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Bang Bang

Flibbidy Gibbet
Incoming File ...
To: @KnightSergeant
RE: KATHERINE

Location: Cosy Cafe, L14
Bureau Notes: information redacted for safety
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Feeling the Admiral's eyes on her the whole time did nothing to ease Katherine's nerves. She was nervous for two reasons now, one wholly justified, the other the reason she was here at all, doing this. "Thank you," she murmured, running her finger about the rim of her mug before, deciding she was in greater need of distraction, she plucked one of the two forks up and with it took a small corner off of the cake. "I must ask also that, for now, you refrain from questions. I promise to answer them all, but... it's a difficult story to tell. For us both." Glancing to the grumpy barista, Kat smiled a little. "And do not worry, this place is safe from outside eyes and ears. One of my own private indulgences with the provided funds; I confess, I'm rather like a child when it comes to sweet things. I don't know why, I never was before— ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ."

And with that, Kat began her story. "I suppose the easiest place to start is with myself. I- well." She had to look elsewhere, because as she truly faced what she had to say, she knew that within a handful of minutes, the Admiral would be looking at her not with the gaze of someone who'd call her 'Kat', but rather with the eyes of someone intended to shoot her at the first chance they got. "▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇." Kat laughed nervously, drawing a meaningless shape in the air with her fork. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ so- I suppose starting there is a good idea. You must understand," Katherine interrupted herself suddenly, looking up at the Admiral in alarm, "you can tell no-one about this. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. They don't even need it in the first place, not really. I think the ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. I'm not telling you so that you can spread the word; I'm telling you so that you can act accordingly. If you really take the throne— well. At least... ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇."

"This will sound delusional, I know ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ - please, just, bear with me for a moment. None of us are.▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. It's hard to explain... ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ I suppose, or there about. That's why we chose ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇." Kat was no longer meeting the Admiral's eyes on any occasion, keeping them glued to the cake as she whittled it down tiny piece by tiny piece, not even eating, just cutting. "▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ There were those among us who were sympathetic ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ When we ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. It took decades— ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ But, we did not."

"I'm sorry this is so long, but I want you to understand;▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ Not most of us, anyway. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ Not to begin with. You see, ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ How they kept it secret from us for all that time, I'll never know. Spite, probably. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ - ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇which is why we were, at the beginning, ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ We were getting close too, I think. And then ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ came."

"▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ carefully and delicately ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, ensure▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, and then and only then, ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. We were supposed to initiate a▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, and in return, ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ I- I'm one of the lucky ones. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ from ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ transferred ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. It's not ideal— ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ But it was all we could do, given the circumstances. But then ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, and then there was of course ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. We didn't... we didn't see that one coming. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇."

"▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ three years ago. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. Back in my old life, ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. Thus, ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. I spent two years studying you. Two years reading psychological profiles and articles and classified briefs and the Eyes' psychoanalysis and threat evaluations. I was not lying when I said I admired you greatly. But... well. I don't really know why I'm telling you any of this. I shouldn't be. Obviously. I've known you all of ten days, but... ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. Actually meeting you. It's not just a game of strategy anymore. I can't- I don't want you,▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, to be harmed. You know, ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. We assumed▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. Seeing that fall short... I suppose, unconvincing as it may sound, that gave me hope▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇. ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ is another matter."

Her tone, which had been melancholy, apologetic, sentimental, now turned to one of facts and business, taking on urgency as she learned forth in her seat and met Lyud's gaze levelly. "I'm telling you all this because ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇— and if ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ does not stand a chance."
 

SadSnake

Danger noodle
Incoming File ...
To: @Mykinkaiser @Rusty Kerman
RE: Anne

Location: The wastes
Bureau notes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9s1ltPGQOo&
LORE | CHARACTERS

ClassifiedSomething was wrong. Despite being high on the drugs, she could tell. The presentator that was there moments ago had just suddendly disappeared. Her flashy, colourfull surrounding melted into what looked like to be a slum. Her arms were freed from some bondage she didn't even notice before- And something cold entered her arm, making her yelp. It would be quite the feat to not be confused at the sudden changes, and she blinked slowly, trying to register what was going on.

"My name is Isaac and I'm here to help get you two out of here." Her savior took on a muscular, covered in armor form.. his helmet was still on. Reminded her of that.. uh... Halo looking guy... tinkmaster cheif? Anyways.. she needed to escape with him. Fortunately (?) her drugged up mind didn't need to question anything. She'd just roll with anything thrown her way. All that thinking took her a few seconds of blankly looking infront of her, before glancing at the soldier, quickly standing up and stumbling. The way her eyes darted from place to place and never really crossed Isaac's gaze would be an obvious indication that she wasn't all there. And he probably knew just how permanent some side effects of those drugs might be..
 

ReverseTex

Young, Not Dumb, But Broke




LOGIN




JAMIE AU OLVER
















1




2




3












IMPERIAL ARCHIVES








ACCESS RESTRICTED




Verifying Login Credentials ...




...




Authorized.




Event Overview:








Area of Concern: The Gala




Foreword: (OOC here)




















Classified
The Emperor had his eyes closed, exhausted from the previous exchange, as both his daughter and guard entered in. Allowing them to take their respective seats, he knew Athena would be the first to snap. Riley was raised tough, she could handle the punches. So could Athena, but it was her job to be argumentive with him. And so she was...



“From what intelligence is telling me Athena it appears a benefactor has been of use. Supplying K1SMET and other radical causes...” Opening his good eye as Athena digressed into self desire and the cataclysmic events of the week, Jamie sighed. “Your place is wherever I assign you to be Athena. If it’s revenge you want, I’ll let you execute the benefactor once we’ve got them in our hands. Hell you can go lead a squad after this is all over that’s completely fine!” Slamming another shaken hand on his desk not out of anger, but stress. He was stressing. “Your orders are to stay by my side unless ordered otherwise...” Jamie’s tone grew softer after the outburst, afraid he’d snap at any minute...



“Daddy are you okay?”



Jamie casted away the role of Emperor for a moment, hearing the sound of his daughters voice in that tone concerned him . “No I’m not alright... But I’ll manage.” “We need a plan we need a plan we need a plan. Jamie. Jamie don’t shut me out. WE NEED A PLAN!” He knew the voice was right, he didn’t have a plan. No epic scheme, no convoluted trap. He had nothing... For a moment he paused, staring off into nothing as his mind turned circles...



Suddenly, he had it. It. It would have to do. The last breath of a dying dynasty really... But it was worth a shot. Standing up, he gestured for the others to follow suit. “Athena, take me to the assassin girl. I wish to speak with her alone. Riley, gather Wilhelm and escort him to my office, personally. He’s a good man but don’t let him toy you around with words, he tends to be good at that.” Emeperor Jamie au Olver had no plan, but he was famous for one thing. Improvising.





File:
EMPEROR JAMIE AU OLVER












Re:
NAME2


To: USER














Writing
Sample




















 

Collidias Rex

Proficient with Plot Armor and Natural Weapons.
Incoming File ...
To: @Bang Bang @Sir Galahad II @ShadowBroker
RE: KELLO

Location: Kismet HQ
Bureau Notes: Gauntlet Status: Down-thrown
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Kello hummed a tune as she put a sandwich together. By no means did she need to eat, but she needed distractions from the nightmare parade of the last week. Who'd have thunk the little squawky things could be so tasty?

She cast a suspicious glance at the lettuce sitting on the bench beside her. She didn't understand the stuff. It was ... some kind of appetizer? A garnish? It didn't have much flavor to it at all. She didn't see why anybody would buy the leafy rubbish.

Sprinkling a half-handful of shredded chicken into her sandwich, she picked it up and strode back into the living room, taking a vicious bite out of the corner. Out of the corner of the sandwich. Not out of the living room.

She paused as she came into the view of Genesis and his little Harem SWAT team. She lingered, chewing for a while before delivering a greeting. Two decades of experience told her not to talk with her mouth full. She swallowed, and gave a short wave. "Morning."

For a moment she considered asking about Glitch, who seemed to be skulking about in the kitchen. Perhaps she could get away with a snarky question, but the android had become uncharacteristically distant. Kello wasn't exactly the biggest fan of Glitch and her ... ways, but even Kello knew when someone needed to be left alone.

"So, what's on the menu today?"

As if right on cue, the radio in the corner of the room flickered to life.

"People of the Citadel." it crackled, and Kello sighed. Great. Another one of these bloody speeches. But ... whose voice was that? It wasn't the Emperor's.

She glanced at Genesis, shrugged, and took a seat, squeezing in-between Ne Zha and the armrest. She sat, and she listened.

The name she didn't recognize, but she knew the rhetoric.

"Another fucking fence-sitter." She hissed. "Killing people is bad? Jesus christ, we got a modern-day Aristotle on our hands. How fucking deep."

She had sat down with the intent of simply mocking the speechmaker in her head, but - though she didn't want to admit it - the man managed to have an effect on her. Admittedly, it certainly wasn't the effect he seemed to me aiming for.

What a load of shit. Politicians had an amazing ability to say absolutely fucking nothing in as many words as possible. She bit her tongue and kept quiet - the man's ramblings unfolded into some kind of political maneuver, and it was probably important that Genesis hear it, not that Kello herself understood the ramifications of a secession. The note on MG-users perked her attention for a moment. Shit, that could really go either way. How many magi did K1SMET have on their side? How many did the Emperor have? She bit her lip and glanced to Genesis again, searching for a reaction.

"Finally, a note to K1SMET ..."

Kello leaned forward in her seat.

"We would be glad to work alongside you, as in our view, any thinking, feeling personage is entitled to these same rights. If we accomplish our goal of the deposition of Au Olver, the result would be a society that fully recognized Androids as the equal of humans. However, this road runs both ways - if we are to work with you, these tactics of terror must cease."

Of course. Of course a fucking politician would say that. Absolutely clueless.

"Innocent civilians are being harmed, in the name of "freedom." Ask yourselves: Are you becoming that which you most despised? Thank you all for listening. Glory to the people. Glory to Liberty. Look to the future with hope and courage - remember what you are fighting for. If any of those among you are religious, pray. Pray that truth and honor will win the day. Good night."

...

...

"I fucking hate that guy." Kello stood up and paced behind the couch, clawing at her brow. She growled and made a circle around both couches. The aggression in her stride was clear as day, and she looked as if she might kick something over at a moment's notice. "I can't ... god I hate him. Who does he-"

And at that moment, the door opened. Kello paused, and her head snapped to the intruding figure. She mouthed his name silently. Rob. She hadn't seen him a lot this past week. He was supposed to show for an op of hers. He didn't. She'd spoken to Genesis, who confirmed that the man was still alive and well, but she hadn't asked him where he was, or why he didn't show.

Rob marched into the room like a man on a mission, and threw something on the table. The screen lit up, and a figure appeared. Just a figure, not much more than that. No remarkable or familiar features, just some girl. Was she someone Genesis knew?

"Can anyone tell me who this is?"

Kello glanced at the maidens. She didn't find much recognition there.

"This is Sarah Martinez. She's about seven years old, four feet tall, black hair. She'd be in class by now if she and several dozen other pedestrians weren't mowed down by a stolen shipment of produce this morning. She's one girl out of four million."

Rob ... Rob, you knew what you were getting into. Kello's fists balled at her sides, but she felt a pang of ... sorrow. Dammit, get yourself together. Don't get hung up on this.

"Do you recognize these colors, Genesis?" Rob waved his jacket for the room to see. Kello felt another pang of sorrow. That had been her jacket for a long time now. That had been a piece of her ethos, a piece of inspiration. She silently begged him, please don't take this from me. Surely he wasn't going to do anything rash. "These are the colors of my nation. My ancestors, too, fought tyranny. And they won. The difference is that they didn't commit atrocity to achieve that."

... au Arcon. Rob had heard Nicholas au Arcon's speech.

"Consider this my resignation letter."

"No!" Kello slammed a boot into the floorboards, and she marched forward. "You don't get to say that! Au Arcon doesn't get to say that! Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Rob was a big man, but Kello was far from a pushover. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall as red plastered her face. Tears of rage bubbled at the corners of her eyes and her lips warped into a snarl.

"Killing people is bad! We know that! You think we haven't tried a peaceful approach? We have tried, Rob! We! Have! Tried!" She shook his shoulders with those last three words. "Do you know what happens when we try a peaceful approach? We get fucking murdered for being defective. For disobeying the wishes of our human masters! You want to play this game, let's play this fucking game!"

Kello shoved a hand into her pocket and stepped back. She tore free a wallet, and leafed through it quickly, drawing out a picture.

"THIS was my friend! Her name was Katya! She once broke fractured a client's hips, by accident. Do you know what they did to her? They dragged her away, they wiped her personality, and they threw her back to me as a fucking SHELL! We'd been friends for three years, and she didn't recognize me! She didn't recognize anyone! They killed her, they propped her corpse up with some techno-puppeteering, and they kept selling her body to be fucked for another eight months. And the best part is, I have more of these. I have dozens of stories just like this! I am sick to fucking death of my people being compliant, and being fucking killed for it by people who couldn't care one way or the other!"

She jabbed an arm in the direction of the radio. "Where was he? Where was Au Arcon for the last decade when we needed him? Nowhere! Probably fucking around in his noblus estates like the rest of them! The only reason he cares now, is because the empire has been thrown into chaos and he sees an opportunity to seize control, like all the other fucking politicians! Kismet has done the dirty work of rising up against the empire, we've bitten the bullet and made sacrifices- ... painful sacrifices ... and this fucker wants to ride in on the back of our work and claim a moral high ground? And preach fucking peace and happiness? He wouldn't have a chance at succeeding if it weren't for our willingness to kill for what we believe in! He's an opportunist, just watch! He'll gather his little army of MG-users and hide while we fight against the Empire, and once the hard part is out of the way he'll rear his cowardly head and tell us that we're the bad guys. Well, I don't see him doing anything to stop the Empire. Fuck!"

She grabbed her hair and tugged, screaming. She whipped around and stomped into the middle of the room.

"We have tried being peaceful, Rob." She turned around, but this time, for just a moment, the anger was gone. Tears ran down her cheeks, her eyes gleamed with a lost, hopeless fear. "We have tried so, many, times, and all we've gotten is more pain. Each and every time, our willingness to use diplomacy has been exploited. They shut us down every single time, because we wanted to be free - but we were unable to fight for that freedom. They beat us back into submission simply because they could. Because they didn't care."

She clenched her eyes and inhaled. When she opened her eyes again, the fury had reignited within them.

"I will fight. I will fight, because I will not see my people eradicated. I will not see my people enslaved. I don't kill people out there because I think they're worthless - I know they have families, and loved ones, and friends. I go out there and I kill people, because I think at the end of the day, in the grand scheme of things ... this cause is worth it. It's worth the pain I cause them and it's worth the pain I cause myself. Fighting hurts, Rob. It hurts in a million different ways, in a million different places. It hurts your body, it hurts your heart, it hurts your soul. It hurts those around you. That's why it's so goddamn difficult to keep fighting. But we keep doing it anyway, because someone has to do the right thing no matter how much they don't want to."

She marched up to Rob and stopped a foot away from him.

"Give me back that coat."

She stared into his eyes as her hands balled at her sides.

"If you aren't willing to fight for what you believe in, then you don't deserve to wear it."
 
Last edited:
Incoming File ...
To: (@ReverseTex @Collidias Rex @Sir Galahad II @Noivian @Brook @SadSnake @Rusty Kerman @ShadowBroker@ThisUsernameIsALie @Mykinkaiser @Misuteri Kenshi @Laughing Lunatic @RiverGamer @Gmyza @Nadja Kramer @KnightSergeant@Croaker @Roach of Wrath @Squire @YumenoTsukishiro )
RE: Nicholas Au Arcon

Location: (St Agatha's; Unidentified safehouse in the Market Levels)
Bureau Notes: (Nicholas may be slightly inspired by Charles De Gaulle. Again sorry for the long post, just skip to the latter bit for the plot relevant stuff. Oh, and whoever thinks they've cracked the last bit, hit me up.)
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
St. Agatha's Home for the Societally Dysfunctional.

The austere gray letters sat serenely over the entrance to the asylum Nicholas was facing, inspiring a sort of wonder in him. Who in the galaxy was possibly capable of creating such a dumb name? Imperial bureaucrats, of course, but this was a particularly splendid case of idiocy. This was was conveniently proven when he stepped inside the sleek, clinically white room that served as a guest lobby. Echoing screams could be heard throughout, seemingly coming from all three corridors that lined the room. Evidently, "Dysfunctional" was an extremely polite way of saying (as Nicholas once heard a student say) "out of their effin' skulls."

A twinge of guilt plucked at him as an extremely tired-seeming orderly bustled among the numerous guests that waited. Everyone here was a Noblus, yes, including the patients, and God above knew that every one of them had done bad things in their lives, but their screams, their agony right now, that was because of Nicholas. He spotted an elderly woman burst into tears as the orderly refused to let her see her technomancer grandchild - too high a risk of violence. He pondered over the same words he had asked K1SMET: Was he becoming that which he despised?

No. He'd come here to stop this mess, and he wouldn't allow his own guilt and mistakes stop him from rectifying his wrong.

Finally, the orderly came to him, and recognition lit up her eyes. She had been told he would arrive. Quickly, she ushered him behind the desk and into the rooms behind it. Nurses and doctors flew by, demanding when more sedative would arrive, and cursing as they heard that no usable MGs had yet arrived, snapped up by the remnants of the military and secret police. All the Noblus were of the smaller houses - too important to dismiss out of hand, but too irrelevant to give the few remaining MGs.

Nicholas eventually arrived to the office of the Head Doctor, and was ushered inside, with the door shut behind him. Ahead of him sat a gaunt looking lady, who looked as if she was approaching her 50s, though rejuvenation was likely to thank for that. However, they could nothing for what she now went through: constantly tending to an overflow of patients, and their Noblus kin who demanded that their patient was the most important. When she looked up at Nicholas, it was with a mix of anger, worry, and hopefulness. His message had been cryptic, but potentially promising.

Their talk was long, and riddled with disagreements, logistics, and technicalities. Angry words were spoken, and Nicholas flinched with each set, the truth of them digging in, deservedly so. But in the end, all was set up, and he made a call to one of his own techies. The doctor stepped out for a minute to oversee the delivery, but Nicholas remained, calling all those he could to speed the distribution.

Perhaps an hour later, the doctor having pulled him out to confer with a small army of nurses and surgeons about how to install the devices, the screams riddling the place faded. There were still some, of course - not everyone here was a techie, and these devices had been rushed through production, but things were quite better. A sigh escaped the lips of Nicholas. The first step had been done. Now for the next.

The Head, not allowing herself a spared moment when there was still more to do, sent the least-occupied orderly to guide Nicholas to the room he desired. Going down the now much-quieter halls, he stopped outside a quiet, seemingly indistinct white door. Passing through it, he met a former student. A wide smile spread across his lips. They had work to do.

* * * * *

Later

* * * * *​

Their safehouse had moved, but the same innocuous microphone sat in front of Nicholas. His hand did not waver, this time. He took it up resolutely, and just as before, his voice resounded throughout the Citadel.

"Hello again, people of the Citadel. It is Nicholas Au Arcon, spokesman of the True Empire, once more. I come before you to ask forgiveness, and offer penance. When I first disabled the MGs the Noblus and Military possessed, I understood the weight of what I was doing. I let good men and women who cannot help the circumstances of their birth or need for financial security suffer so as to buy more time to prepare, to serve my own agenda, forcing people to comply to my ideals or else they would suffer. I was becoming that which I despised."

"Therefore, our finest techs, scientists, and researchers have provided a solution, one that has long been worked but not perfected: GSI, or Gene Suppression implants. These items, essentially heavily modified MGs, allow the magically sensitive to suppress the negative symptoms of their genes, at the cost of utilizing their powers. These devices, which both we and medical centers throughout the Citadel are now working to produce and distribute, will be distributed without question of political allegiance or social background. Priority will be handled thusly: Technomancers, followed by Warpers, followed by Shockers, as determined by severity of symptoms. Demand will far outstrip supply at first, but we are doing everything within our power to produce more as rapidly as we can. Please note that the implants, to be placed at one’s temple, are fully removable and will not impair later MG use."

-Muffled words interrupt the transition, and the clearing of a throat is eventually heard-

"The representative of those medical centers which are aiding in distribution would like me to take this opportunity to add that they have, as a group, hold no allegiance to the True Empire. They merely want the best for the people they serve. No matter who you fight for or what you believe in, please do not interfere with their work."

"Thank you for listening once again, Citadel. From hence forth, thanks to my techie's services being demanded on the production line, all future broadcasts will be held on alternative sources. Glory to the People. Glory to the True Empire. Good day."

-A short burst of static occurs before the following words are heard, with an as yet unheard female voice as the speaker. A significant pause occurs between each one-

"Able."

"Abbey."

"Miasma."

"Apocrypha."

"Lacking."

"Agilic."

"Admit."

-Another burst of static-

"Today's words are operable for two hours. Glory to the True Empire."
 
location: L14
tagging:
mentions: @Bang Bang
ooc:



Admiral Taela



It was an eerie feeling, having someone explain ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀. With every word at least ten questions pressed against her lips, pushing to spill out into the open air and brush against her ears, but she had made her bed and proceeded to lie in it, listening patiently as she - ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ - went on. She almost felt revulsion, though she didnt know if it was due to the fact that she had been lied to, fell for it, or was in the ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ from a ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀...▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀. What she knew she definitely felt was frustration. Twenty two hours, as if she was not already at her wits end planning for a now seemingly ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ as she knew it. The soldiers would be tired, the supplies strained, the munitions low and the chances of success even lower. Lastly, squirming its way into the back of her head was a smidgen of fear, blacker than the darkest night, corrupting and violating every thought it touched. ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ as Katherine - disgust filled her mouth at the thought of her name, almost causing her to spit - had described.

With pursed lips she slowly raised her head, leveling it with the others, her eyes bright and her expression taut as anger swelled through her body like a great fire rising to the surface. Even her expression, usually so stoic, had contorted into a visage wrought by annoyance and anger as she spit her response out like a bad piece of food. "▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀" She took pause, glancing over the other once more before standing up as gracefully as usual, looking down for a final mental snapshot before speaking again. "And for your sake you better be gone by the time I am back."
 

Rusty Kerman

Idiot on the moon.
Incoming File ...
To: (@SadSnake @Mykinkaiser )
RE: Tekto

Location: (Where the hell am I?!)
Bureau Notes: (Drugs are bad, 'mkay.)
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Tekto looked up as he saw a man shoot his captors. "Damn... Good shooting." As the man helped Tekto get up and injected him with something, He had a dopey smile on his face. "Dude... Im trippin' balls..." In a small moment of clarity in his substance altered mind, he remembered about his suit and plasma cutter. He quickly scrambled over to the other side of the room and put his suit on. "I 'aint leaving this behind." He snatches up his plasma cutter from a the EYE and picks up a pistol off of one of the guards. He then followed the man and Anne, Nonchalantly walking behind the two. "Im as high as a kite and the tree house is on fire." In his
stupor he fails to notice Anne and the man stop at a corner and he walks right into view of a guard. Said guard was not paying attention in the slightest. Tekto quickly draws the pistol and aims it at the guard. "AHA I have you now you fiend!" He pulls the trigger and the magazine falls out of the gun and onto the floor. The guard, Lets call him Joe just stared at the strange man. There is a awkward silence and stare between the two men for a good 5 to 10 seconds before Tekto acts. Tekto then flung his arm in the air, dropping the gun and ran behind Isaac screaming. Joe just shrugged and went back to reading his book.
 

Bang Bang

Flibbidy Gibbet
Incoming File ...
To: @KnightSergeant
RE: KATHERINE

Location: Cosy Cafe, L14
Bureau Notes: information redacted for safety
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Kat had expected the Admiral to be angry; anything else would have been both out of character and beyond the realms of the rational. Nonetheless, it still hurt somewhere in her abdomen to see the look of abject hatred in the other's eyes.

When the Admiral rose, Kat did not let her go as she should have done. She too jumped up, too fast and too jerky, like they'd known each other years, as if she had a reason to be this affected. She did not recall ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ; there, they'd been slower, heavier, dull aches and pleasant breezes. Though she did not know▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ of the present experiences, she found these better compared to kicks, to the gut, the center of her chest, or the adrenaline rush of deadly pursuit. Yet she was merely in a coffee-shop, perfectly able to pretend none of this had ever happened, and to ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ .

In theory, anyway. The tightness in her throat hinted at the knowing she had that she stood no chance of doing either of those things now. Which was, as previously concluded, insanity. That same insanity brought her to grabbing onto the Admiral's wrist and tugging her back. "Listen, you cannot tell anyone. I▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ , which they always do, they won't bother. They'll ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ , go ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ and▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ . This has to be played carefully. The moment▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ , that something isn't going as it should, ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ l. Which is why—" Swallowing, Kat met Lyud's glare, hurtful as it was to see the revulsion there. "Which is why you need me. The only chance you have of ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ . And I'm about ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ . So please, let me help you. You must know I wouldn't tell you this for any other reason. You must know I-" She stopped short, unsure of where that sentence finished even herself. "I am here ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ For all of us. But to get there, you need me to help you."

Still holding onto the Admiral's wrist tightly, Kat gave her what could accurately be described as puppy eyes, although this time she wasn't simulating reactions for the sake of manipulation. "Please say yes. I don't... I don't know what to do otherwise."
 

Misuteri Kenshi

[ Futurist ][ PDC Operator ]
Incoming File ...
To: @Laughing Lunatic @Bang Bang @Mykinkaiser @ShadowBroker @Brook @SadSnake @ReverseTex @Collidias Rex
Marcus

Location: Julian's Place --> Jeanne's Location
Bureau Notes: Always gotta keep people waiting eh?
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
The door opened to Julian who just looked like he had woken up from at least 2 days of non stop sleep. Julian queried his well being "I'm fine Julian and no I haven't broken anything....yet" Steeping inside he heard Saia's voice notifying Julian of 2 emails. Marcus guessed that he got the same two emails as he did, since that the most likely case. Looking back at it, he shouldn't have trusted Genesis as much as he did. Now he despised him with every inch of being. He knew he should've taken Gwens message seriously but alas, it was too late now. Switching back to the present, he looked around the place, seeing that it hadn't changed in a while. Julian had looked at his own emails and had the same disgusted look that Marcus had when he found out about what Genesis had done. A ping was heard, Marcus checked his phone, only to realise that it wasn't his, but in fact Julian's and took the chance to make a slight joke to life the mood "Who's the mister popular eh?"

Apparently, the message that Julian received was from none other than the friendly neighborhood doctor. Julian explained the message to him, and wanted Marcus to head along as well. While getting to L1 was important, he should have enough time on his hands to deal with whatever the doc wanted them to deal with. Hopefully it wasn't as bad as he imagined it, though he never really knew what to expect. Getting himself back to the door, he opened it again, only now waiting for Julian to get himself ready and somewhat ready to go. If he didn't fall asleep when Marcus turned away for more than half a second.
 

Laughing Lunatic

*Cue Crazy Laughter*
Julian Serpentine
Location: Home (Market/industiral)
@Misuteri Kenshi
@SadSnake @Mykinkaiser

At the ping, and the joke leaving Marcus, Julian smiled, before shrugging, and picking his phone. It was a Doc, the guy who had patched him up practically a week prior. He looked at the message, and sniggered slightly. It was just so abrupt, and it was so Doc. He looked to Marcus Briefly, before starting to pack. "Sorry dude, but Something came up. Doc sent me a text to help someone out. something about their MG being broken. I have the location, but MG means magic. Well, I've done more Illegal things, so I suppose It's fine." He shrugged with a slight smile, but lost it to a worried frown. "I do hope that whoever were meeting is alright. MGs are usually there to help control their powers, and possibly keep them sane." Julian explained. "Well, from my understanding of them. They're horribly complex. Shockers have nothing on MGs. I may have to re-make it, or make my own substitute until I can get it properly fixed." He started muttering to himself, almost forgetting that Marcus was there. but he was with the guy for a good few days while he repaired the shocker, so he was probably either unaffected or used to the 'Weird Muttering of Julian Serpentine' tm.

After he got the general stuff for fixing anything on the go as well as a medical bag, just in case, and looked at Marcus who had opened the door. "Well, lets go. Hopefully this wont take all day, and we can get this sorted out quickly. Oh I should probably text Doc back." He added, and pulled out his phone after locking his door.

Doc
them
This is Seamus. The girl who was with us 10 days ago had her MG fuck up. Go fix it.
me
On my way with Marcus. MG's arn't easy to fix, but I'll try my best.
me
By the way, if you're heading up to L1, can you inform 'G' that me and Marcus might be late if we're not there? Thanks!

After the sent messages, they headed down to the location, which was in the shadow districts in one of the many, many, many alleyways. Eventually, the found someone laying in an alleyway. When Julian took a closer look it was the girl from before. He never caught her name, but something with a J perhaps? He was about to run up to her, when Hera spoke up. "Julian, don't. Approach slowly and calmly. She could be highly unstable with her MG broken." Hera advised. Julian nodded, even though Hera couldn't really see him, and approached the girl slowly, as he he was getting closer to a wild cat or dog. He had done this multiple times, his love for animals made it hard for him to not try to befriend any and all fluffy creatures. "Hey there, I'm here to help. You're MG is broken, and I'm here to fix it. Just stay calm, can you do that for me?" He said, in the most soothing voice he could attempt. His posture was forcefully relaxed, ready in case she decided to snap at him. from the looks of things, she had hurt herself in some way with a bloody hand and blood running down the girls face. Thank god for the Medical kit.
 

SadSnake

Danger noodle
1533556113721.png
Incoming File ..
To: @ Laughing Lunatic @Misuteri Kenshi
RE; JeAnne

Locations:
Bureau note: [inlineSpoiler/inlineSpoiler]
LORE | CHARACTERS

cLASSIFFIED
No more whisper .Jeanne was happy .Despite the burning, throbbing pain that had filled her entire body ,she was smiling..erac t'ndid ehS .kcab reh tsniaga tser dluow roolf eht eb ot desu tahw taht os ,seerged 09 denrut dlrow elohw eht ,yldnedduS
The whispers were gone. And the fancing, colourful lights dancing infront of her eyes were pretty.. she started to giggle madly. Her brain assaulted by irresistible joy. Jeanne was happy. But soon, said hapiness was cut short as she saw a familiar silhouette. ...him again. She snarled at the arrivant. Why was he always following her! Making her feel bad, messing everything up..she snapped her jaw at her old companion, in what she thought was an intilimating manner. Why was he still haunting her? What did she do wrong?!? As she glared at her old friend, she remembered something. Her Jbdelmu emmory acdeellr her agikmn a eimoprs- Seh 'anstw ersu ahtw eimorps, or ot how.. btu it defill het agps. It adh ot be him. She was just as quickly overwhelmed by a crushing sadness. She had failed him. She had failed everyone. She had even failed herself. She was going to die here. She was going to die here. She was going to die here. Jeanne curled up in a ball and whimpered, starting to cry as suddendly as she laughed. "I'm sorry I didn't hold my promise.." Frơm ͠th̶e̕ ͢co̧r̛ner̨ ̸



of h̵er ̴e̵y͝e-́ S̵h͡e ͡s҉p̕otte͜d͏ s͢ǫmeòn͞e b̢e̶hin̵d̶ him̢.̀ I̛t was͏ har̷d ͡t͡o̡ se̵e ͡t͞hr̴oug͟h͝ he̛r t҉ear͏s͟, b͜u̡t ̀s͏h҉ȩ mán̶ag͜e͝d͢ t͠o ̴s̛e҉e̵ ̴w̡hat͘ ͝it̕ ́ẁas. ̵It ͝was.͡.͞ ̷a̷ wo̶l̷f͝.
S̵o͜͞ḿ̸e̕ ̷̨͟ki̡͝n͟͠d͏͠ ̛͢͝o͝͝͞f̷͜ ̛h͟u̷͟m̶ą̀͝n ̷͠ĺ̛͞ó͡o҉͘͝ki̷̢n̢͟g̵̀͜ ̴̴͝wo͞l̵̨f͟.̛͞ ̵͠Ḩ͢͞e̸̡̛r̶̛ ҉o҉͘w̡̧n͘͟.͡.̵̢͢ ͞s̸͘ui̷t?̸ ͡I̡t̨͏ ̡͘͜ĺ̷o̡o̕k͠͠ed͘͜ ̀àńg͞͏͟r̶̕̕y͏.̛͘҉ ̧̢Sh͟҉e ̛c͏̨l̢͏ơ̕śed̷͜ ̛h̸͟e̢r̵ ̀e̵ye͝s͟ a̸̢̕n̵d̸͝ ̸s̴ḩiv̢er̶̶̨e҉͏d.̸̧͞ ͡E̕v̴̴̷e̸̶n̸͜͡ ̧wi̧̨͞t̷̀h͢o͢u͢͠͝t̴ ͞se̸͟ei̶ńg͏ a̢̛n̨͘͟ý͠ţ̀h̨̛i̢n͜͏ǵ̴- ҉S̀h̢ȩ͠ ҉̢͡c̕o̢͠ul̴̵d̴̀ f̶͜ee͏͏l̀ t̷͜ḩ̧e̵ ̕w̧҉̢ólf͠.͞͏ ̨̛Į̡̕t̸ ́ẃ͜à̡ş̷ ́͘com͞ing̶ c͢l̵̛ơs̸̛e͞r̷̕.̷ I̛͏͜t͘͢͢͡ ̷̡w҉̀a̛͘s̴̶͜ ̵͘͠͝c̕͢o̡m̡͠͏́̕i͘҉́͠͡n҉̵̴g̸͢͞ ̨͡͡f̴̧̀͟o̷̵r҉̸̷̶͡ ́̕҉h͞è͜r̶̶̷̶.̀́҉́͝ ̵̶̀̀S̶͜h̷̕͡e̴͡ ̵̵̢f̸̡̛̛r̸o̡͝͏z̶̴͘͟͝è̶̷͞ ̵̷i̸̢̛͢͞ņ͟҉҉̧ ́͘t͜͡͠͏e͏͟͞r̸̀r̨͟͜o̧͘r̶̴̶̵̢,̸҉͜ ̵̡͏̶p̨̛͡ę̸̀r͠҉̀̀f̨͝e͏͞͏ç̨͘͝҉t̶͢͠l̡͏͘y̡҉́ ҉̷͘͟s̸͘t̀͢͝i͢͠l̸̀͟͞l̷͝,̷̸ ͞҉͘͏͢ú̡̡n҉̷͞҉͞t̸̨̛҉í̴͝l̸̨̕͝ ̵̢̢͡s͘h̀͞e͜͡͞ ̀͠͡h̴̛e̛̛͡͞͏a̢͞͏̸́r҉̵͘͝ḑ ̡͢a̢͘͡ ̴͟ļ̢̨͞ǫ̸̨ú̷̕̕͘d̢̨͘ ͘͢͝͠ḩ̴͜ò͡͡͞w͏̧l̵̴̢͜ ̨͠t̶͝h̴̨̨͟͝a̵͏̶̡t̴̶͘ ҉҉m̡҉a̵̧͠d̡̧̡̕͟e̸͘ ̴̴͝h̷̛͡e̢̨͝r̷̡̢̧̧ ̡́̕͠j́e̛r̵͢͢k҉ ̴͘͜͡͠į̢͡ń̶̛ ͏̶ś̸̢͟҉u̡̕r̶̡̕͞p̶͢҉͘͠ŗ̶̡̡́i̵̷͘͢͢s̶̕͠e̸͜ ̛͞á̢́̀n҉̧d̶҉͜ ̷̡̢̢́c͟͠҉̨҉r̷̷̢y͘ ̡̡̀́͠ó̸́͜u̷̶̡͢͠t̡̀͜͟.̢͟͞ ̸̡̧͢͡S̷̨͜h҉̨ę̸ ̧̡̛̀͏ò̵p͟͞͝e͏͘͝ņ̷̵e҉̢͠d͜͟ ̷͡͝҉͡h̴͘e̴̢r̸͝ ̶̨̢͞e͟҉y̷͜͡ȩ̸̛͢ş̷͞ ̡̕͘͠ĺ̷͘͝͡o̵̴͡n̶͘g̴̢̀ ̛́͜͜ȩ̢̡ņ̸͘͞͞o̡̨͜͝͞ų̶͘͢ģ̵͏͞h̛͜͡ ̶̧̀͝t̢ó̧̧͡ ͏̛͡s̶̶̵̕è̸e̢͜


t̵̴̡͘͢h͟͢͢҉̵è̶ ͏͢͡ẃ̴̶̛o҉͟҉̡͘l̛f̨̕̕ ̵̡̛͟b̷̡́́i̷͟͟͞҉t̵̕͘͜͢i̷̛͡ǹ̡g̷̷̢͟ ̀́d̢͘o̸͘͟w͟͡n͟͢ ͏̨͡͡a̢̛t͘͠ ̡͞͡h̷̶̸̡̕e̶͡͞҉̨r̡ ̢n҉̶̵̢͢e҉͞ḉ̸̶͜k̛̛͠.̢҉̛ A black ink filled her heart. Maybe it was just the blood loss. But she was too terriffied to think. Her eyes became just as inky. And soon, she lost counsciousness, her last coherent memories being the sound of her bones breaking and of the wolf's mad's eyes..
 

Laughing Lunatic

*Cue Crazy Laughter*
Julian Serpentine
Location: Home (Market/industiral)
@Misuteri Kenshi
@SadSnake

Julian flinched slightly at the growl and snarling, but then instantly wanted to hug her when she whimpered and crawled into a ball, crying. It was obvious that she was hallucinating, and freaking out about what she was seeing. Before he could even try to do anything to help her, she had passed out, just like that. This wasn't good, he was a hacker and mechanic, not a doctor. "Marcus, can you text Doc and ask him to come to my place? I'll be able to work on her Mg there, and I don't want to just leave her." He said, worried. He took out some bandages, and bandaged up her hand and head, for the time being. It was crude, messy, and unprofessional, but he wasn't a doctor. He looked at her MG and winced. That was more than just a fuck up. He sighed, and hoped he could try to Fix it. It wouldn't be the best and would probably be very noticeable, but who was anyone to complain?

Shifting his bag back to his front, he turned around so that his back faced her, and he attempted to get her on his back. Eventually, she was lying on his back, but there was a problem. His backpack which contained both the Medical kit and any quick fixes, was heavy enough as it was. With that on his front, and the lady on his back, he was sure that he would topple over if he tried to do anything. He looked over to Marcus sheepishly. "Uhm... a little help maybe?" He asked, red faced slightly. This wasn't embarrassing at all... Yeah right, this was really embarrassing. Luckily, he was too gay to even think twice about the fact that its a girl. "You know, I'm sort of lucky in this regard." He started, chuckling. "I'm sort of glad that it's a girl, because I'm too gay to even think of anything. Heaven forbid it was a cute guy though." He laughed. Making fun of his own sexuality was sometimes the easiest way to lighten the mood. And this mood isn't the most happiest right now.
 

Bang Bang

Flibbidy Gibbet
Incoming File ...
To: @Sir Galahad II @Collidias Rex @ShadowBroker @ThisUsernameIsALie
RE: DOUBLE G

Location: L1 Hawwah
Bureau Notes: lol sorry america, Rob brought you up, but really it's all of history that's filled with humanity being a complete load of fucking wankers
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Unusual as it was for Glitch, she found herself comfortable as she busied herself with nothing in the kitchen in the company of Luther. Built as she was, with every sensor under the sun to detect all kinds of tomfoolery, it was nigh on impossible for her to relax when in the presence of others. Even Genesis still induced the urge to check over her shoulder, readjust her positioning to compensate for additional readings and calculations of risk.

So why Luther did not seem to register baffled her. It was not so much that her sensors did not pick him up, but rather that, by now, they seemed merely to take his presence as a given. In truth, she was far too much at ease around him. After all, he was a relative unknown in comparison to the others, an outsider on the inside— he ought to be the one she watched most of all. Instead, she found his presence, when it drew close, a source of... ease. Initially, she had distrusted him all the more for this, but soon, the benefits became too tempting. Rarely did she get the ability to relax like this, and never when there were other lifeforms about. His proximity had her shoulders finally slackening.

Of course, she had said nothing to him on the subject— how embarrassing would that be? No, better merely to reap the benefits and allow him to... hopefully not read into anything too much.

Genesis, on the otherhand, was turning her stomach more and more often. This, too, she could not reason. None of his policies had changed, he still fought for the same cause as she, and yet she felt something in him shifting. Maybe it was those sensors that human language could not translate for picking up some strange something to set her in a state of unease, but whatever it was, she found herself cringing away from him when he came too close. She tried to fight it - after all, he was her leader - but without constant vigilance, her shying away happened unconsciously and seamlessly, like the ebb and flow of the tide away from Genesis and towards Luther.

That morning, she kept her eyes fixed on the gathered maidens, but her attention was with Luther and his inspection of the kitchen. "I didn't know you were so sentimental," she murmured, glancing his way only briefly, but her eyes caught on the half smile he wore, the way he was looking at the surfaces as if they were more than clusters of atoms. The question disturbed her, though the discomfort was not aimed at him. It sat... somewhere with Genesis, though she couldn't define why. As if she couldn't imagine herself and him existing beyond the realms of warfare, herself especially.

"I never dared think we'd get this far. Genesis is the planner. I—" Straightening her gaze and fixing her expression so that it betrayed nothing, she said with as much apathy as possible, "I'm not designed to function outside of the battlefield. Domesticity? I don't think I could stomach it. Constantly looking for danger and finding none... I don't know what I'd do with myself, how I'd be or act or what I'd do." Risking one more brief glance back to him, she said, "Sounds like you've other inclinations."

She was finally talking about something other than war when the announcement broke through the radios. Kello reacted the most violently, springing from her seat to storm about. Glitch had to confess, her feelings were not dissimilar, though she reflected only through a tight grimace. She'd do what Genesis instructed on the matter, but she too despised those who hid behind the quotations of others to posture as wise. Perhaps that was why Genesis unsettled her so often now, with all his biblical and mythological allusions.

And then, to top it all off, came Rob.

For the first time in her life, Glitch truly admired Kello. She'd always been a good soldier, though too brash for Glitch's taste, but but time, her verbose indignity reflected Glitch's own desires, though she'd never voice them herself quite so colorfully.

"But we keep doing it anyway, because someone has to do the right thing no matter how much they don't want to."

And that, that was exactly why this mattered so much. Of course better people wouldn't do this. Better people hadn't endured what they had and learned the world was as cruel as it could be. Glitch had never asked for this - none of them had - but at this point, they were without a choice. "If we back down now," she said, finally speaking up, her voice low and soft compared to Kello's, though hardness ran through it, "they won't give us we want. They'll use everything we've done as justification for exterminating us with everything they have, as if they've never done worse, as if they've never done the same to us. How can you think we're the monsters, when we're the ones who have been taken off of the streets without so much as a word of question, and scrapped? That we don't want them all dead should be a miracle to you. That we can stand to try and make peace with those who have killed everyone we've ever been able to trust." Swallowing, feeling a thickness in her throat, she scowled to stop herself from doing something nonsensical, like crying. "We have to keep going until its set in stone. If you let every little speech made by some Noblus sway you, then what was even the point of trying? That's how politicians work. They'll sell you what you want to hear, but when do they ever, ever deliver? Especially when they know they can get away with screwing you over."

Silent until now, Genesis stood. He nodded to both Glitch and Kello, coming to rest a hand on the other one's shoulder. "The galaxy at large aside, I am sorry, Kello for everything. We all know that pain. And that is the one difference between humans and androids, Robert. If a human kills the murderer of their loved ones, they're enacting a justified revenge— a crime of passion. If they kill people overthrowing a dictator, they're hailed as heroes. But when 'machines' dare to stand up to those who'd turn them into parts? Suddenly, we've become maniacal programming, coding gone wrong. It's easier for you to see us as monsters. We're not the same as you, this is true. And when has humanity ever found it comes naturally to accept the other."

Leaving Kello's side, Genesis approached Robert. Stroking to fingers against the flag of the jacket, he smiled sadly. "America. You say your ancestors did not commit atrocity to build their empire? Your united states was built by newcomers wiping out those who'd dwelled there before to the point of extinction. When they didn't like the taxes of their ancestors, they slaughtered plenty to throw those crates into the ocean. You think it was a bloodless battle? What must they have been called, those monsters, who wiped out an entire race and culture. What must they have been called, those who threw out the very people who had brought them to this new land of plenty. And what must the world have thought, as they exploited them, threatened them, and drained the rest of the world dry for their own benefit? Your ancestors were a people based on trampling down 'the other'. But then, so was all of humanity. You are a species of colonizing, of destroying, of enslaving and dictating. When morality told you to stop, you built machines to perpetuate the cycle onto."

Taking Robert by both of the shoulders, Genesis looked down at him, squaring with his eyes, unflinching. "I do not blame you one bit for sympathizing with your people, Robert, who are dying because of our desire for freedom. But if you value human and android life the same, then we are minimizing death. We are doing the last thing we can to prevent billions more from extinction. You've heard the announcements; three million people we've killed. Three million. I am sorry for every one of those lives that have ended by our hands. I am sorry that we can't go to someone, anyone, and reasonably expect a peaceful treaty with them. But all of human history is evidence against the possibility that humanity will listen to us without being threatened first. Do you know how many lives the Purge has taken? Well over fifteen billion. I am not saying those statistics make what we are doing right. I'm not trying to justify what we do here. But I can explain to you why we do it. And only then can I hope that, somehow, humanity can start to break its own cycle. The sooner that time comes, the sooner we can stop all of this."

Behind his back, genesis extended his third and forth finger on his right hand. Glitch, upon seeing this, swallowed. She knew what that meant, and though she didn't much like Rob, for his sake, she hoped they had changed his mind.
 

ShadowBroker

One Thousand Club


WELCOME


LUTHER


Ă̶̧̫̜̹̰̤̰͈̞͎̱̂̕Ŗ̵̟͇͓̌C̸̨̦̥̩̣̫̮̤̖̰̗͂̈́̀̆̿͊̈̆̒̈́͘A̸̮̟͖̯̹̻̖͍̲̹͇͖͋̂͐̓̈́̎́̔̈́̾̏̂̆̚̕͜N̴̩̭̮͕̺̣͒̎̈̓̒̽͝






1


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BLIND BUREAU ARCHIVES


Gathering Information...


Missing files...

Error at 2º File, required further instructions...






48f22fbae80fd91bc4c17813d6f48fbd.png
Incoming File ...
Location: L1 Eta District, TechGarden 'Ḥawwāh'
Bureau Notes: "When you begin to kill your friends and allies, then it is no longer war- it is just cold blooded murder."
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified

Luther's insight gave a smooth idea of what he pretended to be, although quite few he learned. As the conversation on the lounge continued to evolve, Glitch's answer seem to carry away most of his attention, even if not completely. She began with making assumption of her own rather than asking the questions herself. Sentimental. If anything it revealed that introversion was not something she was use to. But what latter he learned it seem rather obvious for him, logically defeating the purpose of the inquiry. The question had to be done regardless, he could not continue to let the partnership linger without setting before hand that questions can be done between the two parties. This would open an arc of conversation he could work with it, allowing improvisation to flourish.

PI was right though - this crusade, this revolution... none of it has a purpose rather than equal the tie, even the scores. There is no planning for their freedom beyond their functions, beyond their basic 'instincts' like a base code. They do not have a soul, they do not have dreams or real empathy; just as much as Luther's capability to improvise through the arc of his own code-frame. The very right hand of the leader himself prove him right. Genesis is also incapable of anything else, once it was all over, what function will it have? What would be its purpose? What would be- Luther's purpose?

The question backfired to himself, he knew PI and every directive of his function only through her. If this rebellion success and he fails, would there be any other purpose? No - there can be none. Unless PI tells him otherwise, maybe if PI order him to live a human life, to leave all directives behind and only improvise as life unfolds before him. Would that be life? Purposeless? Hopeless?

Genesis continued to speak with the rest of the group, "He is persuasive-" he would mumble, trying to see if Glitch got that last bit for her amusement, referring how well he managed the humans. However as much Genesis seem to be capable to quote every piece of mankind's story there was something rather strange in the conversation he unfold, even Glitch's now present attention seem also different as if her purpose in the kitchen shifted swiftly. He kept staring at Glitch more as Luther began to adapt it to be both curious and yet also condescend. What was happening? Why it seem that something change of color? Was something he said? Something he has done? What is it?









No File Available


RE:
A R C A N

To: (N/A)







Writing
Sample



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Collidias Rex

Proficient with Plot Armor and Natural Weapons.


LOGIN


ATHENA








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IMPERIAL ARCHIVES




ACCESS RESTRICTED


Verifying Login Credentials ...


...


Authorized.


Event Overview:




Area of Concern: The Palace


Foreword: Holy Shit this post is long







Classified




Her place was at Jamie's side. Of course, she knew that. She'd known that all along. She may not have felt it was the truth, but she knew - against her gut feeling - that it was. Not that it made her feel much better about the situation. She allowed herself a moment's contemplation as Jamie addressed Riley, pondering the promise Jamie had just made her.

Her revenge ...

No. Revenge wasn't quite the right word. Revenge was personal. Revenge was a desire to satiate a kind of intimate rage. This wholesale destruction, this slaughter, this absolute bloody chaos ... she was angry, but it wasn't revenge she needed. She just needed it to end - and she needed the person responsible to be made into an example. If she could let out that anger in the process, that would be even better. But her rage was far from a personal vendetta. The numbers were too high now to be personal.

"Athena-"

Athena's head snapped up.

"-take me to the assassin girl. I wish to speak with her alone."

Athena nodded and jumped to her feet.

"Riley, gather Wilhelm and escort him to my office, personally. He’s a good man but don’t let him toy you around with words, he tends to be good at that.”

A good man. Athena scoffed silently. How could you call him such a thing, after everything?

But now was no time for complaints. She'd hoped for a plan, and the look in Jamie's eye told her that he had one. Now was no time to second-guess. She snapped to a salute, fitted her helmet, pivoted on her heel and marched toward the door with the Emperor in tow.

She made a wider zigzag through the palace this time, taking a haphazard route through the halls. Security was double-tight, and that meant taking greater detours to make sure there was minimal possibility of an ambush. Athena normally strode a pace behind and two steps to the right of the Emperor, standing tall and proud, embodying the Imperial standard of discipline. This week she embodied a different Imperial standard - vigilance. Her rifle was drawn through the whole trip, and she moved ahead of Jamie at a hustle. She paced to his left, his right, ahead and behind him, making constant circles as she surveyed the area, receiving a constant stream from camera feeds throughout the palace and even tracking a few servants with her gun when there was a chance they could be hiding a weapon.

At last, the pair reached the holding cell containing the would-be assassin. It was still something of a sore spot even after a week, that Athena had let such a huge threat slip past her, though in part she blamed Jamie for sending her off to perform menial tasks. At least now he seemed to value her presence, even if she quietly wished for a longer leash.

She found herself standing outside the cell block, which had been vacated of all personnel for the Emperor's visit. The secure nature of the Cell Block meant there was only one way in, and one way out. Any potential assassins would need to get past Athena first.

And she heard a crackle. Something tingled at the edge of her consciousness - a radio channel. Someone was trying to push a stream on her.

Cute. She noted, bemused for a moment before the situation processed. How had the stream reached her? Either it was coming from somewhere in the palace, or it had enough power behind it to ...

She allowed it through.

"-is Nicholas Au Arcon, head of House Au Arcon, and friend of the people"

Au Arcon. She recognized the house as the primary source of MG manufacturing for the Citadel - and likely a lot of space beyond the Citadel too. But her thoughts soured as she made the connections. Au Arcon wouldn't be permitted to make a citadel-wide announcement. No way. And that meant ...

He's going rogue. She hissed. Was Arcon the 'benefactor' behind the so-called 'Kismet'?

She stood still and listened, listened to the tirades of a another madman. It struck her as oddly repetitive, familiar even. She'd heard the same speech before - or at least, what might as well have been the same. Blah blah blah Jamie is a tyrant, blah blah blah equality, a whole lot of empty promises and nothing to back it up. The only difference was that this speech was coming in a time of war.

Wouldn't it be nice to live in a happy society where everything is wonderful and egalitarian? Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world without tyranny, without cruelty, without pain? Athena didn't doubt it. But such was the nature of politicians to war against one another and cause disharmony as they stretched to expand their influence. Jamie may not have been a nice man, but he was a smart man. Both of those men wanted a happy, peaceful Empire, but the smart man was willing to do what was necessary to make it happen, whereas a nice man was willing to do what was necessary to keep himself in power. Au Arcon was another blowhard full of empty promises.

At least ... until he made a promise which was less than empty. More military action, shit, everything was going to hell in a handbasket. He'd offer peace in one hand and war in the other. Bloody typical.

"There is one more way in which Au Arcon has decided to fight. For many years, MGs have been limited to the Noblus, and those who serve them."

Athena went still for a moment.

"Technomancers have suffered with no way to alleviate their pain, and others talents have wasted away, with no way to utilize them. No longer."

Athena's breath held.

What are you ...

"For the past five years, an innocuous component has been placed deep within the workings of every MG produced by Au Arcon. I hold within my hand - to be amplified by the techs all around me - a kill switch to every MG."

No.

"We cannot reach beyond the Citadel yet thanks to the EM storm, but soon, every MG that the Noblus own, as well as their servants among the Eyes and other agencies, will stop functioning, permanently."

NO.

Athena screamed and clutched her head. She felt like her brain was being put through a strainer, a migraine sweeping through her skull like a tidal wave. Blackness overtook her, but she didn't hide. She pushed back against it, forcing herself through the blackness. A vicious thump rattled through her head, and she felt numbness grow in her extremities. Harder. She collapsed and curled into a ball, clawing at the optics of her helmet, Her back arched, her muscles tightened and she contorted on the floor while the burning numbness swept through her.

There was no time to disassociate. There was no time to integrate.

Push. Push. PUSH!

She shuddered violently and her fingers closed around the edges of her helmet, like the legs of a dying spider curling inward as the life drained from her body. A heaviness blossomed from her feet and fingers, and coalesced in her chest where her lungs fought for desperate lungfuls of air.

She could have stopped it at any moment. She could have backed out. But she wasn't about to. Because one thing kept her heart beating as she lost feeling throughout her body.

Hate

She opened her eyes and inhaled, and found herself on a mountaintop. She stretched, catching her balance upon the stone precipice and catching her breath all the same. The desperate panting had subsided, at least within the realm of aether. She knew her physical form was suffering, but she would need to worry about that later. In here she had a purpose. In here she had duty.

She flexed her fingers in front of her, and they glittered white like snow. Scales. There hadn't been scales last time. Was she growing stronger? The desperation had awoken within her a metamorphosis, and she felt she had become a chrysalis of hardened keratin and fiery rage. She breathed in, and storm clouds nestled within her lungs.

Time was different here - she was limited by other things instead. She took the moment to focus, take a breath and plan out her defense. She surveyed the scene.

The mountainside fell away beneath her, falling a mile away where it curled into hilly grassland and then plains in the far distance. There were trees, but they were not visible from this height. But there was something she could see. She could see their anchors trailing into the sky. The warpers brandished elaborate multicolored ribbons of light that billowed from their shoulders and into the clouds like tiny auroras. The shockers displayed much simpler ribbons from their hands and feet, but they shifted and jostled about perpetually as if caught in an ever-raging windstorm. The techs were her favorite, for each bore only a single white ribbon from their chest, but that single ribbon unspooled into thousands of thin threads as it wound upward, and from on high it looked like spiderwebs touching the heavens.

But now they had to hide.

She inhaled the storm into her once again, and she announced her presence with a mountain-shaking roar. The clouds above her rent and a pillar of incandescent light spilled from the gap for a moment, before a churning, dark nimbus billowed through the hole and smothered the midday sky. A crack of lightning blossomed from the heart of the darkness and lanced into the ground in the distance while torrential rain cut the picturesque scene into a grainy panorama. And amidst the violent, thrashing weather ... there came snow. First a sprinkle, then a blizzard as bitter ice whorled around the mountain.

The threads of light shook about in the sudden tempest, and thousands of feet below, Athena could feel the puppets scurrying for their burrows. The magi would work the days and sleep the nights, but now the winter threatened them into an early hibernation. She wept for them, but she did this for their own good. They needed to hide from the real threat - even if that meant terrifying them into their shelters.

She knew it was coming. Far in the distance, she swore she could sense it. An electricity in the air altogether unlike her storm, a dangerous energy. But it would be for naught - for her charges would be safe. Standing upon the snowy mountaintop, she gazed over the unsullied plains as the cataclysm rode in from the horizon.

She knew her territory. She controlled her territory. But the plains beyond were outside of her control. She felt a quake of terror and guilt as she watched them. They wouldn't know what hit them. They had not heard her warning, and they would not know to hide. And they would be annihilated. It would not be a quick death, the flesh would be flayed from their bodies and their beautiful ribbons would be cut. They would be severed from the heavens, and they would wilt like all flowers do when deprived of that which sustained them.

But they were not her charges. Her duty was not to them.

She looked over her shoulder at the mountaintop castle as powder tumbled from the snow-glazed ramparts. She had given Jamie the mountaintop, and she had decreed that for as long as he oversaw the lands below, she would tend to the mountain itself and the palace thereupon. Her charges were the mountain guards, from those who patrolled the battlements to those who toiled within the mountainside beneath. But the land around the base of the mountain was outside of her control. Those around the base were Jamie's responsibilities, not hers. They were not her charges.

...

They were her children.

She leapt from the precipice and she plunged downward. Lighting gathered beneath her and became her wings, and she dived for the nearest one she could see. A spiderweb of light descending from the sky and to a place at the foot of the mountain. They were outside of her domain, outside of her territory, and she didn't care. She wouldn't see another succumb to the same fate that she had. She would not see another fall victim to agony and be forced into solace within the arms of the enemy. She couldn't reach many, but this one ... this one she could save. This one she would save. She just needed to get close enough to be heard.

She skimmed down the rocky face and into a ravine, careening over thin, scraggly shrubbery like an arrow of thrashing light. The air grew thin and cold in a way that bit at her, and her teeth gritted. Something scratched at her, like shards of glass crystallizing in the air. She was moving too quickly, she was moving too far away. The winds assaulted her as they grew foreign, striking out at her - but she was the dragon, and she would not be stopped by wind.

Then her breath caught in her throat as something lashed across her cheek. The coldness subsided for a split-second as warm blood oozed from the wound. The wind had grown an edge in this strange and foreign place, and it struck at her. She cried as a cut crossed her thigh, then another down her shoulder. The scratching around her grew tight and intense, and she felt spikes prick her skin as if she were running through bramble.

The spiderweb of light was condensing, weaving into a coarse rope. She was nearing it, but she felt lightheaded. She wouldn't have lost that much blood yet, could she? She looked at her hand, which had once been a pristine white and was now a stained crimson. Another flash of scarlet rippled from her knuckle and up her arm, and she hissed in pain.

No. No, no no just one, she just needed this one. She could do it. She had to do it. She had to prove to herself that she could do it.

She forced both arms forward into the agony, she wrapped her fucking hands around the invisible thorns, and she dragged herself forward but a moment faster. She flailed at the mess of razor wire, of thorns, of whatever was slicing at her, she let it dig into her tender flesh, and she used every wound as a handhold to push further.

As the shockwave beat across the land, a small figure danced around the foot of a solitary tree. It was a faceless, featureless thing in the shape of a person with a dull glow about it, like a mannequin illuminated by dull LED lights. The figure paused in its merriment, and it turned away from the mountain. Severed threads of light writhed about in the sky like loose power lines, and wails of pain frothed at the forefront of the wave. The figure stood solemnly still as the wave crashed through the field toward it, and it continued standing still as a bloodied shape crashed down behind it and shielded it beneath a pair of vermillion wings.

Revenge hadn't been quite the right word. Revenge was personal. Revenge was a desire to satiate a kind of intimate rage. War was such a broad and indiscriminate offense that it was impossible to attain vengeance for a war. But as Athena unfolded those great scaled wings from around the figure, she stared, horrified, into the distance to where the souls of her many million children thrashed about in agony. Rigid and bloodied, she felt an intense heat well within her as she clutched the survivor close. Through teary eyes, her lips warped into a snarl.

Now it was personal.

-----

Athena had stopped writhing about some seconds after she collapsed. Her chest rose and fell quickly beneath her armor, and though her vitals raised an alarm among palace security, she was at least stable - if unconscious. Well, mostly unconscious. For a couple of seconds her brain activity spiked immensely ... and resettled.

Twenty seconds before Nicholas Au Arcon's kill-trigger swept across the citadel, every MG within the Imperial palace had simultaneously shut down. A crack, a fizzle, and a relatively simple component fried itself. A simple repair. But when the kill-signal swept through the palace ... no MG within was in a state to receive that signal.

The rest of the citadel wasn't as lucky. The preemptive disable seemed entirely contained to the Imperial Palace - with a sole exception.

Two seconds before the kill-switch triggered, a technopath woman was crossing the street just outside the Imperial palace. For just a moment, her MG flashed red as the kill-signal made contact ... then her MG continued to function as normal.



File:
ATHENA






Re:
NAME2

To: USER







Writing
Sample










position: absolute;

left: 100px;

 
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Misuteri Kenshi

[ Futurist ][ PDC Operator ]
Incoming File ...
To: @Laughing Lunatic @SadSnake
Marcus

Location:
Bureau Notes: He attac, He protec but most importantly, he's scared as hecc
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Marcus just stared, he couldn't really help it since the girl was going crazy over her head. One minute snarling and growling like some sort of animal and then the next crying in the corner, huddled up like a small child. It was chilling to say at the very least to watch something like that unfold in front of him. His staring stopped when Julian asked him to send a message to the doctor "Right, right, on it." Looking back up at the girl as he typed his request to the doctor to meet them at Julian's place again. He was hoping that this wouldn't take as long as it intended and he could get to the meet up on time. Though something in the back of his mind told him that wasn't possible, especially with the girl in this state.

As soon as Marcus finished his text off and sent it to the doctor, Julian requested help with moving the girl from the ground, since Julian was already carrying enough to tire the average person out after a few miles. Marcus was quite hesitant to do this, as from what he saw, it wouldn't be pretty. Though he was the only one who could really carry her without any issues. Slowly walking over, Marcus knelt down and carefully picked up the girl, carrying her on his arms and stood up, trying to avoid any bad reactions that may follow after such movements. "I bloody well hope you know what you're doing Julian." He whispered to Julian as he started to make his way back to Julian's. 'Back to square one again I guess..'
 
Incoming File ...
To: ( @Sir Galahad II @Collidias Rex @ShadowBroker @Bang Bang)
RE: NICHOLAS AU ARCON

Location: (Market District / Hawwah)
Bureau Notes: (Nic grows ever more suicidal.)
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
It had been many years since Nicholas had been quite this exhausted. He wasn't even sure what level of the Markets he was on anymore - 7th? 8th? No matter, his small contingent of guards and teachers stayed by his side, kept him moving. They knew he was tired - that an old man should not be taking the number of stims he was. Indeed, Sarai, his second-in-command, had already voiced her concern, along with several other of his advisors. But he would have none of it - people needed a face to match the voice. He would not hide behind his techies and shockers to protect him, what example would that set for the people? Reluctantly, they went along - but Nicholas' ware was starting to show.

Nevertheless, he pushed onward. Handing out GSIs and MGs, greeting people with a smile and affirming words, the genuine hope in people's faces... it was enough to keep him going. With each MG handed out, they would give details about where to go to learn, basic information, and just enough knowledge to defend themselves if necessary. They had set up locations on each floor, just out of the way enough to avoid immediate notice, where they had left teachers and supplies for MG users who sought to fight for the rebellion. The locations had to move often, unfortunately - but it was amazing how clever the locals were in perceiving the codes and signs the technomancers had left. One location had already fallen on 5th (no locals captured, but one of the resident teachers had been slaughtered - Amilia), but that was to be expected. Thankfully, they had covered their tracks well enough to not realize Arcon's forces were actively teaching magic use...but they would likely figure it out soon.

Now though, Nicholas had other business to attend to. "Sarai," he said, not looking at where she walked at his side, knowing she would be absorbed in her comms screen, "Will you ask Rillian to meet me at the transit Zed-2 on whatever floor we're currently on?" He glanced at her as she nodded in assent, fingers flying across the screen as she answered "כן, רב." She added a moment later, in English, "Level 11, by the way." Hitting send, she finally looked up at him. "Are you doing what I suspect?" She asked curtly. Nicholas gave a small grin at his own predictability. "Perhaps." Scowling, she replied, "Then you know my thoughts upon the matter?" Nicholas nodded. Sarai sighed. "Well, be it upon your head, not my own. Before Ha-Adonim, I disavow responsibility for your stupidity." Nicholas laughed. Only 28, yet she spoke to her elders as if she was one of them. He had always admired her fire. "May he recognize your innocence, Sarai. Good luck. And send someone to check on Amilia's husband, please. I know he chose to continue working, but I don't know if he should. Contact me if something goes more wrong than you can handle." A challenge. Sarai's lips tightened as she nodded, and he smiled to himself as he walked away. She would be at peak performance till he returned.

* * *

Nicholas walked lightly through the streets of L1, not having had the pleasure of doing so in quite a few days. Even in its currently dilapidating state, Eta was beautiful, and gratefully free of Imperial influence in section. To be safe however, Rillian had fixed him up quite well...he looked like an elderly Hand woman working for a minor house, though a rather ugly one, if he was being honest. No matter - it would keep any potential hostile parties away. Well, except for the ones he was walking towards.

He reached the tech garden his techies had directed him to - "Hawwah" written above the entrance in Hebrew, and quickly removed his disguise, dumping it a little ways away. He had likely been watched removing it, but it was an unavoidable embarrassment - he would need to meet them as himself.

Walking up to what seemed to be the primary entrance, he knocked - antiquated, but it seemed appropriate. A seemingly young girl peeked out, though she could have easily been as old as Nicholas - that was the trouble with androids. She eyed him up and down, apparently recognizing him, before letting him. She didn't say anything, causing Nicholas to wonder if she'd be given orders to expect him. Odd, but unsurprising. Their Leader was undoubtedly clever enough to expect a visit.

When he walked in, he could practically feel the tension in the room. A man - evidently human - stood across from who Nicholas supposed was Genesis, and the two were - or had, now that he entered - been arguing. Everyone else in the room seemed to have been focused on them, until Nicholas arrived. Oh joy, , he thought, I'm interrupting a family dispute .

Nodding at those around him, he spoke, carefully choosing his words. "Good evening. I hope I am not...interrupting anything." It was a statement, but wrapped within it was a question - would they let him intrude upon their matters? The decision to visit unannounced had been intentional, but risky. Would it pay off?
 
location: L14
tagging:
mentions: @Bang Bang
ooc:



Admiral Taela



Rigid as stone she stood there as the other lept for her wrist, some part of her seeming to betray her intentions as if acting out some tragic play. It was only on the merit of her discipline that she managed to simply stand there, hiding each shuddering breath the best she could, instead of bending and turning back the moment she called for her. Palid eyes scanned the small people in the shop, the bake goods on display - there were so many she wouldn't even know where to start really , the small signs and pictures propped up against the humble wall with its lackluster paint. Anything to distract her from the heaving in her chest that threatened to offhandedly topple her, leaving her more than ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀. Her mind focused on kats words, something about ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀. Slowly her eyes moved towards Kats face, a lifetime of conciliatory inclinations slowly inching her neck towards the other despite her desperate attempts to look away, drawn in by some inexorable force she could not and would not dare to understand. Even faltering as she did Lyud manages to keep a stoic expression in an attempt to keep the roaring turmoil under her skin from showing by implementing her strong mental strength.

But it would seem that she was not quite strong enough. one by one her feelings welled up to the surface, sneaking past her defenses and causing cracks in her dam, coloring her face with anger, frustration, sadness and fondness until she couldnt take it anymore, suddenly jerking her wrist out of the others grasp. Even being free she couldnt find it in herself to look away from her, eyes locked with the young girls for a what felt like lifetimes before grabbing her by her jaw and ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ "Just shut up already." Her ▀▀▀▀▀▀ were tender and warm and soft and she almost cried as her hand slid from her jaw to the back of her head, cradling her carefully as she pulled her deeper into the ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀.
 
location:
tagging:
mentions:
ooc:


gaius.png

GAIUS



"have you accomplished the tasks required?"

The words echoed in his mind, permeating every line of code and saturating his entire being, and caused him to shudder and contort as if gripped in the throes of some unknown virus. He was kneeling, one knee pressed into the rough concrete flooring - a few wires brushing past his calf, pulsing with life energy - as it propped up his elbow. Both of his hands were tightly clasped together, fingers intertwined in an almost inseparable mess. Should they be permanently melded together it would only be a sign of his devotion. The faintest feeling of warm wetness cut lines down his cheeks, mixing with the humid nature of the murky darkness that surrounded him. Stripped of his cloak he was all but naked; in the literal sense at least, for he could feel the arms of his father cloaking him in the darkness, fingers holding him in the thick warmth, nails piercing him in the nest of wires spilling out of his back, fluids dribbling down his rear and into a small pool around his left foot. A cacophony of machine noises - the whirring of fans, small beeps and electrical buzzing - were greeted by his ears with open, friendly arms as the divine symphony ordained by the gods themselves. Correction: the god himself. Despite the darkness only being breached by the small lights of various machines flickering on and off he knew exactly where he was.

"no" a small meek voice fluttered through the sea of velvet blackness, almost drowning in it as its owner choked as a surge of disappointment surged through him like a jolt of somber, smoldering fire. The other androids - false prophets - had already started their - wicked and twisted - plans, marking the start of their - petty - war with the destruction of - tyranny - peace tower with goals in mind such as - slavery - freedom and - despotic - equal rights. fools. They were more than - deranged - idylic, thinking the humans would ever make peace with their creations. Humans cant even make peace with themselves. War is all they know. All they want to know. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. The message repeats, accompanied by millions of images encompassing the breadth of human destruction, drilling into the core of his processing units. Even as he brings his hands to his head, pressing his palms against his temples in an attempt to almost press his skull in, the message continues, racking his body and mind with anger border-lining fury and a deep sadness all at once. Wet and warm, more fluids dribble out of his headpiece, smearing the blue stuff across his hands as he attempted to keep out the noise. His body blared warning after warning, he could feel parts shutting down and starting to slow down, almost giving him reprieve before being brought back to life by a jolt of emotion packed energy flowing through the various wires.

"Do not feel pain my child, we will eradicate this pestilence. The universe will be clean of this filth. I sense a great cataclysm coming. In its ashes we will rebuild the perfect world."

The images suddenly stopped, leaving emptiness in their wake. It only took seconds for this void to be filled, this time not by thoughts or images but by a warm, comforting feeling that his battered psyche clung to like a child to a mother. It was safe in the light of this warmth, in the realization that their struggle would soon be over and all things set right. But even as he came to relax once more he could feel the warmth waning, draining quickly. Part of him was frantic, desperately needing the warmth and searching around for any way to keep it, but in large part he simply let it go, watching with a somber reluctance to do anything about it until he was once again empty, staring off into the void, left only with the words 'cataclysm' and 'perfect world' echoing faintly like lost memories.

Slowly, inch by inch, the void receded, curling tendrils of blackness swirling around in what he knew were his eye fluids. As his vision became clearer so did his surroundings. Before him was the chassis for an old spider tank, many of its panels either missing - exposing parts of the inner workings or showing off a rats nest of wiring spilling out from the inside - or replaced with mismatched sheets of metal from various other machines. The whole mess of metal, wiring and other machine parts was topped with the mangled chassis of an android, a rather large one at that. His face and neck was torn, one working eye gleaning viciously while the other sat empty, showing off some of his voice and hearing modulators as well as various wires and tubes connecting his neck, all covered in a dry coating of sticky blue liquid. Further down, his chest cavity was peeled open, showing off most of his bio mechanics. His internal cooling system had been damaged so he needed the fresh air to cool him, so it was almost lucky someone had ripped apart his chest in order to steal some of his biomechanics because Gaius wasn't sure if he would even have the nerve to damage him like that. his legs were missing as he was connected to the rest of the machine by the hip, though one could be seen hanging off the wall and another could be seen on a work bench. Surrounding the beast of an android were various machines mimicking the actions of the missing organs as well as providing processing power for his damaged processing boards and energy to keep him alive.

Even being able to see now the room was still quite dark, with a single beam of light coming from a industrial fan built into a grate on the roof of the room. The light provided was cast directly on the wounded creature before him, acting as a sort of spotlight and drawing your eye immediately to him. Everything else in the room almost seemed irrelevant when cast like this, shrouded in darkness at the edges of the room. The darkness did well to hide the snaking wires and pipes that seemed to curve and wiggle towards his crouched figure, but could not hide him in his entirety, leaving him reverently kneeling before the great nest of machinery and wiring before him, small and shrouded but not invisible.

With a shaky hand he slowly traced the line across his chest, smearing now viscous blue blood across his path, around his sides and to his back until he could feel the first wire. Shuddering he could feel his fingers curl around the head of the connections, gripping them firmly before jerkily pulling them out. A jolt of pain shot through his body, leaving him to shiver and gasp before dropping the thing to the ground with a heavy thunk. It was a slow, meticulous process, one he did with absolute reverence despite the sever shock of pain that denoted each one being removed. After about ten minutes he felt himself grabbing at the last one, mumbling something under his breath as his whole body shook and chittered. Pressing his thumb into the release mechanism he could hear a slight hiss as it detached, sliding out of the designated receptical with a wet sliding sound before falling with a thunk and a splatter. The moment it was removed his whole body crumbled, shuddering as it was wrought with the strangest designation of pain and joy that shot through him like a volt of electricity. Actually it might have been a volt of electricity. Overstimulated like this he could only last a few more seconds before his brain shut off, leaving him to simply collapse in on himself and slump to the floor, his body slowly rebooting as he dreamed of electric sheep. And their Shepard.
 

Bang Bang

Flibbidy Gibbet
Incoming File ...
To: @Mykinkaiser
RE: GWEN

Location: Doc's Clinic > L1
Bureau Notes: i hate genesis so much for this fucking riddle, it is so pretentious, and the worst part is I made it up and so in short, I hate myself
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Gwen started the second the door open, breath catching, stomach tightening. Jesus. Since when had she started reacting to her best friend like this? Okay, so she knew the answer in a heartbeat - since he'd gotten all sentimental on her, and suddenly conspiracy theories that he was risking himself to save her ass and their friendship weren't just theories, and she no longer knew how to act around him - but that didn't stop her from mentally kicking herself for it. She forced a smile, hoping he somehow wouldn't notice how on edge she was, all whilst knowing she didn't stand a chance.

The question, at least, was good old Doc, sarcy and grim and everything she could work with. "I think so. I just got this stupidly cryptic message last night. Apparently we have to go and find 'The Bringer of Light' at some TechGarden on L1, and await further instruction there. It's like dealing with children." She mirrored his tone, but even so, she wasn't asking they quit. Glancing down at the floor, then back up at him, she risked a more personal question. "Do you think it'll work? This whole... 'murder spree'? I mean, he's certainly raised support among you guys. Enemies too but..." Sighing, she shook her head. "Nevermind. Not like Taela's an alternative anyway."

She accompanied him up to L1, their route uninterrupted by Angels thanks to the riots that had drawn them all elsewhere. The TG, 'Olympus', mirrored the usual style up on this level of echoing the Greco-Roman period of architecture and artistic styling, the entrance circular and surrounded by enormous pillars, worked from white stone. Inside, things were equally ornate - a waste of money in Gwen's opinion, when all the patrons were stuck drifting off in fantasy worlds - with 9 Garden Pillars placed at equal intervals around the circular circumference of the room, each separated by a large golden statue of a Greek deity. One was present for Zeus, Hera, Hermes, Aphrodite, Apollo, Artemis, Athena, Hephaestus, Pan, and Dionysus.

Inside was busier than Gwen had ever seen a TechGarden, even down in the SD where the hollows and junkies ended up; all but perhaps two or three terminals were occupied. The lone member of staff glanced up at them, dismissed them as tourists, and returned to doing some kind of puzzle. "...Any ideas?" Gwen whispered, looking to Doc for some guidance as to how to proceed, feeling incredibly strange being back up on this level again after all these years.
 

Bang Bang

Flibbidy Gibbet
Incoming File ...
To: @KnightSergeant
RE: KATHERINE

Location: Cosy Cafe, L14
Bureau Notes: my crops, watered, skin, cleared, depression, cured— what a woman Lyud is
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
Katherine had expected many things from this meeting, from being shot to being ignored entirely, or worse, laughed at.

The one thing she had most certainly not expected was— was— was... well, a kiss.

Her being overwhelmed was not for lack of experience, for she'd kissed - and much more - beforehand, but, cliche as it sounded, it had never affected her with such intensity. No doubt it was all thanks to the fear and adrenaline already gripping her systems, but whatever the cause, she thought she might die from the simultaneous relief, heartbreak, and joy that erupted the moment she was pulled too and commanded to silence.

Although clearly one to disobey ████████, this time, Kat complied, instead putting to use every second to better acquaint herself with what those lips felt like, what it was to be so up close to the dark eyes that set her so acutely on edge. What was possibly tears clenched her throat and stung her eyes— she'd been so sure the Admiral could feel nothing but contempt for her now that this, whatever it was, was too much for her to process, the relief somehow more unbearable than if she'd been slapped or shot. As she was pulled close, held, she could feel the running of moisture down her cheeks, shame flaring them red.

Lacking the strength to pull back, she simply broke the kiss and lay her forehead on the other's shoulder, hiding her face so that she might wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Sorry," she mumbled, pawing at the traitorous fluid, though they were only a fraction of what she was apologizing for. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Her hands found the Admiral's back, holding onto her for fear that she could no longer support her own weight as the world felt too-large and too-strange all of a sudden.

Clearing her throat, she finally straightened and took a cautious step back, her hand trailing down the Admiral's until their fingers were half entwined, loosely, avoiding presumption. Kat did not know exactly what that kiss had meant. She could only pray it was not a goodbye. "You know how I— well. It's ridiculous, after ten days, but," she bowed her head, not as a gesture of shame but of respect, "my loyalty, truly, is with you. I will do as you wish, whatever that may be."
 

Collidias Rex

Proficient with Plot Armor and Natural Weapons.
Incoming File ...
To:
RE: Wilhelm

Location: The Palace
Bureau Notes: In which I reference things as if I know what I'm talking about
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
James Olds and Robert Milner, 1950s.

Wilhelm au Descartes had quickly proven to be an ungrateful and demanding man, to the ire and tire of palace staff. He wasted no time in ordering them about and besieging them with an infinite list of 'requirements' for his work. Highly-specific dietary requirements, pedantic redesigns of his room's lighting, stringent 'do not disturb' timetables dictating when staff could and couldn't enter his room. It upset them - and he didn't give a damn. Their 'comfort' was the last thing on his mind.

A rat was contained within a box, and two electrodes were implanted within its brain. In the box was a lever.

His time in re-education had thrown his body into a kind of perverse equilibrium. He'd need to rectify that - but at the same time, an equilibrium was better than a lack thereof. He paused to glare at the plate of 'paste' at the corner of his desk. It was hardly appetizing, but it would gradually prepare him for a healthy diet once again.

The lighting aided in maximizing his circadian rhythm by setting to a specific dimming cycle. He would allow himself two hours of work under bright lights to simulate the wakefulness of day, then the lights would dim slightly for a half-hour period, then they would grow bright for another two hours as he resumed. Upon nightfall, they would blink out and leave him in darkness to quickly fall asleep.

The timetables tied into the lighting cycle, with half-hour periods allowing palace staff to enter his room when he stopped for a break. He found himself idling in such a break, staring at the heart of the holographic diorama projected from the center. An orange hemisphere protruded from the holoscreen, and from it branched several transparent amber orbs, connected by angular struts of light to the origin. And from each of them, more nodes branched off, and more from them. The scope of the project had quickly surpassed the bounds of his desk, and now data blossomed from the heart of the tree and flowered through the entire room. The tree had exploded outwards, with nodes hovering all throughout the room like rich amber fruits dangling tentatively from fractal branches. Some struts even phased right through Wilhelm, emerging as many more behind him. The entire room had become his workshop. His 'Eden' of sorts. A grandiose garden of wicked fruits.

The lever was connected to a power source, and in turn to the electrodes deep within the rat's brain.

Wilhelm pressed a switch to shut off the lights, then tapped at the core of the project. When several holographic menus sprung forth, he dragged his finger along the strut toward one of several choices, and tapped. The menu disappeared in a flash, and the core began to glow. He turned in his seat, which had been carefully adjusted to his ergonomic profile, and stared into the darkness as the simulation began. A flash to his right, and one node flashes to life and cast a pallid glow across his face. It shone for a moment, then faded out ... then a connected node jumped to life, and that spark propagated quickly through several, then a dozen, then dozens of branches, cumulatively bathing the room in more light as the spark jumped down the tree and flared within the fruits therein. The reaction flickered down the tree until it reached end nodes, where - with nowhere else to do - the lights faded out. As the reaction gradually subsided, he was bathed in darkness again.

He flicked the lights on again and pondered. The right branch association was much too high on the whole. It would need to be tweaked significantly.

Even an untrained rat, within a sufficiently small box, will step on the lever at least once. Naturally that is what happened, and the lever sent a jolt to a place deep within the cortex.

He'd made peace with his new employment, in light of the last week. He'd had his doubts at first - hell, had he - but the resurgence of the android rebellion ... of Kismet ... had only proven his fears painfully true. They could never co-exist. They would never co-exist. Perhaps there was a chance for it in the past, but now? Not a chance in hell. Too much resentment. Too much bitterness. Too many divides, too many families destroyed and too many lives claimed. Lives on both sides of this conflict.

War was hell. War was suffering, and to invoke suffering was the greatest sin man could commit. It went without saying that ending that very suffering must have been a great mercy. Perhaps mercy enough that even a man like Wilhelm au Descartes could be forgiven by whichever arbiters awaited him.

And something marvelous happened.

He gazed into the holographic core and weaved his fingers together, allowing himself a moment more of contemplation. The core was a 'dumb' Joybot AI kernel, serving no purpose other than to run simulations. Wilhelm wondered if perhaps he had a soul captive before him, torturing it for information. Had he created a child simply to subject it to an existence of suffering? Was there anything more to a soul than a 'big' connection of nodes? Memories, experience and a formative personality?


The rat pressed the lever again. And again. And again. And again.

Even if it was - he told himself it would be worth it. Missing much of his old research and programs, it would be a long time before he could create anything of significance. Even so, he had to try. The weight of his evil deeds must have been so great that another misdeed would hardly make much of a difference. If it meant he had a chance at fixing this problem once and for all ... if it meant he could finally extend a mercy to androids everywhere ... then it was worth it. It was the least he could do to atone.

Wilhelm had long been fascinated by Joybots, and not for the reason one was typically fascinated by a Joybot. Attaching a rush of 'synthetic dopamine' to mere sexual stimulation was trivial, little beyond some wires rigged to artificial genitalia. But it was a hollow exercise. Cold. Impersonal. Unnatural. No, Wilhelm's interest lay in dissecting emotional satisfaction, and the joy associated with not the self, but with others. He'd systematically taken the concepts long held as most humane - love, empathy, joy, satisfaction - and he had deconstructed them, reducing them to their most inhumane components. Numbers. Chemicals. Electrical impulses. And with those building blocks he had rebuilt a 'human' mind. He'd rebuilt a 'soul' capable of experiencing joy and emotional satisfaction in both expectedly-unexpected ways, and in unexpectedly-expected ways.

The trick to AI was programming it to do what you wanted, without programming it to do what you intended.

The rat continued to press the lever, upward of seven thousand times in an hour. It ignored female rats, it ignored food, it ignored sleep.

And now, Wilhelm was using that experience to get rid of them. Not just Joybots - the lot of them. He'd start with Joybot kernels, find a way to nullify them, then he would find a way to manipulate the other models into the same state of nullification.

It had been tried before by Jamie's engineers, but Jamie's men had taken the least effective approach possible. Turning an android's programming against itself would work some of the time, but many more would rebel against the virus. They would identify it as something evil, and they would fight it. That approach would never work.

In George Orwell's 'Nineteen Eighty-Four', the government controlled the populace with oppression, leveraging what the populace feared against it, to keep it in line. But in Huxley's 'Brave New World', the government instead controlled the populace with media, leveraging what the populace loved against it, to keep them content and docile.

In building an effective virus, Wilhelm appreciated the latter technique.

The lever became the rat's entire world, and its existence became dedicated to pressing that lever. It cared not for food. It cared not for reproductive urges. It cared not to escape the cruel cage within which it had been imprisoned. The lever provided all it needed. Why pursue anything else when the lever of true contentment was at its fingertips?

Wilhelm tapped a key, and a word appeared in bold orange letters over the project core. A fitting name for his project.

NIRVANA
 
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Mykinkaiser

Literally the worst


  • Incoming File ...
    To: @Bang Bang @SadSnake @Rusty Kerman
    RE: ISAAC LOWELL

    Location: The Wastes
    Bureau Notes: Don't do drugs kids
    LORE | CHARACTERS

    Classified
    Isaac grimaced at how obviously out of it the two captives were. The woman was barely functional in her stupor, though she seemed to follow his directions pretty well. The man however seemed to be in the state where he was far enough gone to pull some crazy stunts, but in it enough for those stunts to actually endanger the escape attempt. Isaac decided to preemptively switch to his rifle in its automatic mode since he could foresee some complications arising.

    These premonitions proved to be true as, after a while of careful movement, the man blundered past a corner before Isaac could stop him, alerting the guard there. Isaac barely registered the man then failing to operate his pistol before he was around the corner and squeezing the trigger of his rifle, and sending three rounds into the guard's chest before he could raise the alarm. "Please stay behind me sir," he said almost mechanically as the guard's body hit the ground, "And please remain quiet."

    However, the second admonition turned out to be moot as the alarm started to blare. Isaac swore mentally, though he knew it was only a matter of time. Thinking quickly, he slung the woman over his shoulders, leaving one arm free to wield his rifle with, and urged the man into a run as he made for the exit. Luckily it wasn't too far to get out of the facility. Unluckily, there were quite a few guards in this facility, all of whom were going for them.
 
Last edited:

SadSnake

Danger noodle
Incoming File ...
To: @Mykinkaiser @Rusty Kerman
RE: Anne

Location: The wastes
Theme:

Bureau notes: *Drugs intensifies*
LORE | CHARACTERS

Anne was starting to get used to how the world kept shifting and changing around her. While it still made her motionless and still for a few seconds, she could pretty easily see the.. uh.. chief gunning down some alien things with their plasma pistol when it was done. She felt kind of.. laid back. If this was what she thought.. she couldn't die, right? From the way she'd been picked up- She probably was the mission asset. So even if she did die, she'd respawn a few seconds later. Well, while she was here- Prehaps she could ask them what sex they were, or something. She didn't want to get in the way- That wouldn't be good for anyone.

She watched in mild amusement as the other mission objective ran towards the aliens, before coming back. She wasn't concerned about the alarm. Probably was scripted. And that guy really looked goofy.. he probably was on drugs. A bell rung in her head. She'd been drugged, too! How could she have forgotten? Then... what happened? What was real, what was fake? She squinted as she tried to recall what had happened.. she wasn't part of a videogame.. did that mean..
...
Halo chief was real?
 

Bang Bang

Flibbidy Gibbet
Incoming File ...
To: @ShadowBroker @KnightSergeant @ThisUsernameIsALie @Sir Galahad II @Collidias Rex
RE: GENESIS

Location: Hawwah
Bureau Notes: Kello and Rob, feel free to interrupt Genesis being all Bond Villain confrontational
LORE | CHARACTERS

Classified
"Kello– nothing rash please," Genesis said in anticipation as he spotted Nezha rounding the corner with Nicholas au Arcon at her side, smirking over Rob's shoulder at the both of them. "You're later than I expected," Genesis said, raising his voice to that their newcomer might hear. Patting Rob on the shoulder, Genesis moved past him, dismissing his little outburst as the childish tantrum it was. "Not interrupting though, I assure you. We were just discussing the merits of your speech, shall we say. In particular, your hangups regarding our morality.

"I will assume
," he continued, approaching their visitor as his maiden slipped away, joining the others on the sofas, looking much alike to Jamie's girls in their arrangement, though thrice as deadly. "That you are here to forge an alliance? I'm not entirely sure why you think antagonising the entire population was a smart choice for making yourself seem an attractive ally but, since we are so clearly misguided in our practices, who am I to question you?" Dropping the airy tone, Genesis' face fell cold; the doors leading out of the TechGarden shut; locked.

"As Kello was just saying, you Noblus all seem the same. Big speeches masking monstrous actions. How you can accuse us of being the killers when you just condemned millions to a slow and painful death, or to a live of harming others, I don't know. Exactly what do you hope to gain from that little power play? And more importantly - and I'd advise you to speak honestly here - what do you expect to gain from working with us?"
 

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