Eclipse Phase (Private)

[TrashRabbit]

Vidar made a cheers motion at him; "Skål" and drank to that.

Heliotrope{Pm to hara}: I'm good. I guess. btw. Told Mach I'm psychic. So: IDK. You should go flirt with some people and then call me in as your girlfriend or some shit when you get buddy buddy. I didn't exactly know how to go about a plan when Mach doesn't know about either of us and he's...you know. The most paranoid boy.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

"Salute," Devin said in response.

hara{pm to heliotrope}: oh boy, that is a whole can of worms. He'll just have to deal though. You were here first.

 

[TrashRabbit]

Heliotrope{Pm to hara}: You know Eppie lost her whole damn family over it and I'm real glad the only time I have to go through this song and dance is when I playing soldier tailor tinker spy. I'm pretty sure RJ would punch him for me if it gets to be a thing- And I don't need him to punch anyone for me. I'm pretty good at that. but it means a lot.

 

[Graystone713]

Sleipnir{PM to Heliotrope}: [I’m trying. But please don’t give me more to worry about, I already look and feel like I’m on some shitty watered-down Kick.]

Then, a pause came before the next reply.

Sleipnir{PM to Heliotrope}: [Okay that’s probably the shittiest thing I could possibly have said! But I don’t know how psychics work, or how you feel about it, or even if I should actually fucking worry! So I dunno if I need to comfort you or ask if it’s cool to have brain powers or wonder if you were gonna explode both our brains in that phone booth or- Nope, shovel’s melted, I need to stop FUCKING DIGGING.]
Sleipnir{PM to Heliotrope}: [I’m definitely apologizing for the shitty stuff I said. I might buy you a drink or something when I start feeling like I won’t just vibrate the fuck outta my morph. And I’m definitely gonna try not to freak out about the whole psychic thing too bad. But, uh... Maybe we can be friends once I stop being terrified of the next hour?]

Nanti: [Was that so bad? Also, did you have to put knife dad down like that?]
You know I’m terrible at people and rambling is genuine!
Nanti: [No, I mean friend zoning him. You... WERE aware he was into you a little, right?]
WHAT? WHOMST’D’VE?

 

[TrashRabbit]

Vidar made another, truly incredible face at the table and took big sip of his drink before he got to crafting a response.

Heliotrope{PM to hara}: No punching required. But jesus. I get it. but. jesus.

Heliotrope{PM to Sleipnir}: This is why I'm telling you now. And not you know in the middle of shit.
Heliotrope{PM to Sleipnir}: Cause, you know we got shit to do
Heliotrope{PM to Sleipnir}: It was always going to come up eventually.
Heliotrope{PM to Sleipnir}: You don't have to be my friend, we just have to find this cache.
Heliotrope{PM to Sleipnir}: So yeah,,,,And it's touch based, if that puts your mind at ease. If its not touch based, that's an exurgent. You shoot that.

 

[CelticSol]

Euphemia “Eppie” Cross​

Eppie follows the group towards the VIP section, almost dancing along to the rhythm of the music as Gao the Very Grumpy Bouncer guides them past the VIP bouncers. As the group settles around a booth, Eppie orders only two shots of tequila and throws both of them back as soon as it’s in her hand, altering her medicines to prevent filtration of the liquor so she feels a warmth in her stomach that steadies her. It helps her feel confident that they’ve got this handled. Though the bass of the music had drowned out the So g of the Star, she can’t ignore it’s melody eating at the back of her mind. A message? A warning?

Something drips onto the back of her hand, where she is leaning against the table. The liquid glows under the blacklights brilliantly, and Eppie realizes the drop is blood as another droplet joins the first.

She reaches a hand up to her face, the skin under her nose wet. Her fingertips come away bloody, and she curses as she reaches over Veronica’s view of the screen to grab a few fabric napkins, using it to clean the red and staunch it’s flow from her nose. It was only a matter of time before she started to see some ill-effects of using her sleights. It’s a small blessing that it was only a nosebleed. To have an episode around so many people…

Eppie shudders. It’s a nightmare of a thought.

She has a small window open on her entopics. She swallows nervously when she realizes the sender.

Heliotrope{Pm the Jukeboxmaiden}: Yo, I know shit got spooky earlier. I know I freaked out on you, but I'm not mad... do you think I'm mad? Life is just one entire confused pickachu meme for me. I'm not doing a great job of "lets do this async thing together" I guess..... But anyway I'm pretty sure, we're going to have to go round two here with the psychic twin bullshit- there's no way I can in close enough to either of them. I only look cute till I open my mouth. So um- lets do this?

Eppie doesn’t respond immediately, nor does she look at Vidar - she gnaws at her lip nervously, tasting drying blood on her tongue. She… Well, she wasn’t sure what to think. The instant Vidar had recoiled from her earlier, she realized in a sudden, acute shock that, perhaps, Eppie was an anomaly even among other asyncs. That picked at a scar that had barely been given a chance to heal, similar words in a different voice telling Eppie what she did was unnatural. Unsettling. Wrong.

Maybe she was being overdramatic. Maybe she put too much stock in believing Vidar would understand her and she would be freed from any judgment from him. But hurt gnaws at her despite that, and she feels stupid for having so much faith that she’d fell in with another that would understand.

Eppie opens up her messages:

jukeboxmaiden (PM to Heliotrope): [i appreciate the thought, vidar, but i really don’t think its a good idea to try doing anything like that again.]
jukeboxmaiden: [don’t worry about it. ill deal with the one on the dance floor. i think devin’s got plans to go after the mark in the booth. im sure he’d appreciate the backup.]

Eppie pushes back from the table, tossing the napkin into a small bin beside the booth, switching to TacNet:

jukeboxmaiden (TacNet): ive got long man jenkins on the dance floor. rj, can you keep an eye out for me? or, watch my six, as the gun people say?

She smiles as steals a sip of RJ’s rum and coke, falling into the flow of the song playing as she dances towards the throngs of the people surrounding her mark.

 

[TrashRabbit]

Vidar got the message as she got up to go and sat there firmly in the knowledge that what ever he should have said or done, it wasn't anything that had actually managed to happen and that he had in fact blown it. A firm boundary and a gentle no; he could still recognize enough social cues to get the memo. He sat there with that fact and took a sip of what ever was in his black velvet.

Heliotrope{Pm to Jukeboxmaiden}: 10-4
Heliotrope: Good hunting.

He'd been dreading it anyway, hadn't he? He didn't feel any relief. That was- wow that was a lot to unpack so he didn't. He decided she just meant what she said. She was just being sensible. She probably did not secretly enjoy violating peoples privacy and destroying their white mater as much as he did, and it was probably for the best that she never found out; She was Eppie after all and probably wouldn't approve. (he wanted her to approve) It was objectively much safer to never play with the kind of fire they were both packing. (He loved playing with fire) He still felt like he'd blown it. (he had)

Thank god I'm already dead.

He tipped back the black velvet and Penny quietly set the medichines to filter it out.

hey :<
[get it together.]
Ugh.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Rushing Jaws​

Azathothwakes {TacNet}: you got it, pink! Ill follow your lead

Rushing Jaws doesn’t quite bound along to keep up, but Eppie inserts herself into the crowd of dancers where Ryong - 'scarecrow jones,' as Eppie code-named him - can be found with surprising speed. He is careful to do his best to keep up, but a distinct kind of impostor syndrome is upon him faster than sound itself. He knows he is an orca out of water - a neo-orca in a world of sapes, no less, and it’s an effort to keep the dam of memories of years’ past sealed tight. He can’t let himself get in his own head - that way lies The Beach.

Instead, he lets the music and the MRDR bear him along. Rushing Jaws isn’t a graceful dancer - at least not in this form - but he knows moving with the music. He does his best to follow Eppie’s lead into the crowd, using his morph’s looks, his many years’ training to move in these two-legged bodies, and his ability to follow the lead of pod to follow Eppie where he fears to tread. With the same mentality that compels him forward into battle, Rushing Jaws gets his Fury ass on the dance floor, keeping Eppie in sight while moving to the music.

Veronica Jhadav​

The last ten minutes Veronica has spent probing the club’s network security have given her a pretty solid impression of what to expect: Lupercalia isn’t slacking as far as its digital defenses go. It isn’t cutting edge by any means, but for a club that is probably trying to keep its overhead as low as possible, their network firewalls are solid. They might not be prepared for a hacker of Veronica’s caliber, but Veronica isn’t about to drop her guard. She at least needs security credentials, and modern network defenses are no place to get lazy.

There is something comforting about the familiarity of cyberspace for Veronica. The utility of bodies is certainly beyond debate, but digital networks have an efficiency to them, a purpose, and a rationality that the ‘real’ world so often lacks. Even this firewall, with its faults, features intelligent and clever designs. Veronica’s worked with - and against - this security system more than once, and even contributed to work intended to shore it up not too long ago. They’ve clearly evolved it since then, but Veronica’s armory of exploits has kept up, and in good time, the lock is picked.

All there is now is to see if their AI is similarly up to standard.

Veronica quickly finds out that it is not slacking, having to deploy several exploits to evade detection; she is a hacker of the highest caliber, but this AI is clearly the master of its own domain. Veronica has to zero in on the flaws in its protocols as fast as she can, outfoxing the AI in order to appear as another accredited security account. It is a thrill like no other, an arena of information, Veronica versus a capable opponent, testing her mettle and her wits, and she grins with the pleasure of slinging code and working her way into vulnerabilities that only someone at her level could spot. It may be for a higher purpose that she came here to hack into Lupercalia’s network, but that doesn’t stop her from savoring the hack.

Veronica almost cheers when she spots a subtle flaw in the monitoring software that she leverages to the fullest possible extent, slipping past the security AI’s detection systems and accessing Lupercalia’s VPN thanks to the touch-table’s access privileges. For a tense few seconds, nothing happens; a few more seconds go by, readouts of code streaming down a window on her entoptics, with no sign that the system is even aware of her presence, Veronica takes a long draw from her Mai Tai, skinlinked palm pressed firmly on the table and a gremlin’s grin on her face.

Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: I’m in.
Mekhajakumaar: Stand by for further info, scouting the network now.

Where she might have had to work for it otherwise, the boon that disappearing from the system’s awareness allows Veronica to surf her way through the nodes of Lupercalia’s VPN with relative ease, mapping it out within seconds. Unsurprisingly, there is the most traffic over drink orders and the ‘front-of-house’ sub-network where credentialed visitors are permitted to interface, along with a section of the network for the DJs to plug in their own programs. Veronica also notes a Facilities sub-network with control over building infrastructure, and - more relevant to her purposes - a Security sub-network with surveillance feeds, an AR tag registry (Veronica taking the liberty of quietly deleting the ‘caution: neo-orca uplift’ flag from Rushing Jaws’ mesh ID), and emergency evacuation protocols, along with the bouncers’ own TacNet hosting. Finally, there is a master control node able to direct the entire operation, tied to the club manager’s mesh ID. All told, it’s a fairly robust network for a club like Lupercalia, with some fairly impressive features - unaware of her presence within it, just waiting to be subverted.

Mekhajakumaar: I have secured access to the entire Lupercalia network, and there’s a lot of things I can do with it. That access grants us powerful tools, but we should use them carefully. I’ll keep a feed on my entoptics open if anyone needs remote access, keep me posted.

 

[CelticSol]

Euphemia “Eppie” Cross & Rushing Jaws
Lupercalia
(ft. ValtheStarGal as Rushing Jaws)​

As Eppie moves along to the pounding music, Eppie uses her new vantage point of her target in order to gauge Ryong’s mental state. He is sandwiched between two other dancers, grinning ear-to-ear in a cheshire smile only someone completely off the shits on drugs could manage. Between being a rowdy college student and an even rowdier adult, Eppie knows her way around party drugs of every kind, and she bets her that hat poor Ryong has ingested maybe a little too much juice.

She makes a silent prayer on his behalf. That poor boy is going to be waking with a hangover, and no amount of medicines will be able to save him from that fate.

Eppie refocuses on his companions, who are absolutely way more sober than the man between them. Despite their sobriety, they don't seem to be inclined to leave their positions any time soon, dancing joyfully with untouched drinks in their hands and laughing along to Ryong’s slurred comments, or even just laughing at his random bursts of giggles.

Eppie purses her lips as she avoids the wandering hands of a fellow club-goer. If she wants to get close, she will have to get him to come to her.

For a moment, Eppie has no idea how to proceed. As a modernized remix of Toxic by Britney Spears begins playing through Lupercalia, an idea dawns on Eppie when she makes eye contact with a clearly-out-of-his-element Rushing Jaws.

She grins as she dances over to the neo-orca. She takes his hands in her’s, pulling him close to her and wrapping his arms around her hips. She opens a window to PM to RJ.

jukeboxmaiden: [mr. long man jenkins is too fucked up by far to be capable of noticing anything other than a Scene, and his dancing partners don’t seem likely to relinquish their position to give me a shot so he’s got to come to me]

Then, she smiles wide, moving her hands to RJ’s hips to guide him to move to the beat, rolling onto her tiptoes to speak into his ear: “Dance with me! Let’s make a scene!”

Thanks to the augmented vision of his Fury, Rushing Jaws is able to get a good look at Ryong and know exactly what Eppie meant by his being absolutely juiced to cloud nine. What he does not see coming is Eppie’s diversion and the fact that he is suddenly much deeper in the crowd with her than what he initially bargained for. The rising fire of MRDR within his core is complimented by an altogether different but no less intoxicating heat as his hands are guided to Eppie’s hips, feeling shockingly at home amid the noise and roil of the dance floor.

Not all that different from an aquarave, huh??
[You fucking got this!]

Rushing Jaws smiles as though dosed with Juice himself and nods with a neo-orca smile at her suggestion, falling into the rhythm of the music with her and following her lead to Make a Scene. It surprises Rushing Jaws how naturally dancing in a context like this comes to him: even on mission, here for a purpose other than recreation, his focus is on no one other than Eppie and nothing other than dancing with her, the feeling of MRDR in his system and her in his hands enrapturing in a way he has only felt in an aquarave on Ceres, dosed on enough party drugs to stone a neo-orca and entwined with a partner on the swim. And the feeling of her hands on him…

Māz, there are so many things i wanna do with Eppie right now.
[Keep it PG, hotshot, you’re on the clock.]
Hey now, it was her idea!! We gotta make a scene!!

Clubs have always been Eppie’s scene; she loves pounding music, she likes the way people let loose in a way they never do under the neon lights, and she loves grabbing a dance with partners that catch her eye and dancing the night away with them held close.

Even on the job, the cloud of duty hovering over top of them, Eppie can’t help but be lost to the music as she dances close to Rushing Jaws, mouthing along to the pieces of songs that she recognizes. She feels that there is a tense set to his shoulders that she reads as discomfort as she runs her hands up his arms, so she links her hands around the back of his neck, sliding ever closer to him to put her lips to his ear, “Relax. Just follow my lead, don’t think about it. It’s just you and I.”

She presses a small kiss to the junction of his neck and his shoulder, pressing her head into his collarbone a moment before she shifts, spinning to press her back against RJ’s chest as she continues to move to the rhythm of the song against RJ. Ryong gaze flickers to her as she makes eye contact with him for an instant too long for Ryong to not be interested. Eppie reaches her hand back into RJ’s hair as she turns her head to shelter her words from being read by her target, “Tuck your head into my shoulder, like you’re into this.”

Rushing Jaws has all but transcended conscious thought. His body is burning so deliciously with the twin fires of MRDR and arousal, the driving music resonating deep within what feels like ought to be his soul, and now Eppie is in his arms, dancing against him in a way that reminds him of ‘dancing’ with does in aquaraves, worlds away. He does not have to embellish the way he feels about this, his hands coursing up and down Eppie’s body in time to the music, the muscles within taut like bowstrings on the MRDR. He is careful not to glance too closely at Ryong for fear of spooking him off the chase, instead breathing deep the perfume Eppie wears - a perfume that comes very close to capturing what the color pink would be scented like - and follows her lead. His head is well tucked into Eppie’s shoulder, and he can’t fully resist nuzzling against her in a way that would clearly convey what he feels to a neo-cetacean partner. Even with the concerns of the mission, Rushing Jaws feels the temptation to just... let go.

Eppie rolls her head back as RJ nuzzles into her shoulder, a broad grin on her face as she dances against him. It helps ease her nerves a bit, the gnawing worry that RJ is uncomfortable fading in the sensation his neo-cetacean gesture of comfort and familiarity, his hands gripping tighter to her hips. She rests her hands on his, closing her eyes as she begins to follow the rhythm he sets to their dance, reacting to his fingers occasional clench against her bare hip with a laugh and hip bump.

She’s almost forgotten her mission here when she feels a hand not belonging to RJ’s on her waist.

Eppie’s eyes snap open as general awareness of her surroundings outside of RJ returns to her. RJ is still dancing, but his face is no longer tucked into her shoulder and he is on high alert, based on the muscle tension she feels pressed against her back. Eppie looks up, and finds herself looking into Ryong’s face, his hand tightening on her waist.

He ducks down to yell in her ear as his arm winds around her, “Hey, babe!” He says, laughter bubbling in his voice, “I saw you checking me out! Come dance with me!”

Eppie laughs, leaning into Ryong’s grasp as far as she can - then realizes RJ’s hands still hold her hips, keeping her close to him. Eppie shifts, trapped between the grasp of the two men, and her eyebrows upturn in concern as she takes in RJ’s wary expression, “I’m gonna dance with him for a while, is that alright?”

Ryong giggles hysterically, juice wavering his ability to sense anything besides euphoria, “You don’t have to ask him permission! You’re a strong, independent woman!”

Eppie flashes a smile at Ryong and chirps a quick, “Just don’t want anybody to feel left out!” Before she returns her eyes to RJ, pulling away from his grip to go along with Ryong, “I’ll be right back after a few songs.”

Being recalled from the ecstacy of dancing with Eppie and the prospect of having to let her go feels like being rudely awakened from a beautiful dream; for an instant, he feels resentment, anger, and an impulse to protect Eppie from Ryong, before his higher faculties register that Eppie is telling him she will be back to a few songs. The smile he puts on is considerably more forced than the one before it, but he is able to find the rhythm of the beat and start dancing by himself again as Eppie goes off with Ryong in order to fulfill the mission. Watching Ryong dance with Eppie sets Rushing Jaws to burning with envy, even as other dancers - previously indifferent - start eyeing him invitingly.

Before he is beached on his own envy, however, Rushing Jaws catches sight of Ryong’s own spurned dance partners - and does not like the way they look at Eppie. It is only in the loosest sense of the term that they can be said to be dancing, holding each other and swaying in time to the beat while glaring at Eppie. To keep up appearances, Rushing Jaws accepts the invitation of a sape trying to take up the spot left vacant by Eppie, maneuvering to where he can keep a close eye on the two sapes paying way too much attention to Eppie for his liking.

Azathothwakes {PM to jukeboxmaiden}: [i’m watching them now, do what you gotta do, but be advised: ryong’s partners are watching you]

As Eppie dances, a notification lights up her entopics, and the message is almost enough to shake the carefree smile she has put on. She can see them out of the corner of her eye, looking towards her. As Ryong grinds against her with all the grace of a newborn deer off the shits on juice, Eppie leans her head against his shoulder with a giddy, faux-intoxicated laugh, and spots the two former partners watching her close.

Both seem… A bit too interested in her. It goes beyond the envious interest of jilted lovers; there is a calculation to their gaze as they glare at Eppie. Especially the woman; there is something flickering in her eyes that unsettles Eppie enough that she forces herself to look away.

It takes her a few moments to think of it. As Ryong takes her hand to spin her, it dawns on her that the look flickering in the woman’s eyes is recognition.

Eppie swallows, then replies to RJ.

jukeboxmaiden {PM to Azathothwakes}: roger roger. keep an eye out for me!

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Devin Murphy and Vidar Kryssvinds
(ft TrashRabbit , ValtheStarGal , and surprise guest CelticSol )​

“Come on,” Devin said, patting the table in front of Vidar. “It is not your party, and you cannot cry even if you want to.”
hara{pm to heliotrope}: you know what’s great? not having to dance with people. let’s go get you in brain poking range without having to sweat.
Vidar responded with a mostly performative sigh and followed him out of the booth. He wanted to mute the spicy dancing happening on tacnet, but knew if he did it would backfire some home.
“hypothetically- we’ll be back,” He told Veronica.
Heliotrope{pm to hara}: Good, cause you know what I can’t fucking do? Dance.
hara{pm to heliotrope}: i can but like, at what cost?? we’re going to not dance.
Khadijah was still upstairs, and Devin lead them up with what was left of his death in the afternoon in hand.
Heliotrope {Pm to hara}: Okay do we have an actual plan. I can’t deep scan discreetly- they’re gonna know. And I was stupid and left the knife in the car.
hara{pm to heliotrope}: well, they say no plan survives contact with the enemy, so i cut out the unneccessary bits and don’t plan. if we’re going to die we just scream and run. it’s my foolproof fall back. i’ve only died three times.
Vidar stopped abruptly.
Heliotrope: Devin. blease.
hara: aren’t you already dead tho? it’s fine!!
Heliotrope: I’m dead I’m not fucking stupid. Jesus.
hara: you can have a smart boy or a pretty one. my head’s full of hot air but i’m beautiful
Vidar ran his hands in hair and steeled himself and then caught up.
Heliotrope: You might by able to play this stupid with some people
Heliotrope: But : /
hara: i have like, the ghost of a plan
hara: if i look too hard at it it’ll disappear
Heliotrope: Okay. Fair. but what do I do while you don’t have a plan.
hara: look as cute and stupid as i play
Heliotrope: So keep doing what I’m doing. Got it.
Devin had noted which booth Khadijah had disappeared into, and he hadn't wanted to admit his plan to Vidar, who would not like it at all.
Fuck subtle.
“Oh! I was wrong, it isn't empty at all,” Devin said to Vidar, pushing the curtain aside and strolling in anyway. “Of course, if you only want to visit with old friends, you might as well stay home! Isn't that right?” he asked Khadijah.
Vidar had to do zero acting to have a mortified open mouth expression as Devin tugged him into the booth to sit.
“Ahhey, salaam alaykuuuuum,” responds Khadijah Zosain in her native arabic, arms rising from around the babes on either side of her. Multispectral lighting in the booth reflects off of her brilliant white suit and hijab, revealing elaborate fractal-like calligraphy inscribed in UV light, and the lenses of her vintage aviator sunglasses are perfect mirrors that you could clean your teeth by. Taking the blunt out of her mouth and passing it off to one of the babes on either side of her, she waves the two of them in to the booth.
“Babe, are you sure about these two?” One of her entourage asks, in a razor-sharp spanish; she has similar patterns to Khadijah painted onto her skin, and her outfit seems to consist mostly of AR graphics with shifting textures of various carnivorous animal skins. Her demeanor is considerably colder compared to Khadijah’s, eyeing up Devin and Vidar with a wry you-know-you-can’t-sit-with-us smirk but not going so far as to directly challenge Khadijah.
“Look at them!!” Khadijah implores, indicating the pair with a huge sweeping hand motion, “One of em look liked they walked out of a fuckin anime and the other looks like his fuckin sailing ship just came into port!!”
“I know!!” Her companion says, matching her excitement before casting a sideways glance back at Devin and Vidar, her expression best described as ‘judgemental.’
“Come come, ‘ashab! Have a seat, get out from all that noise!” Khadijah commands with a jovial bluster, taking back the blunt to offer it to them: “want some??”
“God, please,” Says vid reaching out for it. He can’t help liking Khadijah instantly and it was an absolute shame he was anticipating having to ruin her night. He takes a drag and holds it like the hundred year old man he secret is. Blows a smoke ring and savors the flavor of what is obviously some top shelf gourmet kush. It doesn’t hit him as hard as orbital hash- just a good body high. He exhibits some self control and passes it back, “Fucking yes.” And then leans into Devin and smiles, because that was exactly what he had needed and he had said to play dumb. So he did, taking the moment to get a read on the group.
Heliotrope{Tacnet}: I got a hunch these ladies are the muscle. That’s my vibe.
“It’s us, the captain and the cat-girl,” Devin said, accepting a seat. He almost can’t believe that worked. “People are so unfriendly, you’d think you were spitting on some of them, when you try to say hello. I’m glad not everyone on Mars has forgotten how to have fun.”
hara: oh absolutely. and very, veryyyy suspicious.
“Of course not!!” Khadijah agrees with extra volume. “That’s what we’re here to do, have fun!! Isn’t that right, Faith?”
“Of course!!” Faith, the smirking companion, responds. “You’ve just got to be careful with who you let into your circle, that’s all! Can’t have just anyone inviting themselves in, can we?”
“Shhhh, look at them - I’m willing to bet these two know how to have fun!! Strangers, tell us - what are your names and how come we haven’t seen you around here?”
hara: we’re about to get our heads stuffed in the toilet. classic.
“Oh, we’re fresh off the boat, as it were. Just in from Moomintroll for our honeymoon,” Devin said brightly. “I’m Tavrin, and this is Annabelle.”
“Fuck yeah, congratulations!!” Khadijah says, offering the blunt again. “Here - I don’t drink, but I do buy for newlyweds!! What’ll you have??”
“Curious that two newly-weds from a hab in the Jovian Trojans got into a VIP section for an exclusive Elysium club,” Faith muses, studying Vidar and Devin, her smirk just a little bit wider than it was.
“Faith, come on,” Khadijah protests, “there’s got to be a reason! They don’t let just anyone up into VIP at Lupercalia!!”
“Indeed they don’t,” Faith replies. “Mars itself seems quite out of the way for travellers like you - why here and not, say, Titan?”
“Some of us want to see the solar system, Faith,” Devin said, and took a sip of what was left of his drink.
Vidar tapped his chest in a universal, maybe we should go gesture and tried to look as pouty and unuse to mean girl tactics as possible.
Faith only laughs softly to herself, watching Devin for a long second-
“That only sounds fair to me!!” Khadijah proclaims. “‘ashab, tell me of Moomintroll - I am Martian born and raised, I have never been out by the Trojans!! How are the parties out there??”
Faith only takes a sip of her cocktail, awaiting their response.
“Oh moomin troll is quiet,” Says vidar in his thickest oslo acent, “but our heirloom garden is fucking second to none. We have tomatoes that date back from before 20th century gmos. The whole thing was established as a seed vault. Hell we even have un altered lingonberry. You haven’t fucking lived till you’ve had real-pressed lignon cider.” He reached out for the blunt again, because Khadijah was still offering it like a peace treaty. “Our kush is pretty good. Not as good as this,” he said pointing at the blunt as he took a puff.
“You forgot the bees,” Devin said. “There’s just. So many bees everywhere. Big ol’ smart bees,” he added to Khadijah, “Big as my hand.”
“Mhmmm,” vidar said getting comfortable against him. It would be great, if they didn’t actually have to do things, he’d stay right here.
“Whoaaaa,” Khadijah responds, looking at the open palm of her hand, her mouth slightly agape as she presumably imagines what a bee would look like scaled up to that size. “Built yourself a little paradise out there in the black, huh?? Might have to get some of that cider shipped over here from there, I think!!”
“What I’m curious about,” Faith chimes in, “are your connections over here from out there. I have to admit to not knowing so much about Moomintroll beyond its anarchist leanings, and I’d be curious to know who around here has such a high opinion of your cider that they got you invites to Lupercalia?”
“I’m sorry, have we done something offensive?” Devin asked, feigning confusion. “You seem very invested in not liking us. We’re all just here to have fun, we don’t mean any harm.”
“Khadijah, it’s so sweet of you to offer to buy us drinks,” Vidar says, doing his best impression of embarrassed straight couple changes subject so spouse doesn't start a fight.
“Of course, of course!!” Khadijah says, turning to Faith: “What’s the matter Faith, do we have a problem?”
“Am I?” Faith asks Devin in turn, not at all moved by his attempt to shame him. “There’s plenty of ways to have fun around here, this is Lupercalia! I want to know more about you dear, and who it is you know! You’re obviously important people to have access to Lupercalia, I just don’t ever recall seeing your faces around here, that’s all!”
“Faith?” Khadijah asks, picking up on something in her tone.
“It’s just that association is everything around here,” Faith continues. “Its true, they don’t let just anyone up into a VIP section like this! I just want to be sure there wasn’t even a remote possibility that security was somehow eluded or spoofed somehow - I mean, could you imagine what someone with access to those of our standing could do? Particularly those with, say, misplaced grudges?”
Although her eyes are covered by mirrored sunglasses, Khadijah’s expression shifts from one of confusion to one picking up on what Faith is saying. She places the blunt back in her mouth before wrapping her arms around the ladies on either side of her, her once jovial manner cooling off as she takes Faith’s point.
“Maybe you should tell us who it is you know around here?” Khadijah suggests, still quite diplomatic. “Faith here worries so, and I too would like to have fun - perhaps you could assuage her concerns?”
“Oh, she doesn’t like to be name dropped, you know?” Devin said. “You must know of Grace Callahan, right? We’re close.”
“Yooooooo,” Khadijah says, her cool affectation melting away at the mention of none other than Grace Callahan; her other companion - who’s rep profile gives the name of Mei - breaks her silence with a ‘whoaaaa’ of her own, and even Faith stops short at the mention of that name.
“Yo Grace Callahan’s the one who’s been all over the headlines, yeah??” Khadijah asks, turning to Mei. “She’s been making power plays in the Congress, yeah??”
“No no, the Hypercorp Council,” Mei corrects. “I think her bae made judge for the Ministry recently?? There was something or other about Norne accepting an invite to lunch!!”
“Fuckkkkkkk,” Khadijah says, looking over to Faith. “Think they’re in good with Oversight?”
“I really couldn’t say,” Faith says, doing her best to cover being thrown off balance - but betrayed by the microexpressions that give away her consternation. “Grace’s business really isn’t mine.”
“No kidding,” Mei says. “The Callahans are on the rise. No wonder you wouldn’t mention her name lightly.”
“She keeps saying I’m a loud mouthed idiot, so it’s not like she’ll be surprised at me,” Devin said with a shrug.
Heliotrope{Pm to Hara}: “Rep. Callahan laundering money into Labrador retriever up-lift research!!” “Rep. Callahan’s 3rd marriage to sex badger!!!” “Rep. Callahan intense diet regime: four almonds a day “Max””
The tabloid headlines are very unhelpful but he’s too stoned and they’re too funny to move on to real data.
[Oh, boss, that was real pathetic...I’m gonna turn the medichines on]
Nu. Penny. blease.
Heliotrope: {Pm to hara}: I mean this sincerely.
Heliotrope: {Pm to hara}: who the fuck is Grace callahan?
hara{pm to heliotope} oh shit are the almonds activated??
Heliotrope: Don’t fucking tell me almonds have on buttons and tits. I can’t handle this.
hara{pm to heliotrope}: you’re too stoned and beautiful to explain this to rn
Quite a few booths over, Veronica has been quietly working on skimming a few thousand credits off of Lupercalia’s profit margins and erasing the records in order to finance a multitasking augmentation, when Brumaro alerts her to the mention of none other than Grace Fucking Callahan: if she had blood, it would be running cold enough to freeze. She minimizes the window of her ongoing credit siphoning and replays Devin claiming to be a close association of - sure enough - Grace Fucking Callahan, the words so easy off his tongue like a power sledge blow to her chest.
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: I just want to be clear that there wasn't some glitch on our TacNet feed and that I didn’t just hear that you’re close to Grace Callahan, the Terror of the Callahan family who’s been facilitating hostile takeovers for their front companies and taken down several larger competitors?? The same Grace Callahan who is making connections with Oversight’s General Secretary, Gia Norne, one of the most dangerous rivals to our conspiracy in the solar system???
hara{tacnet}: that’s my deadname i’m working keep up!!!!
Heliotrope:{Tacnet} What the actual fuck.
hara:{tacnet} it’s simple, there are 3 forks of me. one is on carnivale, a blameless horny angel living his best life; me, the og, doing the lord’s work; and my evil twin who was not allowed to stay dead in the fall.
jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: hey devin? real quick question - what in the actual, literal fuck
jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: also i feel like even context cant help me here
jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: what the fuck are yall doing
hara:{tacnet} i am trying to work, please
jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: have u tried glitterbombing them
jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: i glitter bombed long man jenkins and hes having a blast
jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: might just be all the drugs tho
hara: {tacnet} you are SO WISE
hara: {tacnet} vidar we need GLITTER
Azathothwakes {TacNet} definitely all the drugs
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet} Lord of the Hosts…
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet} No wonder Grace is such a terror, if you’re what, em, their? unleashed id looks like.
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: I can definitely see why they’d be shaken by that. Grace Callahan is not someone who’s attention you want to court.
jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: sorry veronica idk how to read
hara {tacnet}: listen we were always fated to kill each other it’s whatever
“Now that the cats out of the bag,” Vidar said lazily, “Who wants to get glitter?”
“YOOOOOOOO” both Khadijah and Mei say at the same time, while Faith is slow on the draw but who would otherwise convincingly feign excitement.
“Hey hey hey if you think I wanna get that shit all over my ten-thousand-credit Yaolan suit then you would be absolutely right motherfucker!!!” Khadijah announces.
“See, Faith?? Nothin to worry about!!” She declares to Faith before quickly returning her attention to the sentinels. “Now then, your drinks!! What’ll the newlyweds be having??”
“I knew you were cool- I’ll take another black velvet- I lost the other one.”
“I told you I’d find a drink you liked,” Devin said.
Vidar made a face and booped his nose in annoyance, because he could not juggle opsec and he knew it. Vidar pulled out a little bead of glitter Eppie had gifted him earlier- or devin. Listen some one had put them in his pockets and then he patted the circular bench closest to him in hopes of getting Kadijah to come chill with him.
Devin pulled more glitter from the pockets of his jacket and piled them on the table.
“I will have a mimosa, to toast the world’s about to be sparkliest Yaolan suit,” he said. Vidar giggled because Devin’s fork was the worlds worst human and this might as well be happening.
“You fuckin got it,” Khadijah declares, tapping away at the touchscreen of their table to order drinks on their behalf. “A little something to help ease the tension here at the table, yeah? Yo Faith?”
“Yes?”
“You want anything babe?”
“...another Cosmo, if you would.”
“Comin’ right up~” Khadijah says, sweet as a lover, as she taps the order in. “And now, my friends, you will see the perks of being a platinum member of one of Elysium’s finest clubs-”
-just as three rotordrones descend, orders for the drinks they now carry punched in not a minute ago, setting each drink down gently before each recipient, before ascending and vanishing to fulfill new orders.
“Yo,” Vidar says with a certain amount of impressed sincerity. He’s starting to sober up, but the reprieve was needed, his mood was really getting in the way of getting shit done. He takes a sip and then cracks the glitter bomb in his fist like a pro, “Are you ready- to be glitter?” He asks dramatically.
“PUT THE GLITTER ON MY BODAYYYYYYYY” Khadijah shouts, blunt in the air as Mei screams and even Faith laughs, careful to cover her drink ahead of the imminent glitterbombing.
Vidar tosses the gliter up, and watches it fall on her- and everything else. He laughes. Because Khadijah reminds him of the people he has at home, she’s good people, or at least seems it. He rubs his hands together, spreading the concentrated glitter around. He reaches out to smear it on her face, one hand on her leg, laughing-
-only to have his hand swatted out of the air by Faith before it can make contact with Khadijah’s face.
“YO, babe!! What-!!”
“I’ve seen too many people get hit with slap patches to fall for that,” Faith replies, glaring at Vidar. “I watched you smear something in your hand, what the hell do you think you’re doing??”
“???” the noise vidar made was sincere because he had only rubbed his hands together to smear the glitter around- he was dangerous in other ways, so good on Faith, he guessed, “Oh- I get it. You’re security. I thought you were just being terrible. No man, look,” he shows her his hands, smears it across his own face, turns and nails devin in the face and then smears his white outfit- “Look you both match now-” he says being sure to lean back toward Khadijah when he was done with his crimes, “It’s just glitter. What a drag,” and then to Devin, “Maybe you were right, we should have gone to the swarm, Kjaere- we really just don’t fit in here.”
He had slipped the Kjaere in to sell it, because they were fake married, but the word burned his mouth.
“Yo, Faith, they’re legit and it's just glitter, what’s the issue?” Khadijah asks, puzzled as well as worried.
“Oh babe, you know I gotta be careful,” Faith replies, her tone softening for Khadijah. “Remember what happened the last time someone tagged you with a slap patch?”
“Wh- ohhhhhhh,” Khadijah says, looking off with a small shudder as she remembers what happened the last time someone tagged her with a slap patch.
“It could have been a dose of bad Buzz, or Forgotten Hand or even something worse!!” Faith adds, regarding Vidar with suspicion in a bid to take the moral high ground.
“I got you,” Khadijah says, trying to be diplomatic. Turning to Vidar, she continues: “Saddiq, I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding - Faith here saw you reaching, wanted me to be safe, didn’t realize you were trying to splat me with glitter, yeah? Club scene is fun, but not without its risks, yes? We all want to have fun and be safe, especially in today’s world!! Perhaps we are simply not familiar enough to be so, em, familiar for now - drink, smoke, tell us of your travels, lets get to know one another!!”
“We don’t have much of that sort of thing were I’m from- I mean we have all kinds of psychedelics but typically violating consent like that is going to get you black listed quick,” Vidar says, and that was mostly true on locus, party predators were usually swiftly dealt with by the community. He runs what’s left of the glitter on his hands through his hair- The ball was back in Devins court. “I’m a bit fucked up, I should have asked first- speaking of consent. I’m touchy feely. My bad... I haven’t traveled much, that’s Tavrins wheelhouse. You know everyone and been fucking everywhere~ I’m just a gardener.”
“There is no such thing as just a gardener,” Devin said immediately, because that was an important fact on a swarm. How else were you supposed to eat in space? “That’s why we’re here, right? I don’t usually get to party much, when I travel,” he continued, mostly at Khadijah, and wrapped his arm around Vidar again. Nobody had to know he liked that part of their cover, right? “I’m a facilitator, on Moomintroll, so I get to play ambassador with most of the other anarchist stations in the Trojans, and some of the scum swarms too. And Mars, once in a while.” He ran a finger around the rim of his mimosa. “Not always fun, but you meet the most interesting people,” he added with a wink.
He let Devin tuck him in place without a second thought.
Heliotrope{Pm to heliotrope}: So I’ve got nothing. This is not my skill set.
Vidar thought for a moment that being Anabella Ory didn’t sound so awful- but that was how it went with cover identities went sometimes. He also tried to imagine a reality where Devin wasn’t lying out his ass, and knew he could do the job. None of these thoughts helped him get inisde of Khadijah’s beautiful head.
“Ohohoho, scum swarms huh?” Khadijah says with a giggle. “I bet you met some especially wild people out in the black!! What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done in a party?”
“Decided not to leave it and left a fork on Carnivale,” Devin said promptly, because it was true.
“Carnivale?” Khadijah asks, intrigued; Mei looks every inch as intrigued, and even Faith seems to be paying attention.
Vidar gives his chest a smack, because this was just bragging.
“What? They asked! I was there for a week and I don’t think I slept at all.”
“Ohohohohohoheyooo!!” Khadijah hoots, drinking this up like delicious tea. “Saddiq, you’ve got to tell me when that swarm is in Mars orbit so I can hitch a fucking ride up there!!”
Faith, having been quiet for much of this exchange, has been casting her attention between Devin, Vidar, and her entoptics, as though putting some pieces together. As Devin explains his position as a facilitator for Moomintroll, the faintest trace of a realization plays across her face, gone as soon as it appears. By the time Khadijah has settled, Faith is smiling like the cat that just caught the canary.
Heliotrope{Tacnet}: Hey veronica. Can you ruin this faith girls night real quick? I’m getting very impatient.
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: I sure hope you don’t need a diversion now? What’s happening?
“Khadijah dear, I’m afraid I’ve got some buisness,” Faith says, something pointed in the phrase ‘got some buisness’ stopping Khadijah short, her jovial bluster melting away and waiting on Faith to continue.
“Okay, I’ve got to admit that between you two, you can spin a real yarn, but I’ve got some questions of my own,” Faith asks, placing her right arm on a table - which in a second opens to reveal a weapons-grade laser pointed right at Devin Murphy.
“If you two are done spewing bullshit, then maybe you can start by telling me what happened on the Annora Arabella?”
“What the fuck is an Annora Arabella,” Devin said, looking very hard at the laser.
“Devin, if you lie to me one more time, I’m shooting you,” Faith says, an audible charging noise coming from the hand laser.
“That’s a compelling argument,” Devin said.

 

[Graystone713]

Mach was trying to be quiet, stay out of the spotlight, and not get drunk. Easy stuff, but it wasn’t easy to just sit somewhere this loud. He was getting anxious, antsy, waiting for the axe to fall, the hammer to drop. When was the fight coming? He lost composure when he saw the drones. They were civilian models, intended for serving drinks. But in his mind he saw hidden weapons, the modified civilian drones Rob used in the Fall.
They’re gonna start shooting any second now. Gotta get to cover, gotta get out of here, can’t let ‘em see me…
[Marcus… I know it’s a challenge with that beat, but you remember the breathing exercises? We gotta throttle back. Casual night drive.]
Mach tried the breathing exercises, and it helped, but it was hard to keep rhythm.
[Keep it up… Think them self affirmations.]
That’s not Rob. We’re not at war. The fall is over. That’s not Rob. We’re not at war. The fall is over.
[Back to level, bossman? Need a Marga-Weed-A?]
Fuck I sure do but I gotta stay alert right now. Overwatch and all.
Mach didn’t register himself slump to the floor, or the horrified expression he had when he did. But he got up, and there were eyes on him.

Sleipnir [PM to AzathothWakes]: [Az, I don’t want to alarm the social team, but I think I’ve been made. Should I just pre-empt the engagement or… I dunno, avoid ‘em?]
Azathtohwakes: [we dont want to throw the first punch up here if we don’t have to.]
Azathothwakes: [at least not before we’re sure we know what we’re dealing with.]
Azathtothwakes: [what’s the sitrep?]
Sleipnir: [I sort of spent a minute in Cali when I saw the waiter drones. When I got back I had a group of unfriendlies sizing me up. They’re dressed nice, but they look like they’re armed-weapon ports.]
Sleipnir: [gonna reposition, see if they follow me.]
Azathothwakes: [copy. got two im watchin, ping me if you need backup]
Sleipnir: [Roger.]

Mach tried not to pay mind to the crowd as he moved, but he could feel the eyes. He moved his hand to brush his hair and block his view, then noticed something. Claws. Coming right out of his knuckles, through his gloves. That. Would explain a lot. So he shot off another PM as he retracted them.

Sleipnir [PM to AzathothWakes]: [RJ I might be an idiot, I had claws drawn for at least a minute after the Cali episode.]
Azathothwakes: [shit]
Azathothwakes: [are they making moves on you?]

The group eyeing Mach is a pack of six socialites, a mix of genders but all ludicrously beautiful and stylish in the conventions of the Elysium scene - one of whom breaks from the group to turn and face Mach. He looks Mach over, rolling his shoulders with a self-assured smirk, and his outfit even hits a lot of the same racer motifs as Mach’s. His colors are white and red, and on his leather jacket there is a Chinese dragon wound around itself in a shape that insiders - or enemies - would recognize as belonging to the 14K triad. For those in the know, the swagger with which Xia Jingyi walks is unmistakable, as is the menace in his gaze.

“Yo,” Jingyi calls out Mach, arms wide in a come-at-me gesture, “Shui Fong? You got a problem, man?”
“Yeah, it figures you’d hang out somewhere too cheap for real waiters. 14K… Should’ve picked somewhere else to go on my time off, right?”

Mach retorted, rolling his eyes. This guy. This FUCKING guy. Of course he’d recognize Dai Ruogang while he wasn’t Dai Ruogang. Mach’s posture was relaxed now, he knew what this guy was about and he wasn’t threatened. Thing was, Mach had better things to do than race this asshole.

“Big talk coming from a meat popsicle,” Jingyi shoots back. “The fuck you eyeing us up for, huh? I see those cat claws, you got a fucking problem chilong?”

Azathothwakes {PM to Sleipnir}: [why do I hear shouting??]
Sleipnir: [They saw the claws, AND I know this asshole from my ‘Other Job’. He’s 14K. Good chance he just wants a race, but he’s really pissy today.]
Sleipnir: [I don’t think I need backup yet, he’s not subtle and security’ll break this up before things get bad.]
Azathothwakes: [copy. deescalate if you can, disengage if you gotta, dont let the dude under your skin.]

“Your fucking pod brain give out there? What’s up, dude??”
“You weren’t on earth F-day, were you? I was, and those drones brought me screaming back to ten years ago. Besides, you can’t tell me that you don’t have implants. I can see the ports. That said, I was taking a day off to meet some people so wrap up the shit talk about my rental and get to a point.”
Jingyi doesn’t let Mach’s disrespect get to him. He steps up to Mach with a challenging grin, his own body language daring Mach to swing. Jingyi looks over Mach, on a train of thought of his own, before he says anything else.
“Hong Kong, popsicle. Drove against them, won against them, saved lives - and unlike you, I’m not scared of waiter drones.”
Once the laughter of his socialite companions to abate, he continues: “I dunno what kind of friends a pod person like you has waiting up here, but I’d worry about the impact being friends with someone like you would have on their reputation. Y’know, I even wonder if you didn’t bullshit your way up here; you think we should call ‘em over, find out?”
“What do you think this place is, Chilong? Olympus? It isn’t as hard as you think to get in here. But neither of us came for the beef, and you know I have Synths at home. So you go back to drinking and circlejerking with your friends while I convince mine that their time on the red planet is best spent elsewhere. Because I ain’t got time for you.”
Mach said, walking away without so much as a middle finger. But in his mind…
[FUCK WE NEED TO DES-TROY HIS ASS.]
FUCKER NEEDS TO CHOKE TO DEATH ON EXHAUST
[FUCKER CAN DIE CHOKING ON YOUR TAILPIPE]
Okay we’re not making him blow a car’s tailpipe, that’s a bit much.
[okay fair.]
BUT WE SHOULD STILL RUN HIS ASS DOWN.
[GRIND THAT FACE ON THE PAVEMENT]
IF ONLY WE HAD TIME
[MAYBE WHEN WE GET HOME?]
SOUNDS GREAT
Jingyi only laughs, as do his companions, as Mach walks off, backing down in their eyes from the challenge. He rejoins his group, glancing at Mach one last time before taking his drink back and wrapping his arm around one of his companions. The other patrons return to their drinks, some eyeing Mach with either wariness or disdain but none going so far as to call him out. Lupercalia’s VIP lounge seems to return to normal for the most part: just beneath the din, however, the security officers step away from their posts, some moving discreetly and quickly to converge on Khadijah’s booth and some toward the floor where Ryong and his partners dance.

Sleipnir {Tacnet}:[Security’s moving on the booth and the dance floor, trying to be subtle about it. No idea who’s been made yet, but I’d get ready.]
Sleipnir: [Okay given the laser it’s definitely Devin. RJ, I can back him up if you keep Eppie safe. Good plan?]
Azathothwakes: [fucking wonderful, that’ll have to do!!]

 

[ValtheStarGal]

(Collaborative Post with CelticSol )​

Eppie’s not sure how Devin and Vidar are doing with Khadijah, but if things are going half as well as they’re going with Ryong, then they’re going to make out like bandits tonight.

As focused as she is on her mission objective, Eppie is actually having a lot of fun with Ryong; they’re dancing across the floor with reckless abandon, and though his laughter is fueled by a haze of drugs, it’s infectious, and as he spins her round and round, she can’t help that her laughter joins his. It’s difficult to speak over the pounding music and the yelling and the laughter, but there is nothing that brings people together quite like bonding by screaming lyrics to a song.

Tuning into tacnet reminds her of a rather glum reality; as fun as Ryong is to dance with, he is a mark, not a friend. It falters the smile on her face, and although she fixes her expression back into gleeful bliss and Ryong is far too lost in the sauce to even properly recognize his surroundings, she can’t help but feel guilt gnaw her insides. It’s different, to browse Elias - he’s her little brother, and would’ve probably told her the information she wanted if she had pestered him long enough - but to browse Ryong against his will? Invade his mind and compromise the privacy of his own thoughts? Destroying someone’s privacy to invoke their own downfall is… sickening, honestly.

But it’s the reason Firewall wanted her on board. So she relaxes into Ryong’s arms, allowing her defences to lower and lower until the DJ’s remix is drowned out by another song - a choir of millions, billions, trillions, all whispering secrets found only in the darkest depths of the void. It hums a sweet song, beautiful and haunting and terrifying all at once, as Eppie turns to face Ryong. He grins at her broadly, giggling with glee as she reaches her hand out and places her fingertips tenderly on his face.

[What would you like to see, Euphemia?] Sezé asks, and Eppie swears that, for a moment, she can see Sezé’s plasticine face and her countless teeth in the reflection of Ryong’s eyes.

Emilio.

Eppie buries her head into Ryong’s shoulder, her hand sliding down his face to rest on the curve of his neck —

— It’s morning. You’re riding in the shotgun seat of a mars buggy on a highway - a kilometer marker of the old M5 streaks by, the cool Martian sunrise to your right. You watch the landscape shift around you: mesas and dunes, all the rust red you know and love, and all of it natural aside from the paved road before you.
“What are you gonna do when you get back?” You ask, turning to face the driver’s side, where Emilio Salgado Vega is seated, eyes forward on the road. In the corner of your eye, you can see Khadijah in the back, happily exploiting the room provided by three-person seating being short two people, her vintage aviators and chameleon cloak hood up as she naps.
“Don’t much care for the city,” Emilio responds, “but I know good people in Palembang who I aim to pay a visit.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“Family friends,” is all Emilio says in response. He’s been quiet since getting out of the Zone; not unusual first thing, but it’s been days since clearing the cordon and rest-stopping at Portmanteau. Even now his face is expressionless, focused on the road ahead as if he couldn’t just let the vehicle AI drive. You’d think someone who’s about to be set for life ought to be happier.
“I’m looking forward to a taste of the high life, myself,” you say, grinning as debauched fantasies fill your mind. “This is the shit we dream of, ‘mee.”
“Yeah, sure,” Emilio says.
“Still worried?” You dare to ask.
“You’re not?” He asks back.
“Look dude, all of that shit’s deaᵈ... ᶦᵗ ᵃᶦⁿᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳᵒᵇˡᵉᵐ…”—

— Eppie drags in a harsh breath through her teeth, tasting blood on her tongue and feeling a thickness build in the back of her throat. She coughs hard, the sound drowned by music, and tastes a mouthful of blood that she forces herself to swallow. Her mind spins with possibilities, her eyes searching Ryong’s face for any recognition that she browses his thoughts like one could browse the mesh, and finds none. Her next inquiry spawns a deafening crescendo from the Star—

Show me TITANs.

— “Why did you back out???” You demand, looking at your old friend with tears in your eyes and fury choking your throat.
“I can’t forget what we found in there, Ryong,” Emilio replies.
You are both in a simulscape: you are aboard a simple sailing boat, on the great northern ocean that will come to be following centuries of Martian terraforming. The sky is overcast, and the day is cool, but the winds blow fair and the sea is steady; if only the same could be said for your conversation.
“You backed out and now they’re going to hunt you down!!” You shout, the fury giving way to fear. You want to be afraid for this man, but you hate him. You don’t want to hate this man, but the hatred stabs into your mind like a knife. You just fucking wish he’d taken the deal.
“They can try,” Emilio says, the stupid motherfucker.
“What, are you going to ground?? Are your little friends going to protect you??”
“Yeah. They are,” Emilio replies, the fucking stupid motherfucker.
“And when Valentina the Viper finds you and plugs your stack into a fucking torture sim for backing out after we made the fucking deal, do you think your dead friends will thank you???”
“She has to catch me first,” Emilio says, the absolutely fucking stupid motherfucker. “Ryong? Do you even remember what we found in there?”
“No?? That was part of the deal??”
“TITAN shit-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP,” you scream, wanting so badly not to hate this man but absolutely despising him. “If you tell me, I’m fucked too!!”
“Then we don’t have anything left to discuss,” Emilio says, before his simulmorph turns and heads below deck.
“EMILIO,” you shout, a demand for him to come back, rushing to ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳʷᵃʸ. ʰᵉ ᶦˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ᵈᵉᶜᵏ... ʰᵉ ᶦˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ… —

Eppie pulls away from Ryong as she feels blood drip down her lip, and wipes the bloody mess onto the back of her hand. Ryong looks down at her in amused confusion, then barks a sharp laugh, “Babe, you’re bleeding everywhere!”

Eppie forces a laugh, tasting blood on her teeth, “I think I went too heavy with the coke! Dried out my nose or something! I’m going to clean this up, then I’ll be back. Save me a dance!”

Ryong giggles with a nod, giving her a good natured ass slap as she turns. Eppie makes sure to look over her shoulder to give him a flirty smile as she walks away before she opens a message in her entopics —

jukeboxmaiden {tacnet}: i’ve got info on where emilio went. if you guys got your info, lets

The message is left unfinished as Eppie is suddenly tanked over, lifted right off her feet by an unknown person. She screams in panic, thrashing in alarm, until she sees that the person holding her is Rushing Jaws. Eppie’s gaze snaps over his shoulder, and her heart drops into her stomach as she notices the cyberclaws adorning the fingers of a woman she recognizes as one of Ryong’s former dancing partners.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK- ”

He’d been watching them since Eppie stole Ryong away, and when they vanished into the crowd he knew it was time. He had to get to Eppie before they did, and although he couldn't tell where they’d gone to, he could tell where Eppie was. All his training, all his instincts, all his experience kick in, guiding him through the crowd, to Eppie - totally unaware of the woman about to stab her with cyberclaws - and in a smooth motion snatching her and getting her away from her assailants. Holding her so tight, using his mass to conceal her, he deposits her at the edge of the crowd, dancing bodies between her and her attackers.

“Go,” Rushing Jaws rasps the command right into her ear, before letting her go and watching her flee. Knowing her attackers are in pursuit, Rushing Jaws vanishes into the crowd, the noise and movement perfect for a predator to stage a surprise attack of his own. He doesn't have to wait long for his opening: he spots the two of them scanning the crowd, looking for her - the masculine one closer. His blood sings with the twin joys of MRDR and the hunt, putting himself in position for a charging strike; he may not know what they’re armed with, but that won’t matter if he can get even one good hit on them first.

When the opening comes, Rushing Jaws is ready: under cover of club and noise, he charges, armed with nothing but MRDRed up fists, military training, and razor sharp rage. The masculine one does not see him coming in time, and Rushing Jaws is able to catch his arm, hyperextend it, and throw a palm strike that strikes through the elbow in a smooth motion, fracturing the arm and wrenching a scream out of Eppie’s would-be assailant that pierces the music. He staggers in agony, and Rushing Jaws gets a good look at the compound fracture he inflicted. He grins, knowing full well that at least one of them is already on their way out of this fight. He watches the other circle around, cyberclaws drawn and looking to him with an expression that shifts from shock to rage before his eyes.

Rushing Jaws smiles a neo-orca smile.

Azathothwakes {TacNet}: CONTACT

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Lupercalia - VIP Lounge
(Ensemble Post, featuring TrashRabbit , wickedlittlecritta , Graystone713 , CelticSol )​

“If you don’t start talking, I will also shoot y-” Faith starts to say before hearing a scream from the dance floor that calls her attention away from Devin and Vidar-
-just as the touch-table they’re seated at bucks. Her hand laser is knocked off-target, and Faith has to both stop the table from landing on her, but must also take whatever shot she has. She shoots - and misses, the beam striking the space between Devin and Vidar’s heads.
”Fuck!!” Faith snarls, making the snap decision to aim for Devin-
-and only singeing his suit, the shot rushed and her aim still unsteady from the battle over the table.

Not that he couldn’t still be dangerous, but a compound fracture means that Rushing Jaws should at least be able to focus his efforts on one who nearly stabbed Eppie, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. Rushing Jaws closes the distance fast, hitting the neurachem to compound the edge MRDR gives him and going for the swing - but his target is fast, and his first strike barely misses her. His second strike, however, hits home - and hard, hard enough for him to feel something crack under the force of his blow. Cyberclaws staggers back, grimacing and snarling at him as Rushing Jaws readies his next strike.

Eppie was going to listen to RJ. She was going to run down the stairs, go out the door, and get the car so they can arm themselves. But she looked back — fatal mistake number one — and saw the razor sharp glint of the woman’s cyberclaws under the neon lights, slashing at an unarmed RJ, and she hesitated — fatal mistake number two.

So Eppie did the illogical thing, turning on her heel and pushing past the current of the club-goers fleeing the scene of the fight, spotting RJ and the woman engaged in a vicious fist fight. Eppie watches them for the barest second as RJ lands a hit on the woman so hard even Eppie feels it. Breathing purposefully to keep calm, Eppie sets her jaw and her resolve as she charges the woman.

Her first reach for the woman is a miss — Eppie reaches for her hand and she ducks swiftly and smoothly out of the way of her reaching hands. But the woman stumbles, and Eppie takes the moment of imbalance to rush and clutch woman’s face in between her hands, the song of the Star playing so loud in Eppie’s mind that it rattles her teeth. The force and their lack of sure footing knocks them both to the ground, a singing voice dominating her mind so completely that it makes her vision of the woman’s shocked, almost nervous expression as Eppie struggles to hold on to consciousness.

The force of Eppie’s sleight is almost as forceful as her command as she screams into the woman’s face, “Defend me!”

Eppie vision darkens, the song too loud to hear anything, to even see, or experience anything else beyond it’s melody. The last thing Eppie sees is the ground rushing towards her as her elbows buckle, darkness swallowing everything as the stress of her sleights on her body claims her consciousness.

Before Eppie even hits the ground, RJ receives a message.

SezétheAssistant {TacNet}: [Rushing Jaws, this is Euphemia’s Muse, Sezé. Please be aware that your attacker is now functioning as an ally, thanks to Euphemia’s “special skills”. Good luck.]

Mach had been in a few fights. This one looked bad, but not Rob-bad. Plus, it was technically a bar fight. So he did the logical bar fight thing: Charge along behind a guard rushing Viddy and Devin’s booth, grab the fucker as they ran, and go for the classic table/bar slam’n’slide. The Yeet was with Marcus, and even though the guard started to halt his momentum, Mach’s was far greater, as was his FERVENT need to kick ass and also keep two idiots from being shot. So, the guard flew through the curtains, a mighty slam was heard, and Mach shouted
“OUTTA THE BOOTH, NOW!”

Several booths over, Veronica is concealed behind a curtain and working feverishly to find whatever means of subverting their systems she can find without having to brute-force hack her way into someone’s mesh inserts. Watching Mach charge a club security officer on TacNet compels her to move fast to head off the alerts that the injuries he will take will throw up on a system, and she is able to snip the digital lines to prevent alerts from going out.
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: I’ll do what I can to buy us time!! I’m open to suggestions!!!

“Holy shit dude!” Devin shouts at Mach, but he does not need to be asked twice. He grabs whatever part of Vidar is within grabbing distance and hauls ass out of the booth before Faith can try to shoot them again, and heads for the stairs, and keeps running.
hara{tacnet}: call the car!!! that’s where the guns are!!!!!!!

Rushing Jaws watches with alarm as Eppie goes down, locking eyes with Cyberclaws - who, despite appearing to be lucid, turns on her heel and charges for her broken-armed companion with murderous intent.
“Wait WEAVER WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING-“ He shouts; Weaver only snarls at him as she buries her cyberclaws in his stomach before wrenching upward. What was supposed to be her comrade falls to the floor, unable to scream through a throat full of blood. He looks at Weaver with shock, his pleading eyes searching for mercy she does not give. She slashes at his throat, and he falls back onto the floor of the club, twitching, coughing, bleeding and fighting for his life on the dance floor. Many of the clubbers present recoil in shock, a few looking on with smiles of grisly fascination - and Ryong laughing like this is the funniest thing he’s ever seen, clapping and “oh, shit”ing loud enough to be heard over the music.

Scrambling to get off the table and grunting in pain, the club security officer Mach threw onto the table draws a microwave agonizer and takes a rushed shot at Mach; the beam misses Mach and a VIP patron shrieks in outraged pain, dropping their glass as the beam intended to agonize Mach hits them instead.

Mei rushes to get out from the booth, drawing a disguised knife out from her dress and charging after Vidar as the bouncer targets Mach. Hot on his heels, she switches her grip on the knife to bring it down on Vidar - and misjudges her swing, stabbing open air instead of Vidar Kryssvinds.

Two of the bouncers close enough to the action draw stunners, the first targeting Weaver as she gets up from mauling her former companion. The beam seems to strike Weaver, but aside from a twitch in response to the sudden stimulus, his shot doesn't seem to be effective. The second takes a shot on Devin, his beam connecting - and failing to stun or even burn through Devin’s armor, the bouncer cursing as he readies another shot.

Faith has only one target in mind, pushing past the chaos to draw a bead on a fleeing Devin. She charges, she aims, she fires - and her beam strikes its mark. Grinning, she only holds it on target, the beam burning through Devin’s armor clothing and bioweave armor to do much more than singe this time.

Devin had been doing his best to avoid getting hit, but he went down hard with a shout on the second shot. He curled up on himself, ignoring the flashing alerts in his vision. At least the medichines were already working.
He had to get up, or Faith was going to kill him. And probably drag him back and kill him again. Which was a lot more fun when you were the one doing the killing. He blinked back tears and struggled to his feet.

With “Weaver” handling broken arm, Rushing Jaws makes the picosecond calculations with the time granted to him by MRDR and Neurachem - and spots Eppie on the floor. Snapping into battlefield medic mode, he drops onto his knees, checking for a pulse, searching for signs of life, weighing whether he will have to get her out or fight for both of their lives-
-when he feels her stirring in his arms.

“Ep- Euphie?? Can you hear me??”

Eppie can’t hear anything beyond the Star, can’t see anything besides a thousand eyes looking back at her, but she can feel that someone has lifted her off the floor. Her eyes wheel around, the whites of her eyes completely stained red by broken blood vessels. She looks to the arms holding her, and finds a being with no face to speak of, skin pulled far too tight over it’s bones, it’s eyes long ovals stretched harshly down it’s long, long face, enormous claws wrapped tight around her torso.

Eppie forces in a deep, shuddering breath to calm her terror, in and out as evenly as she can manage as she pushes back against the tendrils of an episode crawling around her brain like spiders. It croons at her softly, a lullaby to calm her into submission, but she feels tears fall from her eyes instead as she whispers, begging, “Please, please, please no, don’t do this now, I don’t want to hurt them…”

It’s long head tilts, before it covers her eyes with it’s enormous hand. She blinks again and again and again to regain her sight, her vision dark and blurry but clearing, the image of the creatures bioluminescent veins giving way to Rushing Jaws’ concerned gaze. She realizes that it was RJ who was holding her, not a creature, and she breathes out a sigh of relief, wiping blood tinged tears from her face as she realizes the song of the Star is fading back into the sounds of the club and chaos around them.

“Thank fuck, RJ,” She breathes, grasping him around the back of his neck as she tries and fails to pull herself upright. The force she applies wrenches a hard cough out of her, the hacking spitting blood onto her sequined dress. She says nothing for a moment, then says, bitterly, “That is never going to fucking come out. I loved this dress…”

“I’ll fab you a new one - we’ll click around after this - but we gotta get going,” Rushing Jaws says, thanking his ancestors Eppie is okay but all too aware that they are in a live fire situation and thinking at the speed of MRDRchem. “Are you good to get out of here?”

“I should be… Can you help me up? I’ll feel better once I’m on my feet.”

“I got you,” RJ says, clasping her hand in his before pulling her back to her feet with all speed. “Get out of here, I’ll cover you!!”

She keeps her grasp on his hand, pulling him to her, “You be careful, okay? No messing around. Once everyone is out, you get out.”

“I promise,” Rushing Jaws replies, nodding to her with the resolution of someone dedicated to protecting pod. Any other time, he might be up for a barfight, but right now they are outgunned and sustaining injuries; his biggest concern is getting the squad out and neutralizing the threats to their escape, in that order. There’s still too many threats in play to turn his back on the fight now, and so he has to cover while the squad bails out.

And the biggest threat is the goddamned hand laser on Faith. The crowd has mostly cleared off the floor and Faith is too focused on Devin to see Rushing Jaws coming, who throws the momentum of his charge into a punch that catches her square on the jaw-
-and ends up doing less damage than a hit that big should have, Faith grunting and glancing at him in outrage.

Azathtothwakes {TacNet}: FAITHS A GODDAMNED SYNTH

Knowing she can take way more punishment than the average sape means that Rushing Jaws has to make every strike count; with decades of experience and training guiding his hand and his eye, and with his mind moving faster than Faith’s, he lines up a strike right on her head. Faith tries to dodge, but still unsteadied by her shot on Devin, the blow connects, ruining her synthetic mask and revealing the robotic skull underneath. His second strike is already lined up, Rushing Jaws so full of MRDR and righteous fury that his strike connects with Faith’s torso; ribbons of pain course through his arm, but he feels synthetic mask and metal give way under the force of a blow that surprises even himself. The force of the strike sends Faith falling backward, before she strikes the floor with a heavy thud, utterly still and a look of utter shock locked on her face.

hara{tacnet} hey rj will you marry me

Vidar watches Rj punch a synth into submission with opened mouth confusion- only tearing his eyes away when Mei coreens at him with a knife. Her strike is a wild slash that finds the air between them.

“Do you- Know how to use that?”

He went in close to disarm her, taking her by the wrist and striking her elbow. But she pivots, pulls her knife arm in close to kill his torque and he’s too small to throw his weight around on the matter. They struggle for a moment, Vidar trying to force her hand open, going through a set of basic disarming and counter moves. He sees a cheap opening and smashes her in the mouth with a well placed elbow but she keeps a firm hold on blade.

“Okay- maybe.You. Do.”

He keeps hold of her in their locked grapple for her knife. It wasn’t even a very good knife.

In his moment of frustration it was not hard to acknowledge the mind buzzing beneath Mei’s skin. And part of his attention was already there before he’d made the decision to make contact with her nervous system. It is more cathartic than he will admit to hold the entire contents of an ego’s mind in his metaphorical fist. And how excellent it is to punch a hole through it- the sensation is white hot behind his own eyes as that part of him that is sharper than any knife flicks out- slides through the labyrinth of her mind like a hot monofilament, like touching raw meat, a sound like a crack of thawing ice, a memory without image, and retracts.

Neutralize the most dangerous threat, Rushing Jaws reminds himself, acquiring Mei as the latest target, watching her recoil in pain from no obvious source inflicted by Vidar. That knife makes her the most dangerous threat in play, and so Rushing Jaws throws a haymaker that smashes right into her chest. The blow is enough to send her to the floor, coughing up blood and scrambling to collect herself. Despite a spirited effort to escape, she is not fast enough to avoid the Ax kick that Rushing Jaws brings down on her, and her scream of pain cuts through the M-pop remix of Timber blasting through the club.

Azathothwakes {TacNet}: lets see her hold on to her knife now
Heliotrope{Tacnet}: r u john wick?

Eppie limps to the exit, feeling Weaver follow her like a shadow as she scans the surroundings for her teammates. She spots Devin in a heap on the ground and rushes towards him, going to her knees. She is sure she looks like a nightmare from straining her sleights, but she grabs his arm and wraps it over her shoulder to pull him to his feet. She moves with surprising speed towards the exit, between her body’s weakness from pushing herself too hard and carrying a staggering Devin along, all while wearing heels.

“C’mon, Dev, we’re not here to get fucked up like this, let’s hustle and get the car-”

“Jesus Christ,” Devin says, startling, because Eppie looks like the pinkest avenging angel. “Too late, I’m already fucked up.”

Marcus wished the beat were behind his blows, but he had fightin’ to do, beat or no beat. He grabbed the guard with his Eelware, claws ready to exploit-... Wait shit his eyes rolled back, he was out. They just didn’t make bruisers like they used to. He swore he’d seen flats stay conscious after worse back in the day. So he redirected into a punch at that girl with the knife-... Only for the guard to finally flop over onto him, throwing the swing off and unbalancing the speed fighter for half a second. A miss he might pay for with a knife to the face.

With a mind to getting out of this as clean as possible, Veronica accesses the security sub-network and finds the camera logs. Finding the archived footage is simple - it’s an elegantly constructed network - and with a few commands Veronica is able to expunge the VIP lounge recordings. She is able to catch a clear view of Rushing Jaws’ caving Faith’s chest in over the cameras, and even the recording is enough to give her sympathy pains, given she is also sleeved in a synthmorph.
We’re going to need to kill the cameras, too… Veronica thinks as she encodes the expunge order.
[So it would seem.]
...and find some way of creating a diversion for an escape…
[A prudent course of action.]
...and erase my traces.
[Prudent as well.]
...my kingdom for a multitasking implant.

“This way,” Devin hissed, and tugged at Eppie to the dance floor. It was the straight shot through to the door, and they might be able to use the crowd for cover, but he hadn’t banked on the crowd itself being so much of an obstacle. Usually he was small and fast enough to wiggle through, but he still had to cling to Eppie just to stay upright, and she wasn’t really much better off, and the writhing mass didn’t have the sense to get out of their way. More than one seemed under the impression that he or Eppie wanted to dance with them (given that it was so dark, he couldn’t blame them for not noticing how absolutely fucked the two of them looked), and he had to elbow them aside.
“Fucking Mars,” he grumbled.

Weaver is hot on Eppie’s heels until she and Devin are down the stairs, then hesitates - shaking it off and claws out on the bouncer watching them rush down the stairs. He doesn’t get time to react before she charges him, burying her claws in his stomach and holding them there before he slips and falls to the floor.

Cursing, the guard gets to his feet, his stunner on Weaver and his shot striking home; Weaver convulses with the electroshock, struggling for a second before collapsing to the floor and trembling violently. Guided by the sheer desperate need to survive, he turns his attention to the melee and sees the Fury standing over Mei, leveling his stunner on her-

This isn’t good, Rushing Jaws thinks, counting five mooks, Mei, and Weaver a ticking time bomb he’ll have to get to later. On an impulse, he checks behind him to see her on the floor and a terrified security officer training a stunner on him and firing-

-the electrical tingling on his skin the last thing he is aware of before the world goes white. He spasms violently before hitting the floor of the club with a thud, falling utterly still.

A guard in a red suit armed with a microwave agonizer levels it on Mach, the burning-hot millimeter-wave beam striking through his armor clothing and creating a sensation worse than being burned alive. His blue-suited comrade levels his stunner on Vidar, unaware of a fault in the weapon that causes it to shock him rather than his target. Although he does not collapse, he is visibly trembling from nearly being shocked: he tries to correct for it and hurriedly fire a second attack, but his shot is wide and strikes only a booth, sending up a dramatic shower of sparks.

As his pink-suited comrade rushes by, the purple-suited guard keeps his agonizer at the ready, holding his fire and waiting for either Vidar or Mach to make a move on them before firing.

“Fuck fuck fuck-” Mei utters, swearing a blue streak as she gets up, knife in hand, and rushes to escape Vidar and Mach - stopping only to give the knife to Mr. Blue. She says something to him that is not directly audible over the noise and the music before she ducks into one of the booths, vanishing from sight.

The fight turns south, and wether its 80 years of bar fight experience or the part of his brain that loves churning statics, Vidar figures his chances of winning this thing just got low. Very low. He steps away from the bouncer closest to him, hands up, staggers and- disappears. He goes low and into the crowd, careful not to bump knees or skirts and takes position near a bench along the dance floor out of the way.

Heliotrope{Tacnet}: Okay Plan B.
Heliotrope{Tacnet}: Everyone: RUN RUN RUN
Heliotrope{Tacnet}: Veronica; Fire alarm?
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Heliotrope{Tacnet}: °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Vidar takes a moment, to pluck the spec out of his pocket- he’d nearly forgotten about it and launches the device then cedes the controls to Penny.

So you probably don’t remember, but you get a kick out of this.
[Do I?] the skepticism is sharp. [Oh I do...]
Find Mei, the one with the knife, she’s a loose end that gives me a bad feeling.
[Got it Boss!] the spec shows up in his AR as a large pink bug symbol as it zings north along the booth openings and does a loop de loop. [Wheeee!]
Penny Blease
[ wheeee ]

A bit of subverted code here, some false positives there, and a few brushstrokes to fool the security AI is all Veronica needs to trigger the emergency evacuation protocols and crash this party. It takes her seconds to arrange everything, and with one last warning to the TacNet-
Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: Fire in the hole!!
-she pushes the alert.

In a jarring second, the music stops, and alerts pop up on the screens and on the ceiling of the club, instructing all patrons to evacuate through the nearest available exit. AR directionals point the way to the nearest exit, the club’s security AI - none the wiser to the intrusion - doing its best to split the crowd between the main entrance and all available emergency exits. This does not stop the absolutely unprepared clubbers from mobbing the main exit, security on the main floor near to overwhelmed by the volume of guests attempting to flee through the exit, with no time to question the source of the emergency that Veronica has fabricated.

The rush of people leaving the scene is almost as aggravating as the people too intoxicated to understand that people are actually being killed on the dance floor. Eppie struggles to juggle Devin and drive her elbow into the ribs of people trying to dance at the same time, only for the crowd to get worse as the fire alarm begins to blare, RJ going down too far for her turn back and offer any meaningful assistance, and the last fucking straw is the sprinklers activating and dousing her.

“Y’know what? This is horseshit. Devin, I’m using you as a weapon-“ Before she kicks out his legs and takes him into her arm like he was her brand new husband. As Eppie takes an odd gait that is not quite a speed walk but also not quite a jog, she heads towards the stairs, using Devin’s fancy heeled boots to whack obstacles — and by that she means other clubgoers that didn’t offer her a wide berth just on the basis of her bloodied appearance — obstructing their path to freedom.

Eppie puts Devin on back his feet only as they get outside the club as Eppie shakes off the water from the sprinklers, hiking up her dress a little too high to squeeze some water out of the fabric, “This is bullshit. My makeup took me so fucking long, Devin. I’ve got blood on my dress that’s never going to fucking come out. Did somebody call the car? Because I sure fucking didn’t.”

The night was already so goddamned weird, so Devin decided not to argue with the async while she was carrying him. She might decide to throw him instead. “I did,” he said, when she finally put him down outside.

“Thank fucking Christ. I need a nap. And a drink. But mostly a nap.”

Marcus tried. He tried to struggle through the pain. He couldn’t, and the animal instinct in his brain made him run. He wasn’t even lucid. He didn’t see his comrades running like he did, or register the stunning bolts flying around him. He didn’t even feel the one that hit him. He just kept going until he was outside. That’s when he started to feel like he messed up, like something was wrong. What was wrong? He wasn’t in the car yet, but that wasn’t it. Was it… Someone missing?

Upstairs on the VIP lounge, there are several emergency exits prepared for the VIP guests, who waste no time exiting the lounge in light of both the fight and now the emergency that has broken out. The guard stabbed by Weaver suddenly collapses to the floor, twitching as though paralyzed, and Mach makes his escape down the stairwell despite the best - albeit distracted - efforts of the security officers to stun him. If there is protocol, the guards upstairs do not follow it beyond evacuating the VIP guests that are already up there, quickly turning their attention to the stunned Weaver and Rushing Jaws. Two of them draw bags and cuffs from their pockets, moving fast to restrain Rushing Jaws and Weaver and attach cuffbands to their wrists and ankles as prisoner masks are placed over their heads and the drawstrings secured - Rushing Jaws dropping off TacNet as soon as he is bagged.

Mei is revealed by Penny’s speck bot to be hiding in a booth four up from where Vidar has hidden - and she looks awful. Ugly black splotches are apparent on her morph where she was struck, and her hand trembles from the effect of Vidar’s psychic stab. One of the guards goes to the booth and pulls back the curtain to check on her; none of them seem concerned with the evacuation in progress, two of the guards doing what little they need to direct VIP guests that are already being guided out by AR directionals and their own will to get the hell out of here.

“What the hell is going on??” Mei asks Mr. Red, both oblivious to the fly on the wall listening in.
“Fire or something,” Mr. Red responds.
“How many did we lose??”
“Faith is gone, Denver is critical, we cuffed Weaver after she fuckin hit Mr. Pink with scourge, and Mr. Green is tryin to shake off the shock he got.”
“What about the- what about the other guys? Did we get any more?”
“We think they left. The last one went down the stairs just now. We got one of ‘em cuffed and bagged.”
“Fantastic-” Mei winces, gripping her side.
“You need that looked at?”
“Later,” Mei says, “We got a mess to clean up. Clear the floor and then get the bodies back of house ASAP.”
“You got it,” Mr Red says, leaving Mei to her suffering as her orders are carried out.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

(Ensemble Post, featuring TrashRabbit , wickedlittlecritta , Graystone713 , CelticSol ) ​

As the club grunts continued to not evacuate and continue their business of securing Rj and Weaver, Vidar took his time to scour the floor of the Vip club. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for but he was rewarded with a small orange pill before slipping into the relative security of one of the VIP.
“Well its not a viagra, those are blue,” He muttered to himself before hiding it away in a pocket. Drugs, in the year of our lord 2130 were not his strong suit, but he could wait of the guards taken a drink maybe he could sow some chaos.

hara{tacnet}: [well good news, your current morph doesn't need that one]
Mekhajakumaar: [Is viagra some old-world club drug?]
Heliotrope: [I mean.....Technically?]
hara: [stop lying to children]
hara: [the real question is]
hara:[have you ever had an erection lasting more than 4 hours??]
Heliotrope: [ Have some respect for your elders.]
hara:[make me]
Heliotrope: [you’re the brattiest twink on this fucking planet. Don’t talk to me till you come back with guns. Blocked and reported.]
hara: [hey. hey vidar. unblock me. i have something to tell you.]
Heliotrope: [:/]
hara: [bitch]

Vidar sighed audibly over the tacnet feed. Two could play this game.

Heliotrope: [So what’s up with this grace bitch bullshit?]
hara: [i told you, i failed to stay dead in the fall. we hate each other. you know. normal hypercorp family shit]
Mekhajakumaar: [So you’re what Grace’s unchained id looks like?]
Mekhajakumaar: [This has been… an enlightening evening.]
hara: [i’m not sure about all this freud nonsense, but thank you]
Heliotrope: [Do you wanna tell me about the good ship Used Condom?]
Mekhajakumaar: []
Heliotrope: [Were you going to tell us you were an actual pirate who steals ships and hearts or was I supposed to learn this on mars reddit myself?]
hara: [none of you were going to believe me so what was the point even]
Heliotrope: [ you stole. An. anti matter. Courier.]
Heliotrope: [You’re grounded.]
hara: [BORROWED]
Mekhajakumaar: [NO FUCKING WAY]
Mekhajakumaar: [HOW DID I NOT MAKE THAT CONNECTION???]
Mekhajakumaar: [God, no wonder your name’s all over that part of the mesh!!]
Mekhajakumaar: [The family still hasn’t lived it down, and neither has Grace.]
Mekhajakumaar: [Holy shit dudeeee]
hara: [they’re lucky phil was boring as fuck, otherwise i might have kept him]
Heliotrope: [Well. Faith knew you were here. And presumably who ever she pinged about it. So that’s. G R E A T.]
hara: [I TOLD YOU MARS WAS A BAD IDEA]
hara: [BUT LIKE CASSANDRA I AM IGNORED]
Heliotrope: [I know your like 12 years old but actions have consequences and I’m sorry you had to find out like this.]
jukeboxmaiden: [if they recognized devin, then theyre gonna recognize me. i am,,,, pink. bright pink. distinctly pink.]
hara: [yeah, but have you shamed 2 seperate hypercorp families?]
Heliotrope: [I know this about you, Eppie, and I love you.]
Mekhajakumaar: [Eppie, I’m not even sure you have a CivicNet profile? I can’t find it and usually it’s a breeze to look someone up by their rep.]
Mekhajakumaar: [What a colorful crew our server has put together!]
Mekhajakumaar: [Oh, while you’re making a run for the gear, can someone please grab me an SMG? I’m hoping I won’t need it but missions aren’t completed on hopes.]

The car was, thankfully, still all in one piece, and Devin crawled in and started removing guns from where everyone had hidden them under seats, passing them to Eppie and Mach carefully. He loaded Vidar’s wasp knife and vibroblade on himself even more carefully.

Mach took his pulser with a pronounced frown. He’d have to shoot his way into rescuing the actual fighter. Mach could definitely fight, yeah. He fought Rob. He killed lotsa little robs back in the day. He helped kill plenty of big ones, too. But this was fighting an enemy triad on their own turf. Even with knife dad stealthed on the inside, it was hard not to be nervous. Speaking of Knife dads…
Sleipnir: [Almost 100% sure that’s Kick. Which is the LAST THING you wanna take on a stealth mission. Like, taking it before a fight makes a little sense, but you won’t be able to stay subtle with that running in you.]
Heliotrope: [are you telling me this is future-coke.]
Sleipnir: [You mean the soda that made Santa wear Red?]
Heliotrope: [,,,,]
Heliotrope: [,,,,]
Heliotrope: [No. but you know what. Nevermind. Thanks for the ID!]
Sleipnir: [But yeah it’s a lot like Cocaine.]
Heliotrope: [Fuckin score]

Meanwhile, in another chat, Mach was asking who specifically he might be going up against. Specifically asking a pal from the Blitzer community, someone who relied on a lot of… ‘refurbished parts’ to keep their two racing morphs in the top of their speed class. They were rich, rude, and fun sometimes, but they had a lot of ins in the criminal community without picking sides. And Lupercalia was their kinda club.

Dai/Ja/Vu{Guanxi}: [Need a hand with something, Lou. Still know everyone worth knowing?]
Dirtygoldenthing: [Why now, dude? I’m making moves at this party! They’re into it!]
Dai/Ja/Vu: [Jeez, I figured you of all people would know that Lupercalia club.]
Dirtygoldenthing: [Yeah, but the fuck are you doing at a Night Cartel club?]
Dai/Ja/Vu: [I had to meet some people, wondered if the owner was worth knowing.]
Dirtygoldenthing: [Uh. So you’re not in trouble?]
Dai/Ja/Vu: [What’s that supposed to mean?]
Dirtygoldenthing: [So. I know the owner pretty well.]
Dai/Ja/Vu: [... Do I wanna ask?]
Dirtygoldenthing: [something happened, and there’s goons on the way there now. Uplift gone crazy, apparently?]
Dai/Ja/Vu: [okay not asking questions, get back to… Well. What you probably get up to back on your barge, I’d guess.]
Dirtygoldenthing: [Too late, my chance got ruined. I don’t know if you’re the one those goons’ll be shooting… but if you are, you’re gonna get shot bad. Actually feel vaguely sorry?]
Dai/Ja/Vu: [Doubt it, gotta go.]

Then, Mach flipped back to Tacnet.

Sleipnir{Tacnet}: [Guys, we’ve got company inbound.]
Sleipnir: [Given that I just confirmed Lupercalia as a Night Cartel establishment, they won’t be merciful. I should drive.]

Can’t stay stuck to this table, Veronica thinks to herself, feeling like a sitting duck in this booth. Transferring herself onto a wireless connection to a hacked network from a wired one takes the finesse of someone walking a tightrope, and it is something she does with extreme care and caution. By a stroke of luck, Veronica finds a way to keep herself connected without having to bypass security all over again, fistpumping to herself as she deactivates her skinlink and pulling her hand away from the table while maintaining her network access. She does not leave the booth yet, however, not wanting to break cover while the goons are up to no good.

“Yo Red, give me a hand with this,” Mr. Blue calls to his associate, on his knees and working to treat the broken-armed ganger; Mr. Red rushes to his side, following his instructions to bandage Denver’s wounds and stabilize their condition. Mr. Pink and Mr Orange, make sure Weaver and Rushing Jaws are cuffed and bagged as best as their trembling hands can manage, assisted by Mr. Purple, who also searches for something on Weaver’s person.

“Who the fuck-” Weaver rasps.
“Shut the fuck up,” Purple responds.
“What the fuck is going on??”
“I said shut the fuck up.”
“Fucking- get me out of these things!!” Weaver demands.
“No way Weaver, not before we know who you’re really playin’ for.”
At this, Weaver seems to stop.
“What?”
“Don’t fuckin play dumb,” Purple responds with heavy contempt. “Where you keepin the fucken antidote?”
“Antidote?”
“The scourge antidote, Weaver!!”
“What- what’s going on??”
“You dosed one of my guys, that’s what the fuck is going on,” Mei says, stepping out from the booth, gripping her side; even from afar, she looks to be in terrible pain, walking with a limp and her bruises blackening.
“M-mei? What- what the fuck happened??”
“They got away, Weaver, all but one - and you helped them,” Mei answers.
“N-no, Mei, I- that- that wasn’t me??” Weaver tries to explain, bewilderment clear in her voice. “I went after the one that hurt Denver, and then…”
“Then you fucking gutted Denver and dosed Mr. Green with the scourge you should have hit the pink one with,” Mei snarls.
Weaver falls silent, no longer straining against her cuffbands. “I… she needed me to defend her…?”
“Where’s the antidote, Weaver?”
Weaver doesn’t respond.
“Give us the antidote or you’ll have to fucking explain to Val while you turned on your own crew!!”
“Okay, okay- my stomach, skin pocket.”
“Fucking lovely-” Mei says, limping over to Weaver and crouching down to roll her over. Weaver suffers the indignity of Mei getting the antidote from her skin pocket in silence; Mei doesn’t take longer than she has to, withdrawing a small kit containing a pre-loaded vial of antidote.
“Get this to Green,” Mei says to Mr. Purple. “Pink, Orange, get Faith and her murderer downstairs. Backup’ll be here soon, we gotta clean this up now.”
Mr. Pink and Mr. Orange waste no time in carrying out her orders, the former collecting the wreckage of Faith’s morph and the latter scooping up the inert Rushing Jaws before turning to head to the north elevator.

As Tali slid her fingers along the car's shiny surface she noticed Devin handing out weapons. Her eyes went wide, and she let out a quiet squee. Jumping onto the roof of the car nimbly, she squat-planted herself on the edge right near Devin. Giving him a solid salute with her right hand, she quirked her head a slight tilt.
[Sparrow (voice of Cary Elwes)]: Hello all! So nice to be on the team! Tali would like to know the plan of attack. We were unfortunately unlucky in finding good access points and escape routes. Not used to being in the city.
Tali gives a simple nod, her gaze never lifting from the 'shinies' Devin was divying up.

Devin started at Tali’s approach, but the i-rep profile and the chipper voice of the Dread Pirate Roberts assured him that for once, the weird thing was on their side. “Good to meet you, Wesley,” he said, and started to say more when he heard noise down the main roadway. He glanced over, and then made a face and finished hiding his pistol under his coat.

hara[TacNet]: we got cops at the front. i don’t think they’ve seen us, stay chill
hara[TacNet]: this puts a wrench in the works, i’d say
Heliotrope[Tacnet] Okay. cool cool. C o p s. Got it. Maybe they can be the distraction and we won't have to let Dai smash a car through a wall.
Heliotrope{tacnet]: Hi. Tali, welcome to hell with us; you happen to know any Khadijahs, Emilios or [insert whats his names]? I’m not trying to say I think all zone stalkers know eachother but a guy can dream.

Heliotrope[Pm to hara]: what am I supposed to do when 30-40 wild hogs come into my Lupercalia club while my kids are dancing and I don’t have a AR-15?!?!
hara[pm to heliotrope]: you call in your scum friend who is too small to hold all of these guns but is doing his best
jukeboxmaiden:

Spoiler

[image] https://i.imgflip.com/2wr5ip.png [/image]

Eppie grabs her submachine gun by it’s strap and hauls it over her shoulder, making absolutely no effort to conceal the weapon. Smoothing her hair back and adjusting her top to be a little more modest, she turns about face with her shoulders squared and marches directly up to the newly arrived officers with a storm in her expression.

The thing is, while Elias has done well for himself being a criminal, he takes after their father. While Sam is a strategic mind, and as is Elias, he is a soldier through and through. But Angie Cross is more a force of nature than a person, and she’s carved a name for herself in Europa on the basis of taking no shit and taking no prisoners when it comes to bureaucratic nonsense. She is a leader, with a bulletproof backbone and a glare that could burn a man into ash.

So as Eppie approaches the cops, she channels her mother’s unwavering resilience. She squares her shoulders, sets her jaw, and thinks murder, and her expression parts the crowd of club-goers like Moses parted the Red Sea. The officers observe her with cold calculation, and she can see the words to turn her away from their Official Police Business forming on their tongue when she hits them with a tone her family colloquially calls the Angie “Goddamned” Cross Voice.

“It took you long enough to show up, Officers,” She snaps, “Here’s the deal. I’m Sergeant Ramirez. Myself and the crew gathered by that car—” She points out her fellow sentinels, “— are undercover. We’ve been scoping out clubs in the area for Cartel activity and our sting for Lupercalia was tonight. A rookie on the team really fucked the couch and blew ourc cover, and now one of our men is trapped inside with the Cartel. You are going to back us up and we enter to round up the Cartel members and get our comrade out of there. We clear?”

Eppie’s bold entrance has interrupted a tense conversation between four officers of the Elysium People’s Militia and a transhuman in a purple-and-white suit with gold accents, the latter flanked by Hector and Gao - the pair of bouncers still as statues. All parties are shocked and bewildered by the intrusion of a very pink and very armed clubber into their conversation, none daring to interrupt as she speaks. There is even a moment of silence as they process what they’ve been told, a few checking entoptics or just taking in what Eppie has said without challenging it.

“Officers, please,” the besuited one - who’s AR nametag lists as Flavius Festivus, the manager of Lupercalia - begins to say, with a voice just laying the charm on thick. “Lupercalia is a perfectly legitimate establishment-“
“Understood, ma’am,” one of the officers - one Corporal Leng Xidao - says, cutting off Flavius with a forceful tone. “We’ll report Cartel activity and call for backup.”
“Now wait a minute!” Flavius demands. “Why were we not contacted ahead of this??”
“It’s a sting sir, that’s the point,” the officer responds.
“What- how dare you?? You have no right to search the premises or conduct a sting like this-”
“I’m going to need you to calm down, sir,” Xidao warns, his tone hard. “If your establishment is in compliance, you have nothing to worry about: consider us exterminators.”
“I’m calm, I just don’t see the need for all of this,” Flavius counters. “You’re here because of a fire alarm that must have triggered by mistake and she’s here because her and her pack got in a barfight with the wrong people and made an utter mess of a perfectly legitimate establishment. This isn’t Palembang where you can go kicking in doors as you like-”
“We’re not kicking in doors right now,” Leng cuts him off again, having let the fast talker dig his own grave some. “We’re standing by for her orders.”

Heliotrope{Tacnet}: [EPPIE I FUCKING LOVE YOU.]
Sleipnir: [How in the FUCK did you pull that?... How in the fuck are we supposed to keep that lie up?]
Heliotrope{tacnet}: Act natural. Keep your mouth shut. Nod when appropriate. Get Tali off the car.
hara[tacnet]: GOD that was HOT

Inside the club, Mei swears after reading something on her entoptics.
“Get them into the elevator now,” she snarls, limping alongside the two that bring Rushing Jaws and a still-resistant Weaver to the car that opens for them - and Vidar’s speck drones. Following them up are two more tasked with carrying the wreckage of Faith’s morph and Denver’s unconscious body, while Mr. Purple helps Mr. Green up from the floor, the latter still trembling as the scourge antidote works to neutralize the toxin still affecting him.

jukeboxmaiden {TacNet}: [this is the sort of positive energy i need in my life i love yall]

On the outside, Eppie stays calm, cool, and collected. She is (what she imagines) is the spitting image of Lady In Charge. On the inside, she is trembling with nerves, adrenaline, and worry — with her luck, the entire charade will crumble into dust and the whole mission will be a failure. Something might explode.

She regards the manager with a stern glare, already foreseeing him to be a problem for her crew in rescuing RJ. She turning it over in her mind on how to get him out of the situation when she realizes that the instant belief in her lie… They likely think she is oversight. And if she knows anything about the absolute hellscape that is Mars, specifically Elysium City, is that the list of thing Oversight can get away with miles and miles long.

“Leng? Cuff Mr. Festivus and take him to the station for obstruction of justice.”

“What? You can’t be serious- what do you take me for??” Flavius snarls at Eppie. “This is Chinatown, there’s going to be consequences for this-”
“By order of Oversight, I’m placing you under arrest for obstruction of justice,” Leng Xidao says to Flavius with a tone that brooks no argument and the faintest smirk on his face.
“How dare you?? I’m not obstructing anything-” Flavius begins to protest, the words dying on his throat as Xidao’s partner, Lin Ju, proceeds to read him his rights.
“You have the right to remain silent…” Ju begins reciting the modern equivalent of his Miranda rights, cuffing him and walking him to the squad car as Xidao watches. Flavius does not actively resist arrest but glares back at Eppie before Ju slips a prisoner mask over his head and deposits him in the back of the flying car. He returns and joins Xidao with the two other cops on site.

“Yao, Zi, maintain the perimeter and coordinate with emergency services until backup arrives. Secure the area while Lin and I back up our Oversight comrades,” Xidao orders. Turning to Eppie, Xidao asks: “What are we looking at in there?”

Meanwhile, visible on both club camera feeds and by vidar’s speck drones, Mei and her squad of club guards have taken the elevator downstairs to the club’s back-of-house area. Without prompting, they unload the bodies off the elevator before turning to Mei for instruction. Mei checks something on her entoptics, then-
”Fuck,” she snarls.
“What??”
“Flav’s been arrested.”
“What??”
“These motherfuckers have been undercover cops the whole time - Fuck.”
“What do we do??”
“We dig in and wait for backup, that’s what,” Mei says, clearly unprepared for the leadership role that’s been thrust upon her and thinking on her feet.
“Does that mean this motherfucker’s a cop?” Mr. Red asks, pointing his weapon at Rushing Jaws.
“Yep,” Mei says.
Mr. Red takes the cue to drop Rushing Jaws on the floor and kick him in the gut; Rushing Jaws does not visibly respond, simply lying on the floor as Red dropped him.
“Piece of shit,” Mr Red curses. “Still out cold.”
“Maybe Weaver’s feeling a little more talkative?” Mr. Blue asks, Weaver still slung over his shoulder, having been silent since the elevator.
“...Weaver?” Mei calls, turning her name into an accusation.
“Mei, what the fuck,” Weaver replies. “I don’t know what happened up there or what you heard but I swear I’m not a fucking cop.”
“Sounds like something an undercover cop would say,” Mei snarls. “Get ‘em to the garage. We’ll hold out there till our backup arrives - and see what Weaver knows about all this shit.”

I’m gonna pay that motherfucker back with interest for that fucken cheap shot, Rushing Jaws swears to himself, MRDR and training having saved him from being exposed as conscious by that kick. Māzû, you getting anything?
[Negative. We’re jammed.]
Fuck. Let’s hope rescue gets here before backup does.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

Veronica Jhadav
(Guest Starring TrashRabbit )​

With a rough plan worked out - flush them out of the garage to facilitate a rescue - Veronica returns her attention to Lupercalia's network, ready to sew some chaos. First, she takes a peek inside the garage to assess the situation...

"Mei, please, I swear I don't know any thing-"
"Again," Mei commands: one of the bouncers kicks Weaver in the gut again, causing her to grunt and wheeze in pain.
"What happened, Weaver? Because right now the evidence is not in your favor," Mei demands.
"Mei, I promise-"
"Again."
Kick.
"Mei..."
"I watched you fucking gut Denver and then dose one of ours with scourge, Weaver."
“That wasn’t- that wasn’t me-“
“Again.”
Kick.

Veronica doesn’t exactly feel sorry that the Cartel thugs are turning on each other, but she gets the feeling Weaver can only take so much before they turn their attention to Rushing Jaws, and is quick to connect several previously separate sub-networks in order to pull this plan off. She finds the lights, the speaker system inside the garage, door controls, and ties them all to a digital ripchord she can pull as soon as she’s ready.

Heliotrope{tacnet}: Hey veronica, can you put running in the 90s on in the garage?
Heliotrope: lets let RJ know we’re coming okay
Mekhajakumaar: I’m sure I can, if you tell me what that means.
Heliotrope: its a song.
Heliotrope: long story.
Mekhajakumaar: Oh!
Mekhajakumaar: Actually!
Mekhajakumaar: It looks like they have that one in their music library!
Heliotrope: its in vogue and i have no idea why
Mekhajakumaar: everything old is new again?
Mekhajakumaar: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Heliotrope: if cat ears come back i’m going into cold storage till they are gone.

Veronica chuckles to herself as she queues up classic eurobeat jam Running in the 90s to play at extreme volume over the garage’s PA system. With everything in place, she tunes in over the cameras one last time...

“Listen to me!!” Weaver screams through a constricted throat, having been kicked well past any need for such brutality.
“Ready to talk?” Mei asks.
“The pink one...” Weaver wheezes, “she fucking- she did something to me... put some fucking thing in my mind...”
Mei doesn’t look impressed with her explanation, but neither does she have Weaver kicked again.
“Mei... she fucking... she drugged me, she did something, I don’t fucking know, it was weird, but she yelled something at me and all I wanted to do was protect her Mei you gotta believe me!!”
Mei scowls at Weaver, likely thinking on whether or not she believes Weaver.

Veronica pulls the ripchord before Mei can come to a conclusion either way.

Rushing Jaws​

Rushing Jaws can’t see anything with the prisoner mask on, but the reaction of everyone else inside the garage tells him what he needs to know:

“What the fuck??”
“Who killed the lights??”
“Is it them??”
“Fuck, they’re back.”
“Shut up. Fan out-“

The rest of Mei’s instructions are drowned out by the sudden blaring of Running in the 90s, loud enough to make Rushing Jaws’ teeth vibrate and blast the PA speakers. He can’t hear anything other than eurobeat, removing his one interface with the world given he is also blind and jammed. Knowing well how cuffbands work, Rushing Jaws is not about to try breaking them off: even if he succeeded, they would know, and he is well out of position for such an attempt.

Instead, grinning to himself, he braces.

Looks like rescue got here first.

 

[TrashRabbit]

Eppie entered the club with two cops and Devin trailing her. He did not so much lower his camouflage but made himself obvious, not wanting the cops get anything more on him than he could avoid.
"So, yes these are knives in my pockets," Devin said passing him his smg and pulling the two knives out of his inner pockets, "but I'm also happy to see you."
"I don't have a good come back for that right now, but like give me an hour," he said. Listening in on Weaver tell her tale of her close encounter of the Async kind and it pushed his understanding of the stakes up a little higher. He gave Eppie a nod, the kind usually reserved for fellow goblins, or the other detectives he had worked with and then vanished again.
Heliotrope: [I'm gonna go in, see if I can flush them out]
He snuck out into the hall and hit the lights, so that when he opened the door to the garage there would be no halo of light. The music was loud before he slipped in and for a moment he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to find his ideal target in the dark and the loud. But in the dim, Mei's shoes were light ups, with trendy blue stars lighting up as she stepped back from weaver who was illuminated in dim blue on the floor. He stepped in carefully, the mooks looking around and fanning out ineffectively on Mei's command.
He flipped the blade around in his hand. He had some options. He flipped the other knife around in his other hand. He came in behind her and took two quick steps to build momentum, brought both knives up into her back, forcing her up on tip toe, and then off her feet- his moprh was small but he still had plenty of strength to hold her there for a moment while she thrashed and then twist the knives as he twisted his core to dump her on the floor.
Her scream lit up the room with terrified shouts and he crouched low, if they opened fire on each other it would be a delightful comedy of errors.
Heliotrope: [Mei's dead : ) ]

 

[ValtheStarGal]

The scream tells Rushing Jaws everything that he needs to know. He can feel the MRDR in his veins rising with the stench of blood, the will to fight - to break these cuffbands and join in. For him to inflict the most damage, however, he knows the timing has to be just right. Even if he succeeds in breaking the bands, he's still on the floor, and they're still able to knock him down just like last time. If they're distracted, though... rather than risk overplaying his hand, he chooses to wait.

Officer Lin Ju, however, chooses action.

Drawing a rail pistol from his belt, he rushes into position by a nearby door to the garage. Raising his pistol, the first target he sights in on is a man in a pink suit - who doesn't waste a second in throwing himself back into the darkness, high-velocity rail pistol rounds grazing him and slamming into the wall behind him as the garage devolves into chaos.

 

[TrashRabbit]

Vidar stays low as he moves over to RJ, doesn't bother to try and shout anything over the music as he pulls the prisoner hood off of him, and tucked it over his hands to block the signal of the cuffs being cut. There is a practiced motion to vidar's hands, and he moves quick to pull the same trick on his feet.
Heliotrop{Pm to azorothwakes}: If you can walk we are headed north and then east. Machs got the car out back.
Heliotrope{tacnet}: RJ secured. Send in cop number two in and then let them eat each other. Lets fucking book it.
on second thought he does not pass RJ his SMG like he planned to- because letting hte cartell and hte cops have at it while they slipped away was very much his style and the thought of trying to get RJ to disengage with dark room of scared squishy cartel folk once he initiated wasn't one he wanted right now.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

With two doors left open and no way of knowing what these mooks were about to do, Veronica's tactical decision is to ready the submachine gun given to her by Devin and find a position she can be ready to shoot down any retreating or fleeing thugs. She breaks left of Officer Ju down the hallway, throwing herself against the corner and keeping an eye both on the camera feeds and her immediate environment, ready for developments that require her attention on either side.

Mekhajakumaar {TacNet}: Let's get you two out of there first - I'll lock down the doors once you're free.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

(Guest Starring TrashRabbit )​

“FUCK-” Mr. Red curses as shots start flying, making for the north door and forcing it up before throwing himself around cover, drawing his stunner for a hasty shot on the shimmering shape that he can just barely make out in the darkness and chaos breaking out in the garage. Fearing for his life, knowing that he could be next, he fires-

“Okay lets-” Vidar says, bag of cut cuffs in hand as he just slumps right into RJ.

“Fuck-” Rushing Jaws curses, catching Vidar before he even hits the floor and doing his best to compensate for the convulsions his comrade is suffering, just as he suffered in the VIP lounge. He sees an open door, light spilling out into the dark garage, and with no other thought in his mind than escape makes a break for it. He doesn’t stop running until he is in the hallway, where a cop has taken up a firing position.

Māzǔpó, get us back on TacNet ASAP.
[Syncing with Brumaro now, stand by.]

Mr. Green, in stark contrast to Mr. Red, suffers a failure of willpower in the face of gunshots and stabbings: he makes a break for a tool storage locker and shuts himself in behind it, doing everything he can to protect himself from the chaos.

Corporal Leng Xidao rushes to take position opposite his partner, aiming into the darkened garage with his own flashlight-equipped rail pistol at Green-
-the weapon in his hand vibrating violently as it shorts out, the bullet falling harmlessly down its rails to the floor with a clink. Swearing under his breath, he hides behind the wall and begins working to reset his pistol.

Mr. Blue watches Mr. Green flee the field, and draws his own microwave agonizer as he breaks for cover, no panic and all resolve to be seen. He draws a bead on Corporal Xidao, firing on the officer twice-
-and missing, Xidao able to shimmy out of his shot, the agonizer’s burning beam striking the wall behind him and superheating it - Xidao swearing as the wall behind him heats up but doing no real damage or effect to him.

 

[CelticSol]

Euphemia ‘Eppie’ Cross​

Eppie is not a fighter. She can shoot a gun and it can hit it’s target most of the time, but once that gun is out of her hands, she is just about useless. Their main combatant is tied up inside the club, and arming him is far more important than just about anything she can consider, so before the police form around the club doors, Eppie returns to the weapon filled car. She spots a machine gun about half the size of her entire body, and smiles despite herself, knowing without ever having seen him hold it that it belongs to RJ.

It takes a bit of groaning and strain, but she manages to haul the weapon out of the trunk and pull the strap around her body. She wobbles from the weight, adjusting to it’s weight on her body for a moment before she jogs to the officers. They look to her expectantly, and she hisses to them lowly, “We got seven hostiles inside, but along with my team and the man inside, we’re even, and we outgun them. Keep it quick and keep it clean, officers.”

They nod to her before they force the door open and rush into the darkened garage, Eppie’s ribs rattling with the bass of the music she bets Veronica hacked the sound system to play. Eppie holds a few moments as gunfire starts firing off, knowing she’ll get in the way if she runs into the fray too quickly. She hears RJ swear, loud but close, and she peers around the corner to see RJ dragging a seizing Vidar behind a wall for cover.

She splits from her own cover and runs to them, hauling RJ’s weapon off her shoulder as she crouches down at her side, “Welcome back!” She shouts, shoving his weapon in his hands, “Are you hurt at all?”

“Oh, thank the fucking ancestors-” Rushing Jaws blurts, his face lighting up to see Eppie not only alive and well, but having brought no less than his machine gun and even some spare magazine to give to him. His training and deep-seated combat instincts have to vie with a powerful desire to scoop Eppie off the ground and spin her around, nuzzling her all the while in gratitude. He happily takes the machine gun from her, and even begins to open his arms to scoop her up - the swearing of Corporal Xidao serving to remind him that they are all very much still in danger.

“I’m fine,” Rushing Jaws replies with all the confidence he can muster to reassure Eppie, snapping back into focus. He has no physical wounds, and has recovered from being knocked out by his own brush with a stunner, but his eyes are bloodshot and there is some excess tension in his arms and face. He is grinning to have some real firepower to bring to bear now, but doesn’t let that distract him from the fact that they have a downed teammate, helping Vidar onto the floor where he can ride out the worst of the stunner’s effect: “Vidar took a stunner bolt for me though, he’s seizing up here - give him some distance.”

Eppie’s eyes flick to the downed Vidar, wincing to see him spasm so painfully on the floor. The song of the Star, even against the teeth chattering bass of the club, is deafening, vibrating within her down to her bones, growing louder as she watches the difficult sight of Vidar seizing. She crouches to her knees by Vidar, fighting against the erratic movements of his seizure only to try and arrange him into recovery position on his side to keep his airways open in case he vomits.

She brushes his hand a moment when an idea strikes her like lightning.

[Euphemia,] Sézé growls sharply, the sound less like the human form she mimics and more like something feral. The song of the Star and it’s chorus falters in it’s tune, notes of confusion, fear, even anger warbling in the harmonies. [You know the limits He offers you, Euphemia. You will only draw the ire of the Star if you dare push them.]

I’m not a combatant. Vidar is. We’re currently in a firefight, and if I can shoulder the pain instead, Vidar can get back on his feet and get us out safely. I can’t do that.

[You squander the gifts the Star has granted you, Euphemia. He blesses you with such great power, and you waste it trying to alleviate the deserved wound of some lowly human —]

Can you at least make an effort to try and pretend to be my actual fucking muse? That would be sick, thanks, Eppie snaps mentally, which cuts both Sézé’s tirade to a screeching halt and ending the song of the Star, it’s last notes a hush of nervousness. It’s almost spoken word — whispers in alien tongues, nervous, worried, terrified. Anguished, even furious notes spreads among the choir like spark catching light.

“Vidar, I hope this works,” She says, and places her fingertips on Vidar’s cheek to link their minds together.

The pain she can hear in Vidar’s thoughts is blinding. She almost yanks her hand away, but she grits her teeth and bears through it, knowing it’s only going to get worse from here. She sucks in a breath through her teeth, closing her eyes, forcing the connection of their minds closer, closer, until her skin tingles, until her hands start to tremble —

The Star screams.

Eppie herself cries out, one of her hands flying up to cup at her ear as if it could cover the sound of the Star’s earth shattering howl, it’s rage so potent she can almost feel it rip at her very soul for breaking the bounds of the psi-abilities it has given to her, but she holds fast to Vidar and her connection to him. She holds his face tight in her hand, refusing to let go, even as it feels like the Star’s piercing cry and Vidar’s pain, growing worse and worse every second, is set to rip her in two.

She eyes roll back a moment, and the largest of the sets of eyes in the sky of her visions, once far, far away, millions and millions of light years away, is now close enough to touch.

Tendrils lock tight around her throat, her wrists, as if to pull her from Vidar. The Star’s screaming is thunderous, sinister, and the cacophony of the choir trying to match it’s rage makes it into a horrible eldritch refrain. “I had to save him!” She chokes out, pulling against the binds of the Star to try and pull the tightening restrains from her throat. She does what she can to force air into her lungs, repeating her purpose with more and more willpower, “I had to save him! I had to save him! I had—”

She takes in a sharp inhale as the force on her neck disappears, as do the tendrils on her wrists, and Eppie collapses on her floor by Vidar, keeping her hands on him as she gulps air back into her lungs. She only has a moment to soothe the burning in her lungs before Vidar’s pain hits her like a truck and she makes a strangled scream as the shocks pass from Vidar claim her, jaw locking too tight to make a sound.

They release her after what seems like an eternity, but was only a few moments, but they leave Eppie too weak to even stand, muscles both locking up and relaxing and making it impossible to reclaim any semblance of coordination. She tries to force herself up, but her arms shake and tremble with shocks. She reaches a hand out and clutches Vidar’s puffy windbreaker, “Vidar,” She says between clenched teeth, afraid she will bite off her own tongue, “Viddy, are you okay?”

 

[TrashRabbit]

Vidar Kryssvinds​

Not in on hundred years of wild living had Vidar P. Kryssvinds gotten himself tased. And boy, could he have done without it. His pain tolerance wasn't what it used to be and he didn't even register falling, or RJ grabbing him, or Eppie. His brain was occupied with the white noise of pain, until Eppie made contact. Her mind buzzed behind her skin and her skull like anyone's did, and then her thoughts her feelings; just unfiltered Euphemia splayed out before him with an intimacy that would have taken him by surprise under better circumstances, his connection with with others neurology felt mechanical and surgical by comparison.

And then the unfathomably data surge behind Eppies mind is a wall of data so thick and intricate, that it drowns out the pain, holds all his attention. The complexity makes him work, like straining to hear but with the part of himself that devoured numbers with a tangible crunch. It is more than he could get his teeth around, more than he could ever possibly decrypt and listening to it is a thousand times hotter and hundred times worse than any map. The map zone was becoming larger and larger inside him until it was an inescapable process of his being, sorting and understanding that terrible churning tonal cacophony rising and rising until it was a roar. And for a moment in the face of what could not be rendered or interpreted, he felt the full bulk of his chimeric totality- a squiggly mass fused like a rotting figure head to something much more elegant- before being replaced with running in the nineties and the sound of his own keening.

The pain and the spasm had left him, he existed in physical space, his lungs sucked in air and he possessed an inner monologue again and a human range of emotion; including quite a lot of fear. He heard Eppie's question through her clenched teeth, and having not yet reassessed his situation turned to grab her, like he had some hope of saving her from the map zone or pain with his hands.

“Still dead,” He said with feeling, watching her shake and seize. His mind finally told him what he wanted. He had been tased. Just as he had shouldered a bit of strain on her behalf before, she now took the eternity of his. “What did you- how did you-” He stammered feeling feral and claustrophobic in his own skin. She was really in no shape to expect an answer as she rode out the neurological storm she'd stolen from him. “Shit, Just-just ride it out Pink. Just ride it, it'll pass, okay, you're okay,” he said, holding on to the arm she clutched his wind breaker with. As much as sharing her strain earlier had unnerved him it unsettled him more now to see her take his, the mere concept on a emotional level rattling around in side of him like a pebble in a sticky empty soda can. Hollowed at the reality of it.

[RJ has a machine gun. Mach and veronica have the exit strategy secure.] Peny added helpfully. He felt like he'd been hit by a mack truck and even the martian gravity felt oppressive. He looked at RJ and made no effort to hide his confusion and fear as shots and shouts from an operation he'd lost track of continued onward along with the rest of linear time.

 

[Faelinara]

In the midst of the chaos Tali's focus centered. Taking in every bit of the current situation, she ran through the alley, her full strength going into her legs. leaping over a trash can with ease and screeching to a halt at her destination, she gazed down the 'barrel' of her bow, locked and loaded. All she needed was the trigger moment, and the safety of her teammates.

 

[ValtheStarGal]

“GOD DAMN IT-“ Screams Mr. Pink amid a hail of gunfire and screaming, following Mr. Green into the cover provided by the tool storage room. He yelps as the rail round meant for Green screams past him, his frantic panting drowned out by the blaring of Running in the 90s.

“GET BACK HERE-“ Mr. Orange shouts, snarling a curse after Pink.
“WE GOTTA MOVE,” Mr. Purple shouts, firing a beam from his agonizer at Ju and missing.
“GET ME OUT OF HERE,” Weaver yells at the top of her lungs, stopping them both short for an instant; “THE OTHERS ARE GONE, YOU NEED ME IF YOU WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE.”
Another stray bullet compels them to make their decision quickly: the cuffbands on Weaver’s arms and legs silently fall away - Weaver removing her prisoner mask as quickly as possible, her expression that of someone ready to kill.

“GO,” Weaver shouts to the two of them; Orange rushes for cover around the freight door, Purple following suit - all the while turning his agonizer on Ju again, his resolve steeled and his shot true. Ju screams as the beam sears him through his armor, and he breaks cover to flee down the hallway and gripping onto the grisly shoulder wound stinking of seared clothing and burned flesh; Mr Purple is behind cover before anyone can do the same to him.

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

The fun thing about the Firewall squad was that sometimes they let him go last. With the fucklings, sometimes it was "hey Devin, go touch that weird thing and see what happens," and usually the answer was, "nothing good Cris!!". Today he got to hide behind a door and wait until everyone else was busy before slipping out and over to the rest of the crew, where Eppie was busy doing...something spooky.

"God, nobody needs to be carried, right? I'm a hundred pounds soaking wet, I can't help." He paused, looked down at his morph, and said, "Well, a hundred-fifty in this morph, but the point still stands."