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 Warehouse 13 - 1940

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PostSubject: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Sep 24, 2012 9:13 am

America had been a bad idea, he'd known it at the time, but at the time, what other choice did he have? War was upon them and things were becoming increasingly difficult for someone such as himself. A coward, a pathetic leech who was too scared to stand up for his country, a conscientious objector. He hadn't been ignorant of the international tensions growing as he made his way through Europe, if anything he'd been more aware of them than the people back home. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have been detained at most of the borders he'd passed through if it hadn't been for the fact that he could smooth things over in six different languages.

The fact still remained that he was going to have to go home soon. His mother and his aunt were waiting for his return, their last five (and increasingly urgent) telegrams had said so quite plainly. Lyle Keller sighed and adjusted his glasses. His half packed suitcase suitcase sat on his bed, while his other possessions were laid about on the floor of his temporary lodgings. The plain but serviceable bedroom lead out onto a hallway to a bathroom he shared with one other lodger, a chap that was even more introverted than himself. They'd exchanged but a handful of words during his whole stay here, Lyle didn't even know his name.

Lyle Keller was a man of average height and a wiry build, with a narrow face, rather prominent cheekbones and a curiously pointed chin. His nose looked as if it had been broken at least once, and his round, wire-rimmed glasses sat on the end of it. He was a tidy looking fellow, with his hair nearly parted, and his clothes simple but practical. He wore a white shirt, and a pea-green and navy sweater vest, Lyle gave every impression of being a slightly old-fashioned academic.

It was getting dark outside, and as winter drew in the days were getting steadily shorter, the past few days had been especially brisk. This made it a shock to Lyle that his landlady should chose tonight to go out and see a movie, his fellow lodger was out of the house too. Over dinner he'd muttered something about going to visit some relatives and had left soon after. It meant that Lyle was completely alone in the house, so he'd taken this opportunity to pack and leave a note including a month's rent for his landlady, explaining how he'd got a telegram from England and had to return there.

He threw a few books and the remainder of his clothes into the suitcase, and he headed downstairs to make himself a cup of tea, there was a lot to prepare before he left. He placed the kettle onto the stove and tried to find where the landlady had put the loose tea.

"Are you looking for something?" A voice asked. Lyle dropped the mug he had been holding, it smashed against the tiled floor. He turned around to face the voice and was confronted by a Hispanic woman who appeared to be in her forties. Her accent was impossible to place, and her dark hair was pinned away from her face, though it tumbled down her back. The only thing that Charles really noticed about her, however, was the white fox stole around her neck.

"... What? Who are you? How did you get in here?" he replied, confused.

The woman smiled. "My name Ms. Rodriguez and I'm here, Mr. Keller, to speak to you. I'm with the American government and I've got an offer you might find very interesting. " It was only as his eyes adjusted to the dark that he now noticed the tall, fedora-wearing figure stood a few feet behind her. A body-guard of some description, it seemed.

"An offer? What sort of offer, I'm a-"

"Conscientious objector, we know. Mr. Evans here has been keeping a close eye on you, in fact, you may recognise him."

"You're the other lodger!" Lyle exclaimed. suddenly, taken aback. "Listen, I'm sure you have the best of intentions. Well, I'm not, actually, but nevertheless, what do you want with me? I don't see how a pacifist can help the American government... I just want to go back to England, I might be able to get a job in the countryside, away from the fighting."

Ms. Rodriguez shook her head. "No you don't, you've never wanted that and you certainly won't once you've read what's in this file." She was handed a large brown envelope by the man behind her.

"And what is in the file, Ms. Rodriguez?"

"An introduction to a world of endless wonder."


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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Sep 24, 2012 9:17 am

It hadn't started to rain yet in the country side, though it would soon. The air was brisk and there was a storm making its way towards the small farm town. Jack had had a hard day. He went again to another local town and attempted to in list in the army, but only ended up getting rejected, practically as he walked into the door. His life limp was one of the worst things to have happened to him. Jack grabbed the hay from behind the barn and limped into the stable where his trusty horse Susan was housed. He threw the hay into the stable and gave the horse a few slow strokes down her forelock.

Jack sighed, his black hair falling slightly into his eyes. He pushed it back with a sweaty palm, letting it stick to the top of his head. He worked mostly on his parents farm, trying to do something that would make them proud of him and make himself useful. Jacks brown eyes watched the horse lazily as she ate the hay. "Sorry old girl. The hays not the best of quality, since winters coming," He told her, patting her neck. He wasn't the tallest man, five feet six but he more than made up for it in his muscular appearance. He didn't look overly muscular though, as some would imagine fist fighters to look.

The hose whinnied softly, placing her head onto Jacks arm. Jack smiled before nodding and going towards the tack room to fetch her blanket. It was getting pretty chilly. Jacks leg dragged behind him, making the walk towards the tack room slow and tedious. The cows and other animals in the barn made noises to him as he made his way down the long hallway, a constant sliding noise with every foot step. He had ditched the idea of a cane not to long after he had grown past the age of 15. It was just too much of a hassle to carry around everywhere.

The tack room was dark, and ominous. It always was. Jack grabbed the candle that sat on the small coat hanger rack outside of the tack room. He grabbed the small matchbook that sat beside it as well, and lit the candle grabbed it and walked into the room. He saw the blanket, but stopped in his tracks at the sight of a women in a dress with a fox stole around her neck. At further examination there was also two men in fedora's.

Jack had been robbed at a young age. He knew what to do in these situations. With a quick motion, Jack placed the candle down on the ground and grabbed the rake that stood on the side of the wall. "Who are you and what do you want?"

The women smiled. "I'm Ms. Rodriguez. I'm here, with the government to talk to you about an offer I'm sure you're interested in."
Jack lowered the rake, hope filling his eyes. "Have I finally been accepted into the war efforts?"

Ms. Rodriguez grabbed a big brown envelope from one of the men in a fedora behind her. "It's much more interesting than that. I'd like to show you a world of endless wonder."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Sep 24, 2012 10:58 am

It had been the first time that Lyle had flown anywhere, the plane tickets had been in the envelope. Even on his trip around Europe he'd never flown, sailed, walked, just about anything else. The experience had been novel, if slightly terrifying, though it was nothing compared to his excitement and curiosity. After the plane had arrived at the airport, he'd been ushered into a chauffeur driven car, which just so happened to be driven by a chauffeur who really didn't like being asked questions. That or he was mute. At any rate, he hadn't responded to any of Lyle's questions.

They'd been driving down a dirt road for what seemed like an eternity, they passed through a whole lot of nothing and eventually through a tiny town. It was the only civilisation Lyle had seen for what seemed like an age, if you could even call it that. There wasn't much save from a barbers, a hardware store, a post office and a few other scattered shops and buildings. They drove past the town and onto yet another dirt road, which curled around to reveal one of the most curious buildings Lyle had ever seen. It appeared to be a large warehouse of some sort.

The car came to a stop outside of it, and Lyle got out of the car to inspect the building further.

"Ah! The new guy! One of 'em, anyway, you must be Keller right? I read your file, not that I was supposed to, but I thought we'd be getting soldiers so I was kind of curious, there's lots of them around at the minute, but maybe Ms. Rodriguez is onto something, yeah? By not hiring soldiers, or agents this time, I mean." Said a loud and definitely female voice behind him, it spoke so quickly that it was difficult to hear what it was saying.

The woman was wearing a dark green jumpsuit, her red-ish brown hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, it glinted copper in the harsh, South Dakota sunshine.

"Er... What? Yes, I am Keller, Lyle Keller. Who are you?"

"Sharp as a pin, this one. ...I'm Meg, Miss Blarney to you, if you don't mind quite so terribly. Anna, did ask me to bring you both in together, but I can see that's not going to happen since it looks like Hart is going to be late. Hurry up, don't dally and whatever you do, don't touch the bombs."

"Did you always speak such infernal twaddle, Miss Blarney, or has this been a recent development?"

The woman's eyebrows raised slightly, and her freckled face broke into a slight smile. "Ooh, you are a proper limey aren't you? Hart is the guy you're going to be working with, and the bombs are this way. Is that un-twaddled enough for you, Keller?"

"Yes, it is. Thank you Miss Blarney. ...Wait, what about the bombs?"

Meg sighed, grabbed hold of the man's shoulder before he could protest and dragged him towards the entrance of the Warehouse. "Less talking more moving, Anna will explain."


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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Sep 24, 2012 4:24 pm

Their were noises in the Warehouse corridor. Ana sighed. She pinned the last couple of notes to the large map that sat on the wall. She wanted to make sure that their was nothing suspicious that wasn't marked on the map. That was her job after all. Pulling back her curly long blonde hair behind her shoulder she looked up with Meg and the new guy entered. "Where's 'he other one?" She asked,her accent thick a southern drawl. She adjusted her white dress shirt before continuing.

"No matter! 'e should be 'ere soon anyways. Ah'm assuming yer Lyle correct? Ah course yer Lyle as ya dun't have no limp. We might as well wait fer Jack ta get here so ah don't have to go about sayin' my speech twice! But I'm Ana. Feel free to call me Ms. Brown if ya wish, but ah ain't like Meg. Call me anythin' ya want really. But do we 'ave any questions while we wait fer your partner to get here?" Ana said, her smile growing. She did talk a lot.

"Ah Meg, ah believe he's just arrived. Go fetch him will ya?"

______________________________________

The drive over to the middle of South Dakota was a long one. Jack left practically right as he had been approached by Ms. Rodriguez gave him the file. An actual car from the East was in his driveway. He had to tell his mom and dad he'd be leaving, but as soon as he was packed with the bare minimum, he was ushered off into the car and the long journey to South Dakota began.

In the country side, their isn't a lot. Some towns would be scattered here and there, but it was mostly flat and barren. Their were farms almost everywhere though, and that's what the population usually was. After about a twelve hour drive, the car finally pulled into a small town. There wasn't much their, but a few stores. Jack smiled. At least he wasn't being pulled into one of the massive cities in the East. He never liked the cities. He had gone to one once, but promised himself he'd never return. The car drove out of the town and kept driving for a good seven miles before it pulled into an off road that led down a windy path into a valley of sorts.

The car finally pulled up in front of a large barn like structure. Jack got out slowly, allowing his bad leg to adjust its self after being in the car for so long. He grabbed his small messenger bag and looked at the large barn. "This sure ain't no barn I've ever seen before," Jack chuckled to himself softly. He shrugged. So this was the place he was supposed to be at eh? Jack limped towards the door to the large barn and knocked, but their was no door knob. He frowned slightly. "The hell?"
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Sep 24, 2012 11:12 pm

From a white, sterile-looking corridor, Lyle ended up in a medium-sized room. There was a long desk, sweeping around the majority of it, which was covered in papers, books, an old-looking telephone, a couple of lamps and a globe that was spinning idly by itself. On the other side of the room, by a faded oriental rug there was a large wooden table, which was also covered in books, though this one did have various stacks of letters on it too. There was very little light in the room, and most of it came from lamps hanging from the ceiling, with the exposed brick, concrete floor and office blinds, the room had a very industrial feel to it. On one wall, there was a map that didn't make much sense to him at the time, but he later learned it was off the Warehouse, there was also a large filing system to one side of it, built into an indentation in the wall. There was a glass sheet, with various notations on it, and newspaper clippings stuck to it with words and phrases underlined in red.

And if that wasn't enough to take in, there was Agent Brown. Loud, bubbly, clearly from Texas and an entire world away from the sort of people he was used to being around. He took a moment to process what she was saying (she was worse than the Blarney girl) before responding.

"I don't understand what I'm doing here." Lyle admitted. "I've read the file and it seems... extraordinary. It is extraordinary, there's no doubting that. These... artefacts or whatever they are seem too fantastic to exist and since they apparently do, well, what's that got to do with me?"

"I'd better go find Agent Hart before he does something stupid." Meg said, looking around at the two Warehouse agents.

>><<

The door opened, and Meg stood there smiling for a moment. "Well, you are nice looking aren't you? Sorry to impose, but after old horse-face back there... Well, never mind that. Come in, don't stand there dilly-dallying when we've got actual work to do. Well, when you've got actual work to do, I'm heading back into town." With that, she got into the back seat of one of the cars. "Oh, and your luggage will be waiting for you at your accommodation when you've finished here. Tell Keller not to worry about his books, I know what they say about not judging people by their appearances. I disagree. He's packed mostly books, I bet you."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Tue Sep 25, 2012 4:21 pm

Ana smiled. "Of course ya asked 'hat question. Everyone asks 'hat question. Well, ah'll tell ya both why yer here when yer partner comes in! Ah don't like repeatin' mah self."

________________________________

Jack jumped up in defense when the women came out of the door he was just barely a few feet away from. The mans brown eyes widened. "W-What?!" He asked as the women practically bombarded him with words. He sighed slightly, as Meg got the rest of the way into the car. He adjusted his black long leather jacket he had kept only for special occasions. His white dress shirt looking a bit odd with his dusty black work pants. He hadn't fit into the nicer ones he had bought for himself a few years back.

With a confident smile on his face, Jack entered the stark white corridor. He kept well away from the poles on the walls that were marked with "WARNING", and continued down the hall way till a their was another door. After a moments hesitation, the door swung open, and Jack limped in. Their was a women standing in the room, her blonde hair dancing around her face and curling in neat curls. Her lips were stark red, a massive contrast from her perfectly white dress shirt and her black skirt. She smiled warmly at Jack upon his entry. He limped in, looked towards the other man with a slightly judging look and then opened his mouth to say something, but the women cut him off.

"Welcome Agent Hart and Agent Keller! Welcome ta Warehouse 13. Ah'd like ta give ya 'he tour, but first let me give ya some of 'he basics." Ana adjusted her hair before she continued. "You two have been chosen by 'he Government of 'he United States because ya both harness some very particular skills that will come in handy in 'he line of work you'll be doin'. So come with me, Agent Hart and Keller. Let me show ya Americas attic." Ana smiled, walking towards the door that sat behind the desk, leading to a outlook of some sort. She pushed the door open, leading to a balcony that over looked a massive warehouse full of shelves and more massive things including a pyramid.

Jack gasped slightly. He'd never seen a building so big, or even a pyramid! He smiled widely. "Wow," He muttered under his breath. Ana smiled. "Oh by 'he way. I'm Ana Brown. Feel free to call me Agent Brown, Ms. Brown. Whatever suits ya. Any questions so far?" She smiled, her teeth seemingly to white, and a massive contrast from her red lips.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Fri Sep 28, 2012 7:00 am

Lyle nodded, deciding that it was best just to try and understand what the woman was going on about and not start to think about how impossible the entire thing was. He'd save that bit for later, preferably when he was in a slightly saner setting--

Oh. So that was Warehouse 13. Lyle found himself staring out onto thousands upon thousands of rows of shelves, each many foot high. Some of the large items he could spot from where he stood, the massive pyramid for one thing, and then, even further away what seemed to be a typical, old American house. There was even what appeared to be an airship, though, he really could't be sure. "Mein Gott. That's impossible, utterly impossible."

Forget that bit about saner settings, he needed answers now. "And what line of work would that be, Agent Brown? Okay, so the purpose of Warehouse 13 is to gather things that posses a danger to the populace, I understand that. You referred to these as artifacts, I assumed that these were some sort of weapons, but it was never explained in great detail in the file. What are artifacts and how do they work, Agent Brown?"

He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'm assuming that because you have chosen, well, to be perfectly blunt a so-called coward and a cripple, this work is not going to be violent-- however, if I am mistaken in that judgement, and if you are so mistaken in your judgement of me that you think that it is merely war I object to. Or if you believe that you may convince me into using violence in any way, shape or form, then I will have to hand in my resignation post-haste."


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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Sat Sep 29, 2012 5:17 pm

Their was a visible flinch on Jack's facial expression as the German opened his mouth. He frowned. Why would a German be here working for the United States? Jack had grown up a fairly shallow life style for most of his life. The west did that to you. Jack shook his head as Ana answered the eager man. "Well, someone has questions. The line o' work is... Ah'd say, scavenger huntin'. Anyways, artifacts can do a multitude of different 'hings. Some can be helpful while others can just be plane ruthless. An' you'd imagine just what some o' them could be used fer durin' these... Times." Ana frowned. Their had been way to many things that some artifacts had done in recent times, which was one reason they needed more agents.

Jack twitched at the mans next words. So he's a Nazi and ALSO a coward? And calling me a cripple? He hardly knows anything about me. Jack frowned, his brows knitting together. He was just getting angrier by the second. Ana opened her mouth to say something, to cool down Jack, but it was to late. Jack took a few limps towards Lyle before he broke. "Listen here German. I've been trying ever since the war started to be a solider. And this so called 'cripple', because maybe that is what I am, has tried harder to fight for HIS COUNTRY than you have! YOU even called yourself a coward. Do you know how pathetic that is? It's massively pathetic. If I hadn't had a damn limp, I would be out there fighting for my country and helping the people who die for us everyday, but I guess a German wouldn't understand that would he? Sorry sir, but if you're supposed to be my partner, I would man up because it's hell out there. Even in the United States. Get your head into the real world. Theirs violence everywhere. So I suggest a change of attitude, "post-haste"."

Ana blinked. She sighed. "This is going so well..," She muttered.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Sat Sep 29, 2012 8:36 pm

Before Lyle could reply to Ana, who's little speech about artifacts hadn't really done much in the way of explaining, but had been a start, he was verbally assaulted. He flinched and took a step backward. "I'm British. I was born in Britain, the only time I ever spent time in Germany was when I started travelling... but I left after a couple of weeks. And don't you dare, even for one second, start to equate people with German heritage, or even people who are German to the sick, vile, and disgusting regime that they've been forced to abide. And, I'm not a coward, even though you all seem so sure about that. I'm a conscientious objector because I don't believe in violence and I don't believe that these, stupid, endless wars are going to cause anything other than more wars and more death."

At this point, one of the doors leading off to the side of the office opened and a small, dark-skinned man appeared. "I see the new Warehouse agents are here." he commented quietly, walking over to Ana, mostly hidden by a massive stack of books. "If you're going to have an argument, you should take it outside. Not to fight, Agent Keller, do I look like an idiot?" he said, effectively cutting off the beginnings of one of Lyle's retorts. "But because the Warehouse responds badly to negative emotion. Very badly. It's not so bad when you're in the office or the library but... Otherwise. I'm Crosby, Warehouse Librarian. Uhm... And I'll just leave you all to it." He told them all nervously, placing down the books and turning around to retreat back into his library before anyone could say anything.

"Do you intend to continue attacking me, my Grandparent's nationalities and my belief system? Or are you going to move on to something else incredibly personal,like oh, I don't know, my religion or the fact I were glasses, or anything else that just so happens to come to mind."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Sun Sep 30, 2012 5:08 am

The tension in the air grew steadily as Lyle opened his mouth and shot out a counter retort. Jack opened his mouth to continue his verbal abuse when a dark skinned man came out of the office with a stack of books. Ana relaxed a bit at the sight of the man. Jack quickly pushed away all other ideas of a retort at he mention of how the Warehouse reacts. The thing Jack wanted to not do was to get kicked out of the Warehouse and not be able to help his country at all. He didn't want to go back to the farm life, though he had to admit he missed his horse.

As Clayton left, Ana quickly put in her two cents before anything else could erupt. "Look, their will be some fightin' it's a bit hard to not durin' these times, so if y'all will give me enough time ta explain mahself and the Warehouse ah'm sure y'all will be wilin' ta stay." Jack nodded. "Sorry Agent Keller, it wasn't my place to speak. If we're going to be partners, we'll need to cooperate." Jack put his hand out for Lyle to shake it. He was a rather rash man, and he did have a tendency to be harsh, but he wasn't cruel, and he knew that when he made a mistake, he needed to apologies for it. He had grown up that way. If he was in the wrong, he would need to apologies for his mistakes.

Ana smiled. "If y'all are done fightin', we can take a tour of the Warehouse! Ya can see some of 'he artifacts! So come this way dears," Ana said with a smile on her face. She headed toward he far side of the landing and motioned for the others to join her. Jack followed after her with a small smile. It was amazing how this country girl could change the mood around rather quickly. She was rather nice too, though he had a feeling she'd have a nasty bad side. He made a mental note not to get on that side of her.

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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Sun Sep 30, 2012 7:31 am

Lyle sighed, running a hand through his short, dark hair. "Fine. I've got better things to do than argue with you." That was the best apology Jack was going to get, so he'd have to accept it. He still wasn't sure how this was going to work, the man was clearly obsessed with the idea of going to fight for his country and, Lyle, well... There was a strange irony with the whole situation that would have made it funny if it hadn't have been happening to him.

"Right. Okay then, we might as well get this over with." Deciding that it was probably best not to be stuck with Ana and Jack alone, he tried to see where Crosby had gone and as if on cue, Graham Crosby chose that moment in time to walk into the office with a folder of newspaper cuttings. "Crosby, I'm just wondering, does this tour include the library?"

Crosby nearly dropped the folder he was holding. "Oh! Well, that depends on what, er, Agent Brown thinks, Agent Keller."

Great, he was stuck with an idiot, a madwoman and a mouse. This was going to be fun. "Good to know." Lyle replied without much enthusiasm.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Sun Sep 30, 2012 6:40 pm

Jack sighed softly to himself, crossing his arms over his chest. He's impossible. I even tried to be nice and he bust blew me off. Oh well. He'll possibly warm up at some point in time. Jack shrugged before completely joining Anna outside of the office. Ana placed a reassuring hand on Jacks back. "He'll warm up ta us, don't worry. He's just a bit hostile. Most people are when they first come ta 'he Warehouse, not like ah blame them. It's all weird at first. In fact, yew might be 'he first willin' agent in a long time. Good job Agent Hart." Ana smiled. Jack looked off into the distance of the Warehouse, seemingly not paying much attention to the things Ana was saying.

"Ya know, violence isn't the reason I want to go fight in the war. My grand father fought in the Civil War. He fought for our country when the south seceded. He died in battle. When I was crippled at a young age, I was told I wasn't going to be able to do anything with my life. When the war came around, I saw an opportunity to actually do something instead of working on a farm where I was called a nusense by my father. I just wanted to do something to make them proud. I want to do something with my life. It's frustrating is all. I don't really expect anyone to understand though," Jack rambled, a frown forming on his lips, but he quickly turned it back to a small smile.

"Ah understand Jack. No one's blamin' ya, and if Agent Keller has a problem, he'll get used to it." When Lyle joined them again, Ana smiled, leading the way down the stairs to the floor of the Warehouse where a small brownish car shaped three seater vehicle with gold bars in the lower seats stood in front of them. "Agent Keller and Agent Hart, please sit in 'he lower seats and hold onto 'he gold bar in front of ya. We will have a quick over view of the Warehouse."

________________________

The small cart pulled into an aisle where some odd looking gadgets were sitting. They were all mostly gold and brown and some were made of glass. "If y'all could just wait in this her little car fer me, Ah'll be right back. Just gotta put somethin' on one of 'he shelves. Be back in a heartbeat!" Ana jumped off of the upper level of the car before grabbing a box off of the back. She disappeared down one aisle over, leaving Jack and Lyle alone in the car. Jack took his hands off of the bar and sat their awkwardly. He was never good with starting conversations.

((I hope this is okay? XD;;))
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Oct 01, 2012 10:29 am

Lyle nodded, looking reticent to say anything in reply. "... I'd just have like to think that society was more evolved than we were when the Civil War broke out, but... Apparently not. It all boils down to the same thing eventually, people will always choose the Spartan way of thinking over the Athenian, well... In short any way. I mean, I did write an essay on the subject using that metaphor, it really wasn't my best but- Oh. Never mind. Just never mind."

With a slightly suspicious glance at the weird contraption, he climbed up onto it and placed his hands on the bar.

>>> <<<

The tour of the Warehouse hadn't been going on for very long when Ana had to dash of to put something on one of the shelves. She'd been explaining some of the artifacts, and despite how amazing it all was, Lyle had found his attention wandering. This brought him back to earth, he decided to risk a glance at Jack. The awkwardness was eating him alive. He swung himself off of the car. "You know," he began bitterly, his eyes scanning the aisle, quickly reading the slips of paper that held the information about the artifacts. "I heard that the Nazis were collecting antiques, anything that holds historical significance... I think we know what they're looking for. I'm just glad this is on our, well, your soil." He wandered a little further up the aisle. "...They've got Lord Byron's walking stick here, it's supposed to give the user a permanent limp." He said idly, not looking up from the shelves. It was easier for him to talk if he didn't have to look anyone in the eyes, especially not Jack. It was just easier to pretend he wasn't there.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Tue Oct 02, 2012 5:24 pm

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Lyle got out of the kart. Jack opened his mouth to say something like, "She told us to stay in the car," but quickly changed his mind before following him out of the car and into the aisle. "Mow that I think of it, I've heard stories about ancient things supposedly causing extraordinary things. Never thought it would actually be true," Jack limped after Lyle, idly eying the shelves as he passed them by. The whole thing was a massive surprise to him, but he was still thankful to be here, though he had no idea why he would even be here. He wasn't special at all.

"Well, if the Ge- Nazis are collecting artifacts, than I guess it'll be our job to stop them huh?" It took a bit, but Jack limped his way down to where Lyle was looking at the cane. "Do you think it actually works? Man, that's a terrible punishment to have. I mean, it's bad enough getting it from an accident, but getting it form using a cane, that would be terrible." Jack stared at the cane, and began to reach for it before a screech sounded from down the aisle.

"DON'T TOUCH 'HAT!" Ana shouted before the clacking on her heels on the floor was followed by the blond haired women running frantically towards Jack and Lyle. She had purple gloves on and a frown on her face. "What in 'he world did ah tell you two ta do? Ah told ya ta stay in the car! What is it ya have o'er here any who dears?" Ana asked, looking over to where Jack was looking at. She smiled softly. "Ah yes. Lord Byrons walkin' stick. Gave the user a nasty li-." She stopped before thinking over some things. "Say... 'hat would it do fer a user who already has a limp? Willin' ta try it out Jack?"

Jack eyed the women as if her hair was on fire. "What? But what if it... Blows up my face or something?" Ana laughed softly. "Won't hurt ta try dear! So take 'he stick." Ana gently pulled the walking stick off of the stand and handed it to Jack. He took it tentatively into his hands. He placed it down like a walking stick and took a step on his bad leg, walked, and did it again. "Wait. It just fixed my limp? Will it be permanent or not?" Ana smiled. "Only time will tell dear. So, lets get ya two agents back ta 'he B n B huh? All aboard 'he car! Jack bring the walkin' stick."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Fri Oct 05, 2012 10:37 am

Funny, it actually seemed like he was trying to be nice. For a moment Lyle wondered if there was something behind it, before stopping himself. They were going to have to work together anyway, so he supposed that Jack was just trying to make the job easier. "I suppose." The brown-haired man replied quietly.

It was then Anna rushed back, stopping Jack from touching the cane. It was then she changed her mind, deciding that the effects might be reversed should Jack want to take the risk and try it out for himself. It seemed to work. Which was quite a stroke of luck, all things considered.

"Well, you're not dead." Lyle observed with his usual optimism.

>> <<

They returned to the office part of the Warehouse before heading outside where the car was waiting for them. Lyle let himself into the back before the driver could get out to open the door. He could hear the driver mutter something under his breath, but Lyle really couldn't care less about what he thought right now. What Lyle wanted was a little bit a peace and quiet, somewhere he could retreat to and either read a really tacky pulp fiction novel or something really familiar, a Charles Dickens novel, perhaps.

During the drive back to the B&B Lyle was completely silent, almost disconcertingly so. When they finally pulled up, he let himself out of the car again, opened the boot and found that it contained Jack's luggage. He picked up the smaller suitcase and tucked it under his arm before heading inside. "I'm assuming you want me to help?" He asked, clearly not looking for an answer.

Inside, they were greeted by Meg. "I told you, Hart, it was mostly books."

"... Are you talking about my luggage?"

"Yes, it's upstairs on the landing. Feel free to chose any room you like, I know this isn't easy for either of you, but you'll soon get used to it. Breakfast is served at seven, lunch at twelve and dinner at six. If there's anything I can help you with, just ask." She said, with her usual grin. There was something very easy-going about Meg, it was as if she tried to make everyone around her more at ease. Lyle decided that he kind of liked her, in an odd way. She was interesting, certainly.

"I'll go and see to my luggage then." He nodded at Meg before retreating upstairs.

"You seem to have got your boots on anyway, Hart." Meg commented, leaning against the door frame. "It's just a shame about Keller there, you know? He's such a sour-puss, I doubt the Warehouse would have even considered him if it weren't for his talent. He's good at travelling and, by God, travelling is difficult right now. Maybe he'll warm up, if not, well... I don't envy you because you are in for a difficult time otherwise."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Wed Oct 10, 2012 2:22 pm

The ride to the B n B was quiet. Nothing much was going on, and things seemed to be going pretty well for Jack. He had a way to not limp (though he left the cane at the Warehouse. He didn't feel comfortable using it when he didn't really need it.) and he had finally found a way that he could help his country, though it wasn't the way he had initially thought it would be. He still smiled though. It had been a good day, it had been indeed. Everyone he was to be working with seemed fairly nice. (even Lyle, he thought.) Jack watched the scenery move outside the window. He had been in a car so much these past few days, it made Jack ecstatic. He had never had the opportunity before.

Once the car pulled up to a stop, Jack waited for it to be completely stopped, and then got out. His dusty pants kicking up a tad bit of dust on his way out of the car. He was surprised to see Lyle helping with his luggage, but smiled instead. "Uh thanks!" He called after the man. He just knew that there was a bit of goodness hidden underneath that hard and rocky exterior. That had been the first time someone had offered to help him with his things since the early stages of his crippling. Jack hobbled his way up to the B n B, a smile playing on his face yet again.

He smiled at Meg. She had said that. Jack made his way into the entry of the B n B and waited patiently for Megs speech to conclude. He smiled as he looked around. It looked much like his own home. It wasn't to massively spacey, and it was comfortable enough to be roomie enough for people to be there together in a living room. Jack was going to enjoy himself here. He just knew it. Jack looked up when Meg began to talk to him.

"Hm? Ah yes," He said, distracted by the room around him. He focused on Meg for what she said next, however. "Ah he's not half bad. I'm sure he'll warm up and be a perfect Agent! I mean, he can't be all bad. He did help me with my luggage. So I'm sure everything will be fine! I'm also sure the traveling has taken a bit out of him, and he's probably just as surprised as I am!" Jack smiled. He was happy; truly happy. "Thanks," He said, not really to anyone in particular.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Wed Oct 10, 2012 9:23 pm

Lyle picked a bedroom towards the back of the B&B, with a sloping roof and a single bed. The wallpaper was plain and inoffensive and he noticed that the carpet must have been removed at some earlier point in time because there was only ashy-brown floorboards underfoot. In one corner of the room, there was a large set of draws, Georgian in style, next to a much smaller, much more modern wardrobe that couldn't have been more than a few years old. By the small, but perfectly adequate bay window, there was an equally small writing bureau and a spindly-looking chair. Though mismatched, the accommodation was fine. Lyle started to unpack slowly, putting his papers in the bureau and his books on the windowsill. There was a quiet repetitiveness to these tasks that made uneasiness give way to a quiet melancholy.

>>> <<<

"My my, you are positive, aren't you? Well, I certainly hope you mean that because Agent Keller seems like he's going to be difficult. To tell you the truth, I think you worry him a little, I think he was hoping for a partner that was a little bit more like-minded. You two seem to be polar opposites, if you don't mind me saying so. Your briefing will be in the morning, as for now, I've laid out a cold supper in the kitchen and I'll be around if you need me." With that, she turned around to go. "Oh, you could try talking to him later, you know. Just don't be too upset if he snaps at you. I'm thinking that's a reoccurring theme with him."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Sun Oct 28, 2012 6:53 pm

Jack smiled. "I try my hardest to stay positive. I mean, I did grow up on the farms and crush my leg at a young age, so I try my hardest to keep a smile." It had been true. His mother had told him off for being so positive, but he just kept smiling. Jack listened to Meg, and nodded every once and a while. He sure hoped that Lyle would warm up to him, otherwise this job was going to be a pain in the ass for both of them. Jack smiled at Meg. "Thanks! I mean, thanks for everything. I know it's your job, but it must be hard to keep everything up and running here, and thanks for the dinner." He was turning to leave before he turned back to hear what Meg was saying. "That's a good idea. I mean, if he'll listen to me for once." Jack laughed softly, grabbing his bag before limping up the staircase.

The hall was fairly long with many doors. Jack looked from door to door before picking the one closest to the stairs. It had a nice large window on one end of it, a small brown work desk and enough room to spread out with a game of cards. Their was a small lamp sitting on a brown, rather old looking, bed side table. Jack smiled before placing his bag on the bed and taking out his trusty deck of cards.

________________

The cold dinner had been placed out on the table, and their was the man with the short black hair and the brown eyes playing Solitaire alone with a plate with neglected food. It was a bad habit of his, but he didn't eat much for dinner. Hell, he didn't eat much in general. Jack placed a two of spades down on a three of hearts and continued his game play. The cards were worn with age, and the corners were peeling off of themselves. The card deck was with Jack through out his childhood, playing solitaire whenever he felt especially alone in the world, and this was no exception. Jack sighed before taking a small bite of his buttered bread.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Wed Nov 21, 2012 11:00 am

It was only after the last few papers were placed in the writing desk, the books upon the shelves, and the clothes in the wardrobe that Lyle realized that he was actually hungry. The sun had long since set and he found himself wandering through the B&B in the dark, though he easily found the stairs again and he cautiously made his way down them. As the Englishman headed down to the kitchen, he decided to make a list of things he knew. It was an old habit, more of a quirk, really. Something Lyle was prone to doing when he wasn't sure of things.

1. There was a place called Warehouse 13, it was in the middle of the Bad Lands. This Warehouse stored and neutralized dangerous artifacts.

2. He was expected to find and retrieve these artifacts, though not alone, his fellow Agent was apparently supposed to help.

3. The work he was supposed to do was incredibly dangerous, though they weren't getting soldiers to do it. The opposite, really. A man with a limp and a pacifist.

4. There was a war on and the other side new about these artifacts. If they know about them, then chances are they intend to use them.

5. From points three and four it is possible to work out several things. Firstly, the Warehouse was getting, very, very desperate. Secondly, they'd already tried soldiers and it hadn't worked out well.

Lyle got the feeling that the only way most people left the Warehouse was in a wooden box. Briefly, he wondered how many had died before while doing this job, he then, for another brief moment considered his odds of survival. They weren't very high. He guessed that relations between the Warehouse and the government were probably wearing very thin. If he was right, and he usually was, the Warehouse had probably lost the government a couple of their best soldiers. Now, Ms. Rodriguez and her little team were hiring the two of them to rub the government's nose in it. Or so it would seem.

It was in this rather bleak mood Lyle found himself in the kitchen, picking over the slightly meagre, but perfectly adequate supper that Meg had laid out for the two of them. It was only then he realized that unless he wanted to head back to his room, the only place to sit was directly opposite Jack.

"I don't expect you'll believe me, but I think we haven't been brought here to hunt artifacts." Lyle said slowly, pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. "Well, we have in the sense that they're going to send us out there tomorrow, but, in reality, we're more of a political statement than a viable option for Warehouse agents. Didn't you think it was strange that they picked us, of all people? They, the Warehouse, are sending a message to the American government. It says 'we're going to do things our way and you're not going to complain about them'."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Dec 10, 2012 8:06 am

As the sound of footsteps came closer to the table, Jack didn't even bother looking up. He continued ignoring his food and placing black cards on red ones, and red ones on blacks. Jack wasn't the type of person who would become skeptical of these sorts of things. He had been given a second chance at life, and another chance to prove himself. He wasn't particularly religious, and nor did he think of himself in that was in the slightest. He was really just a man who wanted to prove himself. It was a sad statement, but it was true. He had worked on a farm his whole life, what did you expect from him?

Jack shifted in his chair into a more appropriate stance as he realized that Lyle was sitting down. He was talking, and Jack just listened silently. Jack stacked the cards back into a pile as he won the round he was on, and finally after Lyle had already been done speaking for a good amount of time, turned to face him. His face showed no emotion at all; he wore a blank, calm expression. "Why are you so apposed to helping out?" It was a gentle question, and didn't really reflect the rage that was bubbling up inside him.

Their was no hiding the fact that Jack had gotten into some scarps before. It was just a normal thing for most boys back west. But it was surprising that he was able to knock down the best fighter in the whole school, even with his disability. He had always been tough, and he wasn't afraid to use his words either, because they might hurt more than physical violence. Jack had a rather feisty tongue on him.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Dec 10, 2012 9:35 am

There was silence as he let the question sink in, then Lyle laughed, a single, solitary 'hah'. It was a laugh perfected to sound as bitter as it did sarcastic, and it sounded very sarcastic. "Why are you so desperate to die for a cause? I hate to tell you, Jack, but sometimes there's more intelligent ways of dealing with problems than letting oneself be offered up like a lamb to the slaughter." In truth, the remark was much sharper than he'd originally intended. He wasn't going to take it back, though.

"It wouldn't surprise me if we both died tomorrow. It wouldn't be contrary to the message the Warehouse is sending, if anything, it would affirm it. 'We're going to do what we want and you're going to like it, or we'll pick up some more untrained civilian agents and watch them die.' There's nothing I wouldn't put past these people. I don't trust them." Not that he trusted anyone.

He wasn't exactly sure why he was telling Jack this, maybe, subconsciously, he was looking for a fight. Lyle Keller had already decided he didn't like Jack, for whatever reason, his whole demeanour just irked him in some way he couldn't really place. From the blank look he was giving Lyle to his unshakable optimism, it was all utterly infuriating. It wasn't that he want to fight, he was a pacifist, the one thing they didn't do was fight. But... It had been a long day, it had been a long few days, really. He was running low on sleep and the silence of the place and the quality of the company was getting to him. Oh, not to mention the fact he was part of a political statement and was being treated as some pawn in a game he didn't have time to understand.

So, yeah, maybe he was looking for a bit of conflict.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Dec 10, 2012 9:52 am

Maybe he was hoping that Lyle would come around, and admit to being wrong, and just admit that he was jumping to conclusions. Jack knew he wouldn't. He knew his type. It wasn't very hard to place. Jack tapped the cards onto the table, and faced Lyle. A smirk was on his face. "Wow. You really don't know a single thing now do you?" Jack wasn't really looking for an answer, and only paused to tie the string that held his cards together around the deck. "Look, I wouldn't really expect someone like you to understand where I'm coming from. We come from completely different backgrounds. It's not really surprising that you wouldn't understand. I've worked every single damn day of my life, even after I almost lost my life. Now I don't know how you were raised, but I will say that it must not have been the way I was. I've worked, and have been expected to work, since the day I could walk. I've had to support my family since I could remember. I've been looking for some way to show that I'm worthy. I've wanted to join the war efforts since the war started. I wouldn't expect a pacifist like yourself to understand why."

Jack stopped to take a breath. He needed to calm down before he launched himself across the table and punched the face of the older man. He really didn't want to get kicked out of his only chance at proving himself. Jack took a deep breath before continuing. "You can not trust them all you want, but I'm not going to ruin my chances at serving a country I care for and helping my family." Jack rose from his chair, and grabbed his deck before pushing in his chair and limping towards the doorway, leaving his dinner still untouched. "Goodnight Keller."
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Fri Dec 14, 2012 3:29 am

The dark-haired man didn't reply to Jack's speech. He wanted to say something about how the last war had been 'the war to end all wars' (and it hadn't been). He wanted to say something about the Jewish side of his family, part of which was still stuck in Austria. He wanted to make bitter remarks about his childhood and the public school he'd gone to. How he'd been a young boy with German grandparents and German parents and a German accent and how no one had let him forget that for a single second. The accent he'd eventually gotten rid of (Lyle couldn't have sounded more British as far as accents were concerned), but... the knowledge that violence only lead to more violence was something he lived with since then. But, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

Lyle sighed deeply as Jack turned around to leave. Now he remembered why he hated conflict. He waited ten minutes or so until he was sure that Jack had gone into his room before heading upstairs himself. Despite how dark it was, Lyle easily found his way back up the stairs and into his own room. The clock on the wall told him that it was barely eleven.

He chose a book at random from what he'd brought with him and sat down on the spindly chair by the writing desk. The words were barely registering, but they left him with little else to concentrate on. Slowly, he tried to forget the Warehouse and his fellow agent and everything else that had happened during the course of the day.

>>> <<<

The next morning dawned bright and early. Which, in Lyle's opinion was completely unacceptable and utterly infuriating. Mornings should all piss off. Maybe they could just skip straight to afternoons instead? Muttering swearwords under his breath, he rolled out of bed and went to get himself ready. If he was going to die as a pawn in a game of cat and mouse between to exceptionally powerful organizations, he was going to die with a bit of class.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Sun Dec 16, 2012 6:20 pm

The steps creaked as Jack made a limping step up the stairs. He was stewing with pure rage at how naive Lyle was. He also seemed not to care for how anyone else felt. Jack wasn't going to let it get to him, but that might've been just what he was telling himself. Hell, it was just what he was telling himself. He was just furious at him. He was furious he had to be paired up with him, someone who has no interest at all in helping his country in the war. No interest in trying. It infuriated Jack to no end. He kicked the small desk with his lame foot that sat in his room as he entered it, and cursed as quietly as he possibly could. It hurt, but he wasn't going to squeal it out to the man downstairs who was a coward.

Jack closed the door behind him before settling himself on his bed. He knew their was no hope for him sleeping tonight. He pulled out a small, beaten up journal from his front pocket and pulled out a pen and began to write in it. He had been writing in this journal for a long time. He filled them up fairly regularly, but this one had been special. He only wrote the things that happened to him that were very special. He had written about when he got his first horse, when he fell off of his horse and gotten his limp, when he helped the local police officer solve a murder mystery, and this was most definitely a thing of importance. He settled himself on his stomach on the end of the bed and began to write.

****

Even from the small amount of sleep he got, Jack was awake before the sun. He stretched, and got dressed, and then made his way downstairs. He wasn't surprised to see no one else awake in the house, so he just nodded before exiting the B n B and going for a walk. He had plenty of time before the rest of the people would be awake. Jack came back to the B n B as the sun was rising, and opened the door with a satisfied smile. He was prepared to take the day on with a positive attitude even if his partner seemed to be an insufferable prick.
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PostSubject: Re: Warehouse 13 - 1940   Mon Jan 28, 2013 12:24 pm

Sufficiently classy, Lyle headed downstairs, weighing up potential insults as he did so. It was always best to be prepared. And while Lyle Keller was prepared against cases of staircase wit, what he was not prepared for was the letter that was lying in the kitchen with his name on it. However, Lyle had no idea about the letter and as such, was as cheery as you could be while contemplating death via cult-like organization and trying to remember another word for ignorant. Since Jack was both of them. Definitely.

Meg had already set out breakfast (a slightly burnt breakfast, but a good one nevertheless) and was now trying to look busy, though she was carefully listening for the sound of Jack coming back from his walk. While she could deal well enough with war everywhere else, what she would not have was war in the kitchen. Especially not between two perfectly capable-ish Warehouse Agents. Part of her reasoned that she wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter, the part she always chose to act upon reasoned that as long as she had things to throw and buckets of water, she would absolutely have a choice in the matter, Agent Keller and Agent Hart be dammed, the ridiculous, childish idiots they were.

Lyle came into the kitchen and sat down at the table with a sigh. "Good Morning, Miss Blarney. Thank you for breakfast."

"Something improved your mood?"

"Not particularly Miss, I have just come to the conclusion that being rude towards my fellow... employees of the warehouse isn't an efficient way of dealing with things."

"I heard the argument last night. Don't ask; thin walls, sensitive ears, the lot. Anyway, yes, Mrs. Rodriguez is taking a risk with you, but you two are a hell of a lot more than a political statement, trust me. There are other ways of retrieving artefacts than punching someone's lights out, and I'm sure you two will be inventive enough so as to not let Agent Hart's, er, problem get in the way of..." Meg trailed off as she realized Lyle was no longer paying attention to her and was instead reading the letter that had been set out for him.

Lyle was dumbstruck, for the first time in his life he couldn't really figure out what to say. Elliot Fleischman was dead. He'd been one of the family's closest friends. An uncle of sorts to Lyle, he'd even visited a couple of times during Lyle's childhood. He always went back though, while most people were trying their best to leave Germany, he'd always gone back. The letter from his mother had omitted enough for Lyle to know it hadn't been a natural death. Shot in the street probably, he'd always been too wilful for his own good. God, why did he have to get the news today? Lyle blinked a couple of times, finding it difficult to imagine the never-serious bearded man he'd always known... gone.

"Keller?"

"Family friend died."

"Sorry. Are you going to have to head back to England for the funeral?"

"No. I'm surprised we even found out it." Then feeling as if he should offer more of an explanation, he added. "German friend of the family."

"Ah."

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