Tracker Dog Application Series 9
Username: MishaMinion
Tracker Dog you want: #28
Name you'll give it: Flagg
Reason why you want it: My god.. this is probably the most gorgeous tracker I've ever seen. Her entire concept is very interesting, and I think she has a lot of potential.
Will it be used in any kind of story?: Definately. I love writing stories for the tracker I have now, and there's already so many good ideas going through my head for Flagg.
Describe its personality:
There's a few different personalities depending on her situation.
On the job, she is a risk taker. Somewhere in her mind, she knows how dangeous she is, and it gives her a fearless demeanor. While this is a factor in her work, it doesn't take away from her loyalty to orders given. Those she follows closely, to make sure the job gets done right, but she always does it in her own way. In a choice between safety and risk, she'll take the path of danger for the excitement of it. Never has this posed a issue, as her high intelligence lets her evaluate a situation and tell whether the risk will still allow for the work to get done right.
While dealing with people she is relatively gentle and protective, contrary to her threatening looks. This stems from a sensitivity to those who look at her with disgust and fear. She wants to show that it's purely external.
Write an introduction for your Tracker:
"Flagg. Come on Flagg we have to go"
The slender tracker turned to heavy, frilled head towards the voice from where she sat overlooking the well groomed yard of the department. Her owner waited, his breath huffing a bit impatiently. Flagg rose from her sitting position, plates shifting smoothly as she moved. One would think that her armor would make her clunky and awkward, but every move was fluid.
As she moved towards the voice, a reluctant hand patted her side. Flagg shrank back at the touch, because she could feel it. The same touch almost all of them gave her. It was as if she were some toxic disease, and touching her meant death.
"Come on girl. They need you at the base again" the man spoke to her softly, as if she were a child almost.
Flagg hated the base, more than any other place she was sent. "The base" referred to a army station somewhere in the Middle East, and there was always so much violence. So much death. She was accustomed to it by now, but it would never be enjoyable to matter how many times she was sent there.
Their transport, the jet, had landed. Flagg could feel it's presence as she was led closer. Soon she was walking up the sloping boarding ramp. Her owner spoke with the pilot for a few minutes, and Flagg could her their conversation clearly.
There was a shuffling thud, maybe a stumble, then "What the hell is that?"
Another huffing breath from her owner "That's my tracker sir. And keep your voice down, I don't want you making her nervous"
Make me nervous? Flagg thought You think yelling will make me nervous when you throw me into a desert full of gunfire?The pilot lowered his volume slightly "That thing looks diseased. Are you sure it's safe to have on my plane?"
"She. Not it, she, and she's very healthy." Her owner spoke softly "Look, you just fly and don't worry about it. Ok?"
A mumbled response and a loudly shut door was the answer.
Flagg didn't hang around any longer, and walked further into the jet. She jumped onto one of the larger seats in the back, and let herself fall asleep. She'd need all the rest she could get.
Three hours later, Flagg was woken gently by her owner. She leaped down from the seat and stretched, her armor making a little rattling sound, and back frills spreading widely. As she exited the jet the pilot did not leave the cabin. Flagg was not suprised.
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The army base was small, but buzzing with activity. Flagg noticed immediately a difference in the mood of the place from other times she had visited. The soldiers were afraid. Obviously something had happened. Something big. She kept close to her owner's side, not wanting to disrupt the flow of things.
"Let's get you some food, then we'll see what they want us here for" The man beside her said, then began walking.
Flagg followed, realizing that she was rather hungry. When they arrived at a closed off meeting room, guarded by a few soldiers, she was given a large bowl that was overfilled with food. Obviously they would be needing the toxin in her organs to be at full effect today.
After the food was finished, and plan discussed, Flagg was loaded onto another jet, this time without her owner. This frightened her deeply. Every mission she had been sent on, he was there with her. Giving instruction and support. Before she had ascended the ramp, he had told her what would be expected of her in full detail, maybe even more detail than usual, but it didn't change the fact that Flagg would be without him. On the plane she found she could not rest, as she usually could on the rides. Instead she paced back and forth, trying to ignore the stares from the small platoon of soldiers on board.
A warm touch. A gentle hand on her side is what tugged Flagg out of her trance-like pacing. One of the soldiers had reached out as she walked by, and placed his hand on her side. But the touch wasn't of fear. It was curious, and almost caring. Flagg let him pet her for a minute or two, as if she were a family dog, then continued on her way.
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The mission was simple. Track down a small band of terrorists somewhere in the mountains, and wipe them out. Flagg was confident that it would be easy to do, but worried about making sure the soldiers were safe. Although keeping them alive wasn't her job, she didn't want to see them get hurt. Right after the jet landed they set off on foot into the chilly mountains. One of the soldiers, probably a sargeant, had given her a small scrap of cloth torn from one of the men they were tracking, and immediately Flagg picked up the scent. They had been here, not long ago. She trotted by the side of the man who had pet her on the jet, mentally placing him as the group leader, and not knowing why.
Although the trail was clear, Flagg could practically see it, it wound up thin cliffs and treacherous rocks. While the tracker had no problem leaping easily through any obstacle, the soldiers took much longer to get around things. And every minute longer they took, the trail was getting colder. Flagg growled lowly, impatience setting in. Her dark coat, accented by the green organs that pulsed outside her body, stood out clearly in the swirling snows. Knowing they would be able to find her easily, she went ahead, not bothering to wait for the men struggling up the steep cliff.
Flagg found the terrorists easily. They had hidden themselves in a shallow cave, a dark scar on the mountain. They made no effort to keep quiet, or even have guards. Flagg huffed a small bark to get a sense of how many there were. Twelve. Three less than the soldiers who were making their way up.
When all of the men had finally reached the area where Flagg waited, they realized she had led them directly to the hideout. This was the first time many had seen the work of a tracker, and they were amazed.
Flagg, without waiting for an order, made the first move. She bounded full speed into the cave, using the element of suprise, and shot the toxin from her body into the huddle of men who'd been talking among themselves. Only a few were hit, but the effect was immediate. Four of the terrorists fell to the ground, unable to move. The other eight scrambled for their guns and began firing not at Flagg, but into the night outside the cave where they knew there were soldiers.
The dark tracker continued to release the toxin, slowly picking off the terrorists. She managed to take three more before a bullet smashed through her side.
The pain was immense, and pulsed through her in waves. Flagg stumbled unsteadily, then fell with a dull thud. Gunfire still roared in her ears, and fear for the soldiers crept into her mind. She couldn't do anything until the toxin took some of the pain away. It only took a few minutes to come into effect, but if felt like an eternity. Once the agony ebbed away a bit, she struggled to her feet, and forced herself quickly out of the cave, barely avoiding more bullets.
There were three soldiers dead, four wounded. Most of the terrorists had been taken out, as far as Flagg could tell only two remained. Flagg was devistated. Now she understood why her owner had stayed behind. Not everyone was going to walk away from this alive, and he didn't want to be one of the dead.
The gunfire didn't last much longer as the last two were picked off. The remaining soldiers rushed to the injured, applying whatever bandaging they could. Flagg let one of the injured use her as a crutch, and they began back down the mountain.
[That was too much like work XD]
