Futuristic {Open}աɛʟƈօʍɛ ȶօ ȶɦɛȶǟ քʀɨʍɛ (A Cyberpunk Adventure)

[shadowdude505]

"Meow," Cleo exclaimed. "Nice digs, tiger." She flashed the men a playful smirk.

“Cleo: Proud Mary retired and took all her stuff with her, but her bench is open and worked well for a second-story lady. If you want it, it’s yours."

"Sounds pur-fect," she replied.

“Meantime, if anyone’s hungry we’ve got a working kitchen in the next room. Maybe we should grab something and chat for a bit, you think?”

"I'll pass on a snack. I'm watching my figure," she joked. She had recently eaten and didn't feel like eating again.

Cleo sat down at the table, crossed her legs, interlocked her fingers, and rested her hands on her thigh. She listed as Apex explained her plight, giving the group an opportunity for a job.

"Sounds like an opportunity to turn some heads," she remarked.

She turned toward Bishop. "How does this work, tiger? Do we vote or do we follow your lead?"

 

[Gwalihir]

<< "See, problem is I was a smoothbrain 'n fraggin' got into a tiff with a biker group right before all this, and now they want my ass in a hole in the ground. If you don't think they'd use this race, which they've got their own guys enterin' too by the way, to turn me into a pile of charred meat and metal, then you might wanna check your brainfolds yourself.” >>

Bishop nodded. It was a common enough situation, at any time a loner could run afoul of a gang and there was always hell to pay.

<< ...if you three... four?" Apex looked to Bishop with a raised brow. "Is Weasley there actually a Runner too, or just some kinda Fence for you? >>

Weasel spoke up. “Naw, I’m just the little guy with connections. I’m a Fixer, not a fighter. Bishop is just generous enough to cut me in for half a share.”

<< "How does this work, tiger? Do we vote or do we follow your lead?" >>

Bishop had listened silently as Apex laid out the situation, but he acknowledged Cleo.

“The way me and my boys worked is, everybody is putting their ass on the line, everybody gets to ask questions and have a say. If there’s one holdout, the rest of the group takes the run without them. Two or more, the mission is a no go. But this is a new group. I suggest we vote as to whether everybody thinks that’s fair.

“Regardless of how we decide it, I have some questions for the lady. How do you see this panning out? We’ve got you as a Rigger, me as a sniper, Cleo and Catch, not sure yet what roles they can take: how do we stop the gang? I can’t patrol seventy miles of track for you; should I be riding in your car, or in another car instead of on the ground?

“Who is this gang that’s after you? Anyone we would know, or Weasel could find out about? What’s their usual MO? Their usual heavy hitters, and their preferences in toys?

“The track itself has obstacles. Can we do anything to neutralize those, or better yet, take advantage of them to neutralize the enemy?

“How long do we have until the race? Give us three days or more, and I’m gonna vote ‘yes’ on the job because I believe we can prep if we have that much time.”

 

[Pomtormo]

Catch decided to interject when her name was brought into the conversation. "I can keep my eyes on things and maybe-" The next statement she said with a large grin painted on her face. "Sabotage a few of our competitors vehicles. Not that I am doubting your skills Apex, just making the playing field even steven. As far as my vote-I'm in."

She glanced at Cleo wondering herself how the woman's abilities would translate. Before turning her attention back to Apex and Bishop, awaiting details.

 

[PixelSymphony]

"Yeah I figured you'd ask questions." Apex settled into her seat and began to rattle off things. "All right well first off, yeah we've got a bit of time; I wouldn't be trying to stick a cyclic compressor onto my main ignition stack if we didn't, 'less i felt like takin' a rocket ride through atmo when the whole thing slots up on me. Anyway, race is in about a week, and it looks like this." She pulled out her comm unit and flicked over to a map of the course and surrounding area, displaying it for the rest to see. "The track's actually being made out of an old canyon; I'm guessing Arcos thought the tight passageways made for a good basis for the course, and plus they can like bolt drek to the walls and avoid destroying the next grid over when someone frags off in a ball of flame. And before you ask, yes, that's when, not if: they're advertisin' this thing as a 'carnvival of carnage', so rest assured if someone hasn't blown up within the first fifteen minutes, someone WILL blow up within the next five."

The rigger shifted slightly in her seat as she continued to narrate. "Opposition's gonna be, well, literally everybody else who shows up for this thing, but the guys I'm worried about are the FlameOuts." At this Apex spat in a corner and scowled. "Bunch of the biggest drekheads I've ever crossed paths with; all they want to do is ride around and cause destruction for the hell of it." She sighed, grabbing a nearby bottle of liquor and taking a swig before facing the others. "Gueghh... leader's named Piston Burn, he's probably gonna be the one who's the biggest concern; he's a hell of a rider and exactly as ruthless as you'd think a ganger boss would be. If he sees a chance to take me out, he'll take it. As for his lackeys, eh, they're probably just gonna act as cover for anybody that tries to get close. Hardware's gonna be the usual ganger drek; smgs and machine pistols modified with stupid rates of fire and way too much muzzle climb." She glanced over to Bishop. "There's a reason I ain't been hit yet. Anyway, if yeh want I can give you where their turf is but I 'unno how much more skinny you'd get out of 'em."

"As fer a plan, here's what I'm thinkin; the canyon should provide ya somewhere to setup with a good view; don't bother tryin' to cover the whole track or nothing, but there's gotta be somewhere that gives you a clear line of sight. Could be handy when things get a bit mucky. Now, Catch-"

"I can keep my eyes on things and maybe-" The next statement Catch said with a large grin painted on her face. "Sabotage a few of our competitors vehicles. Not that I am doubting your skills Apex, just making the playing field even steven."

Apex snorted at the suggestion. "You kiddin' me? If I had my way I'd tell you to take a vibroshiv to every fuel line in the surroundin' 5 klicks; I ain't in this thing for 'fame and honor', I wanna get out and get paid, same as you bunch." She fell quiet for a moment, thinking for a bit as she looked between Bishop and Catch. "Hey wait a sec, 'tween you two, you just gave me a thought; you think you could hack into the mainframe controllin' all the hazards? If we could get those things to have a nasty habit of aimin' at the others... wouldn't be the worst thing..." Now lost in consideration, her gaze drifted upwards as she leaned back on two legs in her chair. "Buuuuuuut I bet they've airgapped the grid, nevermind jes' normal cybersecurity. And they're probably gonna be lookin' for any weird drek ahead a' time, sooo... might need some sorta remote access point day of the event. Hrm..."

At this, her eyes swung over to the remaining member of the field crew. "Hey kitty! Think you could sashy yer tail into the server room and plant us a wireless node while I'm busy trying not to get my ass shot off?"

 

[shadowdude505]

"I think that could be arranged," Cleo said in her silky voice. She rested her elbows on the table and put her fingers together; looking like a smooth criminal as she playfully smirked.

"Consider me your cat burglar, tiger," she said to Bishop. "If you have a job that needs a...delicate touch, I'm your girl."

She giggled flirtatiously for a moment as she glanced around the table. "Looks like we're taking the job."

PixelSymphony Gwalihir Pomtormo

 

[Gwalihir]

After raiding the kitchen, everyone had naturally gravitated to the rec room right next to it, where there were cushioned chairs, a sofa, a couple of recliners, a dining table and an entertainment center all scattered about. By the entertainment center one could find a series of “how to” vid chips by a rigger tagged as “Spiral Gyra,” gun use and maintenance vids by Pulvitzer Heavy, a series of entertainment vids and games from Arcos Entertainment and one vid hand marked “Kitty Cats Scratch Back.”

Bishop listened carefully to Apex’s replies to his questions:

<< "The track's actually being made out of an old canyon; I'm guessing Arcos thought the tight passageways made for a good basis for the course… >>

Bishop chuckled. “Or they’re fans of old movies. This one’s got ‘pod race’ written all over it.”

<< ...the guys I'm worried about are the FlameOuts." At this Apex spat in a corner and scowled. "Bunch of the biggest drekheads I've ever crossed paths with; all they want to do is ride around and cause destruction for the hell of it." >>

Bishop was still smiling. “Never did mind a job with a little ‘did society a favor’ flavor to it.”

<< ...smgs and machine pistols modified with stupid rates of fire and way too much muzzle climb." She glanced over to Bishop. "There's a reason I ain't been hit yet. >>

Bishop nodded. “Not a lot of boys with any real training join a wreck of a gang like that. Inexperienced bangers kill a lot more birds than enemies.”

<< ...the canyon should provide ya somewhere to setup with a good view; don't bother tryin' to cover the whole track or nothing, but there's gotta be somewhere that gives you a clear line of sight. >>

Bishop’s grin broadened. “Just call me one of the sandpeople.”

He drew the map over the table to look at it, then pointed out a “C” shaped curve in the route. “I get on the outside of that “C,” me and Midnight Blue can cover a hell of a lot of ground for you. I got special rounds to blow through engine blocks: should be able to pick off seven or eight guys comin’ at you while you’re in sight. Then I climb over the ridge to where the track doubles back, and pick off a few more.”

<< ...take a vibroshiv to every fuel line in the surroundin' 5 klicks; I ain't in this thing for 'fame and honor', I wanna get out and get paid, same as you bunch." >>

Bishop frowned. “Normally I’d say ‘save it for the bad guys,’ but I think we can all agree this thing’s gonna draw in a nasty crowd. Not gonna be a real innocent in the bunch.”

<< ...you think you could hack into the mainframe controllin' all the hazards? If we could get those things to have a nasty habit of aimin' at the others... wouldn't be the worst thing..." >>

“That was kinda my thought, too,” Bishop agreed: “but none of us are Deckers. That would be a job for a real circuit-head: we would need a pro…”

Weasel cleared his throat. “Uhm, if I happened to know of a guy like that and could bring him on board, we would be willing to split the share one more way, yes?”

<< "Hey kitty! Think you could sashy yer tail into the server room and plant us a wireless node while I'm busy trying not to get my ass shot off?"

"I think that could be arranged," Cleo said in her silky voice. >>

Weasel was getting excited. “Yes! That would be just what Network Nate would need to pull it off!”

Bishop nodded. “Sounds like the mission is a go. Good by me. At first I was thinkin’ we were probably looking at two cars, one the main racer, the other the protector, each with a driver and a tail gunner. But this plan plays to our strengths: I like it much better.

“Apex: one of Tinker’s favorite little toys will come in very handy for you. Looks like a “C” clamp with a propeller on the end. Hook it onto a grenade, pull the cord and the pin and toss it. Just a grenade you’re throwing about 30 to 40 feet and it hits the ground: with the propeller it goes 150 to 200 feet, and explodes in the air. Much more effective against automobiles and drivers.

“For this mission, Rule Number Four does not apply. If they’re in a car tryin’ to kill Apex, we smoke ‘em hard. No stun guns or other non-lethal measures: we want ‘em stopped for good.”

He stood and stretched. “Sounds like we’ve got all the answers we need. So, feel free to check out the rest of the Nest, see if you want to stay here, and make arrangements if you do. Let me know if you need anything.”

 

[Pomtormo]

It was a little later, the group had retired to The Nest's rec room. Catch went over to what caught her attention first, fingering though a shelf of videos. Pulling the cases out and studying the cover of any with names that piqued her interest. She chuckled at one title in particular "Kitty Cats Scratch Back...Weasel man is this yours?" The title was hand written, perhaps it was a personal film, she pondered.

Catch waved the video around in an attempt to antagonize the poor guy. "Or maybe it is the old man's?" She teased shifting her gaze to Bishop then to Cleo. "With a title like this it seems like a Cleo Chip...So come, one of you fess up. "

 

[shadowdude505]

A cheeky smile appeared on Cleo's face after Catch read the title of one of the videos.

"With a title like this it seems like a Cleo Chip...So come, one of you fess up. "

Cleo slinked up on Weasel from behind and draped her arms around his shoulders. "Did you film me at The Cat's Meow? I'm touched, tiger," she said, her pink lips beside one of his ears.

"Now I'm curious. Put it in the player, Catch." She eased back from Weasel and looked like a runway model as she walked toward a seat; she flashed Weasel a quick flirty look, hoping he'd spill the beans before the video started. With the title Kitty Cats Scratch Back, if it was a recording of her, it sounded like it could involve one of the fights she found herself in while trying to keep the creeps away.

PixelSymphony Gwalihir Pomtormo

 

[PixelSymphony]

"So we're all set 'en? Right, sounds like a run." As the others suddenly began to move about, Apex began to wonder what all the commotion was about. "Wait, 'Kitty Cats Scratch Back?'" The rigger shot a look at Weasel and snickered. "Ser'ously? Guess you fixer types really can find anythin', huh. Welp, it better be good; 'm gonna be judgin' my opinion of ya based off the quality of this thing." She kicked her legs back onto the center table, taking another pull of the bottle, and await what pray tell would come of this.

 

[Gwalihir]

Bishop had actually left the room a couple of minutes before Catch discovered the vid module. Weasel spread his hands in disclaimer. “I don’t usually come into this room. I got no stuff here. But what’s that title? Wasn’t that the name of some teener pop song from like six, seven years ago?”

<< Cleo slinked up on Weasel from behind and draped her arms around his shoulders. "Did you film me at The Cat's Meow? I'm touched, tiger," >>

Weasel laughed. “Me, in a club like that? They wouldn’t let me in in a million years. Not that I wouldn’t be tempted, you understand--”

<< "Now I'm curious. Put it in the player, Catch." >>

<< "Ser'ously? Guess you fixer types really can find anythin', huh. Welp, it better be good; 'm gonna be judgin' my opinion of ya based off the quality of this thing." >>

As the player whirred to life and the screen lit up, Weasel continued to disavow any knowledge of the module. The screen flashed credits for Arcos Entertainment, then a flashy opening for “Midnight Madness,” apparently a variety show for teens or tweeners, from what they saw. Then lights came up on a multi-level stage, and the announcer declared: “Ladies, and gentlemen, please welcome Angie Wescott!”

At that point a blonde teenager in a catgirl costume and a schoolgirl outfit hopped up from backstage and started dancing to a lively tune played by a band in the background. Soon she was joined by a line of back-up singers, all dancing and hopping about the stage wearing cat ears and behaving like cats. Then she started singing:

“There you go primping like you’re all that,
Thinkin’ you're the cat’s Meow
But this little kitty says you might be pretty
But you ain’t got a clue nohow…”

Weasel nodded. “Yes! That’s the song I remember! It was back about seven years ago!”

The singers broke into a chorus:

“I don’t need all your knick-nacks,
Sports cars on the racetracks,
Or fancy places we could stay:
Forget about your cat traps,
Cause kitty cats scratch back,
Better find somebody else to play…”

Suddenly Bishop was back in the room, with a ferocious look on his face. “What the hell is going on here? Turn that off!”

Weasel stammered a moment, then hit the pause button. “What’s the matter, Boss? It’s just a music vid…”

Bishop seemed to recover his composure, then sank into a chair. “No. No, it’s not just a music vid…” he held his head in his hand, and seemed at a loss for words...

 

[Pomtormo]

A pang a guilt reverberated through Catch. Any sense of playfulness faded when Bishop's composure crumpled before her and the rest of the group. Catch wasn't the type to reach out to comfort a stranger but she did scramble to flip the vid off. "Well it is not a cat fight...Sorry Bishop..." She offered up sheepisly.

Cybernetic eyes shifted between Cleo, Apex, and Weasel. Desperately searching for someone who would be willing to bail her out. Catch's wandering gaze settled on who she believe to be the smoothest talker of the bunch, Cleo. If there was anyone who could offer the man a little reassurance, it would be her.

 

[shadowdude505]

Cleo swayed in her seat as she enjoyed the music; her tail even swished happily. She hadn't expected a music video, but as a fellow cat girl, she found the video to be charming and cute.

"Huh?" she suddenly froze as Bishop suddenly became agitated. Her cat ears drooped back.

"Looks like we've stumbled on something personal...," she said as she looked at the other women.

She stood up and composed herself, before walking up to Bishop. She tenderly placed a hand on his shoulder. Her flirty posture was totally gone; at the moment, she looked more like a caring friend. "Sorry, we didn't know," she said apologetically. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but if you do, I'm a good listener."

 

[PixelSymphony]

The instant the video revealed itself as a song and dance number Apex pretty much lost all interest, returning to her bottle and starting to flip through her comm to try and look up instructions on how to get her most recent project addition to work. But as Bishop shouted and the TV rapidly powered down, she was left to glance between the other bewildered members of the room, watching Bishop rapidly deflate as she scrambled to figure out what to do. She was half tempted to just ask the question that was on everybody's mind, but even she could see that something wasn't right. "Guess it weren't quite what we were expecting," she muttered somewhat meaninglessly as she turned to Weasley, motioning him to come closer. "Hey... the hell's goin' on?" she whispered to the fixer, "You know Bishop right, what's got under his skin? Something about that girl? Who is she' an'way?"

...

Wait, "Personal"?

 

[Gwalihir]

<< "Well it is not a cat fight...Sorry Bishop..." She offered up sheepisly. >>

Bishop’s voice sounded hollow. “Cat fight? No. Not hardly. But I guess I can see where you lot got that idea…”


<< "Looks like we've stumbled on something personal...," >>

Bishop just sat, eyes closed, his hunched over posture mute evidence to what she was saying.

<< she turned to Weasley, motioning him to come closer. "Hey... the hell's goin' on?" she whispered to the fixer, "You know Bishop right, what's got under his skin? Something about that girl? Who is she' an'way?"

...

Wait, "Personal"? >>

Weasel waved his arms about in indication of total confusion. “Never saw him act this way. Always been the most balanced man I know…”

<< "Sorry, we didn't know," she said apologetically. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but if you do, I'm a good listener." >>

It took a minute, but he reached up and squeezed her hand on his shoulder.

“Of course. There was no way for you to know. But you all probably should, now.

“That vid is the last filmed evidence of the life of my daughter. It was filmed on the night she and my wife were murdered.”

He sighed, looking up at the figure on the screen with deep sorrow. “They were driving home from the filming when the car was T-boned by a truck owned by Arcos, the Montoya division. They were still inside when the car burst into flames.”

For a minute it looked like Bishop would lose it again. His grip on Cleo’s hand was firm, like a drowning man’s.

“I didn’t think anything of the truck being owned by Arcos until a friend gave me the copy of the taping, and told me he suspected foul play. Angela was running hot in the competition for Arcos’ new Entertainer of the Year, and when she died, that title went to a girl named Marina. The vid was redone with Marina singing the song, and published that way.

“Angela’s sales went through the roof after her death, but so did Marina’s. I discovered evidence that the driver was not drunk that night, and the truck’s brakes did not fail. A friend tracked his accounts and found a 5,000 credit issued to him two nights before, from an Arcos exec, Montoya division. I learned Montoya division was the one who made the determination of who would be Entertainer of the Year, and found other evidence implicating this suit and that suit, even down to Marina’s father.

“So, I did what any former-sniper-turned-family-man would do: I made me a rifle, and I killed them all. In the process I made some interesting friends and strange connections, wound up a few places I never expected to see, and learned a lot of things no one should have to learn. So, that’s my story: don’t think I left anything out…

“Oh, yeah. After I shot Marina’s father, I found out that she, at least, was totally innocent. She had no idea they were gonna pull this off. I found her, talked with her, explained what had happened. She was horrified, but at the same time devastated at losing her Dad. I promised her I’d never hurt her family again, and she made me a promise, too. Whenever she sings at a concert, she sings one of Angela’s songs, and gives her credit. Sort of a way of keeping Angela alive.”

“So: that’s it…”

 

[shadowdude505]

Cleo sighed. It wasn't the first sad story she had heard; in her line of work, she thought she had heard it all. She could empathize with being screwed over by a corporation, but her case wasn't as bad in comparison; she just lost a place of work, easily replaced, not a child.

Cleo placed her free hand on Bishops other shoulder and started to gently rub. There was a soft expression on her face and, for a moment, she looked like wife material instead of a flirty vamp. There wasn't much she could really say. When she was done with the massage, she lightly tapped his shoulder with her palm before bringing her hands to her side.

"Well...I think I'm going to call it a day; get things settled in my room. We can start preparing for the job tomorrow." She looked at the others, trying to gauge how they felt about the whole thing. Her eyes landed on Weasel and forced some of her playfulness to return. "Care to escort a lady to her room?"

Gwalihir PixelSymphony Pomtormo

 

[Gwalihir]

Morning sun was peeping through the windows as Weasel padded out from one of the rooms and to the kitchen, where he promptly started making coffee. He was whistling a cheery tune, obviously very happy.

Bishop approached silently from the hallway and rapped on the wood paneling to let Weasel know of his presence. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said.

Weasel laughed. “Is me being happy that obvious?”

Bishop nodded. “You look like the cat who ate the canary. But I’m bettin’ it’s more like the Weasel that ate the cat.”

Weasel chuckled. “I guess you could call it that. Last night was -- outa sight! I could never imagine--”

Bishop patted the younger man on the back. “No need for details, son. I’m glad you’re happy. If you want to keep things that way, I recommend flowers. Preferably roses, a dozen would be perfect, and delivered this morning.”

Weasel looked puzzled. “Flowers? For what?”

Bishop laughed. “For her, you chucklehead. To let her know you appreciate her. That’s the way we do things in the city.”

Weasel mused over the statement. “I guess it beats bringing home a freshly dead raccoon for dinner. Okay.”

(Tag any)

 

[PixelSymphony]

A groaning sound could be heard emanating from the doorway, and were anyone to look, they would see Apex leaning against the doorframe, one hand held against her head while the other held the bottle she'd been taking pulls from the night prior. She struggled to recover in the morning light. "Urgh... how are you bunch so fragging energetic this early in the mornin'?" Dragging herself through the room to land heavily into a chair at the dining table, her head quickly made its way flat atop it. "Bloody hell... fraggin' head feels like complete drek. What'n the hell was I even drinkin' last night anyway?" she rhetorically asked as she clunked the errant container atop the tabletop and then resumed her semi-comatose state.

A few seconds later, she forced herself to stand, still incoherently grumbling as she stumbled over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water and down it in a single hit. Setting the glass down with a bit more force than intended, she wiped her face with her sleeve, then gave a salty frown at witnessing Weasel's continuing glee. "The hell's got 'im 'n such a good mood?" she grunted out to Bishop.

 

[Pomtormo]

Like a baby bird Catch flew back to The Nest in the morning. She wasn't one for confined quarters and as they say, you can take the streetrat out of the streets, but you can't take the streets out of the rat. She'd spent her evening sprawled out on a fire escape basking under the moon's lunar rays. Saying prayers to a God that wasn't listening.

It was the promise of sustenance that really set off her homing beacon. To say Catch was a bit disappointed when she wasn't greeted by the scent of fresh cooking would be an understatement. It seemed she wasn't the only one disappointed as she heard Apex grumbling as she entered the dining room. Her eyes focused on the bottle "If you did not drink this Apex, you may feel better." She was being playful or atleast as playful as someone with her social ineptitude could manage. "I am starving. I will make us food- A little food in your belly you will feel good as new."

While Bishop went on to answer Apex's question Catch got to work in the kitchen. So was by no means a culinary master-but breakfast was easy. She toasted some bread, fried some eggs, and even cooked up some asparagus. Maybe not everyone's ideal breakfast choice but Catch made enough for the group anyway. She prepared two plates one for Apex, and one for herself and sat at the table.

Catch placed Apex's plate in front of her then sat and gorged herself a seat away. Between bites she managed to force out a statement. "If I know anything of men the little Weasel got laid. Isn't this right? So where is Miss Cleo this morning?"

 

[Gwalihir]

<< She struggled to recover in the morning light. "Urgh... how are you bunch so fragging energetic this early in the mornin'?" >>

Weasel grinned in sympathy. “Just had a great night, is all. Sorry it looks like yours sucked.”

<< "Bloody hell... fraggin' head feels like complete drek. What'n the hell was I even drinkin' last night anyway?" >>

Bishop walked over and set a trash can next to Apex’s chair. “In case that stomach does one too many flip-flops,” he said by way of explanation. Then he examined the bottle Apex was holding. “Hmmm. Looks like you went scavenging, found Scary’s not-so-magical moonshine. That’ll put hair on your eyeballs.”

<< "The hell's got 'im 'n such a good mood?" she grunted out to Bishop. >>

“Ooh, you know,” replied Bishop. “What else puts a twinkle in a young man’s eye and a spring in his step more than love, sweet love? A little communing with the birds and the bees, and voila’: you have a new man.”

Weasel blushed. “Aww, c’mon, Boss: not everyone needs to know the details…”

Bishop smiled back at him. “Forgive me: I shall say no more on the subject unless or until you bring it up.”

He turned back to Apex. “Can I get you something? Whip you up some scrambled eggs? Or do you prefer sunny side up, nice and runny?”

<< "If you did not drink this Apex, you may feel better." She was being playful or atleast as playful as someone with her social ineptitude could manage. "I am starving. I will make us food- A little food in your belly you will feel good as new." >>

Bishop nodded. “My thoughts exactly. If you feel the hankerin’ to do some cooking, by all means go for it. I do eggs, but not much else.”

Weasel smiled. “I might come back out for some in a bit. Just gonna take some coffee, be back shortly.” He headed back to Cleo’s room, whistling again.

<< "If I know anything of men the little Weasel got laid. Isn't this right? So where is Miss Cleo this morning?" >>

“Haven’t seen her yet,” replied Bishop. “Prolly that coffee Weasel is taking to her will turn the trick. And yes: you read him well.”

Weasel entered the room Cleo had selected, carrying two cups of coffee on a tray along with sugar and creamer. In the background he could hear the shower running, and he could see that Cleo was no longer in bed. So he sat on the bed and waited for her to come out. Soon he heard the water turn off: it would be a few more minutes, he knew, as he sipped on his coffee...

 

[shadowdude505]

Cleo walked barefoot into the bedroom, wearing a tank top and shorts; rubbing a towel around her hair. Her signature smirk appeared after spotting Weasel on the bed. She tossed the towel into the bathroom before walking up to him.

"Thanks, tiger," she cooed, taking her coffee. She mixed in some sugar and creamer before taking a sip. She smiled again at Weasel. Studying his posture, it seemed like a load had been lifted. Her posture was genuinely relaxed as well; it felt good fulfilling your purpose.

"Can't keep them waiting forever...," she said playfully. "You coming, tiger?"

Cleo walked out of her room and took a couple sips as she walked down the hall.

"Sorry I'm late. They say cleanliness is next to godliness," she let out a flirty chuckle. "Not that I'd know anything about that," she added, posing with the back of her free-hand against her chin.

She took a moment to sniff the kitchen air. "Something smells good," she stated, before making herself a plate.

She claimed an empty seat at the table. "Who do I thank?"

 

[Gwalihir]

Is this certain RP still Open?)

Yes, it is. If you post to the OOC chat linked at the top of the page, we will be happy to discuss strategy for bringing your character on board.

 

[PixelSymphony]

"Moonshine? Should've known," Apex grumbled as she accepted the plate placed in front of her, beginning to pick through it and bring portions of it to her face in zombie-like fashion. "Well, I dunno about 'good as new' but'll sure as drek feel better than right now." As she continued to work her way through her breakfast, Apex began to straighten up, and eventually nodded a bit in appreciation. "Hey, this ain't half bad; you work in a slop shop at some point, wildchild?" she addressed Catch with. "Can't say I'd ever thought've 'sparagus goin' with yer usual birdguts on a shingle, but hell, it's good enough I think my hangover's startin' to go away." She took a bit of the omnipresent coffee and drank it black, the bitterness doing a good job of fully waking her up. "Well drek, guys, if this run goes south, maybe we can jes' open a diner."

Her eyes swiveled up at Catch and Bishop's remarks about Weasel's nighttime activities, but she said nothing, simply watching Weasel head out with two cups of coffee. "Sheesh, teammates for one day and they're already doin' the horizontal tango. Fixer's really CAN get anything, huh." She took a final large bit of her meal and washed it down with the rest of the coffee before taking her plate and dumping it in the sink. "Hm. 'llright, guess I'll wait to see what we're doin' fer today before I dive back inta trying to get my damn booster to fit. Migh' need yer help actually, Catch. If you can turn a bunch of scrap into a plasma torch, I take it you can make me an adapter for two different gauge pipes, right?"

As Cleo walked in, Apex scoffed and crossed her arms behind her head. "Well if it ain' the cat who got the cream." She tilted her head towards Catch. "The salvager made breakfast; it's pretty fraggin' good, honestly, less yer still in the mood fer breakfast sausage," she said with a hooked brow.

 

[Pomtormo]

Catch shrank into her seat, it had been awhile since she'd had this much attention sent her direction. It was definitely a change in pace. "I only cook to eat. No slop-shop for me. My mentor taught me, He taught me everything I know...Gave me my first eye. Thank him Miss Cleo, not me."

She kissed her fingers and pointed them toward the sky. A silent salute to the fallen. The moment of tenderness ended when Apex went on to ask her to build another plasma torch. This was normal in a place like Circuit City. There is no time for tragedy, you just have to keep moving.

The scrapper mulled over the proposition. "An adapter for gauge pipes?" Catch scratched idly at her jaw line as she thought. "Yeah I can do this. What do you need it for?"

 

[Gwalihir]

<< Cleo walked barefoot into the bedroom, wearing a tank top and shorts; rubbing a towel around her hair. >>

Weasel couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Damn! You look amazing even when you’re not really trying. How’d I get so lucky?”

<< "Thanks, tiger," she cooed, taking her coffee. She mixed in some sugar and creamer before taking a sip. She smiled again at Weasel. >>

“Figured I didn’t know which way you’d want it. That’s why I just brought it all in.” He felt like he was babbling, but he couldn’t shut up. He hadn’t felt this good in ages: maybe forever.

<< "Can't keep them waiting forever...," she said playfully. "You coming, tiger?" >>

“Well, if we got to, we got to. But if I had my druthers, I’d rather stay here all day with you.” Weasel followed her back out to the kitchen.

<< "The salvager made breakfast; it's pretty fraggin' good, honestly, less yer still in the mood fer breakfast sausage," she said with a hooked brow. >>

The reference went completely over Weasel’s head. “No sausage? Big deal. You run the streets, any day you get hot food on a plate is practically a holiday!”

“Well, well,” Bishop interjected, “Now that we’re all here and reasonably lucid, I’m thinkin’ we need to be planning our moves getting ready for the big day. We’ve got over a week, but not two. Weasel? You mentioned a decker who could help us out: ‘Network Nate?’ How about you go find him and bring him in. Me: I’ll be loading me some ammo for engine blocks, and maybe taking a few potshots on the range. Given your positions we decided on last night, what’s everybody else got planned?”

 

[shadowdude505]

Cleo flashed her smirk at Apex and chuckled. She really wanted to make a remark, but Bishop started talking business before she could. She ate some of her food as she listened.

"I could hit the range, warm up with my SMG," she replied, the wheels turning in her head. "But as far as the mission in concerned, if I'm sneaking into the server room, it would be helpful to find out the layout and come up with an infiltration plan. Am I trying not to be seen at all, or am I going in through the front with my charm and forged documents? I'm sure those tech guys get lonely sometimes."