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Futuristic Lost Youth - [CLOSED]

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mothspit

ɖɛʍօռ ȶօ ֆօʍɛ, ǟռɢɛʟ ȶօ օȶɦɛʀֆ
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"You know, this contact of yours couldn't have picked a more crowded meetup."

Ursula's stoic, emotionless gaze curiously examined the thumping dance floor of Bubble Rush-- The Crown's most prestigious nightclub. With her hands shoved into a baggy, oversized jacket, she tilted her head down, the tops of her eyes looking into a sea of dancing bodies over a pair of reflective sunglasses. She blew a large, hot-pink bubble from her lips, popping it shortly thereafter with a sharp inhale. As she subconsciously bobbed her head to the beat of an obscure (but catchy) techno song, the man of the hour-- Reggie, her loving brother-- stood with his back firmly pressed against one wall. Nearby, a string of dancers on a tiny stage beckoned his gaze with suggestive gestures. He shuddered, flipping up the hood of his jacket to avoid their tantalizing looks. Any other night, and maybe.. No, stop it Reggie. This is serious. Serious serious serious. Eyes on the prize, buddy.

"I know. It smells like E-Corp in here," He quipped with a scoff, jerking his thumb at a small group of suits huddled around the table of a tall dancer at one end of the room. Her unenthusiastic look, coupled with the rigidness of her movements made it clear she didn't want to be here anymore than the siblings did. Looking around further, and he noticed a myriad of peculiar characters. One man, disheveled in a stained and ruffled uniform, sat slumped over a table, snoring away without a care in the world. A group of women all wearing the same pencil skirt and up-do had just ordered their third round of drinks-- Reggie was keeping count-- Since they arrived. He assumed that even pencil-pushing cigar-smoking money-grubbing corporate slaves had their fun, but seeing them out in the wild, without that professional burden.. was totally surreal. ..They were still jerks, though.

This small search for an unknown figure did little to quell his anxiety, and he began to frantically tap his right foot; The metal of his artificial leg tapping against the tile flooring with a series of tings.

"..You're tapping," Ursula said with another pop of a bubble.

"I'm not," Reggie shot back.

"You are. It's annoying."

"You're annoying."

Ursula grinned, masking half of her face with an impressively large bubble, before Reggie popped it by playfully poking it with one finger. He'd normally never bring her on missions likes this-- Any other time, in anywhere but The Crown, and her expertise wasn't necessary. Reggie was capable enough on his own, but given the circumstances.. it didn't help having someone he trusted in a place like this. Not to mention if things got crazy, those metal hands did a lot more than look pretty..

Suddenly, there came the sound of a crackling in both their ears, and the familiar voice of Jean Koi piped up for the first time all evening,
"You're both annoying! What's the hold up, huh?! I'm hungry!"

The siblings chuckled, and Reggie reached up to press the small button of the earpiece behind his shaggy hair,
"You're as lovely as ever, Jean. Having some trouble finding our guy. Just try to be patient."

"Uh huh! You better bring me something to eat on your way back!"

"Are you sure this isn't a setup?" Ursula said with a small frown, "Think about it. Stolen technology, an E-Corp lackey, meeting us in their home territory.."

Reggie's heart rate suddenly spiked with a newfound sense of worry. But, she did have a point. Like pretty much everyone from The Cavity, the only way you were getting an upgraded Augment was by either A.) Getting lucky and finding a new piece every time you went scavenging, or B.) By stealing it. Not only that, but the two of them combined had enough years dealing with Emperion Corporation and it's minions to know that nobody just.. gives away their over-priced tech. Everyone always wanted something. But people talk, and if you have the right connections and the right people, anything was possible. For the past several months, Reggie had been in contact with a mysterious trader-- Someone who claimed they worked for E-Corp, and had a stash of unreleased technology they were looking to get rid of. After weeks of trying to verify their identity from his usual trader-buddies, one thing did become clear; They weren't from The Cavity. Beyond that, though, nobody knew anything, and they certainly didn't dare meet this person on the off chance it was, well.. a setup. Was it possible that an E-Corp lapdog had empathy after all? Who knows; But setup or not, this was an opportunity Reggie couldn't afford to pass up. It was an itch that needed to be scratched, and one thing anyone can about Reggie? He had a hard time saying no. Especially if it meant fucking up someone on Miles' payroll.


"The way I see it is this," He explained calmly, "If it's a setup, Jean hacks into the cameras, finds out who this guy is, and we threaten to expose him if we don't get the tech. If it's not, we reverse engineer it and flip it for a profit. It's a win-win."

"Roger, roger!" Jean crackled.

Ursula merely shrugged, comically rolling her head to look across the other side of the room. After brief pause, she raises a metal hand from the pocket of her jacket. On the back of her palm, a soft purple light softly blinks as she points across the room, and when Reggie followed her finger, there sitting across the dance floor was.. a figure, their head low and shrouded by a dark hood. A single light from the ceiling illuminated the top of their head, but nothing else. Ursula raised a brow and clapped her hand down on Reggie's shoulder, "Good luck, winner."

Reggie swallowed hard. That was him, it had to be. This mysterious contact he'd been corresponding with for months, all the while never knowing their face. The nervous leader made his way over, weaving in and out of the colliding bodies of the booming dance floor. He slid into the booth across from the figure, folding both hands neatly on top of it's table. When Reggie opened his mouth to speak, he found himself struggling to pull the words from the back of his throat. Thankfully, though, he didn't need to, as the person seated across from him got straight to the point.
"CottonMouth3056?" They asked, raising their head up from the table-- Reggie's online alias. The stranger in question was in fact a man; Salt and pepper stubble accompanying the expression of man who hadn't slept properly in several days. Dark rings circled his eyes, a paranoid sweat littered his brow, and he had the look of someone who was definitely suspicious, but trying to appear otherwise. He didn't look that old-- Early 40's, maybe-- But whatever was depriving him of his sleep had managed to put an additional 30 years on his appearance..

"..That's right," Reggie confirmed with a cautious nod, "User58145?"

The man exhaled in relief, "Yeah. Let's get to it, then."

The man lifted a hand from under the table. In it, he held a thin, clear piece of glass, pushing it across the table to Reggie. As soon as he touched it, the surface of the glass lit up like a screen, revealing a type of blueprint. From what it looked like, it was just a concept sketch.. Was this the supposed technology promised to him? When he looked closer, the design of the invention depicted looked something similar to Ursula's hands; A type of artificial gauntlet, equipped with an array of impressive features locked behind a string of garbled letters and numbers-- A safeguard code. But Reggie was pretty familiar with the latest E-Corp tech, and this didn't look like anything currently on the market. When he realized what this meant, Reggie's eyes widened in awe. Information like this was way more valuable than any physical tech.


"This is.."

"..A new prototype from E-Corp, yes." User said frantically, "They're calling it the 'Hand of God.' Development wont begin for another three or four years, let alone it's release."

"..How did you get this?" Reggie murmured, zooming in on the image by pinching the screen, "And why the hell are you giving it to me? This kind of tech.. It could--"

"Set me up for life, I know. I thought I could do this, but.." The man trails off, shaking his head, "Miles is ridiculously paranoid about his technology, so much so that he only makes one blueprint for every model. ONE. All of those blueprints are stored on these keys, I just transferred the print to a spare. They're all plugged into a digital library with round-the-clock security; I found this one in the depths of the archive. One of those security features is a honeypot that I was in charge of monitoring."

A honeypot. Something huge corporations like E-Corp used to lure hackers into a digital trap, tracing their IP's and having them arrested. They'd think they'd just hit the virtual motherload, only to have marked androids bursting through the windows minutes later. Reggie was familiar with the trap; Every rookie digi-delinquent came across them at least once, but once you learned what they looked like and how to spot them, they were easy to bypass. Reggie was thoroughly interested now-- An archive of one-of-a-kind technology just itching to be cracked open, telling untold riches to the first person brave enough to make the damn thing. No wonder nobody had met with this guy yet. It was way too good to be true.

"..So what are you saying, man?"

"I'm saying," User groaned, "The second they find out it's gone, I'm gone. But if a scummy hacker steals the blueprint remotely? Something I would have had no control over?"

"I take offense to that!" Jean said with a hmph.

"..Chances are they'll chalk it up to a breach in security. You snuck into the archive using a backdoor in the honeypot, snagged the blueprint, and buried your tracks under mountains of junk code. E-Corp noticed something had been moved, but they haven't figured out what or how just yet because it's not scheduled for development until years later. You realized how badly you fucked up, and now want to pass the blueprint off to a 'scummy hacker' like me. By the time they do figure out what was stolen, It won't matter."

"Hallelujah, he's fast." The man said with a sarcastic scoff.

In the background, Jean began furiously typing away on a keyboard, "It looks like he's telling the truth. His name is Evan Moralas. Vice President of the Cyber-Security Division of Emperion Corporation. It looks like.. He was overseeing something called 'The Hanging Garden Project,' and not only is it uber-safeguarded, but this guy actually succeeded where someone else failed. There's a data report detailing the tracks someone else took to attempt to sneak past the honeypot, I'm guessing that's where he got the idea. Me likey! Other than that, his record is clean. Poor guy just bit off more than he could chew."

Reggie couldn't believe what he was hearing, and let his back hit the cushion of the booth with a disgusted sneer. With that new information, it now made sense why the guy was just trying to get rid of it rather than sell it-- And it pissed him off. To think for a split second that this guy actually had empathy for those effected by E-Corps greed, but no. He just wanted a scapegoat. Typical-- E-Corp employees could never be satisfied with what they already had, which was already so much more when compared to him and his sister. An eternity of full wallets, mimosas, and unenthusiastic lapdances.. People like Evan had anything and everything they could ever want, but even that wasn't enough. Meanwhile they were digging through the garbage trying to find their next meal. And when wannabe thieves with pocket protectors proved incapable, it would be the fault of the poor.

"The junk code will be enough to throw them off for awhile, but look at me, man. I thought it'd be worth the money, but fuck, I haven't slept right in days. Yesterday, I could have sworn someone was outside watching my apartment. I'm getting the hell out of New Rosehalt while I still can. If they didn't look the other way rather than go through the trouble of decoding it, I will have already been long gone."

Reggie was speechless. This wasn't too good to be true, it was real, and (almost) untraceable. Fair enough, the guy was a moron, but Reggie wasn't about to leave a piece of gold like this behind. He turned off the glass device by swiping away the image and pocketing it with a quickness. No sooner than he had done so had the man across from him made his leave, disappearing into the crowd of patrons like a phantom. Once he was gone, Ursula emerged from the dark of the room where she had been watching. She casually threw herself into the mans old seat, flagged down a scantily-clad waitress, and soon had a tall glass in hand to sip from.

"So," She mused blankly, "Are we happy?"

Reggie blinked to himself, a knowing grin spreading from ear to ear.

"You're not gonna fucking believe this."


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Reggie had been anxiously pacing the floor of his makeshift home for the past hour, each time the resounding thump of his metal leg echoing across the room. The plan was to originally sell the blueprint off to the highest bidder and pull everyone out of the shithole that was The Cavity, but now, dangerous thoughts had crossed his mind. Exciting thoughts. Why stop with one blueprint? Why not get more? Why not them all? There was that itch again-- He couldn't get the idea of the secret library out of his head, and now he had roped the others into his crazy scheme.. after some heated debate followed by an intense period of shameless begging, of course. He could only hope the newcomers would be up for some itsy-bitsy-criminal-activity. Today was the day they were supposed to arrive, after all. Oh god, I'm gonna freak them out aren't I? Shit. Are they gonna turn me in? Chill out Reggie, this is The Cavity. Nobody likes E-Corp here.

He looked over to Jean-- The plucky teenager was happily typing away on a computer terminal, walls of code filling most of the screen. On another screen just to her right, the small glass device given to him several days prior was plugged into some kind of port embedded in the screen. The Hand of God blueprint was pulled up in all it's glory. Jean had been given the task of analyzing the blueprints code, which was unsurprisingly triple-quadruple-super-safeguarded, as she so eloquently put it. It's been three days, and she still hadn't analyzed it's contents entirely. So far, all she was able to recover were minor specs-- Nothing about it's intended purpose, save for regular what-you-usually-use-an-arm-for tasks. But anything more useful than that-- What it was made out of, how to put the pieces together, and what it could do-- Was behind a series of firewalls the young girl was having trouble cracking. At her side stood Philip, staring at the blueprint with starstruck awe.


"Oh man. Waterproof, insane durability, fifty times stronger than the average android, all powered entirely by Ashfort Diamonds.." He murmured, subconsciously running his hand over his own augmented forearm. That gauntlet was every cyborgs dream wrapped into one.

Reggie's head swept over to Ursula, who was comfortably seated on an old, tattered couch, her ears covered with a pair of headphones. The funky techno music she was blaring through them was loud enough for others to hear, but she didn't seemed bothered by the volume. In her hands was a wrinkled magazine, large metal fingers occasionally turning it's pages. Everyone managed to be so calm. Everyone except for him. He suddenly felt sympathy for the man Evan, fully understanding what it was like to carry around this kind of secret.

Suddenly, there came a knock at the heavy metal door. Jean and Philip raised their heads, and Reggie signaled Ursula to take off her headphones. He approached the door and turned to address them, "Everyone be nice, okay? Newbies comin' through."

"We're always nice." Philip joked with a smirk.

"We're nice. You're a pushy megalomaniac." Ursula shot across the room, her face rigid with a stone expression, "For the love of all that is holy, do not be yourself. Literally anyone but yourself. Be like Jean."

"Love you too, babe."

"Don't call me that."

"What did I literally just say?"

With a defeated sigh, Reggie opened the door. There you stood, freshly dropped off from a dodgy bus station, surrounded by others like you. It was sometime in the dead of night, and at this hour, the only people on the streets were those who didn't have a roof to go back too.. or they got kicked out of the local sketchy club. Somewhere in the distance, there was the robotic voices of police androids making their usual nightly rounds. The alleyway where you all now stood was thankfully tucked out of the way from any major paths or roads, and was littered with various kinds of trash and scraps of destroyed technology. The minor teasing that had just taken place was definitely audible through the door, if only slightly, and Reggie had that "I'm smiling on the off chance you didn't hear that because that would be kind of awkward" look on his face. After he motioned for you all to step inside, he had once last glance at the alleyway. With the coast clear, he shuts the door behind them; A string of automatic locks click into place somewhere embedded in the walls.

The room itself was carved into the side of an alleyway, with a staircase that led further underground, presumably to where everyone slept. There's some trash cluttered about a cracked glass table-- A string of empty energy drink cans, a bubbly mascot of a smiling raspberry on their surfaces, some old gum wrappers-- along with a stack of old magazines, similar to the one Ursula held in her metal hands. Jean's workspace was a small desk low to the ground, with a set of screens crudely attached to the concrete wall behind them towards the right of the room. For the most part, it looked like a decent place; Certainly a lot nicer than most places in The Cavity, but it still had that homey touch of 'we pack light in case someone decides to rob us' emptiness.


"Home sweet home. These are who I was telling you about. This is--"

"Ursula." The young woman said with a small nod.

"Yay! New friends!" Jean cheered, tossing her hands into the air, "I'm Jean!"

"Philip, but the ladies can call me whatever they like," Philip grinned, leaning his elbow against one wall.

"--Yeah." Reggie said with a roll of his eyes, "You know who I am. Make yourself comfy, we uh.. have a lot to talk about."


((introduce yo self! for more context: everyone has had minor correspondence with reggie. nothing about the blueprint or his plans, just how to get to the bunker, and he has mentioned the other three youth, just as he has told them about you. anything else you two have spoken about is up to you.))
Zazz Zazz Noam Noam norway norway Goonfire Goonfire
 
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Calypso stepped off the bus last, observing the area and the people in it. Night was upon them, and that meant it wasn't safe to be out unless you knew how to defend yourself and were very much awake. The redhead lit a cigarette, her camo green jacket wading in the slight breeze. She hoped this would be her break, a chance to get back on her feet, but her expectations were not high. They rarely were, these days. The group of youngsters stood out in the alley only for a moment before a door opened, revealing Reggie.

Calypso entered, snuffing out her cigarette in an ashtray sitting on a glass table and tucking it away. She eyed the boy, Philip, with nothing less than a judgmental arch of an eyebrow. She was not going to like him. "How 'bout a piece of shit?" The redhead glanced back at the door when it shut, hearing the locks set in place.

Looking about, Calypso let her gaze take in the four residents: Ursula, with tech hands, Reggie, the peg leg, Philip, the piece of shit, and Jean, the child coder. She could see code all over the moniters, but understood none of it from her distance.

"Cool place. Where do we sleep?"
 
Judith
It was convenient that Judith didn’t have far to travel from the bus stop; she looked completely out-of-place in the cavity. A black cheongsam with a white trim was complemented by a spicy red sheer scarf and matching heels; all these items were featured in fashion publications last year. She carried a suitcase in addition to her purse, the latter of which contained two guns in case she was discovered by the police androids. Judith still had the ‘dress for success’ mindset of middle- and upper-class citizens, who handled most business while looking like fashion dolls. Her tactic involved blending by staying in the middle of her new squad.

There was much to discuss following the recent disappearance of one of her contacts, known as The_Widow. The spy stepped in when invited, glancing around the room. It was somewhat better than most of her hiding spots over the past year. She discreetly rolled her eyes at Philip’s introduction in particular; she couldn’t stand a flirt. However, she could see herself fitting in with the other ladies at some point. “I’m Judith... Clair,” she specified, adding her surname in case it was needed.

Hadrian
The imposing Hadrian looked more at home in the cavity. His favorite jacket had clearly seen better days, albeit years ago; the worn brown leather was patched with squares of black at the elbows. The tall man traced a route with the others to Reggie’s door. His strong hand rapped on said door, alerting the crew of the new arrivals.

Shuffling inside, Hadrian took note of the others in the room. Obviously Reggie, Ursula, Jean, and... no way. “PHILIP, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” he blurted out with glee, moving to pat his old fellow Cap on the back. “I’m Hadrian,” he then informed the others, in case they didn’t already know. “I see great shit happening in our future, man.”
 
When Valentine had talked to Reggie Cotton--very briefly, over a crummy public terminal--she'd kind of gotten the impression that he was as down-on-his-luck as she was, with the exception of having a place to sleep at night with a roof. This, though--this was an actual house, with computers and furniture and shit. And people. Really big, sort of frightening looking people.

Which was fine, she could hang, She could totally hang. She was ultra-cool and ultra-smart and also had a knife, which was the key to success for a modern young woman according to Karissa. She waved at Jean, who looked her age and pretty cool. "I'm Valentine," she announced to the room at large. "What exactly do we have to talk about?"
 
Calypso stepped off the bus last, observing the area and the people in it. Night was upon them, and that meant it wasn't safe to be out unless you knew how to defend yourself and were very much awake. The redhead lit a cigarette, her camo green jacket wading in the slight breeze. She hoped this would be her break, a chance to get back on her feet, but her expectations were not high. They rarely were, these days. The group of youngsters stood out in the alley only for a moment before a door opened, revealing Reggie.

Calypso entered, snuffing out her cigarette in an ashtray sitting on a glass table and tucking it away. She eyed the boy, Philip, with nothing less than a judgmental arch of an eyebrow. She was not going to like him. "How 'bout a piece of shit?" The redhead glanced back at the door when it shut, hearing the locks set in place.

Looking about, Calypso let her gaze take in the four residents: Ursula, with tech hands, Reggie, the peg leg, Philip, the piece of shit, and Jean, the child coder. She could see code all over the moniters, but understood none of it from her distance.

"Cool place. Where do we sleep?"

"Ha," Ursula snickered with a tiny smile. Philip had the ability to be enjoyable when he wasn't an insufferable ass, but seeing someone else give it to him the same way she was known too was all too satisfying, "Bunks are downstairs. Take your pick. We.. have a few spares."

Philip grumbled something under his breath and crossed both arms over his chest, exposing the metal of his forearm, "Yeah, well, whatever.."

Reggie rolled his eyes and took a seat on the opposite end of the couch of his sister, "Before you head to bed, I need to talk to you guys."

Judith
It was convenient that Judith didn’t have far to travel from the bus stop; she looked completely out-of-place in the cavity. A black cheongsam with a white trim was complemented by a spicy red sheer scarf and matching heels; all these items were featured in fashion publications last year. She carried a suitcase in addition to her purse, the latter of which contained two guns in case she was discovered by the police androids. Judith still had the ‘dress for success’ mindset of middle- and upper-class citizens, who handled most business while looking like fashion dolls. Her tactic involved blending by staying in the middle of her new squad.

There was much to discuss following the recent disappearance of one of her contacts, known as The_Widow. The spy stepped in when invited, glancing around the room. It was somewhat better than most of her hiding spots over the past year. She discreetly rolled her eyes at Philip’s introduction in particular; she couldn’t stand a flirt. However, she could see herself fitting in with the other ladies at some point. “I’m Judith... Clair,” she specified, adding her surname in case it was needed.

Hadrian
The imposing Hadrian looked more at home in the cavity. His favorite jacket had clearly seen better days, albeit years ago; the worn brown leather was patched with squares of black at the elbows. The tall man traced a route with the others to Reggie’s door. His strong hand rapped on said door, alerting the crew of the new arrivals.

Shuffling inside, Hadrian took note of the others in the room. Obviously Reggie, Ursula, Jean, and... no way. “PHILIP, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” he blurted out with glee, moving to pat his old fellow Cap on the back. “I’m Hadrian,” he then informed the others, in case they didn’t already know. “I see great shit happening in our future, man.”

Philips eyes widened with awe. No fucking way. Reggie had passed off the name Hadrian, but Philip just thought it was a weird coincidence. To think another one of his old Molar Cap buddies survived the raids after all. He couldn't be more right-- Great things were in store. Like fire and gasoline; And if Philip knew about anything, it was fire. "Hadrian, you dumb bastard!" He laughed and threw his arms around his old friend, giving the man a warm hug, "Reggie, why didn't you tell me this was the Hadrian you were talking about?!"

Reggie raised an eyebrow, "You actually know this moron?"

"Hey man, not cool. Hadrian is--"

"I wasn't talking to you."

"OH! Burn!"

Philip scoffed and threw up a middle finger, "Yeah, yeah, use me as your punchline, fuckers. You're talking to two honorary Molar Caps here."

"Don't mind him," Ursula regarded to Judith with an incline of her head, "He actually got kicked out."

"Hey!"

When Valentine had talked to Reggie Cotton--very briefly, over a crummy public terminal--she'd kind of gotten the impression that he was as down-on-his-luck as she was, with the exception of having a place to sleep at night with a roof. This, though--this was an actual house, with computers and furniture and shit. And people. Really big, sort of frightening looking people.

Which was fine, she could hang, She could totally hang. She was ultra-cool and ultra-smart and also had a knife, which was the key to success for a modern young woman according to Karissa. She waved at Jean, who looked her age and pretty cool. "I'm Valentine," she announced to the room at large. "What exactly do we have to talk about?"

Jean enthusiastically waved back, and patted the space on the floor for Valentine to join her. It was nice to finally have someone around closer to her age!

"Reggie just wants to talk about this," She pointed to the blueprint on one of the screens of her workstation. Aside from those minor specs, a lot of the information was hidden behind a constantly changing string of garbled code, only sticking with one pattern for a few seconds before jumping to the next. It was some of the most advanced coding Jean had ever seen, but coming from E-Corp, she never expected anything less. "Nasty stuff. I'd like to think I know what I'm doing, but even I can't crack it."

"That's right," Reggie confirmed, looking over the back of the couch with a nod, "It's been three days, but I don't know how much longer we'll have before E-Corp finds out we have something they want. You all managed to get in contact with me right when I was about to score us the deal of a lifetime. So, uh.. how cool are you all with, like.. crime..?" He asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. It was an easy enough question, but with the arrival of the newcomers, there would need to be some.. maneuvering. He eyed Judith in particular, remembering what she told him of her past. He didn't feel right about letting someone as young as Valentine, let alone Jean, get involved, but.. He was about their age when he had to do some things he wasn't proud of. Just came with the territory. Plus, Reggie sort-of-kinda-possibly had a fool proof plan to crack that sweet sweet safe tucked away behind E-Corp walls.
 
Valentine plopped down on the floor next to Jean, pulling her backpack into her lap. "I'm totally cool with crime," she told Reggie. "Except, like, murder. I mean, like, I don't have any ethical issues with it or whatever, 'cause like in self-defense it's like. It's self-defense, you know? Just I've never killed anyone?" She was talking too much. "I'm down with crime," she said one more time for good measure, then hunched over and focused on whatever Jean was trying to show her.

The blueprint was overlaid with crawling rivers of code that she couldn't even begin to pick apart. Underneath, though..."I've never seen anything like this," Valentine said in awe. "Where'd you get this?"
 
Hadrian cackled heartily, slapping his exposed left knee. “Easy mistake! He coulda meant either one of us, bro,” he dismissed the jests, making good use of the humor spreading about.

Judith stifled a laugh, a grin threatening to completely seep through her ice queen front. “Savage,” she commented to Ursula. She already knew she’d like this group.

“I don’t do ‘crime’,” Hadrian denied with a snicker before sitting next to his old pal. “I just do uh... ‘sticking it to the rich’, if ya catch my drift.” He shrugged innocently; why not call a spade, a spade? ‘Crime’ would imply any strike versus E-Corp was unjust. He merely fought fire with fire—figuratively. Philip probably did that in the most literal sense...

“It really depends on your definition of ‘crime’,” Judith responded, giving something akin to a classic lawyer’s answer. “Industrial espionage is definitely crime, in a legal sense. What exactly are we dealing with here, Cotton?” She glanced at the screen, reading what was available. It was something fancy, for sure, but did it warrant bringing in a fugitive spy to do the dirty work?

mothspit mothspit
 
The redhead circled the couch once, eyes open to take in her surroundings, and sat. She wasn't a coder, but she knew crime. "It's the Cavity. What do you expect?" She placed her gun on the glass table and leaned her forearms on her knees. "What's the gain and what do you need?" Calypso retrieved her unfinished cigarette and turned it over between her fingers idly.

This was what she was used to. There was no proper business out here. No rules except don't die. Not getting caught was also nice. She just hoped Reggie had better plans than drugs, because she wouldn't stick around. Or maybe she would. Calypso could only hope.
 
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Valentine plopped down on the floor next to Jean, pulling her backpack into her lap. "I'm totally cool with crime," she told Reggie. "Except, like, murder. I mean, like, I don't have any ethical issues with it or whatever, 'cause like in self-defense it's like. It's self-defense, you know? Just I've never killed anyone?" She was talking too much. "I'm down with crime," she said one more time for good measure, then hunched over and focused on whatever Jean was trying to show her.

The blueprint was overlaid with crawling rivers of code that she couldn't even begin to pick apart. Underneath, though..."I've never seen anything like this," Valentine said in awe. "Where'd you get this?"
Reggie chuckled. Valentine reminded him a little bit of himself, when he was that age. Jeez, he felt old. "Don't worry, kiddo. Not that kind of crime. At least, um, hopefully not..?"

"Has anyone ever told you you're awesome with kids?"

"..Anyways," The young man continued, "I, uh.. have my sources. Even E-Corp has people they can't trust, apparently."

Truthfully, revealing the name of the man who handed off the blueprint could prove potentially dangerous. Even if Reggie was surrounded by people who couldn't stand anyone with a wealthy paying job, he also didn't know their intentions, either. Again, he looked to Judith. Did she know Evan Moralas? Would she be familiar with The Hanging Garden Project? He wasn't sure, but regardless, if his name got out on this side of town, it would only be a hop, skip, and a jump away from leading back to Reggie and the other youth. This mission would-- hopefully-- be carried out as silently as possible.

"With any luck, we all walk away unscathed and filthy rich."

Hadrian cackled heartily, slapping his exposed left knee. “Easy mistake! He coulda meant either one of us, bro,” he dismissed the jests, making good use of the humor spreading about.

Judith stifled a laugh, a grin threatening to completely seep through her ice queen front. “Savage,” she commented to Ursula. She already knew she’d like this group.

“I don’t do ‘crime’,” Hadrian denied with a snicker before sitting next to his old pal. “I just do uh... ‘sticking it to the rich’, if ya catch my drift.” He shrugged innocently; why not call a spade, a spade? ‘Crime’ would imply any strike versus E-Corp was unjust. He merely fought fire with fire—figuratively. Philip probably did that in the most literal sense...

“It really depends on your definition of ‘crime’,” Judith responded, giving something akin to a classic lawyer’s answer. “Industrial espionage is definitely crime, in a legal sense. What exactly are we dealing with here, Cotton?” She glanced at the screen, reading what was available. It was something fancy, for sure, but did it warrant bringing in a fugitive spy to do the dirty work?

mothspit mothspit

Philip nodded in agreement with fervent flair. He wasn't an immoral thug, just an anti-capitalist arsonist. There was a difference, dammit!

When Judith spoke, Reggie smiled,
"Jean made a powerpoint."

"Yes I did!" Jean reached into the pocket of her shorts, producing a small remote-like device. When she pressed a button on the device's face, the headway she was making through the code vanished, and was replaced with a series of images mirroring that of the blueprint on the larger of two monitors. The blueprint was split into several layers-- The sketch, the 3D rendered model, and the materials. The material slide was covered in the same kind of safeguard code as the blueprint, giving it the appearance of something sinister and otherworldy. What kind of secrets were hiding beneath that fancy firewall, Jean didn't know. But she planned to find out.

"Behold, The Hand of God!"

"Dun dun dunnnn." Philip joked.

"This, my friends, is an unreleased prototype straight from the vaults of E-Corp. I've been trying to chip away at the firewall that came with the file, but the code is like a snake," She clicked a button on the remote, and the powerpoint changed slides to.. a childish drawing of a snake with a pair sunglasses, "It sheds it's skin. It keeps changing before I can make any progress."

The redhead circled the couch once, eyes open to take in her surroundings, and sat. She wasn't a coder, but she knew crime. "It's the Cavity. What do you expect?" She placed her gun on the glass table and leaned her forearms on her knees. "What's the gain and what do you need?" Calypso retrieved her unfinished cigarette and turned it over between her fingers idly.

This was what she was used to. There was no proper business out here. No rules except don't die. Not getting caught was also nice. She just hoped Reggie had better plans than drugs, because she wouldn't stick around. Or maybe she would. Calypso could only hope.

"Not what I need," Reggie clarified, "What Jean needs."

Jean stood to her feet and changed the powerpoint slide again, bringing up a 3D model of the firewall; Bricks of code shifting and moving in a single line, forming a new sequence. She pointed to one of the bricks, and when her finger brushed over the screen, the code of the brick rippled and morphed, parting to create an open pathway, "I think I understand how to break through, it's just a matter of isolating a string of the code long enough for me to decode it. Problem is, I.. don't know how to isolate code without a foundation key."

"And what is that, O'Goddess of Code?" Ursula piped up. Noticing the cigarette in Calypso's hand, she raised a brow, "Red Road, huh? I prefer Turbo. I like the mint." She held up one of her metal hands, and from the tip of her thumb, a small flame shoots out. Ursula offers it to her to help light her cigarette.

"Smoking kills, ya'know!" Jean frowned before continuing, "Think if it like.. a cage. It's a type of code that boxes in rouge malware long enough for you to kill it before it sheds its skin and changes. I've seen them before, but never worked with one. I have no idea how to even begin coding one myself, that's why we need to get one."

Reggie nodded and gestured to the group, "Luckily, I know just where we can get one."

Philip groaned, looking to Hadrian with a dejected expression, "Isaac."

"Don't tell me you're ashamed to face your fearless leader. I thought you were an honorary Molar Cap, remember?" Ursula quipped stoically.

"The guy's a self-righteous prick. There's no way he's just going to give us something that valuable."

"Which is why we're not going to ask," Reggie explained, taking a deep breath, "Isaac has a couple small businesses as fronts for smuggling rings here in the Cavity. One of them is bound to have a key. All we have to do is sneak in, grab one, and bounce."

"Once we get the key, I'll be able to find out what's in this file Miles Emperion is so paranoid about losing."

"But there's more," Reggie continued again, this time unable to contain the look of excitement on his face. He jumps to his feet and begins pacing the floor of the room in circles, his metal leg whirring and thumping about, "There's this.. archive at E-Corp, filled with files like this one. One-of-a-kind shit. If we can get in there without them noticing, do you you have any idea how much they'd be worth?"

"Um, there's just one problem.." Jean said quietly, "..The source code for the archive is stored at E-Corp's headquarters. I can write a script that can transfer all the files to a separate database remotely, but.. someone would have to get inside and install it there."

Reggie waved dismissively, "Yeah, yeah, one thing at a time. Think of the foundation key as like.. a wright of passage. If we can pull this off, you've earned a bed here.

"So, any questions?"
 
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Jax's lungs expanded deep within his chest as he inhaled the night air, though it was never as fresh as his body yearned for and that became even more true as he bumped along with the others into this makeshift house tucked away from the public eye. As each individual took their stance just past the house's threshold, Jax found himself shifting his weight against the neighboring wall, hands in his pockets, bitten tongue pressed to the inside of his right cheek so it popped out a little and left a shadowed indentation towards his jawline. Eyelids half lidded, his dull orbs drifted like ghostly from one stranger to the next, occasionally he tuned in and out of the chatter, picking up on things that benefited him like bunks for example. A place to actually sleep that wasn't him being propped up by garbage bags against the side of a dumpster shared with rats that had better hospitality than the human beings on the streets. He ran his hand along his heavily augmented neck, feeling the familiar bumps of coils as well as the torn stitches of the neck of his sweater bristle against the dry skin on his fingers. He wasn't particularly good with the banter and side jokes, he understood it, but it wasn't exactly oozing out of him -- he half expected everyone to forget he was here, but when Reggie, the apparent head of this accumulation of people, gave him the slightest passing gaze, he knew he had been acknowledged and therefore owed some kind of response.

Exhaling, Jax spoke up, his voice a bit lazier than the others, "I'm already fucked, and asphalt is a little hard on the back. I'm down," Considering the way his life was going, what was one more fuck up added to the list? "I'm not exactly a hacker, but... I can talk us out of some deep shit if needed.” Bullshitting might have honestly been his only skill, aside from digging his own grave at a remarkably fast pace and running even faster from everyone else. "Names Jax." He wasn't exactly the most personable, but this was indeed his first opportunity in such a long time, he didn't know if someone like him could have a clean slate but he'd try to start from scratch here if they gave him the chance. If only they would give him the chance.
 
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Like a tennis ball, Judith’s attention bounced between Reggie and Jean until it got slapped out of the court to Ursula. “Shit, you smoke those, too?” the spy noticed. “Mind hooking me up with one?” She hadn’t smoked in almost a week, and it was starting to weigh on her.

The job itself sounded easy enough. Before she became a spy, Judith defended cargo from criminals like the Molar Caps with a 96% success rate. She was confident enough to accept the mission with a nod. “You hired a capable hand. Hopefully the others can say the same about themselves.” The inflection in her voice indicated the remark wasn’t a jab, rather an expression of concern. These people were complete strangers, after all.

Hadrian’s jovial mood went down the tubes quickly, his face falling at the mention of Isaac. “That... might be dangerous,” he wheezed. “Ya know, when shit hits the Caps’ fan, it splatters on everyone. Let’s do our best, yeah? So we don’t have to talk our way outta some deep shit.” His comments were in reference to Jax’s skillset, which he was hoping would work as a last resort. He was brewing an idea regarding how he could hold up on his end of this deal, though the specifics were to be revealed.

norway norway mothspit mothspit
 
Jax's lungs expanded deep within his chest as he inhaled the night air, though it was never as fresh as his body yearned for and that became even more true as he bumped along with the others into this makeshift house tucked away from the public eye. As each individual took their stance just past the house's threshold, Jax found himself shifting his weight against the neighboring wall, hands in his pockets, bitten tongue pressed to the inside of his right cheek so it popped out a little and left a shadowed indentation towards his jawline. Eyelids half lidded, his dull orbs drifted like ghostly from one stranger to the next, occasionally he tuned in and out of the chatter, picking up on things that benefited him like bunks for example. A place to actually sleep that wasn't him being propped up by garbage bags against the side of a dumpster shared with rats that had better hospitality than the human beings on the streets. He ran his hand along his heavily augmented neck, feeling the familiar bumps of coils as well as the torn stitches of the neck of his sweater bristle against the dry skin on his fingers. He wasn't particularly good with the banter and side jokes, he understood it, but it wasn't exactly oozing out of him -- he half expected everyone to forget he was here, but when Reggie, the apparent head of this accumulation of people, gave him the slightest passing gaze, he knew he had been acknowledged and therefore owed some kind of response.

Exhaling, Jax spoke up, his voice a bit lazier than the others, "I'm already fucked, and asphalt is a little hard on the back. I'm down," Considering the way his life was going, what was one more fuck up added to the list? "I'm not exactly a hacker, but... I can talk us out of some deep shit if needed.” Bullshitting might have honestly been his only skill, aside from digging his own grave at a remarkably fast pace and running even faster from everyone else. "Names Jax." He wasn't exactly the most personable, but this was indeed his first opportunity in such a long time, he didn't know if someone like him could have a clean slate but he'd try to start from scratch here if they gave him the chance. If only they would give him the chance.

Both Reggie and Ursula turned to look at Jax when he finally spoke up. Curiously, Ursula couldn't help but examine the augments of his neck. The guy was pretty heavily modded-- Something she rarely saw even in the Cavity. Poor guy must have been through a lot. She wondered what he looked like underneath his clothes.. Not like, in a sexual way, just what his augments looked like. How they worked. Totally.

Reggie smiled, "Glad to hear it. In case things go haywire, you and my sister can talk to Isaac."

Ursula furrowed her brow, "Why do I have to talk to him?"

"Because Isaac likes you."

She groaned, rubbing her forehead with two metals fingers, "Don't remind me."

Like a tennis ball, Judith’s attention bounced between Reggie and Jean until it got slapped out of the court to Ursula. “Shit, you smoke those, too?” the spy noticed. “Mind hooking me up with one?” She hadn’t smoked in almost a week, and it was starting to weigh on her.

The job itself sounded easy enough. Before she became a spy, Judith defended cargo from criminals like the Molar Caps with a 96% success rate. She was confident enough to accept the mission with a nod. “You hired a capable hand. Hopefully the others can say the same about themselves.” The inflection in her voice indicated the remark wasn’t a jab, rather an expression of concern. These people were complete strangers, after all.

Hadrian’s jovial mood went down the tubes quickly, his face falling at the mention of Isaac. “That... might be dangerous,” he wheezed. “Ya know, when shit hits the Caps’ fan, it splatters on everyone. Let’s do our best, yeah? So we don’t have to talk our way outta some deep shit.” His comments were in reference to Jax’s skillset, which he was hoping would work as a last resort. He was brewing an idea regarding how he could hold up on his end of this deal, though the specifics were to be revealed.

norway norway mothspit mothspit
Ursula swiveled her head around to Judith, regarding her with a small nod. She reached into the pocket of her oversized jacket and pulled out the neon blue pack of cigarettes, flipping it open to reveal the colorful cancer-sticks inside. Again, Jean grumbled from one side of the room in protest.

"Yeah, well, we'll see, won't we?" Reggie responded, rubbing his face with his hands. He'd love to believe that things were going to go over smoothly-- Not just getting the foundation key, but busting into the (arguably) most secure fortress on the planet, stealing an entire archives worth of insurmountable wealth, and escape without so much as a scrape, but.. things were rarely that easy, especially considering the gravity of the situation. Hopefully the young man didn't just drag everyone in this room into something that would lead them all to prison.. or their graves.

Philip softly punched Hadrian in the arm, "Remember that time when Isaac lost a whole shipping containers worth of tech and made everyone scavenge for like.. a whole month to make up for it? Fuck that guy, dude."

"..Didn't he lose that container because you accidentally set it on fire?"

"Who said it was an accident?"

"If we could refrain from blowing shit up while we figure out how we're going to pull this off, that'd be awesome." Reggie interjected with a stern expression, looking to Hadrian as if to say 'good luck trying to keep him in line.'

"No promises."
 
Valentine rocked forward onto her knees, examining the schematics more intensely. She couldn't make out much--she didn't know anything about mechanics or coding. Breaking and entering, on the other hand... "Where's his businesses?" she asked. "I'm good at getting in places I shouldn't be. I can, uh--" She swept her bangs aside, so that her bionic eye could be seen more clearly. "I can see the cameras, 'cause they give off a different heat signature than the rest of the wall. People, too. So if I go in first, I can tell you guys where to stay away from."
 
Judith grabbed a lighter off a coffee table and lit the cigarette, deliberately staring at Jean as if to say ‘what are you gonna do about it’. “I like that. Camera placement makes everything complicated. You should come with me,” she advised Valentine. She then took a drag of the cig, blowing the billowing smoke out of her nose. “I’m great with stealth... and guns, in case we get ratted out.”

“Yeah, I remember that lame shit,” Hadrian recalled thoughtfully. Merely thinking about that month was unpleasant. “Got dragged away from the workshop to fulfill that month’s quota. Everyone’s equipment was fallin’ apart by the end of it. Oh well, he’s down a repair guy and an firestarter now.”

When Reggie issued the warning to not demolish anything, the brute couldn’t help wearing a sad excuse for an innocent smile. “We’ll be good boys, Papa Reggie,” he joked, almost doubling over laughing. “Seriously though, I won’t wreck anything, at least.” How reassuring...

Noam Noam mothspit mothspit
 
Valentine rocked forward onto her knees, examining the schematics more intensely. She couldn't make out much--she didn't know anything about mechanics or coding. Breaking and entering, on the other hand... "Where's his businesses?" she asked. "I'm good at getting in places I shouldn't be. I can, uh--" She swept her bangs aside, so that her bionic eye could be seen more clearly. "I can see the cameras, 'cause they give off a different heat signature than the rest of the wall. People, too. So if I go in first, I can tell you guys where to stay away from."

Reggie snapped his fingers approvingly, "Good thinking. There's a few, so we can choose from the bunch. Jean?"

Jean nodded and clicked her slideshow once again. It showed a small map of the surrounding area within a 30 mile radius. There were a few markers dotted about the map-- No more than than four-- for Isaac's various front businesses. One, an autobody garage, is the one Ursula points to.

"This is the one we should hit. Isaac only shows up there during the day, so we should be able to get in and out quietly."

"There's an air duct that leads to an alley behind the building," Jean interjected, "I can guide you through it."

"Woah hang on, we're not sending a kid alone in there, are we?" Philip frowned. He hated Isaac just as much as anyone, but if there was anything that didn't sound like a good idea, it was that..

"We're all kids," Ursula said with a roll of her eyes, "Besides, the air duct is probably the safest place for her to be."

Philip grumbled,
"Yeah, but like, she's more of a kid than me..

Judith grabbed a lighter off a coffee table and lit the cigarette, deliberately staring at Jean as if to say ‘what are you gonna do about it’. “I like that. Camera placement makes everything complicated. You should come with me,” she advised Valentine. She then took a drag of the cig, blowing the billowing smoke out of her nose. “I’m great with stealth... and guns, in case we get ratted out.”

“Yeah, I remember that lame shit,” Hadrian recalled thoughtfully. Merely thinking about that month was unpleasant. “Got dragged away from the workshop to fulfill that month’s quota. Everyone’s equipment was fallin’ apart by the end of it. Oh well, he’s down a repair guy and an firestarter now.”

When Reggie issued the warning to not demolish anything, the brute couldn’t help wearing a sad excuse for an innocent smile. “We’ll be good boys, Papa Reggie,” he joked, almost doubling over laughing. “Seriously though, I won’t wreck anything, at least.” How reassuring...

Noam Noam mothspit mothspit

Jean stuck out her tongue defiantly. It was bad enough the bombs and the rampant sickness they caused took out so many people, but to add insult to injury, E-Corp had wormed their way into every facet of life; Money, real estate, pharmaceuticals.. And everyday consumer goods like cigarettes. Ursula lit one up herself, the neon blue E-Corp logo shining in the low lighting of the room. When she exhaled, the smoke was a similar unnatural color, and left behind the faint scent of mint. Ursula offered a small, sheepish smile to Jean, as if to say 'one day I'll quit.'

"There, you see?" Reggie gestured to Philip, "Val will go with Judith."

"And the rest of us?"

"I suppose I'll go with Calypso," Ursula suggested, "She and I can look around for the foundation key."

When Hadrian so comically referred to him as 'papa', he groaned, and rolled his head to the side to put his face in his hands. For God's sake, it was like having a carbon-copy of Philip..

"..You two can stake the place out. Make sure we aren't interrupted."

"What if I want to go with Ursula? Someone's gotta protect her." Philip joked playfully, moving over to place both elbows behind her head on the backing of the couch. When he tried to play with a piece of her hair, she smacked his hand with a hard steel fist, and he recoiled in pain. "Ow!"

"Ease off, loverboy. I can protect myself."
 
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"And what is that, O'Goddess of Code?" Ursula piped up. Noticing the cigarette in Calypso's hand, she raised a brow, "Red Road, huh? I prefer Turbo. I like the mint." She held up one of her metal hands, and from the tip of her thumb, a small flame shoots out. Ursula offers it to her to help light her cigarette.

Calypso shrugged, even as she held her cigarette to Ursula's offered flame. "Turbo's all right. This is more woodsy." It also was not made by E-Corp... yet. Her gaze flickered between the younger girls and Judith, the other newcomer. Calypso held the smoke in her lungs for a long moment, then exhaled, sending it to the side, away from the kids.

The redhead listened quietly as the others discussed the plan. Basically, Reggie was a dreamer. Philip and Hadrian were ex-Caps. Jean was the brain of, well, everything, and Valentine was good at getting into places. Judith was... interesting.

So what was her part?

Calypso blew another round of smoke to the side. Ursula claimed her, and the redhead nodded.
 
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"I'm not a kid," Valentine objected, scowling up at Philip. Of course, that made her sound more like a kid, and she immediately regretted it. "I mean--you're like seventeen or whatever, don't act like you're grown. I've broken into scarier places than this."

That wasn't technically speaking true. Val had broken into other places, but they'd been pawn shops and bodegas, and a couple of low-rent body mod shops. This was a whole E-Corps operation, with real guns and real jail time if they got caught. But also real cash at the end of the road, and a real place to live, and you never got anywhere in life without a few risks, according to her dad.

Who admittedly was in jail, so maybe his advice wasn't the best.

Valentine tossed a glance over at Judith, who was blonde and smoking cigarettes like some kind of spy on the kind of crappy late-night television show that people only watched because they could show nudity. She was also pretty tall, with a lot of make-up and a gun, and just all around looked like she was spoiling for a fight, which made Valentine doubt the whole I'm great with stealth thing. "Are you actually great with stealth?" she asked dubiously. "Or do you just smash-and-grab and run too fast to get caught, 'cause those aren't actually the same thing."

mothspit mothspit
Goonfire Goonfire
 
Judith narrowed her eyes at Valentine, her gaze threatening to suck the soul from the young thief and spit it into the flames of hell. Her answer was blunt: “Get to know me, and you’ll see your little ‘A or B’ question needs a ‘C: Both of the above’.” Looking down at her own outfit, the spy remembered there was some legitimate reason to doubt her skills. “I hope you don’t think I’m going in this...” She had a different ensemble prepared for missions, entirely.
Noam Noam

Hadrian applauded at Reggie’s orders. “Not a problem... for me, at least,” he answered before cocking his head in Philip’s direction. “Hey man, you didn’t become a big softie, right?” Rhetorical question; Hadrian knew the firestarter wouldn’t lose his edge so easily. Hopefully, though, none of their old friends would need to get smacked up.
mothspit mothspit
 
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Calypso shrugged, even as she held her cigarette to Ursula's offered flame. "Turbo's all right. This is more woodsy." It also was not made by E-Corp... yet. Her gaze flickered between the younger girls and Judith, the other newcomer. Calypso held the smoke in her lungs for a long moment, then exhaled, sending it to the side, away from the kids.

The redhead listened quietly as the others discussed the plan. Basically, Reggie was a dreamer. Philip and Hadrian were ex-Caps. Jean was the brain of, well, everything, and Valentine was good at getting into places. Judith was... interesting, and Jax was the backup plan for when all hell broke loose.

So what was her part?

Calypso blew another round of smoke to the side. "Where do you need me?"
Ursula looked to her with a small half-smile, "The garage is pretty big, we can split up to look for the key."

There shouldn't be any baddies roaming around, none that they couldn't handle, but it was always better to play it safe than sorry. Like so many wealthy leaders in this town-- Illegal or otherwise-- They were all paranoid about their stock. It made sense, really. One wrong move, and they lost their entire fortune. But Isaac wasn't like Miles. He was.. sloppy. Only looking at what was in front of him, instead of in the future ahead. He and Ursula had crossed paths a few times in the past, namely went she went looking around for some upgrades for her hands. Reggie had crafted the first version of them back when they were kids, but wasn't skilled enough to keep up with the repairs over time. Every time she asked Isaac for help, it was another way for him to segway into asking for a date. Eugh.

"It should look like this,"
Jean pointed to the slab of glass plugged into her monitor, "Storage keys. You can find'em anywhere, they're pretty common."

"Easy peasy." Reggie smiled.

"I'm not a kid," Valentine objected, scowling up at Philip. Of course, that made her sound more like a kid, and she immediately regretted it. "I mean--you're like seventeen or whatever, don't act like you're grown. I've broken into scarier places than this."

That wasn't technically speaking true. Val had broken into other places, but they'd been pawn shops and bodegas, and a couple of low-rent body mod shops. This was a whole E-Corps operation, with real guns and real jail time if they got caught. But also real cash at the end of the road, and a real place to live, and you never got anywhere in life without a few risks, according to her dad.

Who admittedly was in jail, so maybe his advice wasn't the best.

Valentine tossed a glance over at Judith, who was blonde and smoking cigarettes like some kind of spy on the kind of crappy late-night television show that people only watched because they could show nudity. She was also pretty tall, with a lot of make-up and a gun, and just all around looked like she was spoiling for a fight, which made Valentine doubt the whole I'm great with stealth thing. "Are you actually great with stealth?" she asked dubiously. "Or do you just smash-and-grab and run too fast to get caught, 'cause those aren't actually the same thing."

mothspit mothspit
Goonfire Goonfire
"Nineteen," Philip corrected with a crooked grin, throwing up his hands in defense, "Chill out, only kidding."

"She's right, though," Ursula quipped, "You might be an adult as far as the law is concerned, but you're about as structurally sound as Reggie's leg."

"The bum leg or the good leg?"

"Can we not talk about my bum leg, please?" Reggie groaned. Maybe Hadrian was right. Maybe he was the dad here.. "For the record, my leg is very structurally sound."

"..What about the time you rolled over in bed and the friction caused a spark that fried the--"


"ANYWAY," Reggie cleared his throat loudly, diverting the attention back to the situation at hand. How any of them had managed to survive this long on their own was beyond him-- The average attention span of the room was a grand total of one minute. He was going to have an aneurysm by the end of this mission, he could feel it.. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, Val shot some accusing statements at Judith, to which she not-so-nicely replied..

Judith narrowed her eyes at Valentine, her gaze threatening to suck the soul from the young thief and spit it into the flames of hell. Her answer was blunt: “Get to know me, and you’ll see your little ‘A or B’ question needs a ‘C: Both of the above’.” Looking down at her own outfit, the spy remembered there was some legitimate reason to doubt her skills. “I hope you don’t think I’m going in this...” She had a different ensemble prepared for missions, entirely.
Noam Noam

Hadrian applauded at Reggie’s orders. “Not a problem... for me, at least,” he answered before cocking his head in Philip’s direction. “Hey man, you didn’t become a big softie, right?” Rhetorical question; Hadrian knew the firestarter wouldn’t lose his edge so easily. Hopefully, though, none of their old friends would need to get smacked up.
mothspit mothspit
"..We don't have spare clothes, if that's what you're asking." Ursula answered plainly. Truthfully, they used to collect old clothes they found while scavenging, just for any youth they came across looking for a place to stay. They stopped doing that a long time ago, though. For reasons. None Ursula felt like going into right now, and the stoic, statue-like expression on her face made it clear she didn't want to be asked.

Reggie nodded, "If you didn't bring anything, I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Knock out one of Isaac's men, take his clothes!" Jean said excitedly, shooting her hand in the air as if she were answering a question.

"Love the enthusiasm."

Philip scoffed at Hadrian's remark about going soft. Him? Soft? Granted, no major fires had popped up around town lately, but that didn't mean he wasn't down to cause a little havoc. There was still that insatiable burning itch deep inside him, and it was only held back at Reggie's request. Otherwise, this whole town would be up in smoke, and E-Corp with it.

"You're funny, bro. Piss me off, and you'll see just how 'soft' I am."
He joked with a smile, giving his old friend a firm, playful shove in the chest.

With everyone's positions sorted, Reggie clapped his hands together once,
"Alright, sounds like we got a plan. I'll stay here with Jean and make sure none of this leads back to us. We have a few hours to burn until daylight to get this done."

Referring back to the map Jean pulled up, he gestures to it with one hand, "It's not far from here, maybe a 5 minute drive at most."

"Some of us can take my bike," Ursula said, jerking her head toward one corner of the room. There, a thin, tattered sheet covered something vaguely motorcycle-shaped, with a helmet resting on top. It wasn't luxury, as even under the thin sheet it was clear the bike had seen several repairs, but could easily hold three people. "Me, Calypso, and--"

"Me."

"..Absolutely not. The last time you rode my bike you got ashes on the seats. I was thinking the kid-- I mean Valentine."

Jean got stood up and began passing small earpieces to everyone in the room, "This is how we'll stay in touch while you're out there. If something goes wrong, we all bail."

"Philip, Hadrian, and Judith will take the buggie." Reggie produced a set of keys from the pocket of his jeans. Just as he went to hand them off to Philip-- Probably the only one there besides his sister he trusted enough to drive-- He jerked them back with a scowl, "And please, don't drive like a goddamn maniac. It's fucked enough, and I still need to adjust the alignment from last time."

"Yeah, yeah," Philip agreed, snatching the keys from Reggie's hand.
 
“No, no. I have my own outfit,” Judith immediately clarified. She could tell the others were preparing to deploy, so she grabbed her luggage and ducked into the bathroom to change. The door and walls were fairly thin, allowing her to hear key bits of conversation—and plenty tomfoolery. A moment later, she emerged wearing a form-fitting dark gray stealth suit with light torso armor and a thigh holster for a handgun. A long, lightweight coat was also draped over her arm. When setting down her suitcase and purse, she retrieved a loaded 10mm pistol and a suppressor, which fit flush into the holster. “If you want a car to come back in one piece, you should give me the keys. Eight years driving, and only one accident on record,” she boasted.

Hadrian realized Judith didn’t take an earpiece and slipped one on her, provoking an offended glare. “People generally say ‘thank you’,” he whispered before continuing. “Heyyy, I get to play navigator again!” He folded his arms and leaned toward Reggie with a snarky grin. “I’ll steer him in the right direction. I can read a map, luckily for you, Judith, and especially Philip.”

mothspit mothspit
 
“No, no. I have my own outfit,” Judith immediately clarified. She could tell the others were preparing to deploy, so she grabbed her luggage and ducked into the bathroom to change. The door and walls were fairly thin, allowing her to hear key bits of conversation—and plenty tomfoolery. A moment later, she emerged wearing a form-fitting dark gray stealth suit with light torso armor and a thigh holster for a handgun. A long, lightweight coat was also draped over her arm. When setting down her suitcase and purse, she retrieved a loaded 10mm pistol and a suppressor, which fit flush into the holster. “If you want a car to come back in one piece, you should give me the keys. Eight years driving, and only one accident on record,” she boasted.

Hadrian realized Judith didn’t take an earpiece and slipped one on her, provoking an offended glare. “People generally say ‘thank you’,” he whispered before continuing. “Heyyy, I get to play navigator again!” He folded his arms and leaned toward Reggie with a snarky grin. “I’ll steer him in the right direction. I can read a map, luckily for you, Judith, and especially Philip.”

mothspit mothspit
"Oh, no way. Sorry lady, but I'm driving." Philip snickered, maniacally jingling the keys in the air.

The trip to the garage, at this hour, was thankfully uneventful. Walking along the jagged sidewalks, past dilapidated buildings roamed the occasional police android-- At one point, Ursula kicked up the speed, whizzing past Philip in the noticeably old, beat-up dune buggy with scavenged parts and flickering neon decals. They arrive to the location first; Ursula expertly parks in between a set of large dumpsters, and once everyone dismounts, she presses a small button on the dashboard. Instantly,the motorcycle cloaks itself, a thin mirage giving it the appearance of a silver trashcan. Neat. A few moments later, Philip drives into the same dank alleyway-- The one behind the garage. At it's front, a cracked sign blinks haphazardly 'Dusty's Last Ride - Autobody Care,' a tall metal sheet blocking off the main entrance inside, save for a small lock holding it all together. There were a few cars on the road, but only the occasional vehicle passing by every few minutes. For the most part, though, the streets were quiet at this hour.

With everyone in place, Jean sounds off in all of their ear pieces, "Okay team! Judith and Val, there should be an air duct a few feet above where you're standing. See it?"

Sure enough, there was an grate about ten feet in the air that led inside the building. Didn't look too difficult to tear off and crawl inside. "Get inside, and take two right turns. It should put you right above the backroom where storage is."

Similarly, Reggie chimed in, "Philip and Hadrian, hang around front. Let us know if anything goes sour."

Ursula gripped the lock of the metal sheet with one of her metal palms, and easily crushed it; Waiting a moment before heading inside. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this.." She muttered to herself, staring at the crushed lock on the ground. Even though Isaac wasn't around at this hour, she had the nagging feeling they were being watched. Or at the very least, something very bad was about to happen.. Nevertheless, she raised the metal sheet high enough to usher Calypso and herself inside. It opened to a small lobby area, and just at the back, an open space with tools, equipment, and half-finished projects strewn about the concrete floor. Ursula raised a finger to her lips, and gestured to the raised ceiling-- Luckily, there were no camera's in the lobby area, but that didn't mean other ones weren't hidden somewhere.

"Look around, but be quiet." She whispered, "Don't move into the workshop till Jean and Val give the all clear."

Outside, Philip stood with his back pressed against the metal sheet, absentmindedly lighting a zippo over and over, "Man, taking watch sucks." He grumbled. "I want to partake in the illegal shit, too.."

Zazz Zazz Noam Noam Goonfire Goonfire
 
Val climbed up on top of a nearby dumpster, moving mostly silently, and stood on her toes to peer at the grate. It was rusty, and the screws that held it into the wall already looked a little loose. She pulled her screwdriver out of her sock and set to work undoing them. Within a minute, the grate was free, and she was silently passing it down to Judith, then boosting herself up and into the air vent.

It was wide enough for a skinny person to fit in, but not all that tall. Val ducked her head and army-crawled forward until she was completely inside the air duct, with enough room for Judith to climb in after her. It was also pitch black--but then, that didn't matter much to Val.

Her bionic eye showed her two human-sized heat signatures below. One of them had arms that were colder than the rest of her--the faint yellow glow of machinery at work, rather than the fiery throb of a human body. Augments. That'd be Ursula then, and the one with cold legs would be Calypso.

Val crawled right at the first intersection, then the second, and she must have been above the workshop. It was a big place, judging by the spacing of the cameras. There were four of them, each about sixty feet apart from the other. Big square room, with four people moving around in it underneath.

"There's four cameras in the workshop," she whispered into her headset. "One in each corner, I think. And four people, can't tell if they're armed or not."
 
Hadrian stifled a breathy laugh. “You know our luck,” he reminded Philip with a wry smirk. “We’ll be neck deep in shit soon enough.” It was this neat thing the two had read about called ‘Murphy’s Law’, and while the hulking man didn’t mean to sound pessimistic, he was expecting complications. The Caps weren’t the easiest prey.

Judith stepped out of the buggy and looked up as directed. “Copy that, Jean. We’re on it,” she reported while taking the grate from Val. She placed it flat next to the dumpster; there was a risk of it falling over and making loads of noise if she simply leaned it against a wall. With that accomplished, she vaulted onto the dumpster and slid into the vent behind Val, gun in hand. The cartridges in the pistol had a faint glowing phrase etched in a circle around the primers; ‘10mm Auto - Mfg. by E-Corp’. The company’s monopoly was both a triumph and a curse; given their hands were in just about every market—from cigarettes to information systems technology—it would be difficult for anyone to trace these common bullets back to Judith without video evidence. That’s why Val was her partner in this mission; to ensure there was no video evidence.

Noam Noam mothspit mothspit
 

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