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Action, Anime, Cyberpunk, Dystopian, LGTBQ, Mystery


ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
POSTING GUIDEThere is a DAY and NIGHT post. Each player is required to post one of each during the designated time periods (you can choose to opt out of them, meaning your character won't be active during that period). I will always post something that clarifies when DAY and NIGHT begin so you don't need to worry about that. Once everyone has posted their official DAY, we will move on to night. Once everyone posts their official NIGHT, we will move on to day. And so on. DAY is from 5 AM - 5 PM and NIGHT is 5 PM - 5 AM (approximately). If your NIGHT/DAY posts bleeds into the next section, you can always move onto that.

What's the purpose of day/night posting? It keeps things flowing by allowing everyone the ability to take control of story progress, it ensures that people don't get ahead of one another timeline-wise, and it makes it simpler for people to become MIA in-character. If you ever need to take a break or skip, it's easier to skip over your character for that day/night!

This may sound confusing, but I promise it's not as difficult as it may sound. Once you start writing, everything will make sense! Just note that you will have plenty of time to post! If you still are confused, feel free to ask me or Sushi since she has experience with this method.

Unless we are all in the same place, please include your character's name and location at the very minimum.​
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ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

Good Morning Avalon City - Day 1

August 16, 2258

↓L of 76 degrees F. ↑H of 90 degrees F. Showers are to be expected between 6-8 AM and 2-5 PM.

It's been over two months since the end of the X Murder sprees. Things have begun to quiet down and people aren't as worried that they might be next. There's still some talk of it and there are even a few blogs concerning the X Murders. It's mostly getting written off as a normal thing or even an attention stunt, as murder and crime are quite common in Avalon City after all.

Due to the growing tensions between humans and cyborgs and the fact that all X Murder victims were humans, the Avalon City government was able to successfully pass a long awaited bill that has been in the making for nearly two years. It went into action on August 14, 2258. The "Stay Safe" bill states:

"All human personnel are legally allowed to ask a person's race and may reject service and/or entry into one's business on the basis of being a cyborg."

It is currently August 16, 2258 and before Founder's Day (big celebration preparation everywhere). All characters will receive a letter some time during the DAY, and it is up to the players how they'd like to receive the letter. I will be here if you want to throw some ideas around or need help coming up with a good scenario. Please look at the rules in the OOC and check the posting guide located at the top of the IC thread. If you have any question's, I'm here.

Time is relative to your characters. If you end up interacting, please ensure you both are at the same time of day. Remember not to pass 5 PM as that will transition into the NIGHT portion.

This is the letter that everyone will receive. However, one thing is different. On the outside of each envelope is a boldly written number. Everyone has the chance to figure this puzzle out and what it will lead to. Since I am playing a private investigator, I will reveal one clue through Evelyn until everyone gets it. You're free to discuss the puzzle in the Discord channel labeled "discussion."

Brianna: #8
Carlos: #5
Elijah: #6
Evenlyn: #9
Gemma: #6
Mackenzie: #0
Sonia: #7
Person 8 is TBD

August 16, 2258

I'm sure you thought it was over. Unfortunately, it isn't. By now, you're probably wanting answers, and I assure you I have them. Figure this puzzle out and you'll know where the next clue is.

At 11:30 in the evening on August 16th, Lincoln went for a walk down a street with the same name as him. He passed 3 apartments and noticed many people who were similar to him but not him at all. He says to himself, “In time we will all be in the same place and everything will be clear.”

Present Cast:
- Evenlyn Hashur by @Koala
- Carlos Price by @Javierzz
- Gemma Sol by @sleepygingko
- Brianna Shimamoto by @Kawashima Lightning
- Mackenzie Raymond by @dogsbeforedudes
- Elijah Hastings by @jakthemenace
- Sabrina Miller by @Sushi Muncher
- Sonia Caine by @Feywild
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Just a city boy
Carlos Price
Location: Gallery District | Time: 11:00 AM | Interactions: Open | Mentions: @sleepygingko (Theo)
Three months. It had been three months since Jessica was found unceremoniously dead somewhere in the fringes of the Gallery District. Three months since Carlos had received those damned letters. He'd read them once, twice, three times; honestly, Carlos lost count of how many times he'd read those irritating things. Every time he expected to find something in them that would lead him to some sort of conclusion, and every time he was just left angry and confused. Death follows you wherever you go... The badge you were once so proud of is a farce. These phrases were small bits of the original letters that were there to taunt Carlos, as if whoever had killed Jessica wanted to provoke him and get his blood boiling, which was something Carlos vowed to make the culprit dearly regret. Despite how bothersome those parts had been to Carlos, they weren't the reason for Carlos' obsession with figuring out who murdered Jessica Stone. First, your colleague... It took Carlos no more than a single read for him to realize that the letter was referring to Kramer. Did this fucker set me and Kramer up or... kill Kramer? The thought was enough to send Carlos into overdrive. He'd always suspected that he and his partner had been set up back then, but he never knew who'd done it or why, though he had his theories, all of which were without enough evidence.

Carlos hadn't bothered to go back home the previous night, as he'd ended up spending the night in The Adjudicators' headquarters, looking over the photos he'd gotten of Jessica's body and the letters. Due to his original job, Carlos had been able to pull some strings to get his hands on police files from Jessica's murder as well as the body itself, which was returned to the girl's remaining family as soon as he'd gotten the information he'd needed to look over. Something didn't seem to fit and the police's incompetence meant that the files they had on her murder left much to be desired, and the less said about their files on the mysterious "X" the better. Despite the fact that his business had been growing quickly and that parts and procedures were moving through the walls of his organization at an all-time high, Carlos found no solace. The murder bothered him, as did the callback to Kramer's death, which unearthed old wounds Carlos thought long gone. Having spent all night looking over the letters and information on Jessica's death did Carlos no good, which was incredibly frustrating. Trying to get people outside of his organization to help him investigate yielded no results because everyone thought the case was closed and no one seemed to want to deal with it anymore, seemingly content with pretending nothing happened, all of which was even more frustrating.

As dawn broke through the dusk, Carlos still sat at his desk looking at everything in front of him, still having figured out nothing of significance. In his office, it was basically impossible for Carlos to tell what time of day it was with it being located at the heart of The Adjudicators' headquarters and shut out from the outside world. He rubbed his eyes a little as he continued looking over the letters, part of him wondering if he was going insane or if there really was more to it than it seemed. On one hand, there had been no murders in two months, and on the other, the references in his letters and the mysterious mark found on each body had to lead somewhere, they just had to. There was also the fact that some kid who'd worked for Carlos' underlings also died and was also found with the same marking as Jessica, which only further fueled the fire within Carlos that pushed him to find whoever was responsible. Even though he never got his hands on that body, he did get images from his henchmen What was curious, however, was that Carlos' letters made no mention of the boy, which meant that he probably wasn't the direct target with regards to that particular murder. Blackbird had picked up footage of a few other people asking around with regards to the murders, which further served to support that notion. It was a lot to process, and Carlos hadn't gotten enough sleep to deal with it properly. He looked down at his watch, noticing that it was almost 08:00.

Carlos sighed and closed his eyes, deciding that he'd take a small break to clear his head. By the time Carlos opened his eyes again, everything seemed... different. It was almost as if everything around him had changed in an instant even though he was still in the same office with the same papers in front of him, and it seemed as though nothing had moved. Yet, Carlos heard noises that weren't there; hover cars traveling back and forth in the distance, people chatting and walking around outside of his office. He furrowed his brow with confusion and rubbed his eyes once more before turning to look down at his watch. 11:00 AM. Damn, I must've fallen asleep here. Carlos cursed under his breath before pushing himself back and standing up from his chair. Stretching his arms a little, Carlos took the files in his desk and stuffed them all into a folder and tapped his watch a couple of times, prompting a holographic number pad to appear before him, which had odd symbols in the place of numbers. He rapidly typed a long code into the screen and waited a few moments as his desk sunk into the ground and was replaced with another identical desk. He opened a locked drawer and stuffed the folder into it while pulling out his trusty pistol, branded Justicar along the side of the barrel. With that, Carlos locked the drawer again, holstered his pistol, and typed another code into the number pad which caused his real desk to sink into the ground and be replaced with the decoy desk.

In a quick moment, Carlos put the pistol and its holster on his desk and moved over to his closet, which was seemingly an empty cabinet carved beautifully from wood. Everything in Carlos' office looked as though it were carved from wood, but every single piece of wood had graphene-coated titanium concealed within, designed to withstand even the most extreme punishment, and his important cabinets and drawers were protected with military-grade bomb-proof material above all that plating. In reality, the wood was simply the surface of Carlos' office, merely a ruse to make his opponents think that it would be easy to attack. He stripped his suit off and hung it neatly in the cabinet along with his shoes before bringing up the holographic number pad and typing another code in, which immediately caused the inside of the cabinet to vanish into the ground, replaced with another, identical inside which was filled with brand new suits. He picked out a simple navy blue suit with a silver tie and a light blue shirt with golden crow-headed cufflinks and simple brown shoes. Carlos typed out another code and the secret cabinet interior fell back into the wall, replaced by the decoy interior, which was now empty after his suit had been delivered to the cleaner downstairs. Closing the cabinet, Carlos proceeded to dress quickly. Once he was dressed, Carlos inspected himself in the mirror and straightened out his suit before moving back to his desk and grabbing the holstered gun, attaching it to his belt. As he walked out of the office, Carlos typed one final code into the pad which shut the lights inside off in the windowless room and locked the 4-foot thick reinforced titanium door behind him, much like the door of a bank vault.

Walking out into the main hall of his headquarters, Carlos found that everyone was going about their business as usual, which was good since everyone had a job to do and Carlos' presence wasn't necessary for them to carry it out. He made his way to the dining room, which was a decently-sized room with a tall ceiling and a medium-sized chandelier at the center which hung over the table. There were two pairs of human-sized statues, on either side of the table, that were positioned against the wall. One set of statues was of two human-sized crows standing guard on the wall, with each crow standing five feet apart and looking in opposite directions, toward the doors. The other set of statues, which was on the opposite side of the room, was of two spearmen, imitating what remained of ancient Greek statues, both standing five feet apart and looking in opposite directions, toward the doors. In between the crow statues there was a rectangular column, and in between the spearman statues there was a fireplace, mostly for decorative purposes. The column between the crows didn't seem like much, but it held a secret passageway for escape if the headquarters were ever compromised. The beaks of the crows and the spears of the spearmen held concealed weaponry which could be remotely controlled and was triggered automatically if anyone without a specific "signature" entered the room. This signature a permanent imprint on authorized personnel's skin and was invisible to the naked eye and served as a tracking signature for Blackbird, but it could be applied temporarily on guests (only by those authorized to do so). The chandelier above the table was capable of retracting its lights and producing small metal devices that shot out lasers, giving it 360-degree coverage of the room, which worked the same way as the statues. Every important room in the headquarters had a defense mechanism similar to this, which consisted of: the dining room, Carlos' office, the meeting room, the hidden bunker, the armory, and the connection room (which kept the whole headquarters and its technology operational and connected).

In the dining room, Carlos found his underboss, Oscar, and two people he didn't know; it was a young girl who looked to be in her late teens, and a slightly older man who looked to be in his mid-twenties. Oscar greeted Carlos, who immediately asked about who these people were and why they were in his dining room. "These are Mia and Jake. Jake works for me as a handler and mule for contraband and he's come to me about his sister, who has... a bit of an issue..." Oscar gestured toward the girl encouragingly and she hesitated for a moment before pulling what looked to be her arm out of her socket and showing Carlos the stump with fear in her eyes. "What is this?" The girl's eyes went wide as if she'd just been sentenced to die, but Oscar immediately raised his voice to respond. "Mia lost her arm a couple of days ago when she was pushed into traffic by some thugs. She was almost hit directly by a hovercar but managed to jump away, but her arm was still hit and badly mangled. It was amputated a few hours later and she's been using that thing to pretend as though she did have an arm. Jake wanted to get her a robotic arm but can't afford the procedure, both legally and illegally." Carlos' face showed no signs of having even heard Oscar's words, but on the inside, he was quite upset. What did she do to deserve this? After a brief pause, Carlos spoke up again, keeping his tone calm despite his inner thoughts. "This boy is one of us. Take his sister to the operating room, I'll pay for her arm. Have her describe these thugs thoroughly and send someone to have words with them." Oscar nodded and stood up, pulling Mia to her feet, who smiled beamingly at Carlos and thanked him profusely before following Oscar out. Jake stood up and turned to Carlos and bowed his head with gratitude, "I will repay you one day... I promise," and with that, he walked out after his sister.

Carlos took a seat at the head of the table and rubbed his temples for a moment, contemplating what he should do for the day. He tapped a button on his chair's armrest and a holographic menu appeared out of it, sitting in front of him. Deciding he didn't have too much of an appetite, Carlos chose a simple American breakfast from the menu with a glass of whiskey to ease his mind a little. It was quite an odd combination of flavors to drink with breakfast, but Carlos really needed to take his mind off of things. Once that was done, Carlos spun a small dial on the side of his watch and a blue light blinked twice out of it. Immediately after, a blue light blinked out from a small bulb on his side of the table, indicating that both devices had connected. "Display: Blackbird," Carlos spoke into his watch, at which point a small square opened up on the table and a holographic image rose out of it, showing the cameras equipped on both eyes of his robotic bird as he flew through the streets. "Return," Carlos commanded, and after a moment, the bird turned its head toward the compound and flew toward it, a small opening appearing on the outer wall once its signature was detected, allowing the mechanical bird to fly into the building. As it made its way through the halls, Carlos could see the bright red dots in the bird's sight, indicating those who were marked with the special signature to allow access for the entire compound. In only a few short moments, the door swung open and Blackbird flew through, perching itself on Carlos' shoulder.

The table opened up as the bird arrived and a plate of food was pushed up along with the small glass of whiskey Carlos had ordered, after which the table closed again, the boss' food now sitting before him. Despite not having felt too hungry before, Carlos ate through it surprisingly fast, downing his whiskey along with it in a single gulp. As he leaned back on his chair, Blackbird hopped off his shoulder and landed on his forearm, and Carlos pressed another button and the empty plate and glass vanished into the table immediately. It was then that Carlos noticed a small envelope clutched in the crow's talon. His eyes went wide and he immediately reached out to grab it, prompting the crow to fly back a couple of feet as Carlos pulled the envelope free. As his eyes went over it, he saw a large "5" written on the outside of it. Immediately, his mind shot back to U and the letters he'd received three months prior, and he showed the envelope to Blackbird, shouting "Capture," as the bird turned to look at the envelope and blinked, the image appearing on the hologram before him. He then looked down and carefully opened it, deciding it'd be best to keep as much intact evidence as possible. Once the envelope was open, Carlos placed it on the table in front of him and read the note inside. I'm sure you thought it was over. By now, you're probably wanting answers, and I assure you I have them. Figure this puzzle out and you'll know where the next clue is. At 11:30 in the evening on August 23rd, Lincoln went for a walk down a street with the same name as him. He passed 3 apartments and noticed many people who were similar to him but not him at all. He says to himself, “In time we will all be in the same place and everything will be clear. Carlos read it over and over again, unsure of what exactly was going on, but one thing was certain: the fucker was back.

Carlos noticed the time and date on the riddle and the mention of Lincoln, but he hadn't processed much more than that, the 3 apartments still unclear to him. Regardless, it was a start, and Carlos knew that whoever was behind Jessica's death was now back and actually giving him something to work with. He stood and walked toward one of the doors, calling out to Blackbird. "Come," he said firmly, prompting the bird to immediately fly toward him and perch on his shoulder. Blackbird looked around, moving its head quickly and irregularly to get as many angles as possible of its surroundings. "Disconnect," Carlos said into his watch, causing the bulb to flash red twice and the holographic screen on the table vanished and its source at the center of the table sealed. Once he was out of the dining room, Carlos turned to walk back toward his office, going through all the motions once more to get the door open and turn the lights on. Inside, Carlos pulled up the number pad again and walked over to another cabinet, tapping on the holographic display before him. A second later, the cabinet filled with books vanished into the ground and another came out to replace it, identical to the previous one. Blackbird flew to his desk to wait as he opened the new cabinet, its interior now littered with magazines, body armor, and a few other weapons. Carlos ignored the weapons and instead grabbed four magazines for the Justicar which he stuffed into his belt before turning to the body armor. It was thin and light, and cutting edge in terms of protection and impact absorption, but Carlos would still feel every hit and bullet he took while wearing it. Sighing loudly, Carlos grabbed his body armor and closed the cabinet, tapping on the holographic pad again, causing the cabinet to vanish into the wall as the decoy reappeared from the ground to replace it.

He stripped once more and slipped on the skin-tight body armor before putting his clothes back on. It was very strong bullet-proof armor, but it could hardly save him from high-powered laser weapons and explosions and it would break after enough impacts. Still, it was the best Carlos could get without it getting in the way of his suit and stifling his movement. Carlos whistled to his bird once more, who immediately flew to him and perched on his shoulder. He brought out his real desk one last time to grab the previous letters and stuff them in his pocket along with the new letter and its envelope. With that, Carlos brought the decoy desk back, shut the lights, and locked the door as he made his way out of the office. Alright, let's see what we can do with this new... development. He walked out of the headquarters and brought the holographic screen out from his watch once more, tapping another code into it before it vanished again. After a few moments, a vehicle flew down from Carlos' home, a good amount of blocks away, and stopped before him. Before stepping in, Carlos turned to Blackbird to issue a couple of commands. "Follow. Recon mode." The bird immediately took to the skies and hovered above the car, waiting for Carlos to begin moving. Carlos stepped into the car and spun the dial again, this time connecting his watch to the car. "Blackbird: recon visual," he called out, prompting a screen to appear before him, showing the feed from the cameras in his bird's eyes. Deciding he wanted to drive himself without having to issue commands, Carlos put the car in manual mode and dragged the screen showing Blackbird's feed down with his fingers, causing it to shrink and move down to the deck of the vehicle. With that, he took off.
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Kawashima Lightning

Rising Kpop Star
Brianna Shimamoto

Opening Monologue
It has been two months since the last 'X Murder' took place. Unfortunately for recently-widowed expecting mother Brianna Shimamoto, its been a little under four months since her husband was found...murdered. At first, the murders didn't really concern her, but when that letter was sent to her three months ago, she became concerned because of what the letter had said. Something about her being ready to bring her child into a cruel world. While the letter left her uneasy, she dismissed it as a prank, keeping it to herself. Then a few weeks later, her husband was murdered, with authorities having found him dead with an X on the back of his neck. He had ended up being the seventh victim to the 'X Murderer'. Since then, her pregnancy has been long and difficult; from her diagnosis with prenatal depression to having nightmares on a regular basis, all of which leaving her very moody and depressed. To her extreme dismay, the trail of the killer went cold and the ACPD declared a cold case. Still wanting answers for her husband's death, Brianna launched an investigation of her own. Sadly, even that came to a dead end. The young mother reluctantly gave up, instead focusing on her pregnancy, health and well-being for the sake of the babies that grow and rest within her...Michael's final gifts to her.

Location: - Home (Uptown) | Interactions: Open | Mentions: Not Applicable | August 16, 2258

Having fallen asleep early the previous night, Brianna woke up yelling the next morning. As her long, silky hair fell over her face, she shook her hair and straightened out, having it drap down to her back. As she regulated her breathing, she looked down at her swollen belly. Placing her hand on it, she felt her unborn baby kicking against it, prompting her to breathe a sigh of relief. Relaxing back into bed, Brianna looked at her clock. 7:30AM...when did she fall asleep? According to the sleep-tracker on her holophone, she had been getting between eight and eleven hours of sleep each night. If she was waking up at 7:30 in the morning, that means she fell asleep at...8:30PM. Sadly, her sleep schedule had been very sporadic. Some nights she slept at 2AM and wouldn't be up until 11:30AM, sometimes later. Then other nights she slept at 10:30PM and would wake up at 9AM. She then glanced towards her calendar; three days until her due date. But since her pregnancy was considered full-term, Brianna knew that she could go into labor at any minute. She then looked beside her, frowning as she remembered that Michael was gone. Sighing with a frown on her face, she slowly got out of bed and went to get ready for the day, starting with her hygiene. Throwing her , Brianna turned on the shower before quietly stepping inside. As it warmed up, the bathroom started to steam up and she proceeded to step inside before closing the door.

After cooling down and getting out, she wrapped a towel around her body before using another to dry off her hair as much as possible. After stepping out as the water slowly flowed towards the drain, she used the second towel to wrap it around her head while she went ahead to take care of her dental hygiene, brushing her teeth, flossing and using mouth wash. Once she spat out the mouthwash into the sink, she used her hair dryer and proceeded to style her hair as she always does; tying her hair into two buns before letting the rest flow downwards, reaching her back. As she entered her wardrobe, Brianna just grabbed a sleep dress and a floral robe, unsure if she was going to be leaving the house at all. Setting her towels on their bars back in the restroom, she turned the ventilation on to clear up the steam as she waddled down the stairs, gripping the railings to keep herself from falling and potentially hurting the babies.

As she got into the kitchen, she tapped the kitchen counter, bringing up a holographic interface. Scrolling through breakfast recipes, she selected sunny-side up eggs, bacon and french toast. The necessary instructs came up and she took out the necessary utensils and ingredients to begin the cooking process. Unfortunately the process was difficult due to her swollen belly keeping her a little under arm's length from the counter. Nonetheless, Brianna did her best to make breakfast. For a drink, she simply poured a glass of orange juice. As she smiled, her stomach growled, prompting her to frown. Just as she set her plate down on the dining room table along with the glass of orange juice, she checked her phone for the Weather. She rolled her eyes before hearing someone tap on her door. Weary, she slowly waddled towards the door, protectively clutching the swollen belly in a frightened manner. She then opened a pistol safe with her thumb print and brandished a gun as she got closer to the door. As she opened the door, she noticed that an envelope was taped beneath the peep-hole. She quickly grabbed the letter before closing the door and locking it. As she looked at the Envelope, she saw the number eight boldly written on it. She raised an eyebrow before waddling back to the dining room, putting her gun back into its safe before doing so.

Setting the envelop on the counter, Brianna then settled back down at the Dining Room table and proceeded to start munching on her breakfast, pondering about the letter.

As she placed her empty plate and glass into the dishwasher, Brianna grabbed the letter from the counter and waddled towards her office. Closing the door, she opened the envelope. It was a torn piece of paper with a riddle on Not only that, but the font was similar to the one used in the other two letters that she had pinned on her bulletin board that she planned to use to keep clues while investigating Michael's death.

August 16, 2258

I'm sure you thought it was over. Unfortunately, it isn't. By now, you're probably wanting answers, and I assure you I have them. Figure this puzzle out and you'll know where the next clue is.

At 11:30 in the evening on August 23rd, Lincoln went for a walk down a street with the same name as him. He passed 3 apartments and noticed many people who were similar to him but not him at all. He says to himself, “In time we will all be in the same place and everything will be clear.”

Sitting down in her office chair, she set the piece of paper on her desk, even placing her hand on her belly. She looked out the window, wondering what to do next. Brianna just groaned out of irritation before pinning the letter and envelope, with the number facing her on the bulletin board of clues that she had, which were two other letters; one that she got approximately two weeks before Michael's murder, and then another on the night of the murder. "I dunno, what you do think, what do you two think?" She asked, stroking the baby bump.

The babies started fidgeting. "Yeah, I didn't think so either. Honestly, mommy already wants to take a nap...and the day has barely started." she sighed, slowly got back up and started waddling back up the stairs and back into her bedroom.

The next hour was spent relaxing on her bed, the door was open and she had opened the blinds to let the lights in. Thankfully she had air-conditioning and was able to keep the house cool during the summer. Laying flat on her back, she casually just stroked and held the swollen belly. "Sometimes I forget how big I've gotten. My how you two have grown." She commented, thinking about how much weight she has gained and how big her belly had gotten. "My hips are non-existent, my tummy is the size of a watermelon. I can't even fit into my pants. But that's okay, I still love you. Just..." She sighed. "Just wish your Dad was still with us. I really miss his love, hugs and snuggles. I'm sure you do too."

As she began thinking about being a single mother, she took a deep breath to keep tears from falling and to keep herself from crying. Using her holophone, she proceeded to order a pizza, just as her stomach began to growl again. "Here we go again and it hasn't even been two hours." She chuckled before bringing up her holophone to put in an order with Pizza Hut. "Now what are we gonna be eating today for lunch...?"
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Time: One fifteen in the afternoon // Location: Midtown // Interactions: Open // Mentions: @Javierzz

"Don’t wait for me, Gem."

Red was her uniform. It crept underneath her fingers, dripped around her wrists like a lover’s grip, and it washed away in an angry hue at the end of the hour.

“How does it look, doc?”

“Handsome as ever,” she replied dryly.

“Marry me then,” he suggested with a cheeky smirk. He was one of her ‘regulars’ and, annoyingly, one of the chattier types. Never bothering to get personal with the names of her clients, Gemma had simply dubbed him Sparkles for the multitude of piercings along the ridge of his brows and on the lobes of his ears. The cheap vodka, which she had brought along for disinfection purposes, was either doing the talk for him or he was thoroughly punchdrunk.

Gemma snorted; it was the closest to a laugh that she has had in months and the sound of it was strange to her ears. “I’d be marrying a corpse at this rate.” Sparkles waggled a brow, the array of metal pieces glimmered against the harsh light above them. “Is that a yes?”

Ignoring his question, she began with a steady gaze upon him, “If I see you with an infection.” Her finger pressed onto the tender flesh right above the recently stitched wound on his abdomen. He was a lucky son-of-a-gun; if the stab had cut any deeper through tissue, there was nothing she would be able to do to stop him from bleeding out, no matter how fast she was with her sutures. A quiet hiss escaped the man’s lips as his body tensed from the discomfort of the increasing pressure of her finger. “I’ll give you another stab wound to cry over, you got that?”

She rose from her seat though she made no move towards the door, only looking at him expectantly. Her hair messily tied back had failed to catch the lingering dark strands that hung around her face and her choppy bangs clung to her forehead. “Keep the drink,” she said as she casually waved a hand in front of her. Payment had already been received before Gemma had even picked up the suture. All the same, her fingers danced across the display pulled up before her; with quick adjustments of the digits, she was charging him extra for the bottle and simply for the factor of inconvenience - unfortunately for Sparkles, this part of the district just so happened to bring back memories that made her ache with sadness.

Gemma… Oh, Gemma… Theo’s death must have hurt you. Perhaps it’s what he deserved, considering the illegal activities you both delved in. Do you think he was killed for you both?”

Whoever the hell ‘U’ was, he or she had too much time on their hands and clearly knew enough about her to write letters that made her blood run cold. Two months had passed upon receival of the first two letters; the words tauntingly stared back at her, sending her spiraling down a cycle of grief and unanswered questions. Later that afternoon, when she returned to her pathetic scrap of an apartment that teetered on the higher level of the crowded complex she resided in, Gemma’s heart dropped finding yet another letter wedged underneath her door.

With cold shaking hands, Gemma hardly registered the bold #6 on the outside of the envelope before she yanked out the letter and read it once over quickly before rereading again slowly, over and over in futile attempts to will the words swirling in her mind to rearrange in some order that made more sense than the bullshit on the piece of paper. Her initial instincts warned her that this letter was enticing her into a trap: the time, date and location were jumping out at her as if eager to promise her answers...and perhaps the same death that took Theo.

The letter fluttered onto the floor as Gemma’s mind raced. It had been months since Theo’s death had left her scrambling on her own and, as she hadn’t necessarily accepted the majority’s sentiment and the hasty conclusion of the ‘X’ murders, this third letter did nothing to help her through the struggles of mourning. How many times had she pulled up the last message she received from her brother. For days following his death, Gemma would play the hologram of his message on repeat, staring at the holographic image of him standing there, tall and lean, with a blurry background that told little of his last activity. Hey, I got an offer I can’t pass up. It’ll be another long night so don’t wait for me, Gem.

The end of his message froze upon his face with his devil-may-care grin spread across his sharply angled face and his rusty hair plastered wet across his forehead. Gemma had studied long and hard for any clues she could pick away from his message, from the way he dressed to the hazy shapes behind him. Of one piece of information she was certain about, it was that Theo had last spoke of finding a well-paying side job amongst a group under the illegal operations of Carlos Price. The man was another puzzle piece added to the mystery of Theo’s murder and, whether or not Price himself was directly related to her brother’s death, Gemma held on tightly to the only thread she could find. If she had to, she would follow it without rest and pull hard on it in hopes to find answers to quieten the questions that kept her awake at night.


ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
* Foul language is used.
Evelyn HashurLocation: Wang's Family Dining (Midtown)
Time: 1:00 PM approx.

The Mire was springing with life and more so due to Founder's Day preparations. With the national holiday coming up in less than twelve hours, people were running about like ants with a purpose. Different honking sounds echoed between the tall towers that made up most of Avalon City. People of varying sizes, colors, and races could be heard cursing at each other in fits of anxiety and anger. The old Evelyn would have been extremely overwhelmed with the amount of chaos, her eyes bulging out of her sockets like a goldfish's. Everything became normal after only a couple years though. Life would have been difficult for her if she hadn't adjusted quickly, especially when considering the amount of evil she'd faced as a SWAT operative. Now it all seemed like every day business and nothing could really get to her anymore.

All except those damned letters, of course.

On the first day of the so-called "X Murders," someone Evelyn held dear to her heart, though unspoken, was killed. Kyra Oliveira was a 29-year-old woman that spent her entire life working to get out of Avalon City. Working odd jobs since she was a young teenager, Miss Oliveira never complained about much and always had a bright smile on her face. It seemed like nothing in the city could taint her and perhaps that was what drew Evelyn to befriend the former. Making friends, and admitting to have them, was something the private investigator never cared for, but Kyra was different. It was like she was a flame and Evelyn was the moth attracted to it. The fact that U wanted to exploit that feeling enraged her.

For months she'd tried to find some sort of connection, but everything led her back to that annoying x on the victims' necks. Coincidentally, one of her acquaintances and a friend of said acquaintance were related to the victims. A joint investigation didn't tell them anything, however. It all circled around to the same clues and facts that the police gathered. There wasn't a general location that the murders took place. None of the victims new each other and neither did they share any similarities. It was like chasing a ghost. A awful joke, considering that ghosts weren't real, that they were chasing a literal dead trail.

A loud screech was forced out of Evelyn's bike, her rear tires skidding across the ground and spinning her in a half circle. The woman came face to face with a man with scars that hinted at the type of person he was. One scar across his left cheek, in particular, was so ugly and jagged that she found herself staring behind her dark tinted helmet. If not for they loud "Hey, Bitch," she probably would have kept staring, but now her blood was begin to boil.

"I said, 'Hey, Bitch.'" The man repeated, his goons emerging from the alleyway shadows and standing behind him. "What? You're blind and deaf? Why don't you go see a doctor and get that shit fixed instead of pretending you know how to drive?" As the man spoke, his group members snickered and urged him on. One of them even had the audacity to give the leader-looking fellow a nudge, saying something along the lines of "Good one."

Evelyn let out a quiet, deep and dark chuckle as she removed her helmet. Her strawberry locks fell like feathers to her shoulder and she looked at him with her hazel cat eyes. She ended tossing her hair back for additional impact, knowing full well where their conversation was headed. On a normal day, she would have thrown a few punches here and there to teach them a lesson, but she was right outside her destination and really didn't want to pay for any potential damages. Besides, it was Founder's Day Eve so there were more android enforcers patrolling the streets than usual. The last thing she wanted was for law enforcement to get involved.

Taking off her helmet was all she really had to do to shut them up anyways. The lot of them almost immediately shut their mouths, especially when she stood up and her cloak drifted behind her, revealing every inch and curve of her body. Some of the guys even whistled while the leader couldn't help the look of hunger in his eyes as he looked Evelyn up and down. They were truly disgusting.

"I'm so, so sorry," Evelyn said, her voice poisonously sweet. She strolled around her bike, booted heels forcing her hips to slightly sway at each step. She made sure to maintain eye contact with the quartet's leader, her rosy lips curved upwards flirtatiously. When she was facing the man, she made sure to put on her best mask as she spoke to him in a low whisper. "I was just in a hurry to get some food. You know how we females are." Leaning back against her ride, she crossed her arms, which seemed to emphasize the size of her breasts.

The leader glanced down for the slightest second before coughing and returning the eye contact. "Right, yeah," he began as he scratched his head. "I understand. I get like that some times too." The man looked at his companions for confirmation and they only nodded in response. "So... uh... sorry about calling you... you know, a bitch." His eyes kept flickering downwards as he spoke, and Evelyn couldn't help but internally groan.

"No, it's fine." She answered, waving her hands in front of her body. "I think I would've reacted the same way."

After a few seconds of awkward conversation, Evelyn founder herself waving the small group good-bye. They were ushering each other along the tattered road, stopping to look back every now and then. Evelyn stood there the entire time with a plastic smile on her face, as if she were showing how much of a good girl she was to those men. Unfortunately for them, her plastic smile melted off as soon as they were gone and it was replaced with a scowl.

"Typical." Evelyn sighed as she moved her bike to a secure location before walking towards her destination. People in Avalon City were in a class of their own outside of the normal social stratification. Of course, Avalon City was the only city she'd ever been to in New America, but it didn't seem likely that other places were any better off. The whole country was a scam if she were to be truthful. Nothing seemed genuine.

"Welcome!" Came a heavily accented voice as Evelyn entered her favorite restaurant.

The different scents of Chinese food blended in the air, leaving the restaurant with a strong, characteristic flair that tickled the woman's nose pleasantly. The restaurant's interior was warm in both design and atmosphere, with the colors leaving a Chinese impression and every seat filled with a smiling face. The walls were decorated with a pale orange wallpaper, a material discontinued many decades ago, that was beginning to chip in a variety of places. The ceilings were low-hanging and dangerous for some of the taller customers that paid a visit if not careful. Complementing the soda pop walls were wooden chairs and their respective tables and booths. There were even some knock-off paintings and plants as decoration.

Everything about Wang's Family Dining was an antique. While most restaurants had modernized to match current trends and advancements, the family restaurant somehow managed to stick to the old ways. As outdated as the place was, however, nothing could turn people away from the delicious food that exited its swinging kitchen doors. Every dish was cared for by the chef and owner of the building, Louis Wang. The man could whip up something that was filling, delicious, and appealing to the eyes faster than a race car could speed off. It was a refreshing change in comparison to other food joints in Avalon City, where many restaurants relied on androids to do all the messy cooking.

Walking by the different faces and filled seating arrangements, Evelyn was relieved to see her usual spot was not being occupied. It was a corner booth with small lights hanging from the ceiling that gave it a dimly lit effect. The booth was hidden by a half wall so it was difficult for people who entered to see the location, but it was easy for her to eye everyone that came in. In general, the corner seat was the perfect spot for a private investigator to go about her business, especially when she didn't want to be disturbed by wandering eyes. Plus it was the only spot where customers were allowed to smoke.

After plopping herself on the cushioned seat and sliding her body towards the wall, Evelyn propped a cigarette in her mouth and lit it. The taste of sweet tobacco painted her tongue and throat and she could feel her body instantly relax. The earlier confrontation with the quartet had left her body tense and she very much wanted to unwind physically right then and there, beating the men until they could hardly recognize one another. A ciggy was enough to appease her though, at least long enough for her lunch to come her way.

"Good afternoon!" Came a cheery voice. A young girl with snow buns stepped forwards with a touch pad in her hand. "What can I get you today?"

Evelyn nodded in acknowledgment. "Water and tell the chef that Evelyn is here, please." She was sure to be polite towards the end, even if she wasn't exactly the nicest person to be around. After being friends with Kyra for so long, she'd come to appreciate what those serving in the restaurant industry did. They had to deal with some of the worst types of people and ones that rivaled Evelyn's normal crowd even. It was a pity that those same types of people were now entering the building.

The men from earlier had stepped into the store, eyeing the place as if it were their own. They were pushing and shoving at each other like a group of hooligans on drugs. Two of them were even yelling profanities at each other loudly enough for a pair of young siblings to cower in the seats in fear. The mother of those children ended up gathering their belongings and ushering them out, as if she knew what was about to happen. Even a pair of aggressively tattooed men were eyeing the quartet with distaste and shaking their heads in disapproval.

Evelyn kept her eyes away though, preferring to gaze lazily at the television hanging on from the wall across from her. There was news about the new "safety" law, which was basically a blunt step towards racism. It allowed humans to decline servicing cyborgs on the basis of them being cyborgs. Utter bullshit if you asked her, but she figured something like that would happen eventually. With the amount of human deaths lately, it was only natural for humans to fear people weren't fully like them. Something about a human having mechanical parts really turned people off for some reason.

"Excuse me... EXCUSE ME! You all need to leave."

The restaurant suddenly got quiet aside from the low chatter than came from the TVs. Evelyn finally looked away from the screen and turned towards the group, noting the hostess that welcomed her was hot in the face. She couldn't hear what exactly was being said, but she could tell the Chinese woman was becoming increasingly flustered. The leader had taken the initiative to caress the woman's face with his burly hand, to which the woman slapped away. Annoyed, the leader raised his hand to hit her.

"Why you-" The man began before something hard grabbed his wrist.

"Raising your hand against a woman? That's not very nice." Evelyn began as she chucked the man's threw down, standing in between him and his goons and the hostess. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and let out a nice, heavy puff of smoke in the leader's face. He looked at her with a baffled expression, clearly not expecting her to be at the restaurant. Evelyn only scowled.

"Oh, it's you. Listen here, just because I let you off last time doesn't mean I won't-"

Before the man could finish, Evelyn had already taken action. Her knee flew upwards and landed between his legs, forcing him to bend over. One of her legs swung low, hitting the man on the shin and causing him to let out a painful grunt as he nearly lost his balance. With her free hand, she quickly reached for the side of his head and slammed it with a loud BANG against a nearby table. Taking another delectable taste of tobacco, Evelyn presumed to press the burning tip of her cigarette against the pale skin of his face. The man responded by thrashing in pain and yelling angrily as the sizzling sound of burning flesh filled his ears. The actions were followed by collection of "oohs" and "aahs" filling the restaurant as the customers watched with amusement, all except the leader's followers, of course who appeared fearful more than anything.

Evelyn pressed her bare skin against the man's body, the curve of hers wrapping around his like a blanket. "I only wanted to have a good day, yet you somehow managed to ruin it twice." The woman whispered coldly before forcing his body up, arm wrapped around his neck so he was forced to lean backwards.

"Fuck you, you motherfu-" The grip around his neck tightened and Evelyn aggressively jab at his rib cage. She grabbed a nearby fork and walked them both towards the door. The man was about to say something else, but she responded by pressing the eating utensil against his crotch very, very firmly. His breath hitched at the sensation and she could have sworn she felt his body shake in mild fear.

"Shut up and leave," Evelyn began while pressing the fork closer, "before I do something you don't want to clean up. Take your idiot friends with you." She pushed the man out the door and turned towards the remaining three. "What? Do I need to do the fucking same to you?" The men only responded by hanging their heads low and avoiding eye contact while they shuffled out the store. They picked their friend up off the ground and nearly over each other as they made their way down the street. Evelyn could only scoff.

That was when the kitchen door creaked open and a robust man stepped out. He has a full head of peppered hair with wrinkles that showed signs of his weakening body. In his hands were a piping hot plate of combination chowmein and a cup of his popular wonton soup. It was simple, but it was Evelyn's favorite.

"Is my food finally ready?" Evelyn snickered teasingly.

Last edited:


Short stuff
Sonia Caine
Location: Midtown | Time: 2:00 PM | Interactions: Open | Mentions: TBA

Looking back at the disaster that had occurred a few months ago, Sonia couldn’t help but wonder if it’d been her own actions that helped lead up to it. The night Claude was taken from her grasp constantly replayed in her head, memories of helplessness and alarm flooded her, yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Coming home to an empty workshop wasn’t unusual, Sonia hadn’t thought anything of it, tucking herself away to her own devices in a content seclusion. Nothing had felt off, there was no warning, only a letter she’d noticed perhaps a moment too late. It had been chilling to read, dread had speared through her chest and panic flared up inside her, raging into an uncontrollable wildfire as she cast the letter aside and ran. ‘Maybe it was supposed to be you instead.’ The words had blared in her head, dulling to mocking echoes the further she darted and lunged through the judging crowds and volatile traffic. Even now, she wanted it to be her that died instead that night. Everywhere she’d ran, nothing waited for her. Only her own heart sinking, shredding itself into pieces as she struggled to stay afloat in crashing waves of desperation and despair that this letter really spoke the truth. So she’d went back to her home, led on by a foolish hope that Claude would be waiting for her and the whole letter was a questionable prank. Yet all she was greeted with was silence, no voice called out to her and welcomed her back, nothing.

The next day they’d found his body, mangled and mutilated with a cruel ‘X’ carved into his neck. He’d been found in a place she never would’ve expected, it wasn’t a surprise that she couldn’t find anything on her rampant dash, but why had he been there and who had he been with? Needles of betrayal prickled at her, if only she could’ve joined him on his escapade, maybe the night would’ve ended differently. Instead she’d chosen to go out scavenging, getting bored of that half way through and choosing to drink a cheeky glass of the cheapest drink available before remembering her promise and slinking away rather grumpily. After his death had become public, she’d found that damned letter she’d thrown in her past flurry and stared blankly at it. Just when she’d made something for herself that was true and had made her chest bloom with genuine happiness, it was torn from her hands and spat on. The urge to shred it and lash out was undeniable, she’d almost went through with it, the paper being already crumpled due to her grip and her own fury would’ve made it very easy and satisfying to tear apart. But she didn’t, choosing to wipe away the tears that beaded in her lone human eye and set the letter down, letting herself succumb to her own sorrow on that night that felt so long ago now.

Her work had been put on hold briefly after his death, many clients were frustrated with the discovery that without Claude it was her that’d been put in charge. She couldn’t hold a conversation like him, she’d rather argue than speak in lies of false flattery and tone her voice down so it didn’t sound contemptuous. Her focus had shifted onto the letter, soon that letter doubled as another appeared two weeks later on the night of another murder. She’d been cracking down on her own investigating, Claude hadn’t been a sole death, the ‘X murders’ had been building up and Claude had been the second. Sonia couldn’t fathom what it was meant to mean, but she certainly realised that she could be at jeopardy, from what she’d found so far none of the victims had been anything but human. With what the second letter snarked on about, it wouldn’t surprise Sonia if it was all some ploy to get cyborgs even more hated than they already were. ‘Have you heard the rumours about the new cyborg law?’ There had always been whispers and curses muttered about cyborgs, but with the recent events only now was it truly a fear Sonia and what she assumed many others like her worried would turn out to be true.

In her time alone, she’d began to pick up jobs for people again eventually, fixing their androids to make sure she wasn’t left homeless and had some way of income. Sifting through said androids memories when she got her hands on them and pulling copies of them which she stored in her own personal software around her home. Programming it to overlook everyday tasks and focus on more peculiar settings that had been implanted into her clients bots. So far, nothing had come of it, other than a few rules and mods that cracked her up or made her cringe, there was still nothing that struck her as overly strange. Then again, whoever this ‘U’ was must’ve known that it was really her who worked behind the scenes, knowing that convinced her they wouldn’t just openly go to a mechanic who they knew was a cyborg. This whole situation was a mess, there wasn’t anything she really had the power to do other than think about the last few months and she wished she had something, anything that could offer her guidance in these troubling times other than two ominous letters and a bunch of useless recent activities and settings from androids. Most chatter about the murders had died down at bars, there was nothing to eavesdrop in on and it left her feeling a little frustrated even as she woke late in the morning.

Sonia didn’t have much planned for the day, she was wary to leave due to the streets likely being bustling with activity for preparation for Founder’s Day, but she’d mistakenly made a deal with one of her frequenters to go out to get some dinner. It wasn’t a date, more so they were just trying to coax a discount out of her with honeyed words and sometimes genuine concern. Shifting onto her feet, Sonia got ready for the day, throwing an altered version of her work clothes on and grabbing the android she’d been paid to fix. “Come on Crim, your mom wants you back.” Sonia sighed, hand falling onto the outdated model of Crim, lovingly named by its owner, and pulling him with her as she left the workshop and entered the hectic streets of Midtown. It’s owner was constantly getting the poor bot trashed in some way, sending it on tasks that got it damaged in various manners to the point where Sonia had stopped bothering to ask what’d happened and accepted it as just the usual. Crim was a patchwork of repairs and Sonia couldn’t help but pity the android, not all of the repairs were needed because of accidents, there was too many deliberate damages. Sonia found it quite disgusting that some people could be so cruel.

The place she’d planned on meeting her customer was in a little cafe tucked away from plain sight, Sonia had weaved them through the crowds and through its concealed front where her eyes darted to find the ever pristine woman who sat contentedly in the corner of the cosy cushion filled room, sipping on a drink. Advancing towards her, Sonia let the shadow of a smile slip onto her face as she planted the android next to the woman and sat opposite her. It wasn’t exactly a strained silence or an awkward one that fell over the two, the silence was welcomed with open arms by Sonia. Usually Sonia liked the quiet; in fact, she would have happily sewn most people’s lips shut. But the moment was broken when Anna put her glass down, flashing Sonia a catlike smile after inspecting Crim, “I see you’ve done a fantastic job as always.” Rolling her eyes under her shades, Sonia leaned back in her seat languidly, “is that it, only fantastic?” The other woman huffed, “last time I checked Sonnie, fantastic meant something impressive and outstanding, what do you want me to say?” Not responding straight away, Sonia only smirked, folding her arms satisfied, she turned to inspect the lack of people dining, only having a few others in company. “You’ve always had a knack for finding spots that aren't popular, I can’t tell if you’re blessed or cursed.” Sonia remarked, choosing to ignore the question Anna had posed to her.

“I’m definitely blessed,” Anna replied easily, flicking her chocolatey waves of hair off of her shoulder with exaggerated flair as she simpered, looking pleased with both herself and Sonia.

“Yep, you’re definitely blessed for having me grace you with my presence.”

“If that’s what you want to believe then sure.”

Their conversation flowed casually from there, only the occasional buttering up of Sonia occurred now and again before being shut down by said woman. Sonia would never admit it, but she was glad Anna decided to invite her out to pick up Crim every time the android needed fixing. After Claude’s murder, she was left to deal with the clients herself, she’d seen it as a hassle and deemed it a waste of time, Anna had been Claude’s friend not hers and Sonia didn’t need her pity. Slowly though, Sonia found solace in the company of the forever composed brunette and her strange lifestyle. The two had little in common, Anna was too put together and used her silver tongue to solve her problems unlike Sonia, but they shared a loss they could grieve over and try heal from.

“You haven’t heard anything new have you?” Sonia asked apprehensively, feeling guilty when the other woman visibly deflated, “I know I’m supposed to move on and accept everything, but it’s difficult! Call me obsessed but he was my friend and-”

“You are too obsessed, we clarified this weeks ago,” Anna interrupted her rambling, her tone curt and blunt, “His death means nothing in the grand scheme of life, he can’t come back, it isn’t some conspiracy, murder happens all the time here. Its just different now that it was someone you cared for.”

“Of course its different,” Sonia retorted irked, “The rest of the world can rot for all I care, it shouldn't have been him that died and I can’t let it go until I get to the bottom of this.”

Now this was a silence Sonia didn’t like, the hush of suppressed anger. Anna simply stilled, eyes dead as they seemed to bore through Sonia’s skull and peer into her quelled thoughts. Neither of them moved, all Sonia did was grit her teeth and shift her concealed eyes to the ageing table.

“I think you’re being selfish, but who am I to judge?” Anna finally replied quietly as she stood now, having dealt with Sonia long enough she knew it was just better to leave than let her carry on, she began tapping and swiping the air, Sonia hoped she was paying the full amount she was owed. “I’ll be in touch soon, hopefully you’ll have stopped your delusions by then. Come now Crim.”

With that the human and android left, the latter holding onto Anna’s bag and trailing behind her similar to a loyal dog, leaving Sonia alone to groan internally at everything she’d said wrong and what she could’ve said instead. There was no reason for her to stay here, the beverage Anna had ordered her earlier had been drunk and Sonia didn’t exactly want to get up to ask for another. Ignoring the stares of the others inside the cafe, Sonia slipped out a few minutes after Anna and skulked back down to her workshop. Always being in a perpetual state of anger was what her existence consisted of lately, usually due to her own actions which was even more fun. Maybe Claude had been shady and got himself killed, she wished the answer was as simple and obvious as that. Anna was probably right, she was obsessed for no reason after all these months and no action, it was all so frustrating. Opening the door to her home, Sonia lingered in the doorway, debating over whether she should just walk her anger off. It certainly seemed like a better idea than wallowing in it in darkness. So she set off again, no particular destination in mind, just absent wandering to clear her troubled mind.


Junior Member
__= Elijah Hastings = Location = A convenience store in Midtown Mentions: None = Interacting with: = None __

The city on the ground wasn't a place for a wealthy citizen. An upper-class, lofty member of a multi-millionaire family. One who lived in the high skies of Skytrop and not the lowly mire of the Mire. Yet a young man, looking to be about university student age and still holding onto proper roots, found himself frequenting the place once every two weeks. Whenever he was freed from college assignments and projects, he took the time to sneak away from the campus and take his flying car downwards. But first, he took the precaution to check if his clothing was fully covering his skin- or should one say, his scars.

The letters that he received right before he found out about his beloved professor's murder provoked him not in the way the killer intended...or did they? Since the string of serial killings had ceased around two months ago, the boy had accumulated a number of injuries from his self-conducted investigations. Sometimes, they were from foolish accidents such as tripping on an empty beer bottle lying around. Or it was a run-in to a metal pole while he was fleeing from an aggressor that was on the influence. Or it was a gunshot to the foot for stepping in exclusive gang terf. It was very easy to tell that he wasn't scouring in the better-off parts of Avalon. Battle scars were indeed honored in some mindsets, but for a person like him it was seen as savage. Explaining that they were signs of struggle would also make him seem weak and would probably make matters much worse. He wouldn't want the criminals of the city after him because an overprotective father decided to target suspicious organizations. Plus, he would probably be locked away from visiting the Mire until God knows when.

Once he landed, he would then look around the city for various crime scenes, ask around (with a dose of persuasion and pleading), and try to find whatever evidence he could get his hands on. But, as seen from his unfortunate consequences, none of the efforts would prove fruitful. Sometimes, he ended up with nothing at all. Other times, he would get his hands on something that might be useful. If so, what occurred next was an undisclosed trip to a research laboratory that his father owned. The kid fortunately wasn't dumb enough to come in looking weak and bloody. He would get treated somehow, either by himself or by a nurse he trusted to keep his escapades secret if it was worse than a surface wound. Strict parents create sneaky children, especially such a child like Elijah Hastings.

As previously demonstrated, the tests he would do would ultimately give him no leads to suspecting anybody. All he knew were the victim’s names and when they died. How could a victim be the perpetrator though? That wouldn't make sense, and he would have to find actual decisive evidence in order to figure out another fact than "the killer carved an X on their bodies and killed only humans in the Mire". That was why today was yet another day to start yet another venture. At around one in the afternoon, Eli descended into another downwards spiral.

Just an hour before, he found a scrap piece of paper slyly hidden behind the facial recognition mechanism next to his dorm entrance. Eyeing it suspiciously for a moment, he eventually pulled the strip out and went inside his room to scrutinize over it more. Unlike other people of the city, the case still hadn't left his mind after several months of downtime. His grip tightened to the extent that a hole was almost poked, but he stopped to avoid damaging possible evidence. More things would have to be considered then just the tricky riddle that baffled him quite a bit: the type of paper, the handwriting of "U", and the specific type of ink. Those factors, however, wouldn't be verified completely until he found other letters of the same caliber. And if the killer could have sent seven more of these…

There was also the possibility that different materials were used for each of them, which would be a smart move on the opponent's side. Eli would constantly get caught up in these traps that would go nowhere, and he was very tired of it. Yet, he still had the willpower to keep his composure a while after and carry on. Keeping the letter in a safe place, he gathers his bearings and locks his dorm before he went out to a parking airfield. The luxury car would look as battered up and worn as ever as it had accompanied him through and back. A glass window on the side was cracked due to a failed attempt by a thug to steal something valuable, possibly to sell in black markets underground. Lucky it was unsuccessful, because Eli still didn't grasp the instinct to keep his possessions protected at all times.

After leaving the floating island that the campus stood on, he parked his car somewhere in front of a convenience store in the county of Midtown. The LED display on the storefront flashed on and off in different colors, enticing him to walk in and ask around for any clue. There were many people in the Mire he hadn’t questioned yet. The cashier at the back of the counter glanced at the boy cluelessly entering with a slightly amused face. His proper attire looked pretty out of place with the style of most city goers and his expression looked awfully uptight. As usual, Elijah walks up to the employee to inquire about the murderings, and if they knew any of the victims. As usual, the inquiree had no idea what he was talking about or how to answer. Their co-worker, having heard everything, came out from the shelves and made a sly joke to the other.

“Mr. Skytrop over there should hit the bar ‘round the corner and drink all of this away, don’t you think?”

The cashier scolded them for that remark to an obvious minor and turned back to him to apologize for their words with a half-assed tone. Eli takes this as a sign that he should stop for now and just buy something to compensate for their time. A small snack bag would do for now. Still looking somewhat uncomfortable in this atmosphere, he takes it to the cashier to pay for it with his interface and exit while munching on it. He might as well ask the bar around the corner since they suggested that he go there.​


ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
Evelyn HashurLocation: E.H. Consulting a.k.a. Home [Part: Oldtown ; District: Red Light]
Time: 4:19 PM approx.

Evelyn parked her bike in the alleyway and ensured everything was secure like always. When she walked around the corner to her basement office and home, she noticed something white poking from the front door. It was rectangular, thin, and brought an ominous feeling to the core of the woman's stomach. Her hand shook slightly as she descended the steps to her home, and the feeling of anxiety was something that she'd only begun to experience again once the murders had begun. There was something eerie about them, but perhaps it was her only failure to secure a true lead that was causing her to feel insecure.

A gloved hand grabbed the envelope and she noted the number 9 was printed boldly on the front. There was nothing particularly special about it, but she did notice a faint smudge of black ink--as if the writer were in a rush. Pursing her lips as she glanced around, Evelyn stepped into the cool interior of her home and swiftly locked the door behind her. Her fingers reached for the small knife in her pocket before the letter was sliced open with ease.

As she walked, eyes glued to the unfolded letter, she walked over to her bed and pushed down on a small statue of the moon. A loud HISS filled the room as her book shelf appeared to open outwards in a 90 degree angle, the back revealing an array of digitized photos and writing. The woman placed the letter next to a small machine and it immediately scanned the letter she'd just received. Once uploaded, she used her fingers on the holographic screen to slide the letter towards the rest.

Then, from first to current, she read them all out loud.

April 8, 2258​


Your time with the city must have damaged you so. Now you have to wait for Kyra's murder to be solved by the very people you hate. Ironic, isn't it?

- U

April 22, 2258​


Things are going to get much, much worse soon. Maybe you should think about extended your business to personal security. The police surely won't be protecting you after all.

- U

August 16, 2258​

I'm sure you thought it was over. Unfortunately, it isn't. By now, you're probably wanting answers, and I assure you I have them. Figure this puzzle out and you'll know what the next step is.

At 11:30 in the evening on August 16th, Lincoln went for a walk down a street with the same name has him. He passed 3 apartments and noticed many people who were similar to him but not him at all. He says to himself, “In time we will all be in the same place and everything will be clear.”

The last letter left a bitter taste in her mouth. She tilted her head thoughtfully as she sat back in her computer chair, eyes squinting. Her finger was tapping on the arm rest with mild impatience as her curiosity began to overwhelm her. Different thoughts filled her head to the point where she was forced to get up and attempt to mentally organize them all. It didn't make any sense to her.

The first two letters seemed taunting, as if the writer were the killer themselves. This one, however... it was as though they wanted to help her figure out who the killer was. What purpose would the first letters have had then? Was it to grab her attention?

"Of course," Evelyn said with an exasperated laugh. There was no way anyone with common sense would listen to the letters if it didn't seem like writer knew who the receiver was. Evelyn especially would've have believed anything if they hadn't touched some personal topics. She scoffed as she sat back down, her thoughts beginning to clear as she entered a more focused mindset.

She read the puzzle part of the letter once more before closing her eyes and trying to find any connection.

11:30 PM on August 16th... that's a time and a date. Today's date. Lincoln walking down a street with the same name as him. Lincoln Street? Lincoln Boulevard? Lincoln Avenue? Was that a street in Avalon City?

Evelyn rolled herself to her small computer set up, fingers rapidly tapping away at the digital keyboard. Her first search was Lincoln Avenue, which was a shopping district in Sunnyside. Is it supposed to be a location then? Evelyn thought as she bit her lower lip, before erasing her current search. No, the letter mentioned apartments... Returning to her search, Lincoln Boulevard also pulled up a blank. It was somewhere in West Gate and only houses for the wealthy and elite were located there. That means Lincoln Street was the only and last option.

Her questions were answered when she found Lincoln Street was located on the border of Midtown and Oldtown. There was three apartment complexes there that were surrounded by a multitude of restaurants and small-time businesses. And that was where Evelyn found herself a bit stuck. She began reading out their addresses. "1126 Lincoln Street... 1128 Lincoln Street... 1130-" Evelyn stopped. "1130?"

Looking back at the letter, Evelyn felt a small smirk form. "That can't be." She laughed. "Time and location?" there was no way it was a coincidence, however. The puzzle, though random, seemed to be planned in every way. Each of the numbers had an importance, so what did "3" represent? The third apartment from the entrance? The third floor?

Evelyn ran all possible scenarios that she could think of in her head as she repeated "11:30 PM on August 16th at 1130 Lincoln Street" over and over again. It had to be the answer. It had to be the place U wanted to meet. There was no other explanation. She didn't know what apartment it'd be exactly, but she had a good guess as to what it could be.

"I guess we'll have to see."

Time: Four forty-five in the afternoon // Location: Club Reverie, Midtown // Interactions: N/A // Mentions: None

“You have terrible timing, kid.”

Club Reverie. Respectable and well-established (albeit quite old), the bar and nightclub can be found within the bustling heart of Midtown, making it accessible to all those in search for a transient state of inebriation. Those who enter would find themselves transported to another world of changing landscapes by a plethora of lights and mechanics of holograms mounted upon its high ceilings. Complementing the walls of holographic scenes, at the very center of Club Reverie is a hovering platform, inviting all who wish to dance the night away.

Unlike other bars throughout the city, Club Reverie maintains the old tradition of drinks being shaken and stirred by hand. While impressive shiny machines and androids have added efficiency and speed to the business, Club Reverie appeals to those who appreciate the classic personal touch of a handmade drink assembled with care. Over the years, the bar has seen many walks of life come and go, and has accumulated many regulars who, to Gemma’s acquisitive delight, are usually the ones leaving the most generous tips.

“Am I hearing you correctly?” Cas trained his eyes dubiously upon Gemma when she had made her request for that particular night. Cassius Blue was the owner of Club Reverie: a tall cyborg with a long droopy face that reminded her of a greyhound and slicked back hair that was currently a shade of brilliant pink that hurt her eyes if she stared at it too long. “Tonight’s the eve of Founder’s Day,” he stated. As if Gemma needed a reminder. At the moment, the nightclub was abuzz with activity as the staff scuttered left and right in preparations for the upcoming highly-anticipated festive evenings ahead of them.

From behind the bar counter, Gemma paused from her own task to meet her boss’ gaze and offered assuredly, “I will be on double-shift tomorrow.” Cas’ square shoulders lifted in a half shrug. His suits were expensively tailored and often in peculiar old-timey patterns, such as the deep burgundy damask he had chosen that very afternoon. “It’s your loss,” he replied, his eyes upwards scanning about the room. No doubt his thoughts were already elsewhere, brainstorming new inspiration for his constantly metamorphic club. “You have terrible timing, kid.”

Gemma grimaced, knowing full well that she was regretfully missing out on a good flow of cash guaranteed on the night before Founder’s Day. She had never once asked for time-off - or take an exception to leave early - and she was sorely tempted to retract her request. “Terrible luck, more like it,” she muttered as her boss had turned his back to her and moved on to other matters of business. U’s third and most recent letter was folded deep in her pocket, crinkling each time she moved. Lincoln Street. It was the most obvious clue she could gather and it was a place for her to start at least. Whether or not she was walking directly into her own murder scene, Gemma’s curiosity prevailed once again. The possibility of gaining more insight into Theo’s death was too appealing and Gemma was sure as hell not stupid enough to ignore it.

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Kawashima Lightning

Rising Kpop Star
Brianna Shimamoto
Interactions: Open | Mentions: Not Applicable | August 16, 2258

Location: Home (Uptown)

Around Noon, Brianna had fallen asleep and ended up taking a three-hour nap. As soon as she woke up, she felt the sudden urge to go use the restroom. If there was anything she hated about being pregnant, it was the frequent bathroom trips. As she was in the final stages, it certainly felt like every thirty minutes minimum and every hour maximum. Otherwise, she could put up with everything else. After washing her hands, she began wondering about the letter she had received earlier in the day. Quietly, she waddled back down the stairs to go back into her office, where she started taking a look at the letter to examine it further.

At 11:30 in the evening on August 23rd, Lincoln went for a walk down a street with the same name as him. He passed 3 apartments and noticed many people who were similar to him but not him at all. He says to himself, “In time we will all be in the same place and everything will be clear.”

The only thing she was able to make out after that nap was going to Lincoln Street. Same street as him...Well it certainly didn't say same 'boulevard', 'avenue', 'circle', 'drive'. "I hate riddles..." She sighed before looking down at her grown belly. "Ready for a night on the town, sweathearts? Are you gonna behave for mommy?" she asked, placing her hand on her non-existent hip, the other on the belly.

The babies responded by kicking. "I'll take that as a yes...I hope..." She sighed before waddling out of the office and back up the stairs to grab a change of clothes. Taking off her robe and her sleep dress, she threw the onto her bed before picking out a formal dress and a floral kimono. She then went to do her make up after washing her face and redoing her hair, straightening it back out. Finally, she grabbed her purse and exited the home, locking it down with an app on her holophone. As she got into her car, she set it to Auto-Pilot so that she could relax, not really up for driving herself. The last thing she saw while driving away was the gate to her home closing.

New Location: Lincoln Street (??)

As she got out onto the road, she just enjoyed the view...and ride. Self-driving vehicles were a life-saver to her. Not to mention it was a little safer due to her pregnancy. Right now she should be resting, not investigating her late husband's murder. But the young woman just wanted answers. Why would someone take a Father from his unborn child? That wasn't fair to the child. No, not at all. Brianna frowned as such thoughts began to cloud her mind. Once she had gotten to a stoplight, she realized that she had not set a destination. Giggling a little, she reached over to the touch screen in the center console and entered 'Lincoln Street' into the GPS. Still, the car ride was peaceful and the city was vibrant. Too bad there was too much to the dark side of it. Maybe moving to Avalon was a bad idea after-all. They hadn't been there very long and her husband gets killed. Not that either of them expected that. Still, being a single mom in such a dangerous place didn't settle much for Brianna. Perhaps it was time to go back to the old her; the old, thrill-seeking Brianna Shimamoto. Driving Cars at fast speeds...for what? Money?

No! She didn't want to think about that. Feeling conflicted, Brianna sighed as she stroked her belly with a frown. Just then, her car arrived on Lincoln Street and it pulled into a parking spot. Parallel parking was so much easier now then it was centuries ago. After the car finished parking, she opened the door and slowly got out. She ended up having to hold onto the car for balance, as falling in this stage of pregnancy could be very harmful to the baby, something that Brianna was deathly afraid of. Clutching her purse close, she pressed something on her holophone to lock the car and turn it off before waddling down the street, unsure of where to go.

'Three Apartments. Many people similar to him, but not him at all. 11:30...'

"Need a ride, babe?" She looked up to see someone driving up next to her. "No thanks, I'm already pregnant."

The car then drove off as she continued to waddle down the side-walk. "11:30...11:30..." She pondered. "What am I gonna do in the meantime?"

>>>>>DAY 1 COMPLETE<<<<<
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Just a city boy
Carlos Price
Location: Old Town to The Hills to Midtown | Time: 12:00 PM to 05:00 PM | Interactions: Open | Mentions: None
The day had been frustratingly uneventful for Carlos, who'd spent some time driving around the city and visiting some places of interest. His goal had been to go about a "regular" day and make it seem as though he wasn't fazed by the letter. More importantly, ever since finding that letter in Blackbird's talon, Carlos had begun to wonder whether he was being followed by this U or not. Carlos thought that if he could head out and go about his day, he might be able to catch someone familiar everywhere he went, which is why he'd set Blackbird to recon mode to hover way above his car. Everywhere he went, Carlos checked the feed: every turn he took, every shop he entered, every place he stopped. Over and over again, Carlos' eyes scanned the video feed to find anything, be it the same vehicle or figures dressed in the same attire; over and over again, Carlos was disappointed to find nothing that he was looking for. He'd even set his car to autopilot after a little over two hours so he could watch the feed more intently and study every square foot of road around him. Nothing. Carlos found absolutely nothing, and he was becoming visibly frustrated. By 03:00 PM, as Carlos was walking out of a restaurant, he'd decided that he would go find an incoming shipment to see if that drew any attention. After years of work, Carlos had worked past the point where he needed to inspect shipments personally before they arrived at his headquarters, but he thought that changing his tactic for the day might draw some attention.

Carlos set his destination for the heart of The Hills, toward the very edge of Avalon City's Mire. There was a fresh shipment of arms and spleens for transplant procedures which still needed to be properly programmed and cleaned before being sent off to Old Town. While he wasn't too keen on having to inspect the goods himself, mainly due to his implicit trust in his men, Carlos needed something odd to do. As he pulled up to the warehouse, Carlos looked intently at the feed and, finding nothing of interest, he stepped out of the car. Carlos walked up to the large metal door, where two men were stationed, seemingly unarmed, though Carlos knew better than to believe that. The second he stepped within 20 feet of them, they pulled back their trenchcoats to reveal high-caliber laser pistols holstered on their left side. One of them walked up to Carlos, seemingly oblivious as to who he was dealing with. "Hey, what's your business here?" Carlos didn't say anything and only held up his watch for the man to see. The man's eyes widened as he looked between the watch, Carlos, and the mechanical bird that hovered nearby behind him. "Apologies, Mr. Price, the shipment is right in there. We've got men guarding it, but it wasn't due for pickup until tonight." Carlos simply pushed the door open and, without looking at the men, replied dryly. "I'm only here to inspect the goods. Keep guard, I'll be out in a short while." With that, Carlos walked in to find a large room with 30 or so human-sized metal boxes stacked in the middle. He pulled up his feed from his watch, saw nothing, and shut it off. It took no more than 25 minutes for Carlos to go through each box and make sure that every component was in working order and that his men had received the number of components agreed upon.

After a few light taps, Carlos was able to pull up the entire order list for that day's shipment and read through the numbers and costs. Once that was done, Carlos walked out of the warehouse and back toward his car. In the car, Carlos sighed, incredibly frustrated that his little detour hadn't yielded the results he'd hoped. He spent a few minuted looking over the feed, finding nothing. Just when Carlos was about to take off, a strange hooded figure began walking hurriedly toward the warehouse, which he caught on the edge of the feed. Raising an eyebrow, Carlos stepped out of the vehicle and called to Blackbird, keeping his eyes on the figure. "Engage attack mode," he said, causing Blackbird's beak to open wide and a small cannon to peer out from its throat, the bird's eyes turning red. Carlos raised an arm and made a signal which prompted the bird to fly down and land on his left shoulder, cannon still poking out through his open beak. With a couple of taps, the number pad appeared out of the watch and, after Carlos input a particular code, a small red beam shot out from the wide of the watch. He aimed it above the hooded figure and waited to see what their intention was. Suddenly, the figure pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the guards outside the warehouse. Carlos quickly aimed the beam down onto the man's shoulder and loudly commanded his bird to act. "Fire," he said, prompting the bird to look down toward the man and a laser beam to fire out of the cannon in its mouth. The beam hit exactly where Carlos' own light beam aimed, causing the man's shoulder to burn away. The figure screamed as his arm fell off, the pistol clattering on the ground in front of him, causing the guards to look toward Carlos wide-eyed. "Leave him, I have some questions," Carlos called out as he walked toward the hooded man, who was desperately clutching at his shoulder where his arm used to be.

It didn't take long for the man to try to lunge at Carlos, causing Blackbird to fly off his shoulder for a moment, his eyes still glowing red. Carlos simply ducked to the side and caught the man's remaining arm, sweeping him and causing him to land on his back. Before the man could react, Carlos caught the man's arm and pressed his elbow against his knee as he pulled, breaking it easily. Just to be sure, Carlos leaned down and dropped a series of three punches onto the man's stomach and chest. Bloodied and beaten, the man gasped for air as Carlos stood over him, Blackbird landing on his shoulder once more. "Why are you here?" When the man didn't immediately respond, Carlos kicked him in the ribs and asked again, causing the man to finally croak something out. "G-good... product... boss... wants," Carlos' eyes narrowed at this and he decided he'd ask one more question before letting the man "go." "What's happening at Lincoln Street tonight and who is U?" The man simply looked shocked at this and coughed a few times, showing no signs of knowing the answer. Carlos pulled out Justicar and aimed it down at him. "I'm not gonna ask again." "I-I don't... know, okay? I'm just trying to... do my job." He spoke in between fits of coughing and groaning. "I believe you," he stated calmly as he pulled the trigger and almost blew the man's head to bits, "but you did try to steal my merchandise." With that, Carlos gently wiped his shoe against the dead man's clothing before walking back toward his car. "Search him and find out who his boss it," he told the guards before stepping into the vehicle. "Disengage. Recon mode," he said as he held the car door open, allowing his bird to fly out and hover above him as the cannon vanished and its eyes went black.

Carlos pulled up the feed once more and sighed angrily, clearly upset that his only source of excitement that day hadn't led back to what he wanted. He commanded the car to drive off to Midtown, particularly Lincoln Street. Carlos wasn't sure what he could expect to find there, but he decided he'd spent enough time trying to draw out someone who wouldn't show themselves so he'd go straight to them. Once he pulled into Lincoln Street, Carlos pulled up Blackbird's interface on his watch. "Scan designated area," he said as he marked the entire street on the digital map that appeared before him. The bird flapped away, looking through every nook and cranny of Lincoln Street, finding nothing of interest. Whoever U was, they might not show themselves until 11:30 PM, which gave Carlos time to wait and make a plan.



Short stuff
Sonia Caine
Location: Home, Midtown | Time: 3:30 PM to 5:00 PM | Interactions: Open | Mentions: X

It turns out trying to go on a casual stroll on founders eve was no easy task, Sonia gave up on it almost immediately and found herself right back where she’d started at her workshops door. At least she wasn’t angry anymore. Unlocking the worn door and slipping inside, turning to lock everything with just slight dramatic measures, Sonia grunted satisfied as she finished and turned to go off to do her own thing. Yet that never happened. Her eyes had trailed and found the unmistakable white of an envelope, slightly crumpled from where her boot had crushed it, marked with a curious 7 boldly imprinted on the front. A shudder of apprehension twinged in her with the smallest of excitement intertwining with it. Could this be what she thought it was? Another letter from U? Perhaps she was barking mad for actually being somewhat elated that this wasn’t all truly over, there was still something to crack on with and she wasn’t just about to let it go.

Ripping the envelope open, Sonia’s eyes scoured the letter, rereading it a few times just to make sure she hadn’t overlooked anything.

At 11:30 in the evening on August 23rd, Lincoln went for a walk down a street with the same name as him. He passed 3 apartments and noticed many people who were similar to him but not him at all. He says to himself, “In time we will all be in the same place and everything will be clear.”

Of course it was a riddle. At least with the other letters it’d been cryptic remarks and comments, this was just purely left up to her to figure out. Great.

Slinking towards her unorganised desk that definitely needed a good scrub, Sonia slumped into her seat and placed her shades onto the desk, spinning idly on the chair as she pondered the letters message with it still held in her hand. Just from her knowledge of the Midtown streets and her past days of skulking them, the vague memory of Lincoln Street slipped into her head, she was sure she’d been there at least once, albeit it was awhile ago it was better than nothing. Shifting upwards in her seat, Sonia perked up as she set the letter aside and began searching up Lincoln Street just to be sure and to confirm its whereabouts. A frown darkened onto her face as she wondered that if she was right about the street, it seemed wrong to just assume it so easily, there was always the chance this was all a set up and whatever would be awaiting her wouldn't be pretty. Even when confirmed the location of Lincoln Street, Sonia was left to contemplate the timing, date and what the three apartments could mean. Was it that straight forward, go at 11:30 PM and just expect to find some shocking revelation? For something that was meant to be giving Sonia answers, it was only leaving her with more questions.

"Everything will be clear... such bullshit." She sneered softly, now skim reading the letter that was pinched between her metal hand and beginning to crumple under her grip, her lip jutting upwards as she dropped it back to its old spot and groaned. Maybe she was just over thinking this, but it was all quite peculiar. Why had the other letters been mocking and seemingly proud of holding knowledge of the murder above her head and this one appeared to be offering a salvation to all her queries and questions. It didn't settle well in her stomach, leaving her uneasy and apprehensive for what could come out of whatever this happened to be. Backing out wasn't an option, she'd been chasing a hopeless investigation for too many weeks and gotten nothing, she had to do this. Tapping the arm of her worn chair, Sonia supposed that her friend Anna had been right. Suppose she was to die like Claude, drawn out by this letter like a besotted sailor hearing a sirens intoxicating song, would it truly mean anything in the grand scheme of things?

Stashing the letter in her pocket, Sonia redid her ponytail, brushing stray smaller curls behind her ears as she prepared to leave. She'd spent awhile scrutinising everything before, deciding she should at least scout out Lincoln Street and not just rely on a faded memory tainted with an impression of youthful ignorance. Slipping back out onto the streets with her sunglasses prepped and sleek black gloves worn, Sonia was ready to see what the night had to offer her as she got into her rundown car and drove with a lone destination in her mind.



ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
Good Evening Avalon City - August 16, 2258 (NIGHT 1)

The seven people of interest have received their third letter and all have figured out the meeting location and time asked by U.

The apartment is called "Starship Apartments" and it is a raggedy place that is fifteen stories tall (which is short compared to other complexes). Each floor has ten apartments--the numbers being from 100-110 on the first floor, 200-210 on the second floor, and so on. Each apartment is also accompanied by a digital keypad and its respective passcode. The apartment of interest is "303".

Please enter your PIN.





↓L of 76 degrees F. ↑H of 90 degrees F. Showers are to be expected between 6-8 AM and 2-5 PM.

Current Events:
- The Stay Safe bill went into action on August 14, 2258.
- The streets are getting packed as Avalon City prepares for Founder's Day.

- Arrive to the apartment complex and meet everyone.​


ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
Evelyn HashurLocation: Starship Apartments [Midtown]
Time: 11:20 PM
Interactions: Open

The streets were much livelier than earlier in the day. People were dressed in the symbolic red, white, and blue as everyone excitedly watched the Founder's Day countdown. It took much maneuvering for Evelyn to get passed it all. For the most part, she fared well in avoiding any unnecessary accidents and confrontations. The encounter at her favorite restaurant and the less than welcomed letter had set her in a pissy mood, so who would have known the chaos that would've followed in the event someone dashed into her path. She might've ended up on the police radar and everyone knows how annoying a little bot following you around and buzzing constantly was. A person couldn't even scratch the things either because it'd lead to a misdemeanor.

The roar of her bike's engine came to a stop as she pulled up to a raggedy apartment. It was fifteen story tall and was the color of putrid bile. The ugly pain was peeling off all over the place and it was clear no renovations had been done any time recently. Evelyn glanced at all the other apartments in the area and Starship Apartments was truly a pitiful sight. While the other's were made of top of the line material that glistened under the city lights, Starship looked like it erupted from the gutters. It was amazing that the place hadn't been torn down yet.

After finding a decent parking spot away from wandering eyes, Evelyn cautiously made her way towards the front door. When she arrived, the glass pair slid apart with a grimacing whoosh. As soon as she entered, the most awful smell flooded her nostrils. It was a combination of rotten garbage and what literally smelled like death. The Arabian woman's face contorted as she held a hand to her face, attempting to block out the scent. Of course, it was to no avail.

Deciding the archaic stairs were likely a better option than the elevator, it wasn't long before the woman reached the third floor. Examining the place as she sauntered through the hallway, she noticed the third floor was much, much better. There wasn't a putrid scent and the walls seemed well kept although old-fashioned. She could feel herself nod almost approvingly before coming to a halt in front of apartment 303. She'd noticed the padlock but attempted to open the door anyways.

Evelyn frowned.
Time: Eleven twenty-five in the evening // Location: Starship Apartments, Midtown // Interactions: @Koala // Mentions: None

'Perhaps Theo had been right all along: her curiosity would surely be the end of her.'

Everything about the unsightly building before her added to the growing sense of foreboding that settled at the bottom of her stomach. The letter was clenched in hand, although it wasn’t that she hadn’t memorized its contents by now; instead, it served as a reminder as to why she was going against her natural survival instincts in entering the apartment building rather than running far away from it.

Gemma rested her hoverboard underneath her arm - a dingy little thing that had been scrapped up from a junk pile, miraculously fixed, and gifted by Theo. She drew in a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts that first came to mind when she laid her eyes upon the pitiful state of the establishment. The sight of it did, however, give her a new perspective of her own shabby apartment. I am going to be murdered here, she thought matter-of-factly. A Mire mouse nobody who will not likely be missed by anyone.

Perhaps Theo had been right all along: her curiosity would surely be the end of her. Up until now, Gemma hadn’t bothered speculating what she was up against. She only had the plain black clothes on her body, her hoverboard, a pocket knife at her belt and a needle-like accessory that held her hair up in place which sometimes functioned as a weapon under desperate situations. Between the two of them, Theo had undeniably been the better fighter. It was her own persistent curiosity that had pushed Gemma this far, standing under the streetlights of Lincoln street.

It took great effort not to gag at the initial stench of the building, even as she found herself upon the third floor. Not expecting a single soul anywhere near interested in this wasted away establishment - or anyone in their right mind to even step inside, but who was she to judge - Gemma stopped in her tracks as she spotted another figure down the hall. Once again, her instincts told her to run. Her thoughts, however, swiftly reached towards two conclusions: this stranger was either a random someone who was searching for answers too, or a certain someone with all the answers.

“Excuse me,” Gemma spoke up, taking on a volume a little louder than her usual tone as an attempt to make up for her rather underwhelming appearance and size. She held up the envelope from U with large bold #6 displayed clearly at the front. “Are you the genius behind this letter?”

Kawashima Lightning

Rising Kpop Star
Brianna Shimamoto
Interactions: @sleepygingko (Direct), @Koala (Indirect) | Mentions: Not Applicable | August 16, 2258

Location: Starship Apartments, Midtown

The last five hours were rather restless, somber, perhaps a little boring. While pondering on the only clue to find U, Brianna went to relax at a nearby diner. On the walk there, her stomach growled, causing a few passers by to stare at her. The thought of it made her fluster and she simply just got into the diner. After eating a small, but filling dinner and spending time there for a few hours, mainly just on her holophone's social media apps and relaxing as it was hard for her to stand for long periods of time now. When eleven o'clock hit, she paid for her meal, went to use the restroom and quietly left. 'Lincoln Street...11:30...' Not only was that a time, but there had to be more. When she had made it back to Lincoln Street, she went to check her car. There were no outward signs of tampering or vandalism. She turned to see someone entering an apartment. Not long after, another person came by and entered. Curious, she decided to go and investigate. Barely getting the door before it could shut, she quietly went inside. Clutching her purse close, she gently rubbed her belly. Because an elevator was too noisy, Bri went ahead and decided to take the stairs. Sadly, she did also have to take it slow so that she wouldn't trip and fall, something that could easily prove fatal for the babies, which she was deathly afraid of. "Its okay, Mommy's only taking the stairs because she has to keep quiet." She whispered, hoping that her stomach would not growl.

She stopped at the third floor when she heard another voice. Female. Peaking out, she saw one woman approach another. Looking down at her belly, she frowned before approaching them. "Pardon me, but did you say something about a letter?" She asked, pulling an envelope out of her purse.
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Junior Member
__= Elijah Hastings = Location: Starship Apartments, Midtown = Mentions: None = Interacting with: =_Gemma @sleepygingko , Evelyn @Koala, Briana @Kawashima Lightning =__

Throughout the day, Elijah didn't expect anything that bad to happen to him. It was Founder's Eve, so everyone should be in a lighter mood than usual, right? However, he hadn't learned to stop assuming that fate would instantly go well for him just because of a lucky streak. The past two attempts he made was rather unsuccessful, but he surprisingly didn't have much harm against him. But, anything could happen at any moment, no matter how slim the chance was. The naivete risks he took every time didn't always lead him to failure, but definitely acted as a catalyst for those unfortunate moments to spawn. The moment he took that convenience store worker's remark literally and headed to the bar around the corner, that catalyst started to work its magic.

The young adult briskly went around the building, past flashing lights and worn walls. No word was uttered during the momentous trip as he preferred to save his speaking energy for when it actually mattered to him. Soon, he was met with a floating, argon-powered sign pointing to a slightly rusted entrance on the side of a short alleyways. "ENTER IF YOU DARE," It stated in blinking, bold letters, as if it knew what the boy was going to get into and served as a warning towards him. Of course, Eli wouldn't heed that warning in search of the truth. His bravery was amendable, but what resulted from his bravery wasn't. It was probably also too daring to drag the bartender through the same questions he asked the cashier a while back. That obviously led to a cold shoulder to shoo the nineteen-year-old away from where he shouldn't be lurking. Though nobody expected a very impatient drunkard taking the initiative to slam Mr. Skytrop's head into the counter just so he could order another beer. Everything seemed to fade out since then.

The distant patter of raindrops and a dull sting to his left eye were the first things he could sense as soon as he recovered somewhat. Next was the feeling of tissue paper stuffed up his nose. With a tilt of the head upwards, the boy who just woke up from getting knocked out was met with a very cloudy sky above. Seems like fate had duped him after all. Say, what time was it now?...Did it even matter this early on? One thing was for certain- he should really think first before deciding to follow a stranger's words.

8:00 PM - 10:00 PM
Being sensible for once, Elijah decided that enough was enough after that one skirmish. It already took a while to regain his bearings. He kept a mental note in his mind to not visit that accursed alleyway anytime in the future, just like all the other places he fell victim at. The main focus now was that letter and the place it specified rather vaguely to meet. Since there was a number on the back, maybe there were others in tow for this common purpose. What if it were just yet another deathtrap and he would be rid of for good? At this point, he would have expected that since he broke his brief streak of safety today. His pattern of investigating the Mire every two weeks was easy to track. Hell, maybe a couple of eyes were trailing his every move right now, waiting to strike at the right time. 11:30 in the evening. Yet, it was his best chance to get some answers as well, straight from the horse's mouth. As long as he lives to continue the tale. With the details of the letter in mind, he heads off towards the apartments of Lincoln Street through a digital map on his screen.

11:00 - 11:35 PM
The Starship Apartments were not luxury in the slightest. The pungent odor reminiscent of mold permeated his nose as if it were trying to make it bleed again. But then again, Elijah didn't really look as rich as he did seven hours ago. His vest was taken off and slung over as it had traces of blood on it. No need to make himself more suspicious than he already was. His hair was messy and the bruises on his eye-socket still lingered. Blood was haphazardly wiped off, resulting in a faint red streak trailing across his cheek. He had already seen a trail of women enter the complex and decided to tail behind, thinking that they could know what the message possibly meant. "Ah- Excuse me! Excuse-" His "excuses" were drowned out by the clacking of shoes on the stairs they took. How odd, wouldn't there be an elevator here by now? That was going to be a thought for later. Elijah was the fourth person to arrive at the meeting destination at 11:35 PM, five minutes over the mark. He hoped he hadn't missed anything, but it seemed that people were just arriving. Having confirmed he was supposed to be here from what he heard, the boy spoke up to Briana's question with a bit of a nervous voice, adding his own to hers.

"I-I think we all had letters. That's why we came here..Hey, do your letters have numbers on the front as well? Mine was a six."



Just a city boy
Carlos Price
Location: Lincoln Street | Time: 11:30 PM | Interactions: @Koala @sleepygingko @jakthemenace @Kawashima Lightning | Mentions: None
It was a boring few hours for Carlos while the clock wound down toward 11:00 PM. All he could really do was sit there and keep an eye on the feed from Blackbird. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to find anything, for the most part, so he was forced to leave his vehicle to have some dinner before his watch began to blink. When he looked down to inspect the small device on his wrist, Carlos saw a light flash and a holographic image appear before him. This image was from Blackbird's feed, which was intriguing and made Carlos immediately drop everything he was doing. What he saw on the monitor brought a smile to his face. There was a bike that approached the vicinity and stopped far from the gathering crowds. On it, there was a woman who made her way through Lincoln Street and into one of the buildings. In fact, the building the woman walked into was exactly the one that the note seemed to be hinting toward. Carlos' lips curled into a smile as he watched the feed, the woman disappearing behind the building's doors. He continued to sit there while eating, looking at the feed more intently now as the time approached. Three more figures stepped between the crowds and made their way into the building, at which point Carlos noticed that it was almost time.

With that, he transferred the funds owed for his meal and walked out. The night air was considerably more chilly than the air when he'd walked into the restaurant, but Carlos didn't mind; all he could think about was the fact that people had reached the building of interest and he needed to get there immediately. As Carlos stepped toward the doors, he called Blackbird back to him. With the mechanical bird on his shoulder, Carlos walked through the doors and moved into the building. The stench was simply putrid, which made Carlos' nose wrinkle a little. As he walked through, Carlos looked around and inspected every square foot he could. Nothing stuck out to him and he couldn't seem to find anything that indicated the presence of others. Carlos found the stairs easily enough and made his way up. It wasn't until he reached the third floor that he began to hear the sounds of other people talking to each other. Instinctively, Carlos pulled out his pistol and held it in his right hand while Blackbird stood on his shoulder. He then popped out, pointing the gun at the people he'd heard. From what he could discern, it looked like two young women, one pregnant woman, and a kid.

Looking over the people in front of him, Carlos quickly realized that they weren't dangerous; at least most of them weren't. He put the pistol down and raised both of his hands as a sign of peace as he walked toward them. "Sorry about that, just a little on edge." Blackbird cocked its head and looked straight at them while Carlos continued to approach. "You people also got a letter like this one, didn't you?" Carlos reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter in its envelope to show it to them. Still feeling like something was wrong, Carlos whispered something to Blackbird, keeping his voice too low for the others to hear. "Ready." With that command, the bird's eyes turned bright red but its demeanor seemed to remain very much the same. Blackbird still stood on Carlos' shoulder, but it was ready to open its beak and fire if anything went wrong. With Blackbird ready, Carlos continued walking toward the group, still holding out the letter. "I'm guessing this means something," he said as he pointed to the number on the envelope.


Short stuff
Sonia Caine
Location: Lincoln Street | Time: 11:30 PM | Interactions:
@Koala @sleepygingko @jakthemenace @Kawashima Lightning @Javierzz | Mentions: None

It was better to be early than late, even if early resulted in a few boring hours that left Sonia contemplating her life, this could be worth all her troubles. Halfway through her wait she’d ended up snacking on whatever was lying around in her car, nothing remotely healthy, but she never had a stable diet so it wasn’t unusual. Just when she decided to reread the letter, watch the street for what felt like the 100th time, she spied that a couple of people were slipping through the crowds and into the same building. Now that wouldn’t seem suspicious usually but some of those people did not look like they belonged in this district, certainly putting Sonia and her lack of effort in dressing nicely to shame. Sonia sat for a moment as she second guessed her decisions, eyebrows furrowing in thought before she brushed off wrappers she’d eaten from and got out of her trash of a car.

With another man entering before her, Sonia skulked quietly not too far behind, wanting to scope something out to decide whether she should bail or not. Walking through the doors was worse than expected, not because of a horrible scene assaulting her eyes but because of the revolting smell that instantly fixed an expression of disgust onto Sonia’s face. With her lip jutted upwards in disdain for the odour, Sonia made her way to the stairwell, going upwards until she noticed that the man she’d seen last entering had stopped at the third floor and was currently aiming a pistol at whoever else was in the area. She’d almost spun on the balls of her feet and walked away, not wanting to get involved in certain death with the man who thought whipping out a gun was a good first impression. Then he put it away and apologised to Sonia’s surprise, leaving her to follow and peek her head out at the people ahead of her, popping fully out when she heard the mention of a letter.

“Everyone here has a letter? So much for me being special.” Sonia slunk out towards the group with her letter grasped in hand, casting her shaded gaze onto the others as she waited to see what would happen.
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ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
Evelyn HashurLocation: Starship Apartments [Midtown]
Time: 11:30 PM
Interactions: Gemma @sleepygingko, Brianna @Kawashima Lightning, Elijah @jakthemenace, Carlos @Javierzz, Sonia @Feywild, Kendall

Evelyn was in the middle lighting a cigarette when she heard steps coming from down the hall. With her back against the wall and one leg propped back, she nonchalantly turned her head to see who was making their way over. A part of her was hoping the female was of no concern, but she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when she noticed the thin slip of paper between the raven-haired woman's fingers. Lifting the envelope was enough to earn the investigator's attention.

“Are you the genius behind this letter?” The woman asked.

A puff of smoke escaped the investigator's lips before she pushed herself off the wall. She leaned on one leg, arms crossed against her chest with her cigarette tucked between two fingers. "No," she began before taking another puff, "and I assume you aren't either."

She parted her red lips to speak once more, but another voice interrupted her. Again it was a female, but a pregnant one. Evelyn made no attempt to hide her stare as she looked at the woman's stomach, which looked like it could burst any moment. All she could really do was offer a nod as more and more people arrived. After the pregnant woman was a younger male who seemed to weak and ignorant to be hanging around the Mire. His meekness was laughable, but she felt pity for him to be the owner of a letter. Next was interesting.

Evelyn could hear the rustling that came with wielding a weapon. In a few swift moves, she shoved the young man aside and stepped in front of him, grabbing for her own pistol that rested on her belt. She had it aimed at the man that had stepped in the hall, eyes serious as her lips were firmly wrapped around her cigarette. It wasn't until the older man laid down his firearm before she did so herself, letting out a quiet "tsk."

"Sorry, Kid." Evelyn said to the male she had pushed earlier as she placed her gun back into its holster.

“Everyone here has a letter? So much for me being special.” A woman chimed in.

Evelyn turned and noticed another woman emerge from the shadows. Unsurprisingly, she had a letter.

"The boy brought up our letters having numbers earlier," Evelyn began as she held up her copy. "Mine says 9." As she spoke, she moved a step away from the crowd with caution, keeping her back to the wall but ensuring she could see an exit. They may all received letters, but it was too soon to say whether they were all connected and if someone was a threat or not.

"5 for me."

From down the hallway, another individual could be seen making his way down. His black hair was disheveled and messy, and it looked like there was blood crusting along his hairline.

"And you are?" Evelyn questioned, eyebrow raised and hand resting along her belt.

"Kendall." The man answered without a moment of hesitance or cautiousness in his voice. "Kendall Wu. Yourself?"

"None of your concern." She replied bluntly, turning her head away and returning to the cigarette that still burned between her fingers. Too open to be someone suspicious... or it could be the opposite. Thought the woman.
Time: Around eleven thirty in the evening // Location: Starship Apartments, Midtown // Interactions: @Koala @jakthemenace @Kawashima Lightning @Javierzz @Feywild & Kendall // Mentions: None

I’d be flattered if I wasn’t already thoroughly creeped out.”

The motley assortment of strangers gathered along the distastefully decorated hallway of the apartment building was almost hilarious. However, the entire situation was far from a laughing matter, especially when the atmosphere around them had taken a sharp turn upon the sight of two guns pointed between the first woman Gemma had spoken to and the man with the robotic bird perched upon his shoulder. Even when their guns were lowered and the momentary threat had passed, her heart still pounded rather quickly against her chest. Besides her own safety, for a quick minute, there was a genuine concern for the pregnant woman’s safety as well. Being without a gun or any substantial defense weapon aside from her pathetic pocket knife, Gemma disliked how quickly the situation had left her feeling vulnerable and out of place.

What sick joke did I just get myself into...

With a deep calming breath, Gemma regarded each person, noting details that may give her some clues to who they were. By a quick glance of outward appearances, she was willing to wager that some of them were certainly not the Midtown local sort. Her dark eyes lingered warily upon the man with the gun; the sight of his bird sent a little shock of recognition resulting in her entire body stiffening. Gemma had spent fruitless weeks digging around and furtively questioning drunken bar goers, only to attain scant details and stories of the very man who now stood in current company. The man whom she had hoped may have answers regarding Theo’s death, but his presence that evening insinuated that he - like everyone else - was most likely searching for answers as well.

“I also have a six,” Gemma said as she held up her envelope again, managing to direct her attention briefly towards the young man who looked rather beaten. His dried streak of blood across his cheek and bruised eye only added to the overflowing questions running through her head.

Her keen gaze flitted across the six unfamiliar faces. “Did you all receive other letters before this one? This secret admirer seems to know me somehow…” Adjusting her grip on her hoverboard beneath her arm, she added dryly, “I’d be flattered if I wasn’t already thoroughly creeped out.” It felt oddly satisfying confiding in these strangers - until now, not once had she told anyone about the letters from U. She had kept the information to herself for months, a dark little secret that burned away at her insides like a corrosive poison. It felt good to get it off her chest and, as twisted as it sounded, it was a bit of a relief to know she wasn’t the only one.

“So we all have numbers. What now?”
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Junior Member
__= Elijah Hastings = Location: Starship Apartments, Midtown = Mentions: None = Interacting with: =_Gemma @sleepygingko , Evelyn @Koala, Briana @Kawashima Lightning, Carlos @Javierzz , Sonia @Feywild, Kendall =__

Elijah shuffled nervously as three more people joined the crew of confusion, two other human men and a cyborg woman. Though he couldn't really detect that she had modifications through what she was wearing, he always had some suspicion of them due to a certain street mishap. But, that was an unimportant yet unfortunate moment just like any others that he encountered during all this time in the Mire. Looks like the others had letters as everyone else, and with numbers on them. They must definitely mean something, and probably something to do with them. With how he had a close relationship with a victim of the killer, maybe they shared the same fate as him? The deep line of thought was suddenly interrupted by the raising of a pistol from the older man, catching him off-guard. The woman near him pushing him out of the way gave him even more of a surprise.

His fight-or-flight response had been triggered profusely by now, but Eli was used to it enough that he instinctively ducked for cover under Evelyn's wing. The boy couldn't help but gaze right into the barrel of his gun, thoughts running frantically in his mind. Did the man come to shoot everybody standing in the hallway up so they couldn't try to investigate more? No, that would be too messy and dumb for a serial killer to execute- Besides, there has to be more than just this with the letters and numbers. If he truly came here like everyone else, then he would have the same and he was just on edge. He truly regretted not bringing a weapon just in case they all gathered into a death trap they themselves would activate. Just then, she pulled out her own pistol from the holster on her belt and aimed it towards the man across from them.

Elijah closed his eyes shut as if the worst were about to happen, but hearing Carlos' apology made him crawl out from behind after what felt like life flashing through his eyes. It was a common feeling by now, but he couldn't help but get chills down his spine every time. Fortunately, his latter hypothesis was right- he was also one of the letter-bearers. Although if not for that fact, he would have labeled him instantly as a threat to everyone else. The kid looked at Evelyn with an exhausted yet grateful expression, saving his words towards figuring out what the hell they were supposed to do next.

“Did you all receive other letters before this one? This secret admirer seems to know me somehow…So, we all have numbers. What now?"

"If everyone got this letter, then everyone should have gotten the past letters. . .and I think those numbers all lead to some sort of order or code we have to figure out." Eli glanced around for anything that needed a number input, and ended up on the keypad to the apartment they were standing next to, "303." He stepped closer to it and let a finger point the device out. ". . .Look! Maybe here?" The boy said with a hint of eagerness.


Just a city boy
Carlos Price
Location: Starship Apartments | Time: 11:35 PM | Interactions: @Koala @sleepyginkgo @jakthemenace @Feywild @Kawashima Lightning | Mentions: None
It was certainly a welcome surprise to see someone else with a weapon; he'd realized that these people were mere "targets" like he was, so he didn't want to be the only one there capable of defending himself. The woman seemed to carry herself with confidence and looked like she'd seen her fair share of danger. Carlos noticed her outfit and wondered whether it was advantageous to her or just a matter of style. Regardless, Carlos' mind was on the letters and the identity of U. As he stepped forward, a voice came from behind him; it was a woman who'd just arrived, asking if everyone else had a letter. "Welcome to the club," Carlos replied after briefly turning to look at her. As he continued to step forward with the letter in his hand, the woman with the gun spoke up about the number she had on hers. "Mine's a five, as you can see." His voice wasn't exactly friendly, but it didn't convey any animosity. Carlos was simply exhausted of this, and he didn't have much energy to spare for formalities and kindness.

A young man peered out from behind the woman, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. It didn't surprise Carlos too much; a kid couldn't be expected to handle life-or-death situations well. Blackbird's bright red eyes moved from person to person, scanning for any immediate threats. Despite seeing how under-equipped most of these people were, Carlos was thankful to have his crow with him to cover his back. While Carlos eyed the young man curiously, another voice rang out from behind him. This time, Carlos didn't turn to look, but he did take note of the fact that he called himself Kendall and also had a letter with a number. Not only that, but he also took note of the woman's cautious nature and aggressive attitude. She has experience with danger. I should keep an eye on her, for the time being. Maybe she could prove to be a valuable asset... Another woman chimed in with something about a "secret admirer" and asked what they should do next. Carlos found her comment somewhat amusing and grinned a little, but before he could respond, the kid spoke up.

He pointed to a number pad next to the door to the apartment and pointed out how the numbers on the letters might be used for the code. Carlos raised an eyebrow and walked closer with Blackbird still trained on the people around him, particularly the armed woman.
"You might be right," he started, looking at the number pad. Carlos narrowed his eyes as he studied it for a moment. "Everyone should get their numbers so we can try to make a combination out of them. But first," Carlos said as he turned to Blackbird. "Scan for traps." With that, Blackbird's eyes shone a blue light that swept through, and around, the number pad; it was scanning for any explosives or traps that would be detected by an immediate X-ray scan. Once that was done and the scan came back negative, Carlos turned to everyone else. "Seems to be safe. Now let's get to making a code out of these numbers."

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