or someone else was with him-- likely at the racetrack."

One eyebrow raised slightly as she turned her gaze to the more vocal individuals gathered in the room, then at Gabriel. "Some discreet bets would allow us emergency funding while surveilling, to boot. Is there any intention to investigate The Four?"

There was a half smile on Julian's face as she listened to Scera put forth the same plan that she was initially considering. It was entirely likely that two individuals were better than one in this endeavor, and there was a facet that had not been mentioned yet. They had established their priorities, it seemed, but Gabriel's exclusion of her made her curious.

"While the four were responsible for carrying out the assassination, is there any benefit to looking into this Lee Reynolds? I do understand that his sudden profit is an anomaly. Could he be the one who bankrolled the other four?" She looked around at the other three to see if they were following similar trains of thought. "I could get close to Giroux, if we're going to focus on them."

It may have been surprising for Gabriel to mention that she was somewhat exempt from the planning that was going on, so when the eyes glanced in her direction, she gave a reassuring smile. "I am competent enough with medicine, field and otherwise, that I could serve as a transfer student or aide in what passes for a medical program then. However, depending on how we plan to go about preventing this temporal adjustment, I may be able to gain their trust enough to find out what— or who– motivated hem to assassinate a presidential candidate beyond simple politics and activism."

She did look around the room at everyone present, and raised her eyebrows in inquiry. "I presume our involvement is intended to be minimal enough to disrupt this assassination attempt without removing the pawns from the board?" Her face was neutral, and her tone sounded as if she were checking boxes on a list.

It took a couple of seconds as Julian recalled the data involved in the assassination. "The Candidate was poisoned... As I recall, the poison was not able to be identified." Thoughtful, she considered it a moment, before introducing herself.

"Julie, Medical", she said crisply, with an expression that said she was considering the information that had been given already. Her features implied that her heritage was many and vaired, her fair skin and thick hair indicative of a multitude of possible origins. Her dress was conservative, but comfortable, a blouse in a tame tone of grey and a pair of dark slacks over a sensible pair of flats.

"I am fine with Walkie-Talkies. They are a bit antiquated, but the less attention we attract, the better we should be." That they would be going back two-hundred years meant that communication was still rather limited, with information traveling in a matter of days, rather than moments, depending. Practically, they were barely out of the days of the telegram. Novel.
Culture: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Culture #2: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

A change of clothes was not something that Julian took advantage of on the ride over, though she did discard the lab coat. The ride over was pretty smooth, and just being able to relax before the start of another job— however short the window– was good. The arrival was just as smooth, though she did give the church a bit of a dubious look. She would have probably overlooked it, so it made a great choice for a location.

'Out of one job, into another...', she thought to herself as she took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Having an escort was appreciated, since she was certain that the security on this place was on another level far beyond what she was familiar with. The robot dog outside of the door was novel, and out of place for this location, so at least one of the others were here. Putting on a professional smile, she opened the door with confidence.

The conditional filtering on her system was something impressive, since she worked hard on making sure that her equipment was as untouchable as someone in her position could make it, which was not much by comparison to an organization that could make the Agency re-code a mid-level plant operation. As it was, after the first few flickers, she killed the message and took it as a given. As she descended the first few floors, she already had an eartap in, and visual was devoted to the HUD on her glasses.

The appearance of Gabriel was another impressive note, along with the current surveillance of their security. Unlucky. They should have been a few minutes slower, so that made the cab a sufficient exit. She was certain that security was inclined to be less than courteous, should they manage to apprehend her. That was not her first idea of a pleasant evening.

"Well, Gabriel...", she said, settling into the cab and glancing around the interior as it pulled off, "Thank you for the timely exit. Given the haste, I'm guessing that this is rather imperative. Do you have my equipment inventory prepared?"

Julian smiled in anticipation, sparing a glance behind at the throng of employees milling about in confusion for a false alarm, undoing the bun with a wry smile. On to the next job.

Lunch in Lus Bioinformatics was a boring affair. Had been since she started, even more so with their skimping on the lab assistants. The name on her employee tag read as "V. Cavendale", but that was just her cover identity. She would have appeared much like any of the multi-degreed beings that worked here, mostly unremarkable with her brown hair pulled back in a somewhat neat bun, strands slipping out due to her habit of keeping her writing utensil stuck through it when not needed. Glasses were a given, since staring at screens took a toll, especially if the repair treatments were skipped. Her lab coat was neat, as was her clothing, everything in order. Normal.

Currently they were on a "pressure schedule", and that meant that most of the time, food was eaten in or near your lab station without compromising your current work. It had been a month since she had started here, and had only managed to compromise one system. Her assignment had been for four, and there were likely another few months before she would have been able to manage to compromise a second system. The work was okay, but a little on the edges of her interests. She had been eating a light cup of yogurt, and was now nibbling on a piece of nutri-strip, doing some light reading.

The chiming of the message brought a raised eyebrow and a casual glance towards the display from over the tablet she was using to scroll over the latest journal publication. More intriguing— and what brought the other eyebrow up in line with the other– was the addendum from the Institute to that message. It was coded to supersede the current assignment, and that was a rare thing. It was a significant cost of resources to scout and prepare the assignments, so someone somewhere had a fair amount of influence.

Shame. Her departure was cause some questions, but those looking for answers would not get far. The data that could be pulled out of the one system that she had compromised was minimal, but she was sure that they were aware of that. Sighing, she set the tablet and the nutri-strip down, and triggered the emergency exit package that had been grounded here ahead of her. In the chaos of a multi-level evacuation, her absence would not be noted for a while.