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Futuristic HOUNDS: An 80s/90s Cyberpunk Inspired RP [CLOSED]

Sub Genres
  1. Action
  2. Adventure
  3. AU
  4. Cyberpunk
  5. LGTBQ
Characters
Here

Worthlessplebian

Worthless pleb
Wolf wondered a bit, lifting up his cuffed hands to tap his fingers against each other. "My tribe on the streets, homeless folk like me, got into a scuffle with a gang. It was a bloodbath, I tried to strategize the outcome as best I could but... Well, you can only set so many traps." He shrugged. Thinking back, maybe there was another strategy or two that Wolfgang could've tried. However, thinking like that only leads to depression and self-loathing, best not to dwell on the past. "During the battle, Los Angeles' finest broke up the fight, had to pump me with enough sedatives to knock out an elephant that I was so knee-deep in blood and viscera." A hint of pride in his voice could be discerned. Hoping that was enough for Cynthia, he awaited her answer whilst tuning into the conversation between the ninja and other cybers.

"I agree with the ninja. When society grows fat on its' spoils, someone must rise to remind them that they should not be comfortable." This chattering of ideologies will continue on, on, and on. When is this abominable thing gonna arrive at the station? were Wolfgang's thoughts.
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
"The previous status of one is irrelevant, and to hold oneself above the rest of the group because of any perceived status only serves to lower group cohesion."Inadvisable, given imminent indentured servitude with those that one is deriding."
"If I wanted your opinion, gearbox, I'd ask for it." She waved the killer robot off and paid little attention to the philosophical debate as Wolfgang spoke.
My tribe on the streets, homeless folk like me, got into a scuffle with a gang. It was a bloodbath, I tried to strategize the outcome as best I could but... Well, you can only set so many traps. During the battle, Los Angeles' finest broke up the fight, had to pump me with enough sedatives to knock out an elephant that I was so knee-deep in blood and viscera.
"Ah, I see. You're the big bad wolf on the streets." She put her hand under her chin to imitate being in thought "They think they can make a guard dog out of you." She then leaned back in her seat "As for me, I was a bad girl you see." Now her voice adopted a mock sad tone to it. Playing it up for an audience somewhere. "Lot of people dead. Most of them were targets or related to the target somehow...I'm 85% of that." She shrugged "But because my body is the murder weapon, it technically counted as evidence and was going to be in storage somewhere. That meant getting cut up and put somewhere where I 'wouldn't be a threat'. So rather than getting ogled by some creepy intern in the storage units, I took this opportunity to...expand my horizons."
 

Zillamaster55

In Denial About Denial
The steaming hot mug of coffee stared back at Oscar as he tapped a finger on his desk. Brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, it was hard for him to focus on the stack of paperwork he had to get through. Cataloguing evidence, comparing interviews, listing names, other such busywork that usually consumed him when he sat in his office meant nothing to him today.

Several months had passed and he had heard nothing. Not one word from the Hounds. Not until yesterday, when rumors began to swirl around the office that new recruits were getting picked up the following morning. Despite his age, his experience, his position and the job he was applying to, Oscar's heart pounded like a drum in his chest. Noticing the overproduction of adrenaline and cortisol, Oscar's robust hormonal control augmentations kicked in and released a steady stream of soothing neurotransmitters to try and numb the nervousness.

He winced. He missed the feeling of excitement he used to get with huge events like this. These new enhancements, though they had saved his ass more than a time or two, had taken the edge off of things. Fistfights with machete-armed gangbangers became somewhat routine when fear is taken out of the equation.

But there it was again. His heart rate went up, and his augmentations hesitated to release another rush of drugs. He willed hard to try and focus on the excitement, to turn it into a drive, to give him motivation. He reveled in the feeling. He could feel that something big was coming, something good.

His computer screen, having been dormant for several minutes from lack of use, suddenly flickered to life. A notification from the department's internal communications service sat unread in his inbox. Hand snapping out like a viper, he grabbed his mouse and clicked. The message was short, professional, and simple. But only two words mattered

"Application approved"
 

Infab

The Demon Fanatic
As the group of robots and cyborgs (and lone mutant) inside the back of the armored transport continued to speak amongst themselves, the transport continued on. Zipping through the sky just over the seemingly endless stretch of abandoned structures and buildings that were once Los Angeles. Before the third world war, these buildings and streets were filled with life. Families living out their day to day lives. Hundreds of businesses bristling with activity as money changed hands and transports went to and fro.

Sadly, that came to an end during the third world war, when three tactical thermonuclear weapons were detonated in the heart of the city. Buildings and people were obliterated in bright flashes of light and heat, and radiation from the blasts flowed through the city. Killing thousands more, and beginning the early stages of what would come to be known as the Great Change amongst the remaining citizens of the city that had survived the blasts. Those that stayed began to mutate overtime, some perishing from often fatal alterations to their body. Cancer ran rampant in the early days as well.

And nothing could be done until after the war ended, when the world began to pick up the pieces. Emergency shelters in the distant portions of the city became permanent settlements. Those that could be treated were tended to as best as they could be. All the while, the government of the former United States of America were already pushing for the construction of a new city to begin, just to the north up the coast. And later, when the United States, Canada, Mexico, and the nations of Central America united under the banner of the United Nations of North America, efforts were doubled on all fronts. Companies began to research ways to get rid of the radioactive elements in and around the city, and those efforts proved successful in the form of mobile radiation scrubbers.

As the radiation was slowly cleansed from the ruins, some of those that had fled from the city after the blast returned. Some of their descendants did as well. They found hardships waiting for them. Gangs and mutants ran rampant. Life wasn't as nice here as it was in the newly constructed New Los Angeles to the north. But they didn't care. It was their home, and they had returned to it. The fourth world war brought more hardship, in the form of soldiers from foreign lands, death machines, and bio-engineered horrors. But still, the hardened citizens of Old LA pressed on. Determined to live out their lives in the old city as opposed to the new glitzy and glamorous new one.

Forty minutes passed from their departure from the roof of federal penitentiary on an island off the coast of Old LA, and soon they found themselves soaring over the newer low-rise buildings and apartment blocks of Downtown New Los Angeles. Technically, Old LA was part of the Downtown area. Thus, NLAPD officers and SWAT could respond to situations in the ruins of Old LA. Calls for police response happened often, but a good chunk of the time police were unable to respond or simply refused to. Thus, some of the more benevolent gangs have stepped in to act as police on occasion. That, or locals have taken the law into their own hands in the form of vigilantism.

The transport began to slow, preparing to set down in an open asphalt paved landing zone surrounded by tall barbed wire fencing and several armored trucks, painted black with NLAPD stenciled onto the sides in white. Several armored SWAT members stood nearby, weapons armed and ready as they watched the transport stop above them and begin to lower. And as it landed with a thud, the officer that spoke to the convicts inside before returned. "Alright, stand up." he said, as he tapped on a holographic keyboard on his forearm. The chains that bound the convicts to where they were suddenly released from their anchor on the floor, allowing them all to move freely but still have their hands and feet bound together.

David and Alley stood, as did the others that were still sitting. "Face the rear of the cage. When instructed, step out. And welcome back to New LA." he finally said, before tapping away on his forearm. Suddenly, the rear of the cage popped open, and the back of the transport opened up much like the top of a cardboard box. A ramp lowered to the black asphalt, as the sides and roof folded outwards. Reflected sunlight bathed the inside of the transport, temporarily blinding some of the group. And then they heard a voice from outside. "STEP OUT OF THE TRANSPORT."

They did as instructed, each slowly emerging from the transport and looking about. Several of the SWAT members had moved up, some with their weapons pointed at the group. The group now got a good view of their new home. NLAPD Precinct #15, a massive square concrete structure with numerous windows dotting the sides, standing surrounded by apartment complexes and local shopping centers. Outside the fencing was a parking lot, filled with various cars and other vehicles. Each likely belonging to an officer whom worked at the precinct, or a visitor. There was also an impound lot, filled with cars taken from criminals. Some looked as though they were being processed still, officers wandering around them and digging through them.

Some officers were watching, drinking coffee and talking amongst themselves as they stood outside the fencing. Some civilians had stopped to watch as well, pointing from where they were on the sidewalks or at the fence. It was rare to see a prisoner transport coming INTO the precinct. But in the recent weeks, that had changed. Several transports had arrived, bringing a new batch of convicts to add to the newly reinstated Bloodhounds unit. A special occasion indeed.

Some of the SWAT officers motioned for the convicts to follow. "Follow us. Single file line, six feet apart. We're going to take you down to processing." said one of them. Another, slightly shorter, spoke up afterwards with a feminine voice. "You'll be checked out, go through a few pages of paperwork, take a brief cognitive or programming test, and then you'll talk with your new bosses." she stated, eyeing each of the convicts that stood before them. A few dozen feet away, a lone robot stood quietly. His smooth glass face revealing nothing beyond a pair of yellow blocks that acted as his eyes. His hands were shoved into a black leather trench coat, which covered up most of the black jumpsuit he was wearing. He seemed interested in the group, his head tracking them as they moved after the SWAT officers as instructed. And as they walked away towards a ramp leading down beneath the precinct, he followed after them. Casually walking behind them as the transport they arrived on began its take-off procedures. Preparing to return to its origin point.
 
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Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
Shizen's philosophical debate was cut short by the jerking of the transport's landing process, which had proven to be just as well given that the shinobi was certain that the machine could not be reasoned with. They were all curious pieces of machinery, but he knew better than to waste his time trying to understand those calculating AIs jerking about in their crude bodies. When he felt his chains loosen, a part of him already began to instinctively give him numerous escape plans or at the very least moves he could make while his arms and legs were bound in this way. Not many of them would be effective, but the Shinjikēto taught victory at any cost. If a trapped wolf were to gnaw its arm off to escape its binds so that it may tear the throat out of its captor, it would be a considered a victory even if the beast bled out soon after.

None of that would be necessary given the unique situation the cyborg found himself in, though, and he complied with the guard's orders despite seeming apathetic all the while. Even as the opening of those bay doors buffeted them with a blinding light, Shizen didn't flinch. Part of it was due to the flash protection of his cybernetic eyes, another was him taking extreme care not to show any weakness even in this virtually defenseless state.

When the time came to leave the transport and move in a line, he took up a position somewhat near the front, his head on a swivel as he observed the gallery of onlookers. "Are we to be your warriors or your mascots?" the ninja croaked with slight venom in his words. It was beyond him why civilians and other officers that had little to do with this unit would be here to just stand and gawk, yet here they were.

Shizen's gaze met the trench-coated robot's for a moment, looking through him as he squinted somewhat just to silently sigh and shake his head tiredly. It was now a question of what would be longer: their transport to the precinct or the "processing" that they were soon to undergo.
 

joshuadim

the writer
Kane was more than ready to respond to Deeby in how he could still enjoy such debaucheries, just in a slightly more inconvenienced manner, until the transport arrived and their shackles to the floor were disabled. Looks like they were ready to be let out and turned into loyal little guppies for "law enforcement", though Kane was intent on not making their time any easier. If he was going to be forced on these suicidal missions, he would at least have fun doing so in causing as much mayhem and carnage as he possibly could. And if the opportunity presented himself, he would absolutely make a break for it. That was something for him to look forward to as he simply complied with the orders barked at the convicts and stepped out of the transport, coughing as he stepped out into open air. Just in front of the NLAPD precinct in all its ugliness that made Kane scoff at the sight of it.

"Fuckin' hell, being brought in straight to the fuckin' pigs den ain't something I pictured happening." he muttered to himself, before noticing that there were onlookers as well observing them. As Shizen so poignantly pointed out, it was as if they were mascots to be gawked at. But unlike the ninja, Kane loved the attention he was getting. He raised his hands over to the onlookers and shook them, rattling the chains: "ENJOYING THE VIEW YA FUCKIN' WANKERS?" he said aloud with a big-dumb grin under his exoskeleton as he followed the line, "I'LL BE SURE TO SEND YOU SOME NICE POSTCARDS!"

He then lowered his arms and proceeded to move them up and down in a suggestive and insulting manner, cackling as a few on the onlookers would likely be disgusted by such a crude display.
 
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Breadman

Big loaf supreme
Cynthia got up as the transport landed. The barking orders from the officers only annoyed her. Didn't matter, soon they wouldn't even dare open their mouths near her. She walked a few steps before noticing the crowd observing them. Then her other instincts kicked in and she walked down the the path like it was a runway. 'Give them what they want. Just a taste.' She thought as she moved behind Kane. Poor dears. They needed a something to brighten up their time after looking at that shaved ape. The assassin looked towards the crowd again and noticed the few cameras there. Naturally she couldn't stop due to the guards ready to beat them with batons, but she would slip in a wink or blow a kiss their way while on the move.

'Make the impression and make them hungry.' She kept repeating that mantra in her head. A slight smile formed on her face as she could feel the snapshots being taken.
 

Worthlessplebian

Worthless pleb
The succinct but brief silence provided by the halting of the transport gave satisfaction to Wolfgang. Even as he was ordered to rise, this momentary peace would last him enough until the next. Whilst walking, the curiosity of the wolf had gotten the better of him. His eyes trailed to his surroundings, taking in the view. The SWAT members that trained their weapons on them, the processing for impounded vehicles. It has been a while since Wolfgang saw anything above his streets. It triggered a pang of nostalgia as he remembered his father taking him on a cruise around the city in his various cars. The minute but present whispering of the civilians snapped Wolfgang out of his memories. His head slowly turning to face them, silencing those that caught his gaze.

The ninja had asked the leading officer if they were mascots or warriors. "It's both. When we screw up, the police can wash their hands of our involvement. The fall guys." Wolfgang answered. In truth, they were already proving their usefulness as Kane is already giving the public what they want. At least Cynthia, who was in front of Wolfgang, gave a good show to everyone.

Like Shizen, the robot caught Wolfgang's attention. Its' smooth facade puzzled Wolfgang slightly.
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
Time passed as Switchblade stood in front of the gate. A small line forming behind it. The robot looked back to analyze and turned its head back facing forward. It seemed that the local law enforcement was running late on letting the recruits in. At least those without some form of documentation. The machine spotted a stranger walking in the building. A sword handing from his hip. Data available was inconclusive to determine what exact material it was made of, but it could come to the conclusion it was not standard issue to any law enforcement it had seen. Possible street samurai or mercenary?

An overweight officer finally waddled over to the gate with a keycard in hand and a half-eaten bagel in the other. The portly man looked to Switchblade with a conflicting mixture of apathy and curiosity. He shrugged and opened the gate to let the robot in along with whoever else was behind it. Rather lax security for the new center of operations for the Hounds. Or maybe it was just Switchblade that had such grace shown as the sensors picked up chatter from behind. The officer started arguing with someone else. The combat droid merely shook its head, mimicking the action it had observed, analyzed and concluded it best served for such a situation.

Soon enough the robot walked through the actual door into the building and inside the precinct. Observing the surroundings, Switchblade could see the officers walking forward and backwards through the buildings. Some hurrying to their patrol cars, others dragging criminals dumb enough to get caught. The third type were busy looking at the combat droid with unease at it walked through the hall, trying to locate where exactly the Hounds would assemble. Further observation yielded a excellent result as Switchblade found the same man as before. It approached the fellow warrior as calmly as the clanking feet on the floor would allow it.

"Greetings warrior. Are you looking to join the Hounds initiative?"
 

Infab

The Demon Fanatic
Down the ramp the group proceeded, single file as ordered by the SWAT team walking with them. All the while, being followed by the lone robot, his hands shoved into the trench coat that he was wearing. The tunnel was made mostly of concrete, wide and tall enough to allow for several vehicles to pass through at once. Concrete pillars lined the middle, providing support for the roof above, and the asphalt beneath them bore faded marks indicating which direction traffic was supposed to go on either side of the pillars. They also noticed something else, as they first starting passing the pillars.

Most of them were marked with bullet holes and other weapons damage. There were also faded blood stains here and there, and some even staining the walls on either side. Evidence of the early days of the Bloodhound unit.

Further in, they arrived at the Bloodhound garage. Four armored trucks awaited, two sitting quietly while another was being worked on by a group of robot mechanics. The fourth one was apparently being loaded up, several individuals in special body armor walking around towards the back and climbing inside. Some of them paused and gave the group looks, examining their appearances and how they carried themselves, before resuming what they were doing. It was relatively even mixture of humans, cyborgs, androids, robots, and mutants. And they swore they could even make out a clayman or two. The truck was marked with the stenciled words 'NLAPD SPECIAL RESPONSE UNIT' across the side, and beneath it read just the word 'BLOODHOUND'.

Other sights in the garage were automated weapons emplacements, most pointing at the entrance while some were pointed directly at the large bulkhead door at the back of the garage. It was obvious what they were for. Freight containers sat aligned to the right side of the garage, some open and some locked shut. And another large vehicle was parked there as well, hidden between two freight containers with a grey tarp tossed over it. The group could, however, see that the vehicle had what appeared to be armored treads instead of wheels.

As they crossed the garage and eventually arrived at the bulkhead door, the automated turrets seemed to follow them. Tracking the every move of the convicts. It was obvious someone was actually watching them. Each turret had a camera fitted to it, and there were cameras scattered around the garage. Likely to keep an eye on the equipment, and watch for potential trespassers.

The door itself was unremarkable, bearing the markings of the NLAPD and the emblem of the Bloodhound unit. To one side was an intercom system, as well as a card reader. One of the SWAT team members stepped over, and gave the intercom button a press. "Officer J. Nixon, reporting. New batch of recruits coming in." he said simply, before drawing out a card. Blue in color, with the gold marking of DynaCorp on the side. He swiped it through the reader, and an audible click sounded. And then, the door started to shift. Splitting in half, and moving to either side. Allowing the group a clear view inside the room beyond.

Inside, a handful of armed police officers moved about, as well as more of those other individuals in the body armor they had seen before. Some of them paused, glancing towards the doorway to see who was coming in. Others didn't bother. The room was the same kind of concrete the garage and tunnel was made of, but the floor changed from asphalt to a similarly colored concrete. A metal desk sat at the far end of the room, and beyond it were a pair of open doorways, leading further into the complex. The emblem of New Los Angeles, as well as the NLAPD and Bloodhound emblem, were printed in black on the wall behind the desk.

At the desk, a lone police officer sat, flipping through paperwork and looking at a blue holographic display sitting before him. Heavily tanned skin, middle aged, receding hairline, his jaw and one arm completely cybernetic. He glanced up as the convicts were lead in, before sighing. "Step up to the desk, please." he said, tapping once on the screen which disappeared a moment later. Then, he reached into a metal file cabinet beneath the desk and drew out a small stack of papers and a pen. "Leave your mark on the indicated line, and proceed through the door over there. One at a time. A DynaCorp rep is waiting to speak to you all."

The door he motioned towards was one to the left, on the left side of the room. Printed on the door was a single word. 'Processing'. Each of them stepped up to the desk, taking the pen and signing whatever they wished onto the line as instructed, before turning and heading towards the door. And once through, they found themselves standing inside of an odd moderately sized room. The walls and ceiling were made of white marble tiles, while the floor consisted of black tiles. A screen was fitted to the wall, tall and wide, and at the moment was simply displaying the revolving emblem of DynaCorp. As the final recruit stepped through the door, it shut and locked. There was an additional door inside, to the right side of the room, but it appeared to be locked as well. It looked as though they would be waiting for whatever this DynaCorp rep had to say. Maybe it was the same one they had spoken to back at the prison?
 
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Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
There was an odd sense of nostalgia to the way that the concrete walls and pillars greeted the group of convicts, the strange spaciousness that somehow also seemed claustrophobic at the very same time. To Shizen it reminded him of his clan's various bases that were carved out of underground bunkers or warehouses, discrete and defendable to allow them to conduct their training and planning.

The cyborg ninja looked to the bloodstains and bullet holes in the concrete quietly, the corner of his lip gave a twitch. The Shinjikēto had walls like that too.

Once sized up by what he could only presume to be the other Bloodhound unit, Shizen eyed them curiously as they loaded up onto their transport. A different team within their same unit, perhaps? It hardly mattered, as the shinobi would have little say in how they used him regardless. As the doors slid open and the group progressed inside, he was among the first to step up to the desk to sign the document: writing in the kanji for his moniker as best his cuffs allowed him to. Before long he was in the processing room, staring up at the monitor coldly as he awaited for the others.

Locked inside this room, it would appear that he could do nothing but wait. "From one prison cell to another, it seems." Shizen muttered bitterly. This room was far too closed off and spacious for a simple briefing, he was savvy enough to know that at least. Was there any hidden machinery beneath these tiles? Being among criminals, the shinobi would not be surprised if this would be where they were forced to get some kind of implant to insure compliance. It would be foolish to put such a thing past his captors.
 

joshuadim

the writer
Héctor, unaware of the arrival of Switchblade, has been busy window shopping through a nearby vending machine's contents in trying to determine what morning snack he would take. He was deep in thought between deciding whether he would take an artificial-honey bun or a cinnamon roll before his train of thought was snapped to a halt by the introduction made by the robot. He snapped his face in both confusion and annoyance for a moment before realizing what exactly had taken him out of the moment and looked up and down at the robot. Great, another sword wielding robot. As if I hadn't dealt with those already. he thought to himself before shrugging at it's inquiry.

"Already am. Contract with DynaCorp puts me here." he simply stated before returning his attention to the vending machine, dialing in his option with his account being charged by visual ID and collecting his cinnamon roll. He then noticed that Switchblade was still standing there which caused him to scoff: "Didn't know a bot would ever want anything to do law enforcement. People don't seem to like your kind."

---

After having his bit of fun, Kane found himself corralled with the others he was stuck with into the vast concrete structures that awaited and looked around at his surroundings. Mostly he was curious to see how big the NLAPD really was but was also subtly taking notes as to the security in place and how to bust out eventually... if ever given the chance. Regardless, he was rather impressed with the heavy artillery and vehicles the police here were packing that made them seem like almost like a small military, not too dissimilar to DeadEye in its prime. He scoffed at the notion that the two could ever be comparable, but always enjoyed the irony of the police being an occupying force against the people they supposedly protect.

As he was made to sign some form of waiver, Kane simply wrote a large phallus on his line as another insult to the people keeping him captive before being led into the next room that was aptly labelled as processing for them all. Shizen's comment then made him laugh aloud: "A prison cell would at least have a bed in it, this one's got nothing!" the aussie commented aloud, "Wankers couldn't even give a communal toilet for us lot."
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
"People fear me because of my model, I will admit. It is normal for a civilian to fear a weapon of war when its facing them. It would be strange for one without combat experience to feel naturally calm around a war machine like me." Switchblade answered Hector's observation "That is unless I earn their trust first." It pointed to the blade "Like the sword, I was build to kill, but thanks to careful analytics, I awoke to justice. I hope you understand why I would choose to stand with those trying to bring order in this city."
---
Cynthia simply walked forward without paying much attention to her surroundings. It was all the same to her right now. But soon she will be somewhere better. Soon it will all get better. That's what she kept telling herself. She signed the papers with elegant strokes just like they taught her. The others didn't seem too impressed by the newest room they were in and she could see why. The place was dreadfully dull and uninspired. She wrinkled her nose when Kane opened his mouth again. The assassin wondered what was worse. The shit coming from his mouth or his ass.
 

SniperComZero

genuinely awful person
Having lost any interest in continuing her conversation with the particularly thick-skulled cyborgs, Deeby settled back into her near-motionless state. Seemingly content in just sitting there. Waiting.

She came off of the bus with all the obedience that would be expected of a robot, and paid very little attention to the gawkers that were pointing at them, as they were lead into the den of lions. Programming dictated that so many witnesses would be an... unfortunate thing. Logically, however, most of them would be focused upon those who wished to make themselves known. Those making obscene gestures, and carrying themselves as if their lives held any importance. What caught her attention more, however, were the uncleaned splatters, and unrepaired markings of gunfire. Given that this area is still occupied by a police presence... Pointless displays of power.

The only sound that the robot actually made was the same clacking of chains and restraints that everyone in front and behind also had to endure, feet stalking softly on the ground whilst the head turned to the side, and inspected the tracked vehicle beneath. How curious.

Once it was her turn to sign, Deeby stepped up to the desk, pen gripped between two fingers and signing both model and serial number into the space, in perfectly sized print so that it just about fitted. Her head turned around in the room that they had all been lead into, memory picking through every simulation that she had been trained upon. "...High quality construction materials. Installed for applications where a show of wealth is appropriate... Probability is high for this area to be a conference room, or office." Her head turned down, glancing over the rest of the room with the myriad of cameras that had been installed behind the faceplate, and took note of the lack of much other of note than the doors, and the screen that they had been placed in front of. "The lack of furnishing is... irregular."
 

Infab

The Demon Fanatic
As the convicts stood in the moderately sized room, taking in the lack of furniture and talking amongst themselves, they would soon take note quite odd. Something was moving beneath them. Apparently, the tiles they were standing on were not marble, but instead thick tinted glass. It appeared to be a large machine of some sort, pausing beneath each of them for only a few seconds before moving on to another. Once it had rested beneath each of the individuals in the room, the machine seemingly disappeared into the ground beneath them. And then, a voice was heard. A bit cheerful, and coming from the monitor on the wall.

"Greetings! And a warm thank you for choosing to volunteer your services for the DynaCorp and New Los Angeles Metropolitan Police Department Joint Rehabilitation Program! I have a short list of things to go over with you all before we proceed on with your introduction into the program. When I finish speaking with you, you will be given one final chance to opt out of this program, should you wish to. If you should choose to opt out, you will be returned to your holding cells and allowed to serve out your sentencing."

And soon enough, four small projectors appeared from the corners of the monitor. They lit up, manifesting the blue holographic form of the DynaCorp representative they had all met at the prison before them. Alice, as she had been called. "My name is Alice! I am a representative of DynaCorp, assigned to the newly reformed Bloodhound unit as both a liaison as well as to assist with recruitment and general support duties regarding the unit. You might have seen another robot, wearing a trench coat, outside when you first arrived. That would be Rook, on loan from Tachyon Arms. Tachyon Arms is a subsidiary company underneath the wide umbrella of DynaCorp! He will be serving as a member of the support staff as well, providing armory and weapons services to you all should you complete your introduction and recruitment process into the Bloodhounds unit."

She looked to everyone in the room, smiling as she studied each. "Now, to begin. These are details I went over with each of you when I first spoke to you, but I wish to refresh your memories on things. I know sometimes people tend to forget things while in a confined environment like a prison, focusing only on ways to get out, but I wish for you all to know exactly what you will be getting out of this program!" she explained, before motioning her hand towards the monitor. A picture soon appeared, the emblem of the Bloodhound unit. "You are all volunteering for the newly resurrected Bloodhound unit. This Special Response Unit is a branch of the New Los Angeles Metropolitan Police Department, and tasked with investigating and eliminating extreme threats to the people of New Los Angeles. The Joint Rehabilitation Program is directly linked to the revival of this unit. Allow me to explain the perks of joining this program."

She waved her hand again, and the emblem disappeared. In its place, a blank three item checklist appeared, with the words JOINT REHAB PROGRAM appearing at the top of the screen. And then, the first item on the checklist appeared. Clean criminal records. "By volunteering for this program, you are well on your way to returning to public life! Being part of this program, and serving with the Bloodhound unit, will allow you to work off your sentences. For every year you work, you eliminate items from your records. Serve long enough, and you will scrub your records completely!" she explained. She then motioned to the list again. A second item appeared. Freedom. "By being part of the program, you will be allowed to live on the outside once more. DynaCorp will provide you with an apartment in a nearby apartment block, and will furnish your apartment with all the latest high end technology and amenities. If you do not wish for an apartment, you may reside here in one of the Bloodhound residential rooms, and be provided with a bed and place to store your things. You will be able to live a normal life, amongst the public. Go to concerts, see a movie, eat at the fanciest restaurants, and so on! No more prison cells or holding pens! DynaCorp will also pay you to be part of this program as well!"

Then, the third item appeared. Employment. "If you should serve out your terms with the Bloodhound unit, and wish to leave it, then we at DynaCorp will offer you full-time employment! You will be given the chance to work as either a private contractor for the company, continuing to make as much money as you were being paid as part of the Bloodhound unit in addition to a rather large bonus, or you may choose to work in another area of the company or in one of its many subsidiary companies! You will never have to worry about having to find a job!"

She then looked back at everyone in the room, still smiling. "Do note, however, that this does come with some rules. You will be considered law enforcement officials during your time with the Bloodhound unit. You must do everything asked of you. And you will be kept under constant observation, by both the NLAPD as well as DynaCorp. Should you break the law, you will be arrested and sent back to prison to serve out your sentences. Or, you will be killed, depending on the situation and severity of your crimes! This is a rehabilitation program, not a chance to get out and just return to what you were doing before. We wish to help you, but you have to work with us! Okay?"

Then, the screen returned to its previous state. Completely blank. Alice then motioned towards the door they had all entered through. "If you wish to opt out of this program, and return to life in confinement, please exit through the door you entered through. The SWAT officers outside will escort you back out, and you will board another transport when it arrives. However, if you wish to continue and be part of this program, please..." she said, before motioning to the other door, "...continue through this door! You will finish processing, and be introduced to your new commander as well as the rest of the support staff. You will also be given your team assignments. I'm sure you saw Alpha team as you entered. They are currently on their way to their sixth assignment this week!"

Not long afterwards, Alice faded from existence. The holographic projectors slipping back inside the monitor. Then, both doors unlocked and opened. Alley glanced to the others standing in the room, before chuckling. "Don't know about you guys, but I'm going through there. Orange jumpsuits ain't a good look for me." she said, before strolling through the door further into the building. David also glanced to them, before quietly following after her. He wasn't going back to prison.

Upstairs, just outside the police precinct...


Jack quietly stood outside the precinct, just beyond the large gate in the fence surrounding the building, gazing down at his tablet. Smoke drifting from the cigar jutting out the corner of his mouth. The tablet listed numerous call refusals, however they weren't ones he had refused. Quite the contrary to how it looked, he wanted to talk. But his son didn't. He hadn't since his mother's death. Jack's wife's death. Eventually, after gazing at the tablet for a few more moments, he tucked it into his coat and looked up at the precinct. This was practically becoming his second home, as much as he hated it.

Afterwards, he glanced around. Officers and civilians moving about. A normal day at the precinct, really. Especially in the downtown area of New LA. But he wasn't here for normal cop work. He strolled towards the front of the building, walking straight towards the large black glass doors. Once inside, he paused just at the scanner and flashed the two officers standing there his badge. They let him sidestep the scanner, moving further into a large open room. Most precincts were like this in the city, with a nice open area in the front to appeal to the senses. Beyond the front room, however, everything grew a little claustrophobic. Small offices, long hallways, cubicles, a typical police station. At least they had replaced some of the walls with sheets of thick glass to help ease that trapped feeling for some.

Marking the floor was the large emblem of the New Los Angeles Metropolitan Police Department. The rest of the floor was white marble tile, while the pillars, ceiling, and a few walls were made of pretty standard smooth concrete and stone. The front desk, large and circular, was made of mahogany wood and had two uniformed police officers manning it. Other officers moved about, some with civilians or with criminals. A few simply had paperwork.

There were a few that stood out, however. Such as the cyborg and robot at the vending machines nearby. Both were carrying swords. He knew what they were here for. "Hey, you two." he said, stepping over towards them. "You here for the Hounds unit?"
 
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Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
While Shizen was paranoid about hidden machinery waiting to forcibly implant them with some form of compliance device, he only gazed downward as he could barely make out the machinery moving beneath them. Judging from how they silently sat below the group he ascertained that these were scanning devices of some kind, which he thought strange due to the fact that they were all convicts. Their physical attributes and other such information should already be on record with the NLAPD, should they not? Odd as it was, it hardly mattered.

The Claywoman on screen was familiar, and the ninja craned his neck upward as he listened to what she had to say. What was most striking was the fact that she was treating them, these weapons of the police force, as if they were people. Granting them apartments and amenities? Integrating them back into society? Reducing their sentence and earning their freedom? It all seemed far too good to be true, though if any corporation could make such arrangements it was DynaCorp. To Shizen he understood that the high mortality rate would make sure that most of the long term benefits of their position would never see fruition. A proverbial carrot on a stick they will never reach.

At the very least they learned the identity of that strange robot that was tailing them. Yet another member of staff that the cyborg would have to interact with, though since it would provide armor and weapons to the unit Shizen would have to see if he could get his equipment back from the droid. When the projection shut off and they were alone in silence, he looked to Alley as she made her choice. The ninja began to stride forth in his shackles behind them, nodding if only slightly. "I am not an animal to be caged. This second chance is how I shall reach the full extent of my potential." he declared, going into the door next.
 

Worthlessplebian

Worthless pleb
During the whole trip through this concrete coffin, Wolfgang resolved himself to simply keep quiet and observe. Many things caught the mutant's eye, such as equipment that bore their namesake. The bullet holes and dried blood increasingly reminded him of some of the alleyways. His cuffs and clothing began feeling very tight, the feeling of wanting to bolt out of his skin became apparent. Maybe they decided that they did not want to risk the legal headaches of actually employing dangerous criminals and assassins so getting rid of them with a heavy calibre to the back of the skull was their way of ridding this world of trash. His fingers began to scritch and scratch against the chitin of the others.

A measure of relief did wash over the mutant when he was presented with the order of signing a piece of paper. Not to be outdone by the legalese of some corporate hired legal team, Wolf carefully read over his contract before signing it with his wavy signature. He then proceeded to follow the others to the "meeting room" as their robot compatriot identified. This seemed less like a meeting room and more of a box, though Wolfgang suspected that they weren't quite alone.

His suspicions were proven right when the motions of an unidentified machine circled beneath their feet. The protrusion and projection of a screen surprised him, he wasn't expecting the meeting to be done like this, but thinking about it, made it seem like the ideal situation. Safely behind a screen, while dangerous felons could eliminate without any danger to the employee of DynaCorp.

Listening to the offer, Wolfgang reached the same conclusion as Shizen. Though with the added appreciation for the elegantly constructed legality of it all. Any unsanctioned move that they made would be punished while the L.E.Os would keep their hands clean. 'Oh, how could we know that this maniac would do such a thing, we had him under surveillance twenty-four-seven! He must have been truly insane." The prospect of being framed also popped into Wolfgang's mind though at least that would alleviated since DynaCorp would be responsible for the hounds' bodycams, at least that's the impression the representative gave off.

Regardless of his worries, anything is better than rotting in his cell.

"As they say: nunc aut numquam*" Following Shizen closely behind.

*now or never
 

joshuadim

the writer
Kane only half-listened to the corpo-speak jarble displayed to him and audibly yawned as Alice explained how they would be serving essentially as leashed animals for the police to sic onto unsuspecting lowlifes. But what intrigued him was the supposed level of freedom, even if under surveillance, given to them to live out on the outside of a prison cell. He might be able to take advantage of that... after all they're likely to not have eyes everywhere possible. Kane chuckled as the DynaCorp presentation ended and gave a mocking clap: "Well fuck me, who knew it was this easy to get rid of war crimes charges?" he asked rhetorically before shivering in place, his withdrawal continuing to kick in.

If going through that door meant getting his fix then he might as well have already signed up as he quickly stepped through the door following both Shizen and Wolfgang.
 

Infab

The Demon Fanatic
As the convicts stepped through the doorway, they found themselves in a short concrete hallway which veered off to the left at the end. A large black arrow pointing towards the left was painted on the wall, and another SWAT officer stood next to it. As they neared him, he motioned with his rifle in the direction the arrow was pointing. "Follow the arrows to the medical bay. There, you'll meet the chief medical officer and a team of other officers like me. They'll go over the NLAPD side of this...since I'm sure that DynaCorp rep didn't." he said, as they passed him. Another concrete hallway, another arrow. And then, a flight of stairs descending down further into the complex.

Once they had reached the bottom of the closed in staircase, they would find themselves at a bulkhead door which slid open upon their arrival. Inside, a white, pristine medical lab. Several medical beds were lined up on either side of the room, with high end medical equipment next to each. Standing in the middle of the room was a cyborg woman, wearing a black and white outfit which featured a hood that covered most of her head. Oddly, her head featured a mechanical beak-like face. "Seems we have a bird for a doc." muttered David.

The woman had her hands clasped together before her, as she glanced in their direction. Nearby, a geared up group of SWAT officers awaited. Standing before them was their apparent leader, a man wearing a blue beret. His face was uncovered, unlike the SWAT officers they had seen so far, which allowed them to see his rough, barely shaven face. His eyes were apparently cybernetic, giving off soft red sheen as he inspected each of the convicts upon their arrival. "Alright. Ladies and gentlemen, I am Captain Brass." said the officer in the beret, stepping up. He folded his arms, before nodding towards the beds on either side of the room. "Take a seat. This won't take long."

As each of them did so, he continued. "DynaCorp has already informed you of their side of the Joint Rehab Program. Now, I'll fill you in on our side. During your first twenty-four hours here with us, you will be fitted with a compliance device. A collar or an implant. Both do the same thing." he explained, motioning to a SWAT officer nearby who held up a collar. "These collars and implants were developed by Tachyon Arms specifically for this program. Once the collar has been fitted around your neck, or the implant has been inserted into your body, you will be monitored every second for the next twenty-four hours. If you fuck up even once, the collar or implant will hit you with a powerful electrical charge. Powerful enough to drop most of you like a sack of bricks, and leave you incapacitated until we revive you here in this room. And your next trip after that will be back to prison."

"Those of you that don't drop...there's an alternative. The collar and implant have a secondary explosive package. You will be given a single warning." he stated, before the SWAT officer holding the collar flicked his finger against the side of it. A moment later, the collar emitted a loud statement. EXPLOSIVE CHARGE ARMED. "Continue to fuck up, and the charge will detonate. And you will pop like a balloon. Understand?"

The SWAT officer set the collar back down, and Brass continued. "Attempt to remove the collar or implant, and boom. Try to short circuit the collar or implant, and boom. Once the day is up, we will remove the collar or implant from your bodies, and you will be free to do whatever. I frankly don't give a fuck, as long as you don't go out and murder someone or rob a bank. In other words, don't make my day any harder than it is."

Soon, the woman walked quietly over to the table and picked up one of the collars. She then moved to the closest person to her, that being David, and slipped the device around his neck. He didn't say a word, only looking towards Kane sitting across from him. Brass continued to speak after a few moments. "You will be given trainee uniforms, tailored to your sizes, if you are able to wear clothing. If not, you will be given a trainee ID tag which you will place somewhere visible on your frame. These will indicate your involvement as a trainee with the Bloodhound unit. Once the collars come off in twenty-four hours, and implants come out, you will be given proper uniforms, ID tags, and badges. Quite frankly, I don't think you should have badges, but my superiors do."

"You will be given a pistol during your training as well. I'll let Rook explain that outside. Beyond that...I guess all I need to say is act like cops, because you'll be cops. You'll investigate crimes and other activity. You'll make arrests if possible. You'll take down threats to the public, and to the city. You'll be Hounds. Unlike the last time the Bloodhound unit was around, SWAT will be backing you up. You can count on us to put holes in the shit you miss or can't focus on. The nasty shit...Automats, Beedubs, Virals, Headhunters, and so on...we'll leave to you."

As the medical officer made her rounds, moving between each of the group with a collar or implant, the SWAT officers watched them like hawks while one of them began to unchain all of them. Weapons ready in the event they attempted to fight back. It was almost as if they wanted them to fight back. Eventually, she finished, and returned to where Brass was standing. "This is Lily. She'll be the woman you should probably try to get along with the most. If you get fucked up, she'll be the one to patch you back together." he said, briefly motioning to her. She awkwardly waved to the group, looking down shyly at the floor.

"Now, stand up and head through that door. Rook's waiting for ya." said Brass finally, turning and pointing towards a set of wide double doors at the end of the room. They were open, and the group could see some activity outside. Standing just outside the doors was the same robot in a trench coat as before.
 
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Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
All Shizen could do was follow the instructions as he made his way down to the medical bay, only partially interested in the layout of the complex for reasons of necessity. If this was to be where they would work for the foreseeable future it was wise to figure out what hallway lead where. It would be especially prudent to have this information in the event of an emergency or attack. Once inside he noted the rather queer cyborg that was standing in the center of the room, and what was even more strange than her looks was the fact that she saw no reason to introduce herself.

Taking a seat, the cyborg ninja raised a brow at the captain's bravado and explanation of how things would be handled here. At the mention of a compliance device, Shizen audibly scoffed with the knowledge that he was right to be paranoid earlier. In some respects it would be foolish to not fit criminals with such devices for the sake of insurance, but that still did not mean he would be happy to receive such an implant. The demonstration of how it worked confused him, however. Did he have to prove to them that they were real and would do what they said he did? It seemed rather pointless to waste their time with theatrics.

"A pistol? There is no thrill in avoiding confrontation by fighting at a distance. I am a warrior, leave such by-the-numbers outfitting for the grunts you place on the front lines. Your cause is not one I shall stoop nearly so low for." Shizen spoke up to the captain, eyeing the SWAT officers that seemed eager to fire upon him and the others. "Even now your comrades find safety in such tools. They would not fare well if I were out of these chains."

With a good deal of his neck being made of composite materials and metal it would seem that an implant was prepared for the type of hardware he was using, slotted in rather quickly with a locking bolt that he knew better than to try manipulating. He found it odd that this Lily seemed to be afraid of them, or perhaps it was a more... social anxiety rather than for her own personal safety. "Do not look so afraid." he quietly said to her. "I would hope you are more confident in the operating theatre than now." It didn't seem like he was trying to make a slight at her with that.

Shizen stood up and moved to the door where Rook was waiting for them, silently eyeing the unit as he waited for the rest of the convicts.
 

Breadman

Big loaf supreme
"Great, this shit again." Cynthia said with an annoyed tone as she rolled her eyes and the explosive charge was planted into them. "You know I have at least three other ones in me somewhere, could have just armed one instead of giving me an itch." She continued to mutter to anyone who would listen.
A pistol? There is no thrill in avoiding confrontation by fighting at a distance. I am a warrior, leave such by-the-numbers outfitting for the grunts you place on the front lines. Your cause is not one I shall stoop nearly so low for. Even now your comrades find safety in such tools. They would not fare well if I were out of these chains.
"Eh, pistols are kinda cute." She shrugged. "Compact and easy to sneak in a lot of places." Cynthia looked to the medical officer next "Hey doc, you don't happen to have adrenos on you?"
 

Worthlessplebian

Worthless pleb
The unwieldy collar was fit awkwardly around Wolf's neck. The reason why a collar instead of an implant had opted for the mutant was likely due to the uncertainty of how his unique biology operated. Rather how uncertain the NLAPD was in how the chitin plates worked. Did not want to risk their expensive tech getting lost because the criminal somehow managed to pop it out. The SWAT officer introduced the Bloodhounds chief medical practitioner. Her beaked mask unnerved Wolfgang, reminding him of the horror stories that were told in history class about the plague doctors of Europe. In the end, the mutant could only manage to express. "Hello, Lily." And a small wave to the woman.

Wolfgang only managed to scoff at Shizen's arrogant bravado. "This, shocking, cyborg." He muttered under his breath.

After Wolfgang stood up, he immediately did a short warmup before entering where their training will be executed. Then he proceeds to excuse himself with a nod towards Lily and the Doctor. "Finally, a chance to really get a workout!" The mutant exclaimed as he followed behind Shizen, leaving the other inmates to do whatever it is that they do best.
 

joshuadim

the writer
Given the nature of his exoskeleton, once it was Kane's turn to be put onto a leash like a mad dog he was outfitted with a collar of his own similar to Wolfgang although he simply laughed as it was secured around his neck. "If it weren't for the impending death coming from this thing, I'd say this would be kinky." he commented aloud as it whirred to life, signaling its ability to kill at any moment. Very uncomfortable though, neck'll sure be stiff like a plank after this. he then thought to himself as he shivered and dry heaved as a beginnings of full body pain began to take root throughout his body. "...say, you wouldn't happen to have any morphine on you would you miss?" he then asked Lily, "Need it for the pain."
 
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Infab

The Demon Fanatic
Lily didn't respond to the cyborg ninja as he passed her by, continuing to stare at the floor nervously as the others stood up and moved themselves. She did, however, wave again at Wolfgang. When Cynthia spoke, Lily looked up. Adrenos? "O-Oh, yes. I read over your files. You n-need adrenos, and Kane needs m-morphine injections." she stammered, her voice rather soft as she began fiddling with her arm. She tapped on a set of holographic keys, cycling through words on a small holographic display on her wrist. Finally, she arrived at what she was looking for. "A d-dose of adrenos, specially formulated for y-you. It should l-last you for at least seven hours, due t-to its potency, but i-if it wears off early, then you c-can come visit me again." she stated. As she finished, a large needle manifested from a hidden compartment in her palm. Sliding out of a small opening in the center of her hand, until it reached full length. She moved around Cynthia, until she located an injection port in the back of Cynthia's neck. Just at the base, where the neck meets the shoulders. She slipped the needle in with a sharp thrust, before pulling it back out a few moments later. "D-Done. I-I'll keep a log of y-your injections, so you d-don't overdose."

She then tapped away on her wrist again, as Kane moved up and spoke. "M-Morphine...G-Got it." she said, again stammering. And a moment later, she did the same thing she had done to Cynthia. "A-As with Cynthia, I will keep a log on your i-injections as well." she stated afterwards, stepping away. The SWAT officers watched each of them as they moved, walking towards the exit to where Rook stood waiting. And once everyone had gathered, the robot spoke. "Welcome to the dog house, ladies and gents." he said, his voice bearing the metallic tinge of a robotic voice box. He backed up a few steps, allowing them to step out of the medical bay and into the open room beyond. Here, they got a near perfect view of their new home away from home.

They stood inside of a rather large atrium, with three floors above and two more below. Numerous personnel were wandering about, most either wearing the standard uniforms of the NLAPD or wearing what appeared to be the uniforms of DynaCorp personnel. They also saw more of the same individuals that they had seen getting into the truck before, but they were more relaxed here. Some eating, others looking through paperwork. Some were even carrying weapons or other items like crates and canisters. Most of the structure was made of the same concrete that they had been seeing, but the floors were made of a sort of smooth dark tile which looked as though it needed a bit of waxing. There were steel railings, which helped make sure people didn't just fall off each level, and there were a set of stairs as well as a large elevator on one end of the atrium which allowed for travel between floors.

"First and foremost, my name is Rook. Like the chess piece. I'm here thanks to some assholes way above me at DynaCorp deciding that my scrawny ass needed to be here instead of at the Tachyon factory in Nevada. While I'm here, I figured I should probably make the most of it." spoke the robot, walking over and leaning against the steel railing. He shoved his hands in his pockets before continuing. "I'm your guns and ammo guy, your armor and equipment guy, and your vehicle guy. I make sure the shit you use stays in working condition, so that it keeps you alive. You're better alive than dead, right?"

He tilted his head, inspecting each of the group, before continuing. "Let's get this out of the way, too. You probably don't want to be here. I wouldn't want to be here. This shit's insane. But there's a way out in the end, if you can manage to keep it together and work with the others." he said. "Work with me, and I'll work with you. You need something, ask. Weapon upgrades? Done. Fresh armor plating? Also done. Fresh coat of paint and a tune-up on your slick ass ride? Throw me the keys, I'll see what I can do. But don't steal from me, and don't screw with me. It's that simple."

Once he finished, he nodded. "Remember that, and we'll get along perfect. Now, general tour before I give you your new threads, IDs, and pistols. Or a sword, if you're one of those special types of people. Much respect for being that kinda brave." he said afterwards, before shifting a bit and looking back. He pointed up, his metallic fingers motioning to the upper floors. "Top floor is basically a sub-level of the police precinct above. You go there if you need to hand over evidence from a scene or some guy you fucked up. Living criminals go there as well. Dead ones go to the morgue, obviously. Floor just below it is what you saw on the way in. The guy at the desk, two big open archways, bunch of cops wandering around as well as other Bloodhounds. Garage is also on that floor too. The large elevator at the end of the atrium doubles as a cargo lift in the event we need to bring something big in."

"Next one, just above us, is the living quarters and recreational area of the Hounds. Need to relax? Sleep? Get something to eat that isn't from some fast food joint or restaurant in the city? Head there. They have video game tournies here every Wednesday, and movie nights are Fridays. Tonight's movie is My Bloody Valentine. I didn't pick it. My vote was for the Commando remake."
he continued, before pointing to the floor they were on. "Medical Bay, and Science Lab is on this floor. Lily is usually in the Medical Bay, if you need her. She's...not good with people, socially. Shy and all that, so just take it easy with her. Science lab is across the atrium on the other side. Its for those situations where something nasty comes up, and we need to research it before we act. Viral outbreaks, Beedubs, and so on. If you see some guys wandering around in hazard suits in there, don't go in. Its for your protection, as well as everyone else's."

He then motioned over the railing below. "Armory and firing range is below us on the next floor. I'm usually down there when I'm working, or up in the garage. When I'm not doing anything, you can find me on the recreational floor. And down below that? Command floor. That's where your new bosses will be located. There's an operations center, a briefing room, and a few offices down there."

He then straightened up, looking to each of them again. "Alright, that's the general tour. Let's get you boys and girls suited up, shall we?" he said finally, before motioning for them to follow. David and Alley glanced to the others before following afterwards, the group walking around the atrium to the stairs. They descended to the next floor, walking down a set of concrete steps until the armory was in sight. "The standard issue pistol for the Bloodhound unit is the Tachyon Arms Titan-7. Semi-Automatic, firing .50AE ammunition. Ammunition comes in standard, armor piercing, high explosive, and my own super special blends. Has a built in muzzle brake for recoil management. Big gun, big bullets, for big threats. And trust me...knowing the history of the Bloodhound unit, the threats get pretty big." he explained as he walked. "If you're the street samurai or ninja types, we also have a few of Hideaki Corp's high frequency katanas, sabers, and longswords. I can customize them a bit to suit you, but you'll likely ditch them for some other high end swords like most do once your twenty-four hour training session is up. So what would be the point of even customizing them? Use them until its time to take the collars off and implants out, then get something else."

Eventually, they rounded the corner through the Armory's entrance archway and found themselves in a rather wide, expansive room. Lining the walls on both sides were rows of weapons and pieces of armor. Various tables were arranged throughout, with some weapon parts and tools scattered across them. In the back was what appeared to be a doorway leading to ammunition storage, while another lead to what was listed as 'experimental weaponry'. "All this is for you guys to use as you need. Whatever the threat, we likely have what you need to take it out. But like I said, if you need something...you ask. Don't steal from me." said Rook, guiding them to a table nearby. Some of the weapons looked absolutely ancient, while some looked nearly brand new. Alley even pointed out what appeared to be a modified AK-47. 20th century tech, and there it was. Rook noticed her singling it out, and chuckled. "In the modern age, sometimes its more useful to go old school. Especially when you're dealing with Automats and AI who can hack your weapons."

Once they arrived at the table, he took a weapon from it, and lifted it up to show them. "The Titan-7. Get used to it, because most of you will be carrying one as your standard side-arm as long as you're a Hound." he said, before handing the pistol to David. David took it, wrapping his hand tightly around the grip and feeling the weight. Descent weight, even if it was meant as a brutal skull popper. Rook then motioned to the table, where other ones were laid out. "All standard issue. If you intend to use pistols, take one. If not, there's swords on that rack there." he stated, before pointing to a nearby weapon's rack. Upon it were easily two dozen swords. "Once you've chosen your weapon, go over to that table and get your training uniforms. They'll have your names on them. Put it on when you find yours. If you can't wear one, then I'll print an ID tag on you somewhere visible." Rook then held up a tool that he drew from his pocket, which looked like some sort of odd automatic stamping gun.

He motioned to another table across the room, where a set of dark blue uniform-like jumpsuits lay. Each of them appeared to have a set of basic armor plating on them, to protect the wearer from basic weapons fire and bladed objects. Certainly seemed like training equipment, that's for sure.
 
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Dmaster

Sautekh Nemesor
As they stood outside and waited Shizen rolled his wrists now that he was no longer in those restraints. With a pair of completely cybernetic arms, there was absolutely no reason for him to do so beyond just habit. Being one of the first to exit the medical bay since he was not crippled by any drug addiction, he kept to one spot and just stared down the robot before him passively. Now that the cyborg was a bit more free than he was moments earlier, he stayed silent and waited for what the group may do next.

As the unit gave its verbal tour he began to wonder how many times the machine had made this introduction. How often did DynaCorp lay claim to hopeless convicts to fight their near-suicidal battles for them? Even if the unit was decommissioned in the past, Shizen had little idea if this Rook was a part of the support staff for its original run. Though perhaps that didn't really matter. The mentions of kitchens and other such leisurely sites within their base gave them pause next. Distractions and idle wastes of time did very little good for keeping the mind and body sharp, however he could not help but think that such benefits made this place feel like even less of a prison. Though for as disciplined the ninja was he would be foolish to think that he would not partake in at least a few of those places the robot had listed, so he made sure to commit them to memory.

When they finally arrived in the armory, Shizen ignored the guns and made for the rack of several blades that took up a good portion of the room. His hands were behind his back as he was looking over the craftsmanship from a distance as Rook explained their sidearm. As he stated in the medical lab, he would not be partaking in the use of something as big and loud as a firearm. "Hideaki Corp. Yes..." the cyborg says aloud, tone slightly wistful as his accent came through in those murmured words. Slowly he takes up one of the katanas, holding his arms out at chest level before slowly unsheathing the weapon.

Dropping the sheath on a ledge beneath the rack of swords he took up what appeared to be a combat stance, legs spread as the blade was held in both of his palms. With the weapon vibrating rapidly in its engaged state, it would silently crackle with arcs of electricity every few seconds or so. He suddenly transitioned the sword so that its edge was pointed upward, turned about as if he was blocking an incoming strike while also examining its edge. Despite some clearly electronic lights and switches on the handle, it seemed quite ordinary were it not for the almost-invisible charged field of energy surrounding it.

"A serviceable weapon, though far from the most well crafted. I have fond memories of using this model as a training sword when I first joined the ranks of my clan." Shizen stated, only to quickly perform a series of rapid diagonal slashes at the air to test the weight and balance of the sword. His movements are nearly a blur, though they seem far from random - indicated by how he finishes his flurry of strikes by bringing his heels together and quickly shutting the sword off, grabbing the sheathe and putting it to his hip while fluidly twirling the katana about to put it away for the time being. "As you said, machine. I will be aiming to get my real weapon back from you soon."

When Rook motioned to the next room Shizen began to follow the robot's hand with slow steps, starting to look among the jumpsuits. Dark blue was better than prison orange, but he knew that it did not compare to the stealth field of his armor. Was giving them this basic equipment for 24 hours a mere test? That was his only thought as he grasped one of the suits in a fist, squinting down at it. By either a stroke of luck or pure intuition, the one he picked up first was his.
 
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