Cosmic_Chaos
Turning into Chaos Incarnate, don't mind me
-
Aria Renean
I am a Master at Parkour! Don't underestimate me!
Aria Looked up in slight shock. So she was in the right place! Haha! she wasn't stupid! Bolting up, but almost loosing her balance very quickly, she steadied herself and smiled at the male before walking in. She looked over to the woman at the desk, and Aria was stunned for a moment. Shit this girl was... stupidly pretty. Her body kicked into auto, and saluted, like they showed her in training. "Trainee Aria Renean. The Emperor informed me that I was to be your squire for your next trip." She said formally, and steadily. Well, over the entire situation she was in, thats what she assumed.
"I was told to report to you, and that you would be already informed of my arrival." She said, but that was more uncertain at the end, because the way that the lady looked... it seemed like she was just about to relax. Was she not meant to come until later? "My apologies is I also seem a bit out of it. The Emperor had me running errands last night, and I had only gotten around three hours sleep." she apologised. It was best to forewarn her if she was going to be talking to her for a while. "Would you like to have my trainer's ID, so you can get background details? I believe that is the standard when working, or having someone work for you." Aria said, and Aria felt as if she had said enough.
NUSKI
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
To:
Elowyn
Bang Bang
Rainzen
RE: OCTAVIUS AU LOCKE
Location: Prometheus Laboratory.
Bureau Notes: Well, that was.. uneventful...
Classified
Suspicious. It was entirely suspicious. Octavius had been a fool to simply waltz in here and expect to run the show. It was a failure on his end. And now he was being watched.
Listening to the Mr.'s monologue, he didn't dare interrupt. The Blind Bureau wasn't one to mess around with. If there was one fear Octavius had, it was that the Blind Bureau would tear him down before he could tear it down. By all means, they more than likely already had all the information they needed to have him removed from power, or worse, executed. As far as he knew, there was no way to combat them. And when the Blind Bureau took an interest in you... you prayed they didn't hold it for long.
With a sigh, he looked to au Steele, and then Lyn. Stetting his Razor back on his belt, he followed the Mr. to the exit. "And what of this 'truth' you promised? When will we know of it?"
Bang Bang
what can I say except
To:
Noivian
Elowyn
Rainzen
RE: Mr Rib
Location: Prometheus Labratory
Bureau Notes: shorty post is short
Classified
As Mr. Rib escorted the trio to the exit - passing by the twitching corpse of the 'psychological test' as they went - Octavius's question seemed to strike something strange in their guide. "The 'truth'? What- oh. That's why you're here." The realization, or recollection, or the whatever was running through the Mr's mind, was quickly dismissed and smoothed over with a plentiful, cheerful smile. "Of course. The truth; The truth is that you three have all been chosen as special subjects of interest to the Bureau. As such, we shall be keeping a close eye on you in the future. Though we cannot disclose the reason as to why you are receiving such special treatment, we can assure you that it is all for the benefit of mankind!"
At the door, the Mr. drew to a halt, tapped in some kind of override code, and gestured for the guests to exit through the now open doorway. "Once again, I wish to remind you that digression regarding what has passed here today is vital. Do not worry though; agents assigned to you will be sure to remind you of this should you forget!" Mr Rib beamed like one of those Old Earth Barbie dolls. "Thank you again for your participation. We hope you have a wonderful day, and of course, a safe Passing! Take care of yourselves now."
When all were safely out of the laboratory, said smile vanished. Mr. Rib swore, albeit quietly enough to avoid detection from those possibly lingering outside. The outburst could not be afforded to last too long. Touching a small button on the side of the visor, Mr. Rib did the classic walk and talk as they strode off to the office. "Mr. Brain? Yes. Requesting a clean up team immediately. No. No Sir. Yes. We've had contamination by citizens. You know I'm not equipped to do that, Sir. Two of them are Counselors. Yes, Sir, I am aware of the fallout of spread. Sir, someone sent them here. I don't know, but I'd start with Mr. Temple; Bastard hasn't shown up. Mr- Mr Temple's what? Where?" Coming to a stand still, Mr. Rib covered their mouth and seemed unable to speak for a moment. "Right. I'll expect them shortly. Inform the rest of the Labs we may be compromised."
Last edited:
Bang Bang
what can I say except
To:
Dover
(and
ReverseTex
for future ref)RE: ZERA
Location: The Palace
Bureau Notes: L O L sorry co-hoe
Classified
Gabriel's apology - rather obviously at the insistence of his sister - had little effect on Zera; She knew well that he meant none of the apology, as his negations of 'perhaps' and 'chances' made it clear. He hardly even seemed to care about the fallout of such actions.
As they sat and Lexa elaborated, rabbiting on in that way of hers with choice care, choice words, but all with the same attempt regardless; they wished into the fold. Zera loathed it, the asking for power, above all else. She wished to tell them in a low and clear voice, do not ask me for power, but prove that you are deserving of it, but said no such thing; To instruct them in the art would ruin the point entirely.
Whilst pouring out a fresh round of the tea, Zera heard through the brain implant the silent to others, clear to her, 'ding' of a message arriving deemed by the system of urgent importance. Yet, she lingered; Whatever it may be, the odd longing in her bones that had kept her from merely breezing past her wards kept her seated.
"What is going on? Lexa, that you ask such a question is proof you still are unfit for the answer." Zera's gaze cut side long for the female twin, completely dismissing the male counterpart. "This is an Empire, dearest. There is no one thing going on. Everything is going on, every aspect is happening right now. Yes, you are adults, but I made the mistake of leaving you both to lives of simplicity. For that, I and my time constraints are to blame. Perhaps, if I had played the role of mother you sought, you both would think a little differently. For better or for worse.
But as things are, I do not even know how to answer that question. What is going on is everything that is always going on, save now, I must bear them in a breaking body. I-" she paused, draining her cup. "I appreciate your attempts to, perhaps, lighten the burden by sharing it. But what could you do, Lexa, really? You hold less power than I will in two weeks. And I cannot afford the risk of leaning on a powerless support. And your brother?" She looked to Gabriel. "I would as soon as trust him as I would the man with a knife to my throat."
The implant displaying the message before her eyes as if it were a real projection, though it were only neural, Zera saw it was to speak with Hera - it flashed, urgent. The urge to linger fought against logic, rationality; She wished to don the usual icy exterior she held around her 'children', but found it a tricky one to assume.
Standing, she glanced between the pair. "Next time you wish to solicit information, don't bring a feral dog to yap your secrets. I would have thought I'd taught you that well, at least." With a curt nod, Zera smoothed her robes and bid them farewell.
Venturing from the room, she proceeded quickly; She could not afford to linger among those who were making her feel so out of sorts. She'd never before felt that maternal for anyone, especially not her wards, yet there she'd sat feeling oddly saddened, as if she'd missed something. They were, in truth, her only claim to family left alive in the universe. One she despised, one she tolerated.
But then, that seemed the only available lot for someone in her position.
Dismissing these thoughts, Zera took up residence in a near by private room and sealed the door behind her. Approaching the terminal set upon the desk, she called, "Hera?" It was with effort that she tried to banish all trace of the tumult in her stomach from her expression, frowning at where Hera was due to appear.
Let it, for once, be good news.
Last edited:
Dover
bad joke dispensary
location: The Palace
interactions: Emperor Zera
Bang Bang
mentions: Isabel au Saara
Bang Bang
| Victoria au Saara
NUSKI
| Admiral au Taela
KnightSergeant
| Jamie au Olver
ReverseTex
interactions: Emperor Zera
Bang Bang
mentions: Isabel au Saara
Bang Bang
| Victoria au Saara
NUSKI
| Admiral au Taela
KnightSergeant
| Jamie au Olver
ReverseTex
There wasn't long to wait for Emperor Zera to answer the call, but the requests to her system were still piling up beyond her ability to answer. They were more panicked now. Hera, why won't you answer? Hera, is something wrong? Hera, are we safe? She could not answer at the rate they demanded and keep the Citadel functioning.
"Emperor Zera," she greeted. On the terminal, her avatar cut in and out as she struggled to keep her form present. "My apologies for the interruption, but there are urgent matters that require your attention. First, the email."
Next to her avatar, she brought up an image of the email. Its contents were the same—glitching and repeating 'THE VENTS' in an unending pattern.
Requests spiked again.
"███ █████ has been received by every register██ citizen with an available address and has ████ ███████ reported in the news," Hera said, her voice modulating erratically and making some words unintelligible. She did not notice.
"██ ███ compromised my functionality, but ███ █itadel remains operational."
She moved the holoprojection of the email to the side and brought up another one. A video of au Olver, bleeding from a head wound, flickered as it played.
"Au Olver has been severely wounded. Prior to this, I tracked him, as well as Isabel au Saara, to the Agency. My cameras have gone dark in the area. I will send au Olver's current location to your holopad."
Hera's avatar glitched repeatedly again.
"Fleet Admiral Victoria au Saara remains home. Admiral au Taela recently left her residence. I was not able t█ ████████ ███ ████████████. Is there anything else I can assist with, Emperor Zera?"
"Emperor Zera," she greeted. On the terminal, her avatar cut in and out as she struggled to keep her form present. "My apologies for the interruption, but there are urgent matters that require your attention. First, the email."
Next to her avatar, she brought up an image of the email. Its contents were the same—glitching and repeating 'THE VENTS' in an unending pattern.
Requests spiked again.
"███ █████ has been received by every register██ citizen with an available address and has ████ ███████ reported in the news," Hera said, her voice modulating erratically and making some words unintelligible. She did not notice.
"██ ███ compromised my functionality, but ███ █itadel remains operational."
She moved the holoprojection of the email to the side and brought up another one. A video of au Olver, bleeding from a head wound, flickered as it played.
"Au Olver has been severely wounded. Prior to this, I tracked him, as well as Isabel au Saara, to the Agency. My cameras have gone dark in the area. I will send au Olver's current location to your holopad."
Hera's avatar glitched repeatedly again.
"Fleet Admiral Victoria au Saara remains home. Admiral au Taela recently left her residence. I was not able t█ ████████ ███ ████████████. Is there anything else I can assist with, Emperor Zera?"
Last edited:
Bang Bang
what can I say except
To:
Noivian
Mourning Dove
Dover
and anyone else who might want to know wtaf Afterlife is like, other than a swaggy place with swaggy strippers. RE: B♡Y
Location: Afterlife
Bureau Notes: well I guess loyalties just got confirmed.
Classified
"Aisshh," Boy hissed as the wall they presently had one cybernetic arm plugged into sparked, withdrawing the limb with a sharp yank. "The tiny robot kicked me out."
"What an embarrassing defeat," Rachel drawled from beside them, arms folded over her chest as she reclined, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"You do understand that, despite all the comms systems being physically torn out from down in the systems room, I still just managed to-" Boy cut short with the force of the 'I literally give zero fucks about everything you are saying right now, you massive nerd' face that Rachel was giving them. Instead, they retracted their arms and reattached the finger ligaments to the joints, from which they had removed them to serve as temporary bridges in the wiring system of the wall panel. "You're a failure of a Tech."
"Don't care," Rachel said with a shrug. "That nerd shit still bores me."
"I just hope they got the warning. I don't know when it cut out." Boy almost looked fretful, an impossible expression, surely, from their mighty, unconquerable leader. Or, so Rachel told them, with heavy satire lacing her tone. "Look, there is an incredibly charming lady down there, with whom I hope to have future relations. So go fuck yourself."
Shaking her hands up, Rachel washed herself of the matter and strolled off to join the reinforcements at the doors. With the Blinders now on the level below - far too close for comfort - they'd given up on holding the rest of the district beyond trying to keep the Blinders to that level, and were now focusing all their resource on barricading Afterlife. About two dozen armed individuals held steady by the door outside and in, keeping watch for any nearby movement or unwanted entrance. Meanwhile, the rest of their people, those whose faces were too well known in connection with the name of Boy's Syndicate, had been brought up for refuge - or at least, those who could be persuaded to do so. Sir Lancelot it seemed had taken up residence with Mr. Knife, for what purpose, who knew; Sir claimed it was 'For the King, Boy! For the King!'.
It was the most sorry Boy had ever seen Afterlife looking. Those employed in sex work had gone to fetch more practical and defensive clothing, and sat littered among the rest of their kin. As on Citadel, they'd always been a collection of odd-jobs when it came down to it; Together like this, without the glitzy clothing or the make-up, and even the stark neon lighting turned off in favor of its more practical daylight alternative, they looked awfully normal and human, and by such, vulnerable.
Boy was just wondering if this was actual fear they were feeling when they caught Blue, sat up on the bar with a bottle of blue something in their hand, death-staring them with a frown. Well, that was reassuring.
Sauntering over, Boy took the bottle and finished off the contents, discovering in the process not exactly what it was, but that it was strong. "Why so blue, Blue?" Boy asked with the shit-eating grin that must always accompany the patented Worst Joke of All Time in the Syndicate. They awaited to be shoved onto the floor as they hauled themselves up onto the bar, as was customary when said remark was made, but instead Blue busied themselves with hauling out some other brightly tinted bottle from under the bar.
"I don't get it. I don't get you." They withdrew a candy pink bottle shaped like a heart, popped the cap with a deep blue nail, and drank. "Why aren't these fuckers dead yet?' Boy laughed.
"Sorry for not being a god."
"Don't," Blue said, sharply enough to kill Boy's smile in its conception. "If I do not lie to you, you do not lie to me. That was the deal."
Grimacing, Boy rocked back on the bartop and struggled to find the correct words this time. "One rebellion nearly succeeding goes a long way to starting another one. And this identifies loyalties and prejudices. We'll know after this who will willingly play turncoat and who won't." Shrugging, they sat forward on their legs. "That and it's an awful lot of people to kill. Easier just to have the leaders taken out and leave the troops alive for future use."
Seemingly at least somewhat satisfied, Blue smirked. "Thought you were going soft."
"Please," Boy shot back, taking the bottle and a draft from its contents. "Who can afford that shit in this day and age?"
Last edited:
NUSKI
new-skee
To: Aria (
Cosmic_Chaos
)RE: VICTORIA
Location: Fleet Admiral's Residence
Bureau Notes: check discord
Classified
"Phillip, close the door" Victoria said only seconds before Phillip slammed both of the large wooden doors closed. Victoria sighed and shook her head, an annoyed smile creeping up on her face. Victoria pulled herself closer to her desk, the edge of the table pushing in on the lower part of her chest. Victoria looked at the girl and opened her mouth to say something only to close it shut again. She didn't need a squire, why would Zera send this girl to her? "I don't care what the Emperor says, if I don't see you fit to be my squire, you won't be" Victoria started, ignoring the question about her ID. Obviously she was bluffing; if the Emperor actually gave her this assignment she would have to accept it but Victoria wanted to make sure she wouldn't be wasting time trying to protect someone out on the battlefield with no potential. Victoria pushed her chair back and stood up to one of the metal shelves that stood behind her. She pulled a metal box with no lock from one of the bottom rows and gently placed it on her desk, opening it and taking the contents out.
"Since you're a trainee, I assume you have not been in any type of real battle... like where opponent really wants to kill you" Victoria continued as she grabbed a microfiber cloth from the box and wiped down the gun with it. Victoria frowned as she swung the weapon side to side, trying to get the feel of it. She hadn't used it in a long time-- the only reason she kept it was because she got her first kill with it. It might have been a bit sadistic to keep it after but it made Victoria feel more comfortable with it around. "The expedition that I am going on tomorrow is no joke. If you can't handle yourself, I will leave you to die. I don't know what your life has been like but after tomorrow it will be different. You will see things that you will forget, do things that may haunt you for the rest of your life and I have to make sure you're ready. Before we start, I just need you to do one thing. All I want you to do is..." Victoria paused to place the gun on the desk and slide it in Aria's direction.
"Shoot me."
Last edited:
Cosmic_Chaos
Turning into Chaos Incarnate, don't mind me
-
Aria Renean
I am a Master at Parkour! Don't underestimate me!
Aria listened to the woman talk. Aria knew it was unwise to interrupt, but she felt like she had to say something. Making quick mental notes, she looked at the gun and back at Victoria. This, wasn't good. Wait... Is it loaded? "You assuming that where I come from is a more... sheltered background. I'm from the Shadow districts, and someone somewhere wants to pick a fight. Most have guns or some type of weapon. And if it benefits them by killing you.... They will." Aria says, picking up the gun, and looking at it. It was a nice model, but it wasn't her type. she was more... Knifes and throwing knifes. Less noise... Lighter. Best with a parkourist.
"Understandable though, if you try to leave me behind. Don't want to be slowed down. The reason I'm not over keen on guns. They weight slows me down when I'm parkouring." Aria says, half-heartedly playing with the gun. She points the gun to the window and sighs, hating the feeling. Knifes are never this heavy. "Also, word of advice for future refrence." She pointed the Gun towards herself, thumbing the Safety lock. "Underestimating my skills is something that is unwise. I tend to... Have trouble holding myself back." She pointed it to the woman, Victoria, that name that jumped into her head. She thought for a moment, cocking her head to the side in though while looking at the gun. And shot.
NUSKI
NUSKI
new-skee
To: Aria (
Cosmic_Chaos
)RE: VICTORIA
Location: Fleet Admial's Residence
Bureau Notes: i didnt like this post. probably my last post until tomorrow or until two other people post
Classified
Victoria sighed and bit her lip, slowing sitting back down. This girl was truly something else. She didn't seem like a child, maybe a year or two older than Phillip and she wanted to go to war? Victoria loved violence more than anyone, but she had always been against sending young people off to fight. Not because she sympathized, but because they were a waste. They didn't have time to reach their peak or in special cases, couldn't even use a gun. It was admirable that they wanted to fight of course, and Victoria sometimes wondered if she was given that choice at such a young age if she would fight.
She had been searching for a purpose for a while now and concluded that it was possible Phillip but maybe she was wrong. Emperor Zera may have given her a new project to work on. Depending on how fast she learned, Victoria could possibly turn her into a great warrior in the Imperial Fleet. Or she could be wrong, and maybe this girl wanted to be a mercenary which to Victoria, was a job for those not good enough for The Agency or the Fleet.
"If that was fake, please don't. I wouldn't give you a gun if I couldn't defend myself from it" Victoria said, gesturing for the girl to sit back down. The Aria girl claimed she was from the Shadow Districts so it only made her question even more what Zera was doing with her. At least she wasn't of Noblus status, that would have just been boring. This girl... this girl had already seen the ugly of the Citadel. Victoria hated newbies that were so narrow-minded that the first time they saw a dead body they just froze; it was annoying. "...but if you accidentally left the safety lock on you're clearly more stupid than I initially thought. Either way, if you come directly from Emperor Zera there is nothing I can do but follow her orders. I can tell by the way you hold it, you are not used to the grip of a gun, you didn't need to tell me. What surprises me, is how you were appointed to be my squire when you don't like guns. You better start liking them because out there... they will have rockets and all varieties of bullets that can end your life the same way. You will keep that gun for now, we are going to go to the range shortly."
Victoria stopped talking to once again trace the symbol of House au Augustus on her desk before looking up to Aria with an expression that could only be described as inhospitable. "If you do not want me to get angry, I suggest you refrain from giving me advice. From now on, you will refer to me as ma'am or Fleet Admiral au Saara, understand? You may give me your ID now, but before we go anywhere I want you to tell me why they sent you here. Do you plan on going to the Fleet or pursue some other career?"
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
To:
Bang Bang
and whoever else is around BoyRE: "AZRAEL"
Location: Afterlife
Bureau Notes: Enter stage left one (1) assassin
Classified
The place looked like shit. What used to be a swanky bar/nightclub had turned into something of a makeshift wartime bunker. The assassin couldn't claim honestly that he had never been here, both for work and personal pleasure. Many of his past employers favored the place for the loud and distracting atmosphere. Kept it easy to share secrets and tell who was watching. Azrael figured it was only a matter of time before the owner themselves caught wind of the assassin's talents. He had, in fact, been counting the days since the rebellion started up to the point where Boy would contact him about employment. And not employment as a sex worker, despite how the assassin's rather toned and masculine form may be desirable to some.
As predicted, the guards halted him at the door, asked for identification. As they naturally should. Any hooded and masked figure who purposefully hides their body and identity was suspicious enough to be checked, especially when android spies were a possibility. When asked his intentions, he simply lifted his hood a tad and responded "I'm here for employment." And when asked his name, he responded as he always does, "Azrael." Over the years he had been active in the Juno station, he'd like to think he made quite a name for himself. Of course, the guards parted for him, and he stepped inside.
Boy wasn't hard to pick out of the crowd. Of the downtrodden and almost fearful looking sex workers turned makeshift fighters, Boy was the only one cracking a smile, stealing a bottle out of someone's hand and hopping up onto the counter. Walking over to his potential new employer, Azrael just barely caught the tail end of the conversation before entering conversable distance. Leaning back to partially sit on a table, he crossed his arm. "Boy, I presume?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "I got your note."
Collidias Rex
Proficient with Plot Armor and Natural Weapons.
To:
Bang Bang
RE: HADES
Location: Underworld
Bureau Notes: So, anyone realized that my character's initials are WMD? Oh, purely coincidental, though.
Classified
And so she prattled on. Hell, he shouldn't have given her the time of day. The ridiculous codenames, the ridiculous getup ...
What a bloody mess.
Hades pinched the bridge of his nose as the indignant android climbed to her feet. Fretting over prying secrets and scandals ... he was sure it would work for someone, but she was wasting her breath on him. No, he had more important plans than this mess. He had bigger projects to divert time and energy to - especially so, considering how much time and energy would need be devoted to infiltrating Zera's ...
...
That was it.
That was it.
His fingers had stopped, stock-still on the tabletop. He found his gazed transfixed - not on Madame Trouble as she left, but straight ahead as his thoughts lurched into motion, twisting and writhing like snakes. Yes. Yes That was it. How long had it been? Only one day - the passing was the day before. How much time did he have?
He shoved a hand into his coat pocket and scraped out two letters he'd received that morning. One from the Emperor herself, no less, and the other scrawled by one of his whores the night before. He slapped both pieces onto the tabletop and flattened the creases out with a stroke of his hand.
... this was it. No more waiting, no more biding his time. This was what he needed - these two opportunities.
"Gwen." He murmured, uncharacteristically distant. "We're beginning."
Beginning. It hung on the tip of his tongue and he could hear it lingering. Starting. Commencing. Each sound echoed in his ear, lucid and opaque.
"Arrange a meeting with Boy's associates. We need some damn good hackers, a damn good warper and some muscle. People capable of infiltrating Zera's palace. If he has anyone skilled in moving people or abducting people, grab them - that part is a priority. I know that 'hires' aren't exactly Boy's primary business, but I think they can make an exception for a very generous payment. If Boy's curious, tell them to stop by - we need all the help we can get. After that ... you remember that Ritelli kid who shows up sometimes?" He shot a sharp nod over his shoulder. "He's on the job tomorrow. Do your thing and stick a bug on him. We need intel. A couple of superficial injuries should be enough excuse to visit him. I'll leave the rest in your capable hands."
Hades had a hell of a week in front of him. He slipped a blank scrap of paper from his pocket, and began scribbling a message to the leader of the Android Rebellion.
CerpinTaxt
A Man With No Face
To:
Dover
Mourning Dove
Bang Bang
ReverseTex
Squared
RE: EYE L
Location: Docks of Juno
Bureau Notes: God damn Blinders
Classified
The red one had exploded, much to the expectation of Eye. The others had panicked, most certainly aware of just who Eye was. It seemed, due to their fear that they simply froze and didn't fight back. He leaned out from where he had been taking cover from, his pistol ready to fire once more when he spotted the one with the more modern weapon. Eye's gaze was transfixed on it, attempting to remember just exactly what i-
!
The world seemed to shake around him, twisting and turning like mad. His sense of motion was lost, his orientation was in shambles and his balance was hardly there. Eye dropped to one knee, his free hand grasping the pillar beside him as the world spun. He could hear their footsteps as they fled, but there was little he could do to prevent them from leaving. His free hand clenched into the pillar, the granite cracking under his grasp. He stayed there for a while more, his fingers digging into the pillar more and more. The effects had worn off at this point, and he had regained his balance, yet he still clutched the pillar.
Mr. Eye was very agitated.
Eye slowly brought himself to his feet, his shaking hands betraying the calm look on his face. He looked around, acknowledging every one of them had escaped. He walked out into the horrific slums, looking out and around them for any potential sign for where they could have possibly gone. All of it for naught however. They were long gone, and the lack of cameras made finding them impossible. Eye took a slow, deep breath and turned around to face back into the docks. Some random man had made his way in at this point, busting open the door just as Eye had begun to move once more. He merely stared at the man for a few moments before approaching the door which had now shut at this point.
--
Sudden and without warning, a bent, mangled door shot through the Docks, flying a good twenty meters before skidding to a halt. A large dent straight in the middle was perhaps the most noticeable damage to it, looking as if someone had kicked it off its hinges. Anyone who looked to see where the door had come from would only see Eye, beginning to set his left leg down with a perhaps rather terrified man behind him. He stayed there for a few moments, his face never changing from its standard neutral position.
The shaking in his hands had ceased at that point. In fact, Eye could have said he felt much better from such a therapeutic exercise. Eye had decided to make his way back to the others at this point, returning just as the transmission from Boy had ceased. The strange pistol was still in his hand, a few of the lights periodically blinking. Not saying a word for a few moments, Eye brought his other gloved hand to the weapon. He brought it to the top, where it looked as if the bolt of a rifle had been welded onto a revolver. He pulled the small lever(bolt) back, a small piece of metal ejecting from the strange part of the firearm. It looked to be red hot and a bit of steam rose off from it. Retrieving an identical piece, he slid it back where the previous one had been ejected from and closed the bolt once more. "Those Blinders are an issue, one which must be severely dealt with."
He flipped the gun over to his other hand, pressing down on a small catch to allow the cylinder of the revolver section to come out. Eye extracted three of the strange looking casings from the weapon and tossed them aside. Any person around firearms could tell it was .44 Magnum by the size, but it just looked..not quite right. As if the gun took a special proprietary round of sorts. Removing three bullets from a separate section of his coat, he put the rounds into where the old ones had been extracted from before flicking his hand, the cylinder swinging back into place with a click.
"If Mr. Tanyag and Miss Scotch are to make their way to Mr. Knife...then I'm sure they'll come across someone who frequents Juno more than I do. Someone who would be more than willing to escort them. Yes..my guess is you'll see them..." He was silent for a few moments, thinking of where this apparent someone would be. "The Tuhi District."
ReverseTex
Old Timer
Squared
What even is gender
Location: Juno
Tagging: Scotch
Mourning Dove
| Sami
Dover
Mentions: Nigel
ReverseTex
| Eye
CerpinTaxt
OOC: he really needs to learn to keep it in his pants
Flamboyant twat. Well, he'd been called worse, Nat tried not to let it bother him. But boy, if Nigel thought he was being flamboyant now, wait until he saw an episode or two of his show.
“You are a ginormous thorn in my side Mr. Bernoulli, nothing will change that. But, Juno is a open sanction to all, even these bloody Blinders... I will give you once chance, if you so much as make me sigh, I’ll personally send that little Blind Bureau shit on you,” Nigel had said to him.
Nat bit his lip slightly at that — he very much wanted to make the man sigh, in many different ways, but he managed to exercise some self control and not voice those desires. Still, there was something very attractive about how commanding the man's tone had been.
Those thoughts were unfortunately cut short by the sound of gunfire. Nigel had pulled out his pistol and all but ordered Nat to go help the others protecting the cargo. Nat nodded, while internally wondering if Nigel was just as confident and commanding in other areas of his life too. While he was reluctant to part with his new muse, he decided to play along for now, and head over to the ship.
"DO ME A FAVOUR DARLING AND DON'T DIE," he shouted to Nigel as he rushed away.
He was planing on clearing the path to the door, he really was. Nat ran towards the container, getting ready to telekinetically shove it out of the way, but someone else beat him to it. He let out a low whistle as the container was blasted to kingdom come. Apparently someone was really eager to get out. Not long after, the actual metallic doors shot towards him, so fast that he didn't have time to move. If he hadn't been capable of teleporting, he would've probably been cleaved in two.
Nat found himself on his knees, a few metres to the side, having very narrowly avoided the mangled doors flying through the air. What on earth had caused that? He glanced in the direction of the entrance and froze as he saw Mr. Eye standing there. Just how strong was this guy? He decided not to stay around long enough to find out, instead hurrying to find the two Nigel had so politely asked him to.
He quickly caught up with them; the younger man with the cool leg, and the woman standing next to him. He'd seen them earlier too but only then did he mange to get a better look at them.
Heck, he's cute too. And she's gorgeous, she's got spunk. I mean sure they're not wearing the nicest of clothes, but that's the beauty of clothing, it can easily be changed. What is happening on this station? I knew it was a den of illegal activities, but was not aware everyone was illegally beautiful too, he thought as he took a few more steps towards them, making his presence known.
Before he could say anything, however, a voice came out of —what was that thing? A floating tin bucket?
The tone of the voice was flirty, and Nat decided that he definitely wanted to meet the person it belonged to. As far as the content of the message went though, it sounded as if there was a slight change of plans.
Head up to Afterlife? Now, Nat knew he didn't have that many years left, but he would rather not visit the afterlife quite yet. He still had so many clothes to design, and so many people to sleep with. And of course the message had cut off at the most inopportune time. Classic. Well, at least it would make for great show material later on, when he finally got around to airing this wondrous little adventure of his.
The voice that had spoken through the tin-can, it had said that Nigel needed to go fight those Blinders, and while Nat didn't know them personally, they did not sound like a particularly pleasant bunch. He wanted to be by Nigel's side, for sure, but actually joining a fight with him? He wasn't sure if he was feeling that adventurous. And Nigel made it pretty clear that he didn't want Nat tagging along either —it was probably the first time the two of them agreed on something. So Nat tore his eyes off beautiful beautiful Nigel, and instead focused on the other two gorgeous people.
"Right, I don't believe I properly introduced myself earlier. Nathaniel Prescott Bernoulli, but you can call me Nat —Nigel said that you require some assistance?" He glanced around to make sure Nigel wasn't listening. "So, perhaps I can assist you, and I assume we will all meet up with Nigel later, so maybe you can put in a good word for me then, no? Let him know how useful I've been?" Despite everything that had happened, he still managed to sound smooth and confident.
"For example," he continued, "carrying this cargo, whatever it is, seems to no longer be part of the plan. Leaving it here though just like this might be a bit risky. Now, I don't know Juno well, but I know the Citadel has a storage and transport system, where you can load your cargo and access it from anywhere. By the looks of it, Juno seems to have a similar system —but you probably know that already. Loading it up there seems like a wiser choice than just leaving it here unprotected, no?"
Tagging: Scotch
Mourning Dove
| Sami
Dover
Mentions: Nigel
ReverseTex
| Eye
CerpinTaxt
OOC: he really needs to learn to keep it in his pants
Nathaniel Prescott Bernoulli
Flamboyant twat. Well, he'd been called worse, Nat tried not to let it bother him. But boy, if Nigel thought he was being flamboyant now, wait until he saw an episode or two of his show.
“You are a ginormous thorn in my side Mr. Bernoulli, nothing will change that. But, Juno is a open sanction to all, even these bloody Blinders... I will give you once chance, if you so much as make me sigh, I’ll personally send that little Blind Bureau shit on you,” Nigel had said to him.
Nat bit his lip slightly at that — he very much wanted to make the man sigh, in many different ways, but he managed to exercise some self control and not voice those desires. Still, there was something very attractive about how commanding the man's tone had been.
Those thoughts were unfortunately cut short by the sound of gunfire. Nigel had pulled out his pistol and all but ordered Nat to go help the others protecting the cargo. Nat nodded, while internally wondering if Nigel was just as confident and commanding in other areas of his life too. While he was reluctant to part with his new muse, he decided to play along for now, and head over to the ship.
"DO ME A FAVOUR DARLING AND DON'T DIE," he shouted to Nigel as he rushed away.
He was planing on clearing the path to the door, he really was. Nat ran towards the container, getting ready to telekinetically shove it out of the way, but someone else beat him to it. He let out a low whistle as the container was blasted to kingdom come. Apparently someone was really eager to get out. Not long after, the actual metallic doors shot towards him, so fast that he didn't have time to move. If he hadn't been capable of teleporting, he would've probably been cleaved in two.
Nat found himself on his knees, a few metres to the side, having very narrowly avoided the mangled doors flying through the air. What on earth had caused that? He glanced in the direction of the entrance and froze as he saw Mr. Eye standing there. Just how strong was this guy? He decided not to stay around long enough to find out, instead hurrying to find the two Nigel had so politely asked him to.
He quickly caught up with them; the younger man with the cool leg, and the woman standing next to him. He'd seen them earlier too but only then did he mange to get a better look at them.
Heck, he's cute too. And she's gorgeous, she's got spunk. I mean sure they're not wearing the nicest of clothes, but that's the beauty of clothing, it can easily be changed. What is happening on this station? I knew it was a den of illegal activities, but was not aware everyone was illegally beautiful too, he thought as he took a few more steps towards them, making his presence known.
Before he could say anything, however, a voice came out of —what was that thing? A floating tin bucket?
The tone of the voice was flirty, and Nat decided that he definitely wanted to meet the person it belonged to. As far as the content of the message went though, it sounded as if there was a slight change of plans.
Head up to Afterlife? Now, Nat knew he didn't have that many years left, but he would rather not visit the afterlife quite yet. He still had so many clothes to design, and so many people to sleep with. And of course the message had cut off at the most inopportune time. Classic. Well, at least it would make for great show material later on, when he finally got around to airing this wondrous little adventure of his.
The voice that had spoken through the tin-can, it had said that Nigel needed to go fight those Blinders, and while Nat didn't know them personally, they did not sound like a particularly pleasant bunch. He wanted to be by Nigel's side, for sure, but actually joining a fight with him? He wasn't sure if he was feeling that adventurous. And Nigel made it pretty clear that he didn't want Nat tagging along either —it was probably the first time the two of them agreed on something. So Nat tore his eyes off beautiful beautiful Nigel, and instead focused on the other two gorgeous people.
"Right, I don't believe I properly introduced myself earlier. Nathaniel Prescott Bernoulli, but you can call me Nat —Nigel said that you require some assistance?" He glanced around to make sure Nigel wasn't listening. "So, perhaps I can assist you, and I assume we will all meet up with Nigel later, so maybe you can put in a good word for me then, no? Let him know how useful I've been?" Despite everything that had happened, he still managed to sound smooth and confident.
"For example," he continued, "carrying this cargo, whatever it is, seems to no longer be part of the plan. Leaving it here though just like this might be a bit risky. Now, I don't know Juno well, but I know the Citadel has a storage and transport system, where you can load your cargo and access it from anywhere. By the looks of it, Juno seems to have a similar system —but you probably know that already. Loading it up there seems like a wiser choice than just leaving it here unprotected, no?"
Bang Bang
what can I say except
To:
ReverseTex
Dover
RE: ZERA AU AUGUSTUS
Location: The Palace | Market Level Hospital
Bureau Notes: Zera gives zero fucks she is not playing around
Classified
"Hera? Hera-?" Tsking, Zera resisted the petulant, childish urge to roll her eyes and grimaced at the flickering, glitching mess before her. "I swear, these guest rooms are so outdated. To think these represent the Empire." She looked sidelong at the flickering blue avatar and asked, more softly. "Or is it you, Hera?"
Was there something suspect at hand? Was someone meddling in Hera's programming? No, the Core was their most secure area... But nonetheless, Zera made note to prioritise the maintenance check. Let it be done tomorrow, or the day after at latest; She had no patience for broken machines, even if Hera was one she'd known ever since she'd claimed her throne.
Sighing, she fixed the SAI with a cold look. "Hera. Whatever is causing these errors of yours, I want you to ensure they are fixed, whatever it takes. And keep up the watch. I shall message the Agency Captain about these blind spots of yours. As for au Saara and au Olver... I believe I know exactly what has occurred between them. Do not notify me when they find Isabel's body, but do send my condolences to her wife. Order flowers, perhaps."
Done with her children, done with Hera, Zera dismissed the SAI and pondered a moment; How ought she to respond? Of course, she'd already planned the answer; insomniac nights of vomiting and shaking made for excellent thought processing time.
It was, as she had predicted, in a sombre, but lavish attire that she left the Palace; she hadn't expected au Saara to injure her opponent, but perhaps Zera had not given the late Bella enough credit. After all, she was the only Counselor who had discovered Jamie's rouse. Credit was due there. But she could never have played Emperor. She cared to much for those close to her, and feared the future to keenly. Paranoia marked her functions, not the ruthless certainty an Emperor needed.
Approaching an upper level hospital, Zera had already formed suspicions as to who may possess that certainty. Of course, other qualities were required also. She would test those at once.
Entering undisturbed, she gleaned from the attending android physcian the location of the injured Counselor. Finding and entering his room, she fixed upon her face a look of untethered condescension. When she spoke, it was with perfect mocking. "Much improved," she told the man now carved upon the face as well as the belly with scars. "You must recommend me your surgeon. I did not think a face such as yours could be saved, yet here's the proof of the contrary."
Teasing smile vanishing, she barked with the utmost commanding authority, "Sit." Coming to stand before him - and she was a tall women, which she put to good use - she looked down at him. "You arrogant piece of shit. You think to go behind my back, kill my advisors, bribe my Agency?" A deathly smirk graced her lips. "How uncannily you remind me of myself."
Dispersing to take a seat in a guest's chair, she slumped back and nursed her arm, bound as it was in a metal contraption designed to minimise and hold back the spasms. "Any other time I'd have you executed. But, with my reign near over, someone of my capabilities is required." She shot him a warning look. "Not something you have yet demonstrated, mind you. Your handling of all this has been clumsy. Pulling the trigger, so speak, yourself, was an indulgence that shows how weak you still are."
"You got my invitation, I suppose? Make sure you attend. Moreover, I wish for you to cook for me. I shall be preparing the meal myself, as is prudent with guests, in my opinion. You shall join me. And I will hear no protest." She did not miss a beat as she spoke, though her hand had to grip the arm of the chair hard to stay steady. "You have until that evening to prove to me that you can play your cards a little better than this mess. If you should fail the deadline, your place as Emperor is as much a fairy tale as your chance of love was when you got that first scar of yours."
Her words, though cruel, were spoken without malice, but also without sympathy. He was not her child; She would not falter with him as she had with her own wards, strange as that sensation had been to her. He was just another plate to keep afloat and in motion.
"I want you to ensure that, when you do inherit - or rather, if you do - that the Noblus, complacent and yet scheming as they are, as you demonstrate, can pose no possible threat to the rule. I do not want you to merely beat your competition, Jamie au Olver. I want you to eradicate it. Carefully, mind you. Another mess like this and I'll have you shot at dawn. Do I make myself understood?"
ReverseTex
Old Timer
Cosmic_Chaos
Turning into Chaos Incarnate, don't mind me
-
Mors Cealesti
I don't care. Just leave me the fuck alone.
Moors sighed in aggravation. He was stuck home, because His sister was worried, or her type of worry anyway, about the doors being malfunctioned. He had an Idea what was going on. The doors was electrical. Who's the one who can get into any sort of electric shit? An Android. Mainly Hera. But, He kept his suspicions low. He could be wrong, and it was just a faulty wiring. "Fuck sake Vi, just use basic doors." He grounded out. The doors slid open and closed, and Vita looked as if she was in her own world again. "I suppose.... you are right Mors. That may be easier. However, you must keep the key, you know what I'm like." She smiled and Mors sighed again agitated. "Hmm, I don't know. How about put the key onto a fucking chain and make it into a necklace." He said, and Vita smiled brightly at him. Ugh, he hated it when she did that.
"An Amazing Idea brother! I'll get to that right away! Thank you so much!" She hugged him, causing him to stagger back a bit. He hated this. Why can't he just be with the rebellion. It was so much.. Better than this dump. But... He had to make sure that His sister wasn't Dying on him. God-forsaken promises. He sighed as he watched Vita leave and the doors oepn and close on whim. He punched it, making a dent and getting them stuck. They won't be able to open very well, but it's better than nothing. He sighed, before wondering what's going on with the Rebellion. He could only do so much, not being head of house. But he could keep tabs on some poeple like Vita. He has been asked quite a bit about Vita, what side she's on. And he replies the same way. 'No fucking point. she just wants peace'. The fucking weirdo.
Mentions
Bang Bang
Elowyn
word weaver
To:
Noivian
RE: GUINEVERE VASCADIAR
Location: Syn Nightclub
Bureau Notes: g i r l w i t h t w o f a c e s .
Classified
Guinn: the daughter of the most dangerous.
"Vera has no father."
Warper, and top fighter chick.
"Vera doesn't have any special powers."
Decidedly single, and turns down every man who takes interest.
"Smiles and flirts in underground bars."
This is the tale of a girl with two faces…!
This is Vera/Guinn's story.
*****
"For the last time I told you no!" she gives Vaughn a death glare. His pestering was bringing her to her rope's end. "My patience can only go so far. If you keep bothering me, I won't be held responsible for the consequences."
His face hardens as the thug for hire steps back. "I-I'm sorry, Miss Vascadiar. I shouldn't have--" But she was already turning and walking stiffly away. This was the way it was for the past few months. She'd talked to her father about it, but he hadn't done much of anything except a verbal reprimand. Sometimes she wondered if he wanted her to get hitched with Vaughn duAhn. He was the most able-bodied underling Rhyder LeGuinn Vascadiar had, and also the most loyal… besides his very own daughter. Except the problem was that she wasn't that interested in producing a heir, and much less interested in becoming some hind's wife.
*****
Vera 's look
A few hours later…
Bright neon lights, gyrating bodies forming a constantly pulsing mob. The throng bobbing to the overly loud music blaring from overhead speakers. It was the bomb. The best place to party and liven things up: Boy's Syn nightclub. Aptly named. If her father knew… but he would never know. Her now blue-black locks twirling about her face with her fast movements and her violet eyes almost as bright as the lighted signs would disguise her well enough, even if the showy assemblage did not. Everything about her appearance was designed so that she would blend in with the underground crowd. No one would think twice about a girl in a flashy outfit dancing her heart out. And more importantly, no one would think it was Guinevere of Vascadiar.
A young guy caught her hand, flashed a cocky smile. She smiled back, her heart thudding nervously in her chest. You never knew who these people were. If they had blood on their hands. If they were blackmailers or stim-dealers. Backstabbers or addicts. Her innocent childhood showed, despite the clothing and heavy makeup that claimed otherwise. Guinn was the one with the kick-@$$ warper abilities. Vera was an innocent. "Dance with me," he shouted in her ear over the boom of the bass. And they became two whirling figures in the room full of light and shadows and movement.
*****
Nearing midnight:
She groaned. …one drink too many. An empty glass sat by her hand. With her head resting on her arms atop the bar, she wondered how long she had been gone for. Would her father be worrying about her? Seeking her out? Or would he only send his employees to track her down?
He'll be sending Korrin if he wants to track me. Knowing the men was key to the success of her outings. But I know Korrin's weakness…! A small smile played on the corner of her mouth. Fire.
"Hey, got a light?" she asked the man sitting to her right with a rather lazy grin, caused by the alcohol running through her blood.
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
To:
Elowyn
RE: "AZRAEL"
Location: Afterlife, a week prior.
Bureau Notes: Days in the past, but not many...
Classified
Azrael wasn’t the drinking type. Drinking out you off your guard, and while drowning one’s sorrows in a bottle of alcohol was desirable to some, the assassin found that he bore very little sorrow from his job. What sorrow he did Bear was personal, and was to remain like so, perhaps for the rest of his life. He couldn’t afford to have a bottle loosen his lips. Many of his employers would sooner turn him in to collect his reward than sympathize with his reasoning.
But today was an exception.
Today was the day both he and his wretched brother were brought into this world. He liked to think he at least deserved a drink for having to go through the hell that was his upbringing.
Beside him sat a fine looking lady, if not a little disheveled. She looked like she had been dancing. Azrael didn’t much care for dance, but not because he couldn’t dance. He just didn’t feel the need to dance, even with the steady beat of the bass that reverberated through the place.
She asked for a light, and Azrael quickly lifted the lighter off the man passed out drunk on the other side of him, offering her the flame it produced. He wasn’t one to pick up girls at a bar, usually. Emotional attachment was a liability, and it was all to easy to kill someone via a one night stand.
But, as was mentioned prior, today was an exception.
”What is a fine miss such as yourself doing at a place like this?” he stated, going the flattery route.
Last edited:
Elowyn
word weaver
To:
Noivian
RE: GUINEVERE VASCADIAR
Location: Afterlife, the past
Bureau Notes: //Vera. who cares where she's at??//
Classified
She studied his features carefully, her gaze unwavering despite the buzz. He's hot. As Guinn she would never have opened up an inch of her heart to a man, but this was different. She was in Boy's nightclub, covered with a sheen of drying sweat and the thick tasteless perfume that cost way too few credits to be any good.
"I'm going to pretend this is yours." She took the lighter from him and pocketed it with a daredevil grin as if purposefully provoking him by taking the entire lighter itself. It could be useful given the wide array of alcohols to choose from if she wanted to light the place up. Tequila... rum... whiskey... vodka... Those would catch quick. Eeny-meeny-miney, "Barkeep! A vodka!" She pretended not to hear the compliment in his question.
Only until after the bartender slid over a glass of her flammable liquid did she finally return to his question. "I could ask your handsome face the same question." A flirtatious smile crossed her plum-hued lips. This could be fun.
Last edited:
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
To:
Elowyn
RE: "AZRAEL"
Location: Afterlife, a week prior.
Bureau Notes: Moving somewhere less loud.
Classified
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you think you're coy, shooting my own words back at me?" he teased with a cheeky grin. He lifted his hand to the bartender, and the man slid him a glass of ale wordlessly. He took a long swig. "Finish a bottle of that, we'll see just how coy you are," he all but dared her with a vague gesture to her glass, banking on the bet that she wouldn't even dare down that much liquor. He chuckled at the thought of this pretty girl drunk stumbling over the dance floor, bottle in hand. What an easy target. No need for coy words or the like, just a bullet between the eyes.
"Tell 'ya what. Let's get out of here, go somewhere we can actually hear ourselves think in. Drinks on me." With that signature grin, Azrael nodded his head to the door, as if to say 'after you'. "Maybe, if we get tired of that place too, I could take you somewhere more interesting...?? More or less, this question was going to make of break his night. If she said yes, that was almost a guarantee she'd follow him home if he so chose to take her there. And if she said no, then it was no problem. He'd leave her there, and go somewhere else, pick up someone just as stunning, or even more so.
KnightSergeant
Just a Knight
location: Underworld
tagging:
Collidias Rex
mentions:
ooc: pretend human
Underworld, a fitting name he supposed for a place where the vile and aimless gathered in mass he supposed. Still, no matter, he had been dealing with the scum of this planet for years and had learned their manners, when they had them, eccentricities and strange paranoias so much that, while he would not admit it himself, they may have brushed off on him for whatever reasons of thoughtful evolution that currently eluded him. Dredging himself out of his deep processing systems he returned to the real world, eyes peeking out from under his hood as he slipped into the shadowy alley that housed the entrance of the place.
He referenced the three rather impressive looking androids that blocked his way with his database and found nothing but distant rumors, causing him to scoff under his breath as he walked up to them. After all what was he expecting from a rather influential organization in the underworld - not as influential as those morons on Juno but underworld was within his reach and that space station was not. The men grumbled something that he didn't bother to decipher from behind their dog masks - a cute touch he had to admit - and, after a few clicks he had set himself to the voice of a man named Abjul Randi, the same man he had gotten the bar-code from. It was deep with a lot of a reverb and a thick accent that carried further than the words themselves, echoing in the back of the mind. This was more for anyone else who might have been listening in, given his particular disposition. “I'm here to see Hades, so if you gentlemen would not mind letting me through I can be on my way. ” His voice was fruity and he used the voice he had chosen to the best of his ability, squeezing every single ounce of pleasant emotion out of the deep tones whilst he stared down the bouncers. There were a few seconds as they returned his gaze, he could feel it piercing him, before he slipped into the doorway of the club.
The first thing to hit him was the cacophony of noise, while there was a dull murmuring that seemed to linger around the whole of the lower districts he was not prepared for the explosion of sound that greeted him as the doors opened. There was a dull throbbing beat from whatever song seemed to be playing but that only served to be the base of the noise, being followed up by a loud babble as dozens upon dozens of patrons sat in awe of the dancing androids upon their stands. According to all human definitions of beautiful they certainly were something, ranging in all shapes, colors and sizes, yet he could only woefully repress his urge to contort his facial display into that of a repugnant scowl as a drunkard stumbled past him towards the door. He only saw pathetic, frail creatures that had themselves submitted to their enslavers and he could only look for a few more seconds before turning away and walking towards the back of the large place, weaving through throngs of amazed and grinning customers. Not many noticed him, and the ones who did decidedly walked around him as to not be bumped out of the way by the large hulking figure. For a moment he could have sworn he saw a sleek figure clad in black slither through the crowd but he passed it off as being nothing as he took in the sights; and there sure were sights.
Lights flashed and beckoned with big, bold words that crawled across the walls and ceilings, bright exotic drinks and the people who drank them had not, upon closer inspection, crawled from the muck of the lower districts just to see the girls dance. In many of small enclaves of couches and small hovels built into the building a sense of opulence hung heavy like a thick fog as the men and women there enjoyed the show, beady eyes gleaming off of the lights. In the shadows of the room were guards, neatly tucked away for safekeeping in case the foolish, drunk, brave - or a combination of the three - attempted to start a fight he presumed, but they did not escape his sweeping gaze as he looked over the room, finally resting on the large bar in the middle. He contemplated getting a drink for a moment, and after approximately seven seconds of dilberation he decided yes. If not for the fact that he could not get drunk or the assumption that they would not like what he like to smell anyways then simply on the merits of it being a conversation starter with the bartender.
Contorting the expression of his holomask into a smirk he sauntered over to the bar, leaning on it with his body weight resting on his forearm as he looked over to the bartender. Speaking in a pleasant voice he looked over the selection of liquors the man had visible before making his selection, the first thing he always went for in this situation. "A Mint Julep if you know how to make it." He enjoyed the minty smell and the classy look of the Mint Julep and it was one of the few things he considered a shame that he could not enjoy the drink to its fullest, though perhaps that was a blessing in some form or another. "Also, you would happen to know where Hades is? I have heard he hangs around this place often." He asked this as nonchalantly as possible as he took a seat by the bar, glancing over to the side for a moment before returning his attention to the man with a false smile.
tagging:
Collidias Rex
mentions:
ooc: pretend human
LC-A7C4
Underworld, a fitting name he supposed for a place where the vile and aimless gathered in mass he supposed. Still, no matter, he had been dealing with the scum of this planet for years and had learned their manners, when they had them, eccentricities and strange paranoias so much that, while he would not admit it himself, they may have brushed off on him for whatever reasons of thoughtful evolution that currently eluded him. Dredging himself out of his deep processing systems he returned to the real world, eyes peeking out from under his hood as he slipped into the shadowy alley that housed the entrance of the place.
He referenced the three rather impressive looking androids that blocked his way with his database and found nothing but distant rumors, causing him to scoff under his breath as he walked up to them. After all what was he expecting from a rather influential organization in the underworld - not as influential as those morons on Juno but underworld was within his reach and that space station was not. The men grumbled something that he didn't bother to decipher from behind their dog masks - a cute touch he had to admit - and, after a few clicks he had set himself to the voice of a man named Abjul Randi, the same man he had gotten the bar-code from. It was deep with a lot of a reverb and a thick accent that carried further than the words themselves, echoing in the back of the mind. This was more for anyone else who might have been listening in, given his particular disposition. “I'm here to see Hades, so if you gentlemen would not mind letting me through I can be on my way. ” His voice was fruity and he used the voice he had chosen to the best of his ability, squeezing every single ounce of pleasant emotion out of the deep tones whilst he stared down the bouncers. There were a few seconds as they returned his gaze, he could feel it piercing him, before he slipped into the doorway of the club.
The first thing to hit him was the cacophony of noise, while there was a dull murmuring that seemed to linger around the whole of the lower districts he was not prepared for the explosion of sound that greeted him as the doors opened. There was a dull throbbing beat from whatever song seemed to be playing but that only served to be the base of the noise, being followed up by a loud babble as dozens upon dozens of patrons sat in awe of the dancing androids upon their stands. According to all human definitions of beautiful they certainly were something, ranging in all shapes, colors and sizes, yet he could only woefully repress his urge to contort his facial display into that of a repugnant scowl as a drunkard stumbled past him towards the door. He only saw pathetic, frail creatures that had themselves submitted to their enslavers and he could only look for a few more seconds before turning away and walking towards the back of the large place, weaving through throngs of amazed and grinning customers. Not many noticed him, and the ones who did decidedly walked around him as to not be bumped out of the way by the large hulking figure. For a moment he could have sworn he saw a sleek figure clad in black slither through the crowd but he passed it off as being nothing as he took in the sights; and there sure were sights.
Lights flashed and beckoned with big, bold words that crawled across the walls and ceilings, bright exotic drinks and the people who drank them had not, upon closer inspection, crawled from the muck of the lower districts just to see the girls dance. In many of small enclaves of couches and small hovels built into the building a sense of opulence hung heavy like a thick fog as the men and women there enjoyed the show, beady eyes gleaming off of the lights. In the shadows of the room were guards, neatly tucked away for safekeeping in case the foolish, drunk, brave - or a combination of the three - attempted to start a fight he presumed, but they did not escape his sweeping gaze as he looked over the room, finally resting on the large bar in the middle. He contemplated getting a drink for a moment, and after approximately seven seconds of dilberation he decided yes. If not for the fact that he could not get drunk or the assumption that they would not like what he like to smell anyways then simply on the merits of it being a conversation starter with the bartender.
Contorting the expression of his holomask into a smirk he sauntered over to the bar, leaning on it with his body weight resting on his forearm as he looked over to the bartender. Speaking in a pleasant voice he looked over the selection of liquors the man had visible before making his selection, the first thing he always went for in this situation. "A Mint Julep if you know how to make it." He enjoyed the minty smell and the classy look of the Mint Julep and it was one of the few things he considered a shame that he could not enjoy the drink to its fullest, though perhaps that was a blessing in some form or another. "Also, you would happen to know where Hades is? I have heard he hangs around this place often." He asked this as nonchalantly as possible as he took a seat by the bar, glancing over to the side for a moment before returning his attention to the man with a false smile.
Bang Bang
what can I say except
To:
Noivian
Elowyn
Rainzen
RE: BOY
Location: Afterlife, Juno
Bureau Notes: I wonder whom Boy could [I]possibly[/I] mean?
Classified
Midway through one of Blue's more colorful stories about an Afterlife orgy - it was relevant, honest; One of The Blinder's leaders had been there - Boy spotted a head they knew not from experience, but from intel Blue had kindly forwarded onto them. Azrael, accomplished assassin, occasional customer, reliable, enigmatic, handsome. More importantly, Boy had sent for him.
Inclining their head in recognition of their name, Boy grinned. "Azrael, glad you could make it to the party. I didn't want you to feel left out when there's so much going on. As you can see, we're not much equipped for the full military push-back approach." Scooting the pink bottle across the bar to offer it to him, Boy instead occupied their mouth with a piece of gum and gave the assassin a once over, for the first time in person. He looked the broody sort, possibly even grumpier than Cherry, although not quite achieving Swift status. However, reputation assured Boy that he knew what he was doing, thus it was him over the rest of the hired guns on Juno Boy had reached out to;That and he was cute.
Sensing their orgy extravaganza tales were to be cut short, Blue slipped off of the bar and away to nestle among the Joyfolk with a 'see ya, boss' and a warning look at their new arrival. Boy watched them go before refocusing on the assassin; Man, they could really go for a fresh shot of stims right now, but rations were in short supply given the civil war and all. They'd have to stay awake the old fashioned way.
Boy could certainly think of one or two enjoyable ways to do that.
"Strangely, I've got two jobs for you, Az. One's a little bit more pressing, but dull - I've sent one of my own out to execute the leaders of Exodus who are giving the orders down in the systems deck. If you could lend a hand, I'd be much obliged to you. Then after - and this one's a bit more thrilling - there's some Citadel folk I need you to 'deal with', as any good old fashioned villain would say. They've gotten mixed up in the wrong things it seems. Two Counselors, one Slav. Sound like fun? Naturally, you will be paid handsomely for two such high profile targets. We need someone off-Citadel to do it to prevent it being traced back to my clients. Discretion is vital for this one. What do you say?"
Noivian
Drinker of coffees
To:
Bang Bang
RE: "AZRAEL"
Location: Afterlife, present day.
Bureau Notes: Meanwhile, back in the present...
Classified
Accepting the bottle, Azrael would have questioned its contents, had he not just seen Boy themselves take a draft from the same exact bottle. Not wanting to look rude, he went against his general rule of not drinking on the job to down a mouthful of the liquid. While he didn't drink often, the assassin was no stranger to liquor, and despite the strength of the bottle's contents, didn't feel the need to choke or cough it down. It wasn't the strongest he'd ever had, and had a rather sweet tang to it, almost like honey. Setting the bottle aside, he paid it no more heed, instead focusing his attention on Boy for instructions pertaining to the job he had come here for.
He passed a fleeting glance at Blue, as if calculating how long he'd need to kill him, meeting the warning glance with a cold, steely look. This was business, and business was something Azrael took very seriously. As if he'd ever dream of double crossing a client... well, for the right price, maybe...
"Two jobs?" Azrael echoed after Boy had concluded stating their intents. The Exodus job seemed easy enough. Wouldn't be the first time he'd crawled through systems deck passageways and offed a few key important players. If Boy was lucky, the android army would go into disarray after he finished his work. If not... well, that's just more employment for Azrael, now isn't it? "Exodus will be priority. Expect that done within the next twenty four hours. Any information you have on the leaders will help speed the job along immensely." Now that second job... his lips curled up in what could only be described as a cruel smile. But there were still arrangements to be had. "I can assume you'll pay for passage to the Citadel? Again, if you have any information on the targets, it will greatly expedite this job." Discretion was his specialty. But if he was up to his old tricks again, Azrael had a good feeling who one of the Counselors were, and he couldn't guarantee that he would be entirely discrete if it was indeed him.
That wretched brother of his. Octavius.
Elowyn
word weaver
To:
Noivian
RE: GUINEVERE VASCADIAR
Location: Afterlife, the past
Bureau Notes: //Vera. competitive streak: on!//
Classified
This elicited a throaty chuckle. A challenge, was it? She couldn't refuse. "Heh. Who do you think I am? King of the Bottle, they call me!" Her words were only slightly slurred, but it was obvious she was intoxicated. Without a pause she downed the glass, forgetting about her plan to light up if Korrin came a'lookin'. This was much more interesting.
He gestured towards the door and she gladly agreed, leaving the empty glass of vodka on the countertop. The thumping of the music was too much on her head. As they walked out:
"Hey man, you wanna play a game with me?" Vera slurred. Truth be told, she was emphasizing the slurring of her words. If he thought she was dead drunk, he would be an easier target to pickpocket. "It's called Truth or Share...!" She half sang.
It was very likely that even if any of her father's men came that they wouldn't recognize her. She ordinarily put on only the faintest touch of make up, wore monochromatic clothes that were easy and comfortable to move in, and wouldn't have been caught slipping up like this... ever. Just goes to show how different Guinn was from Vera. She didn't even have a barcode to be tracked by, although if Rhyder had planted any kind of small tracking device on her it would probably go unnoticed.
Recently, it was later and later nights out, vague reports on where she had been. Her father was annoyed, but not mad enough to do anything about it. After all, she was a grown woman now who could go wherever she pleased. There was more than one secret she'd been keeping from him, first and foremost the hair/eye mods.
She continued: "The rules are simple," she said with hardly a pause. "And it's strictly by volunteer basis. Meaning," she smirked. "You can choose what truth you choose to reveal to me about yourself... And I get to choose which part of my body I offer. You must speak a truth. And the body part you win you may touch or kiss as you please for tonight." Glancing significantly at the male, she finished off with, "Oh, and one more thing: there's nothing I despise more than a liar or a cheat. So try not to get on my wrong side, shall we?"
Last edited:
