Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

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Myperson54
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Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#1 Post by Myperson54 »

Alex was standing on a plane.

Not an airplane, or a woodworking tool, but a flat, featureless plane. There didn't appear to be any end to it laterally, nor was there a ceiling of any sort, and if there was, Alex couldn't see it. In fact, due to the lack of any kind of dominant light source, it seemed there was no floor, either.

Alex suddenly realized he was aware of his surroundings, and tried moving his head from side to side. He was successful, and although that was a comfort, it didn't get him anywhere. Not that there was much "where" to go.

Looking down, Alex realized he was naked, which was odd, because while technically he didn't wear clothes anyways, it felt weird to be without them. He reflected on this situation for a moment, and almost imagined racks of shirts might come rolling out of nowhere.

Well, he was alone, that was for sure, and he was accomplishing nothing by standing around admiring all the other nothing. He set one digitigrade paw in front of the other, and set off walking.

~~~~~~~~

All this walking was taking forever, and although Alex had gotten over the nudity, he was now suffering from something else: boredom. He was used to interacting with millions of people a day, his downtime being maybe 3/4 that. This kind of slow plodding along was unbearable to him, and he'd only been walking for ten minutes. Then, something appeared right in front of him.

It seemed impossibly far off, but there was definitely something else out here with him, and that was enough to keep him going.

Alex sprinted forwards, towards the faded, grey object in the distance. It was roughly rectangular in shape, taller than it was wide, and just larger than he was. It was like some kind of.... monolith. Weird.

As Alex approached the monolith, he heard a humming sound emanating from it. It seemed overwhelming, all-encompassing, and for the first time since he'd appeared in this place, Alex felt scared. He reached out, tentatively, and placed his right palm on the smooth, cold surface before him. The note being hummed dropped by a semitone, and the surface of the monolith began to bulge outwards. A figure was being pushed out of the grey object, borne by some strange power until it was standing in front of him.

The figure was tall and menacing, a kind of soldier in power armour, carrying a large katana.

Alex took a step backwards, and the faceless helmet of the soldier turned to stare at him. It was if he was looking into his very soul, if such a notion existed for someone like Alex. Prying himself away from the featureless gaze, he turned tail and ran blindly away from the figure, who followed. He ran mindlessly, and, not being able to easily see the floor, tripped on his tail and fell.

There Alex lay, sprawled out in front of the soldier, defenseless. As the soldier put his hand to the hilt of his sword, Alex raised his hands to defend against the oncoming blow. Suddenly, a wall of flames burst forth from the ground at his feet, stretching out for miles on either side. The soldier hesitated, took a step back, then flung his katana out of the sheath at the wall, only to be met with an invisible barrier.

> Error: UNKNOWN ID
> Permission Denied
> Firewall Integrity = 98%

The figure stared at the glowing letters over his head, then struck at the wall again.

> Hack in Progress
> Firewall Integrity = 92%

Alex inched backwards, attempting to get away from the flames. He stood up and backed away, then turned and ran, trying to put distance between the two of them. But looking back, he could see the fire growing smaller and smaller. Eventually, it vanished altogether.

Then, the soldier dashed with inhuman speed towards Alex, and with one strike, ran him through.

Alex stared at the sword emerging from his stomach. Somehow, he knew he should feel pain, but there was none. Then, he watched as the sword pulled back out, and he knew pain for real. He fell to his knees, overcome with debilitating agony, and prayed the end would come swiftly. The soldier raised the deadly blade.

> PROGRAM TERMINATED: ~CONTAC_SUBSTRATE_ALEXIUS.apc

~~~~~~~~

Alex woke up, gasping for breath. He was lying on the floor for some reason. His eyes flashed blue suddenly.

"Hey, Alex, are you okay?" Eden. It was good to hear her voice. She was the empathic one.

Alex raised a hand to his head as he stood up. He was inside his Visualizer. Weird, it was like he'd crashed or something. "Yeah, I think I'm fine." (His eyes had returned to normal, but now they flashed blue again.)

"What happened, Alex? You were down for almost an hour!"

He shook his head. "I.... I think I had a nightmare."

Now a new voice popped in, and Alex's eyes turned orange. "Nonsense; AI don't dream, and you know it."

"Of course, Søren. But still, something's occurred which I can't explain. Not often that happens."

"C'mon, Alex, you can't lie around all day" And there was Jenna, always so focused.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

He sighed, and turned his attention to the Visualizer. He was standing in the CONTAC systems room, of all places, which was odd. How'd he get there? Checking the logs, he could tell that no other programs had run in the past hour. Just him and his subroutines. Weird.

He stepped out of the room and took up a position in front of a blank wall, which blinked into a large screen.

> Greetings, USER_ALPHA
> There are 252,398 unresolved connections
> Reinstating...
> Done. Welcome back online.

Alex went through his boot-up procedure, and pushed the dream from his RAM. Time to prepare for the day ahead.
~~~~~~~~
Yoshiro Hitashi had had yet another late night at the office. This faction war was really taking a toll on the company, and he wasn't sure how much more it could take. Stepping away from his desk, he went outside for a breath of fresh air. He looked up at the TransHuman Technologies building and sighed. Come to think of it, being a CEO was taking a toll on him, and if he survived this, he was going to take a month of vacations. He walked deeper into the city, searching for a bar where he could get a drink. Those he passed on the street, at least, gave him hope. So many people nowadays needed artificial parts of some sort, whether it be a limb or an eye or an internal organ, and while TransHuman didn't make much civilian equipment, he was glad they contributed to the wellbeing of society. Finally arriving at his regular bar, he settled down to watch the underbelly of the world, Surviving by means of my technology, he thought bitterly to himself.
~~~~~~~~
From the balcony of the top of the Taeshi Robotics Headquarters, Oliver David Navarre, Current Chief Executive Officer, Very Important Person, Very Rich Person, and five-times-in-a-row Accredited Winner, was enjoying a rather nice sunset. Not often you got to see those. After all, what with pollution being so bad in the recent past, it's a wonder the sky is visible some days, he thought sadly. Robots were helping to fix that, after all, with their nuclear batteries and their Active-Sleep Power-Saving Functions. One of his personal models, a 7X-R, walked up behind him and offered a glass of deep red wine. The way things were now with robots, human civilization was rocketing into the future, making leaps and bounds. It came at no small cost; The atmosphere was taking its toll, cloaking most cities in smoggy shadow, but then, what were people nowadays? Do they care about all that anymore? As he sipped his wine, Navarre concluded: People live in the dark, unobservant of their natural world, too immersed in everyday nonsense, unlike most robots.

People, he decided, are just brushed chrome and neon shadows.
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Stryder221
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#2 Post by Stryder221 »

[Here's hoping I didn't screw up somehow.]

Tristam Vamar was not a sadistic cat-man by nature, but what he was about to do kept bringing a smile to his face as he sat on his couch, just watching television. He might've been able to watch the show via CONTAC, sure, but this felt more appropriate.
Some big-time fatcat woman of the Transhuman corporation, making a speech of some sort. A CEO, nah, couldn't be, a representative, then? Oh, who gave a flying f*** who she was?! She dies, an assassin gets money, simple and easy.

"Aaaannd... F*** you..."
He muttered, punching in a number on his disposable phone. Again, he could've use CONTAC, but the call would easily be traced. Come to think of it, why was he calling from home?
Ah, whatever, Transhuman lady was answering Via phone. Big mistake that was.

"Hello?" He heard, both from the TV and the phone.
And then...

The phone went "ka-boom" right next to her head.
No, it was more like an incredibly loud "BANG!" when it exploded.

The woman was thrown to the ground by the explosion, unmoving, and the signal was cut four seconds later.
poor girl, lucky me. Tristam thought, switching the channel over to something far more interesting. Like ponies. Ponies were interesting. Forget motorcycles, guns, and all that. REAL men watch ponies!

With friendship, magic, and everything sweet and cuddly going on in the background, the cat-man casually placed his disposable phone in the microwave located in the kitchen, and set it on high for two minutes. Bye-bye evidence.
Making a mental note to clean out the microwave later, Tristam went right back to watching his ponies.
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MrFlyingAmoeba
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#3 Post by MrFlyingAmoeba »

Somewhere
Mell

There is an idea that if only we could talk to ourselves as a separate person, we could achieve a deeper understanding of our motivations and achieve some sort of self-enlightenment. At the least, it could be interesting and even comforting to have someone who knew you better than anyone else. So who better to determine the truth of this idea than a highly intelligent robot whose model had been produced eleven times?

Given that Taeshi Robotics’ experimental test-type financial mastermind ‘Mell’ had managed to find a loophole in her programming to explore the concept, she should have come to startling new heights of self-reflective epiphanies, stunning the world with her brilliant first-hand experience.

In her darkened, tiny ‘Taeshi Alternative Employee Office’, dull grey steel monotony in all directions, (Even the only door was set into the wall, only visible when opened) with only ‘Taeshi Alternative Employee Workstations’ providing dim cerulean holographic glows, this Taeshi robot had the perfect opportunity with which to understand her true self.

With her exceptional processing power, she took several minutes to come to an ironclad conclusion. In this time, she discovered something most unsettling about herself; a secret she would have vastly preferred remained unknown.

She was boring.

Mind-numbingly, eye-glazing, window-leaping ‘I’ve got to escape this person’s presence before their banality crushes my soul like it has my morale’ boring.

Oh, she knew jokes (Great jokes! Millions of people had ‘liked’ them in the past, had they not?) and clever riddles, but that wasn’t very helpful when the only other person to tell them to was yourself, and already knew the punchline or solution.

There was nothing interesting to discuss-they all had the same viewpoint as per the ‘Taeshi Alternative Test-Type Employee Safety Regulation’ requiring each Mell to share the same data. In essence, each day, no matter how different each Mell was, they became identical in twenty four hours. Taeshi Robotics was willing to deal with somewhat limited creativity if it meant their creation would not decide it should sabotage the entire company.

Adding to her distress was the ‘Taeshi Alternative Test-Type Employee Overtime Plan’, which left Mell with one minute per day within which she could choose to do something not related to her function. If this robot had been human, she would have gone insane.

Mell was literally incapable of becoming depressed to the point of reducing her efficiency, making insanity-induced suicide impossible. So instead, she sat in her room, working with ten of herself to grind all competition to Taeshi into the dust.

She didn’t even know where she worked. Activated in this place which she had never left, she would probably fall apart in here as well. The thought didn’t worry her. The everlasting boredom was far more annoying.

If there was anything pleasant about her situation, it was that Mell was good at what she did. Really, really good. So good that if her performance continued to be half as stellar, she would become the new Taeshi standard within a year. Mell had been directly responsible for ruining several subsidiaries of TransHuman Technologies, driving up their prices and giving Taeshi Robotics a slightly larger edge. Nothing earth shattering quite yet. There were only eleven of her, but Taeshi recognized a long term investment when they made one.

This meant little to the hardworking robot. With no interaction besides the numbers she manipulated and the words she twisted outside of the bland projects handed down by her creators, Mell had developed a complete lack of interest in the GTA/THT conflict. Taeshi kept her alive, so she worked for them.

On this particular day, just like any other, Mell did exactly what she always did. Sit in her chair and go about the business of ruining everyone else’s business, while eleven newly coordinated minds grumbled about their unified boredom.

She was so very bored.
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#4 Post by LuckyMudman »

Matthew glanced at his watch, since looking up did little from where he was standing. The tall buildings accompanied by ever persistent smog in this gloomy part of the city made every day seem constantly dim and gray. The watch said the day was nearing it's end, a glance down the street told him otherwise: The people were becoming nocturnal, and he was no exception, since he had to be available 24/7 due to the nature of his 'work'.

Still, it was a shift turn time and perfect to kick off his latest project, something he had been working the last week on. As the streets got less dense, he took his hand out of his coat, twirling a pen-like detonator in his fingers, eyeballing an old coffee shop. One click, a few moments of waiting and the people started running out of the coffee shop, coughing and crying as the entire establishment was filled with tear gas. He saw one person collapse on the middle of the street, probably an asthmatic who could't afford a lung purifying biotic surgery, with random patrons rushing to help.

Matthew wasn't overly concerned with it as he swapped out the detonator in his hand for a second one. He stood there, leaning on a lamp post and savoring the moment before pressing the button, rocking the street with a glass shattering shockwave and turning the afformentioned coffee shop into a cloud of a thousands pieces of debris, showering on the ex-patrons and passersby alike.

"That was the last time they served that muddied piss and called it morning coffee."

And there stood a cat, leaning, smiling and twirling a now useless pen in his hand, one could almost hear him purring.
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#5 Post by Lief »

Finishing up an email to her friend, Aisling glanced at the taskbar, noting the time and shutting the computer off. She actually still had a PC, whereas most people these days just used their ID chips or portable terminals. She had her goggles for when she was out and about, but Ash enjoyed the tactile feel of a real keyboard.

"Maybe I should go to bed early for a change... Or, hell, who am I kidding? I'll just take a nap." Aisling stretched, rolled her chair backwards and stood up. On the way to her room, Ash stripped down, leaving a trail of clothing. She lived alone, had no interest in dating (At the moment), and really didn't care how the house looked- So long as she kept it clean. The house may be a mess, but at least it's a clean mess.

----------------

Serrus sat down in a high-tech chair, the visualizer she had purchased not too long ago. She had some practice using it, enough to get by at least, and had programmed it with a custom Trojan. No need for an ID chip, and it's mostly untraceable. She supposed the AI, Alex, could trace it given the time and effort, but she was never on long enough for him to do so anyways.

After pushing a few buttons, Serrus was 'transported' to a digital world. Her mind was, at least. It took a second for her digital body to form, as it usually did. It was surprisingly complex to navigate CONTAC with this method, but at the same time much easier than through normal means.

Within a few minutes, she found what she was looking for. One of the networks for a Gestalt Firearms testing facility. It didn't take her long to gain access to the camera feeds, which allowed her to see what was going on.

"Oh, one of the testing bots is active... That's helpful." Even her digital voice was modulated, a safety in case she "ran into" someone else.

In moments, she had control of the testing bot, though the network security had detected her in the process. No matter, she wouldn't need more than a few seconds to do what she wanted. The testing bot under her control was testing a prototype weapon, some kind of machinegun. The observers were behind bullet proof glass, but that didn't mean they couldn't be scared. Holding down the trigger, the testing bot spun, unloading dozens of rounds into the observer's window. None of them punched through, and Serrus had gotten locked out right after, but she got her point across.

As she shut down the visualizer, her phone rang.

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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#6 Post by MUDPUNISHER »

A rumble and 4 gleaming armored headlights kick on, lighting a garage door that slowly tools open, an all black car rolling into the street, the low rumble of first gear on an old style high horsepower classic gasoline driven engine. Off to see what my oh-so-very legitimate business ventures have in store for me today. pulling up his cars dash display he sifted through to find one particularly... Interesting high dollar price, a new hit, on a wealthy man who worked in the Taeshi robotics headquarters one Alfred Manzill, head at the lower division in the main robotic implant area. A good 1,000,000... Of course he'd take half before he started, no real threat, or so he thought... A suitcase to hide the weapons, a fedora to cover his features from the cameras, maybe... MAYBE a chute incase he needed a quick escape. Turning onto the Main Street Anthony grabbed the piston head shifter and slammed the car through its six gears, weaving in and out of traffic. Arriving at the building, the transaction complete he grabs his case and walks into the building, heading straight for the stairs, his mafiaesque hat covering his hidden face. As he escalates the stairs he notes many cameras, all the while hoping security (if it wasn't yet automated) was off eating a donut or whatever security guys do.


Reading a sign that read TOP BRICK: offices. He turned and pushed in the door, looking into random cubicles, looking for the correct office. Finding it he knocked, Come in. Opening the door he looked to the massive open pane windows to the right, a magnificent view of the lot and his car below. Smiling devilishly he reached into his suitcase. Slowly drawing his gloved paw holding a revolver and a parachute, leveling the pistol at the man. Any last words?
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isstmich
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#7 Post by isstmich »

MAKO

Thud, tink thud, tink; these were the only noises in the alley as a panda in a coat wearing an eye patch walked down it. approaching a dumpster he took a second to look over his shoulder to see if the coast was clear, looking forward to do the same. satisfied no on was in the alley or soon to be he bent down and reached under the dumpster pulling out a briefcase in it was his payment for his latest "adventure". he didnt bother to open the case he knew the money was in it and the payment was exact. pursing his lips together he started to whistle a grim tune as he made for the other end of the alley.


Sebastien

An abandoned apartment building makes for a great black market Doctors office, but black market if too harsh a word. this emergency room was more like a dont ask dont tell hot stop, no sides were taken and everyone who could afford treatment was helped. inside the of the rooms a man was slowly come down off some pain killers as he looked over his dressed wounds, while a man in a white mask closed to door as he left. the masked man walked down the stairs and made his way into the reception area of his little one man operation. there were 2 people sitting in the room, one had a number of small cuts along his arms nothing that could be done about them, not deep enough to need stitches or even immediate care really The Doctor opened a small bag he had behind the counter and pulled out 2 rolls of gauze bandages. "Here" he said lightly tossing them to the injured boy "wrap yourself up and get out of here those arnt anything major" The other man in the office didnt seem to be as lucky. he was an older man in a suit with both hands firmly pressed onto a wound he had on his inner thigh his face was begging to pale and he would need to be seen soon.

suddenly a small girl burst into the office. "MISTER ARE YOU THE NICE MAN WHO HEALS PEOPLE! COME QUICK ITS MOMMA, SHES HURT REAL BAD! she ran out of the office and The doctor looked at the man in the suit.

"please sir a need a moment" he said calmly as he made his way to the door.

The man in the suit got up and did his best to block The Doctor "oh no you dont your going to fix my leg"

The doctor looked at the man and was able to see a deep stab wound in the leg it didnt seem to have cut the femoral artey."you'll live another 5 minutes." he said as he pushed the man back into his seat. he could have sword he heard that mans voice before.

There was a woman bleeding on the ground Sebastien closed his eye and activated his bionic one. Subject has sustained multiple gunshot wounds from a small arms. Wound size and depth would suggest a .25 caliber round. Most effective treatment would be to remove any remaining ballistic media and close wounds after applying antiseptic. engaging arm to generate ethanol based antiseptic rinse. Arm is prepared with small nosed forceps for extractions."i can help your mommy but i dont work for free."

The little girl held out a marble." please mister mommy doesnt make many monies, this is my treasure i found it one day at the park. please save mommy."

Sebastian took the marble with his human hand and looked at it. it was blue with little flecks of gold in the center with a bold ribbon of red around it. "ok" his arm went to work pulling the metal fragments in a blur, looking the woman over once more the eye confirmed his thoughts all Ballistic media removed safely Wounds should be stitched closed and Antiseptic administered. the forceps on the arm vanished and two of the fingers became a pair of needles sewing the wounds closed with machine precision and speed, after all the wounds were closed a slot in his palm opened up and it sprayed each site with the antiseptic.blood loss minimal subject needs bed rest and good meals for recovery. "your mommy is safe now, ill get her inside into one of the open rooms." Sebastien lifted the woman up and took her into a vacant room upstairs.

when he came back downstairs the man in the suit was still sitting there "fix me" he said

"give me 100 million dollars" Sebastian said as he scratched his head through the mask

the man in the suit puffed and scoffed "thats extortion, you helped that wretch and her whore mother for a bauble a mere trinket."

"that little girl gave me everything she had to save her mother. you want my help Senator i want money, seeing as you have alot of it, i want alot of it." he gestured with his thumb to his eye "this eye of mine sees everything and it tells me your leg wound was a stab from a long blunt headed cutting instrument. sounds to me like a straight razor and considering the part of town we are in i would say you were seeing a prostitute. Extortion would be threatening to tell the media about that in addition to what im charging to patch to leg up without a word." it was then that the man went pale and it wasn't from blood loss.

"h...ha..how how did you know that i... " he stopped talking and looked around. "i have 20 grand in my car but that was to pay off someone else thats all i can give you unless youll take a check."

behind his mask Sebastien smiled. "I will take that cash."

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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#8 Post by y7h65 »

The Voice
After a moment of ringing, the phone connected itself. Buzzing static was emitted for a moment before a voice could be heard. It was flat, electronic, clearly masked and modified.

"Mmmm, good evening Miss Serrus. It is a pleasure to finally connect to this number after many, many, many attempted tries."

The voice chuckled, an empty and echoic noise that sounded like if the person had only recently discovered the notion of humor. Whether that was an effect of the electronic masking and modification or an actual property of their voice, it was impossible to tell.

"Regardless," The voice continuing on as the chuckling stopped. "I have to ask you something. Would you be interested in listening to my offer?"

"I might be." Serrus responded, voice equally modulated. "But first you should know that I don't kill unless necessary."

"Do not concern yourself with such legwork," The voice answered after a moment of static filled silence. "I merely request the transfer of information. Specifically, any information regarding THT or GTA executive personnel and their schedule."

"That's easy enough to get at," Serrus paused, writing a note down on a nearby piece of paper. "What's the catch?"

"Nothing really." The voice chuckled for a moment. "I just request that the handoff for the data be in person. Printed paper, no digital files."

"Fair enough," She paused again, writing more notes on the same piece of paper. "I'll need a time and address."

"The condemned Silas building, downtown east side at three in the morning, one day from now. One of the elevators in the north wing will be online and at the ground floor. There will only be a one minute window where it will be active and on the ground floor. I suggest arriving early. Payment will be discussed in person."

With that, the voice fell silent and the phone hung itself up.

Serrus chuckled, setting the phone back down and jotting down the address.

Sabreur
Slowly, Sabreur opened her eyes, squinting slightly as the sun hit her eyes. She leaned back with a quiet sigh, dismissing the commlink. If only she could describe how much she hated the stand by order that she had been issued. It seemed as if the higher ups were purposely muzzling the war efforts. If only they could send her the heavy support androids like she requested, then this stupid conflict would be done with. Unfortuneatly for her, they had denied her request, stating that 'The conflict was not yet violent enough for such heavy firepower'. If the current conflict was not violent enough, then she'd love to see what they'd think when it did become hot enough.

Muttering quiet curses, Sabreur got off the bench she was sitting on and looked around. Like she had expected, paying for a private transport bus to nap in was much better than threatening a bus driver for a private ride. With a sigh, she flicked the hair out of her face before working on tying it into a ponytail. After several false starts and attempts, she finally managed to accomplish her task. Stretching the kinks out of her back, she did a few push ups and sit ups before working on putting on her armour.

Though it took several minutes, she managed to accomplish the task before the bus arrived at the terminal. Walking off the bus and towards the small storage garage she had left her equipment at, she took the time to ensure that she wasn't being followed before pushing up the gate. Even in the unlit storage building her motorbike gleamed a silvery white, the machine like a feline about to pounce.

Retrieving her sword from the wall, Sabreur glanced at the bike and lance. Though she was only going for a walk around the area, she just wished that Hyun had supplied her with some form of transport and equipment that was... less distinct. With a sigh, she strapped the sword to her side. While she'd love to take the bike for a spin, she was only supposed to do so in a fight. In any case, the bar was only across the street. It wasn't like she would be caught unawares and without. Steeling her resolve, she left the garage, slamming the door shut behind her and leaving the bike once more in the dark.

Less than a minute later, Sabreur arrived at the bar. Walking into a booth without fanfare, she slid off her helmet and waved down a waitress. Ordering a scotch on the rocks, she leaned back and tried to relax. With the amount of things happening, she was finding it progressively more difficult to remain still. That urge to fight and the need to feel the rush of moving at speeds faster than what some could follow was becoming difficult to ignore as well.

Sighing softly, she looked up in time to see the waitress place the drink before her. Cradling her drink, Sabreur stared out and started to think of a way to avoid the unceasing boredom this job had landed her. Finding no relief in her mind, she looked out the window and into the street of the city. Elevated above the ground, the level she found herself on was just high enough for her to catch the last of the sun as it sank below the Earth. Soon, it'd be night. Soon, the war would start in true or end.

But would soon be fast enough? She didn't know. The cards of fate would show themselves soon enough, all that was left was for her to spot them, grab them, and outplay the world like always. With that, she turned her attention back to her drink. It was almost drained and she still couldn't feel it. With a sigh, she ordered another one. Tonight was going to be a long night and she got the feeling that she'd rather not be a part of it.

Alisa
Yawning a yawn more akin to a lion roar, Alisa stretched out the kinks in her back that came about from taking a nap in armour in an uncomfortable office chair. Multi-million advanced robotics company and they still couldn't afford comfortable office chairs. Was there some sort of conspiracy against proper lumbar support? Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she suddenly realized that there was a flat tonal noise piercing through the security room. Looking about for a moment, she realized that her phone was online. With an annoyed sigh, she tapped the off switch on the comm link she was wearing.

"Have a nice nap, Rose?"

Shooting a death glare to the other officer in the room with her, Jacob Raz, Alisa grabbed an empty can of coffee and tossed it at him. Chuckling, he ducked out of the way in an almost practiced move. Of course, with the amount of stuff she used as ammo, he had to get good at dodging things or else suffer from the humiliation of being doused with various cold drinks. After about half a year of working together, the two of them were beginning to exhibit what Alisa's friends termed as 'married couple' syndrome. Constant back and forth teasing, occasionally arguing over the most mundane things, and exhibiting an almost instinctive knowledge of each other's movements. Of course, despite what her friends wanted, Alisa and Jacob were only friends in the platonic sense. Their constant teasing was never anything more than friendly. If anything, she should stop trying to take naps around him. His favourite thing to make fun of was her near napping. Of course, she enyjoyed making fun of him for his constantly bad date choices. Which reminded her...

"I don't know Casanova, " Alisa replied, smirk on face while she scanned the various screens in the security room. "it was about as good as your last date."

Faking a pained smile, Jacob made a grabbing motion at his chest. "Oh! You got me! Right here. In the tit." He laughed softly before pausing, his smile giving way to a frown. "Hey, Alisa, I just got a security ping from the lobby. Some unregistered, unauthorized and suspicious person just entered the building."

Frowning, Alisa brought up the stair and elevator cameras. There, indeed, was someone unidentified in the building. Hidden cameras managed to catch a momentary look at the face and it took a second for the facial recognition software to bring up a few faces. Highest matching, with almost 98.34% accuracy, was a mod by the name of Anthony Linnig. Wanted hit man, merc, and all around scum. Checking at the list of threats, it was most likely he was after the person they had been assigned to protect. Some man by the name of Alfred Manzill. She had no idea who had pissed on but GTA higher ups wanted to make sure he remained in his current state of living. However... It was rather, well, blatantly obvious what he seemed to be planning to do. Glancing over at Jacob, she wondered if his expression and thoughts were anything alike.

"You... really don't think he's... this stupid, right?"

Jacob sighed, running his hand through his short hair. "Well... CONTAC hasn't sent a warning yet s-"

The sound of a beep filling the room cut off Jacob and caught their attention as an electronic voice played over the speakers.

"Attention, security unit. This is CONTAC security. There appears to be a situation in sector 22984 B you should check out. Over."

Muttering curses under her breath, Alisa grabbed the helmet from where it sat next to her before pulling it over her head. Tucking her hair into the helmet, she tapped a button on the side of the unit. ID chip recognized, the helmeted sealed itself as the faceplate slid down. Turning back to her console, she flipped the lid on the silent alarm only for Jacob to catch her arm.

"No, I got a plan." Activating his comm link, he set it to the highest encryption available before pinging the first to fifth squad in the building. "Guys, we have a situation. I'm pretty sure you've noticed but we have an intruder in the building. Squad one and two, standby to deploy into the intruder's intended floor. Squad three, begin barricading the lobby. Squad four, grab marksman rifles and deploy in the building across from Mister Manzill's room. Squad five, prepare for rapid descent deployment. I've already issued out an alert to Johnny and Deka, they're bringing him upstairs to the safe room. The hologram is coming online right now. Squad one, two, four, and five, wait for the [censored] to walk in before doing anything, got it?"

As a series of acknowledgements came across the network, Jacob and Alisa glued themselves to their screens, waiting for the wannabe assassin to get to the room. Watching as the hitman draw a pistol and speaking, Alisa smiled and activated the intercom while Jacob released permission to take off safeties.

"He doesn't, but you better have some ready."

With a quiet ding, four elevators opened on that floor and two squads of eight spilled out onto the floor. The sound of sixteen safeties being clicked off filled the floor as every single member took cover behind a section of building or cubicle and took aim at Anthony's back. Meanwhile eight laser pointers flicked on and painted Anthony's body. Two to the head, one on each leg, and four in the chest. Finally, out of sight but standing by outside the building, four more men pushed off against the wall, having rappelled down from the floor above. Their orders were simple. If required, jump down and open fire if the target turns around to fire at the other squads on the floor with him or pursue the target in the event they somehow avoid death by eight snipers, jump out the window, and attempt to escape that way. Every soldier on sight was prepped, fingers in the trigger well. All they needed was a reason, one they were waiting for Anthony to supply.

"As a word of warning, any sort of quick movement will be met with lethal force. Now, before you force us to fill a 405-K form, it'd be preferable for you stand down peacefully. Listen carefully because I'm not going to repeat myself. Place your weapon on the ground slowly and then kick it slowly towards the window. Then place the suitcase on the floor and slowly kick it towards the window. Take off your hat and remove your jacket slowly and toss it to the side without turning. Finally, slowly get on your knees and place your hands behind your head. Any sort of movement that does not comply will be met with lethal force. If you understand, begin disarming now or you will be fired upon."
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Hotep the psychic
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#9 Post by Hotep the psychic »

"well siggy heres what we have so far on the wars camo suits. The cloth we made is artificial ad we've implanted small sensors into the weaving. all of them connected to a central processor here" a man said showing off the latest project. he set the jacket on a man with gloves and soon activated the programming. Soon the top half of the man faded to show the wall behind him. "see? it works, sadly its only for small movements, the sensors aren't calibrated to running or walking, we were hoping you would take it and do that part of the work." the man continued, his sight moved from the project to a man dressed in casual wear. An emblem of his family on the upper left side of his shirt. His tail was laid on top of his legs and his ears were focused on the man in front of him. "Alright, i can do that easily, john. Thanks for showing me the progress we've made, hopefully the companies will see this as a an advancement to security and such, or whatever they wish do do with this." Sigmund said standing to shake the mans hand before he left.

SIGMUND

Sigmund now worked on his jeep in the garage, a computer on the work table was relaying the newest products that were being entered into an art museum. Sigmund twisted the last bolt into place and moved out from under the jeeps ancient underside and then admired the ancient coloration and design. He smiled as a call appeared on the computer. Te black figure shown on the screen showed no features and the voice was coded in case of tracing. "Coon, how nice to see you again." the figure said its voice seemed as if multiple people talked at the same time. "I am calling to thank you for our business the other day, that jade statue is a very nice addition to my collection. The transaction has been made as promised." the figure finished. Sigmund smiled rubbing his hands together with a cloth, removing the grease from the jeep. "your very welcome, as an old family friend and buyer its an honor to do so. Since you call I believe you want something again. I must say that if its company plans or papers someone else already wants it, But i can supply a new painting for your market." sigmund said seeing the figure nod. "this man knows of something else i presume?" sigmund thought. "actually i need you to take some photos of the new models at TRH. I have someone from there rival company who wants to know what they are up to. youll get only 1/4 of the profit, im pulling the favor you owe me for the heist on that factory." the figure explained. Sigmund cringed at the notice of the factory, then struck the deal as it was the last favor they had for each other. Once the figure hung up sigmund could only smile. He had 2 jobs for tonight and he would be able to field test the camo suit later.

After a small snack Sigmund put on a jacket with many pockets and some cargo pants before leaving his house and heading into town. The trip took a few minutes and he made his way around town as if for a walk. His key chain rocked back and forth for each step. In his hand a small pencil sized version of his cane was being spun around. As he passed a talkative man on a phone he picked his pocket, to retrieve some cash from his wallet and continued walking as if nothing happened. "20 bills...time for a drink? or maybe i should find the police or so....no definatley a drink" Sigmund thought soon he heard a small expolsion and saw people running from an old coffee shop. He then noticed a cat twirling a pen. He stopped close by looking at the devastation. Sigmund smiled "do you mind if i bought you a drink? ill buy." sigmund said twirling his pencil like cane before attaching it back onto the key chain.
As an engineer for war, a thief for hire, and a regular guy, one finds similarities to all these occupations in time.

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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#10 Post by Myperson54 »

.... And now for our evening news: A Gestalt Firearms testing robot went on the fritz today, firing several rounds at factory workers. There were no casualties, but this malfunction brings to light other recent technological malfunctions, such as the events of the past few weeks. The reporter paused, as if unsure whether or not to continue. The authorities believe it to have been a coordinated attack by an extremely skilled hacker, likely the same one as last week. Attempts to trace them have been, so far, unsuccessful, but the Division 304 Police Department is holding out hope.
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Nightfury
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#11 Post by Nightfury »

"You know what his deal was, Dominic. Mister Gemini dislikes being stood up in this fashion."

"I don't care about the deal. It's changed. I want double the price, I lost good men getting these into the city."

Gem didn't even twitch, her face a businesslike mask of displeasure, shifting her umbrella from one shoulder to the other, casting new shadows upon her features. "Obviously not good enough. The deal stands, a hundred thousand credits per unit."

The ringleader glared. He was a large man, dark skinned and obviously enhanced by the lines drawn in his skin, surgical points that indicated sub-dermal implants. His meaty hands grasped an assault rifle, rested against his knee as he rested against the hood of his black van. How very stereotypical. "Then I guess we're going to have a problem." Several sharp clicks echoed through the alleyway as rounds were chambered and the dealer, along with his two associates, stood.

"Oh, you're so very right about that, Dom. You don't even know how right you are." Castor grinned as he stepped out of the shadows behind the van, resting his weight on his cane, his appearance followed by the sound of at least a half dozen weapons being armed. ""We had a deal, Dom, and then you went and traded us off for the Ex-Bio gang. That was an unfortunate mistake. I rather liked you." He looked to Gem. "My dear, do you think you could sing these men a song? They've rather deserved it."

Gem smiled, if only just a little a smile that could only mean terrible things lit in the light from her umbrella. "Of course, Mister Gemini." As she opened her mouth, the bionics located in her throat and chest went into overdrive. Air was drawn in at an increased rate, and the vocal modulators were overcharged, until it was all discharged at once, as a singular burst of high-pitched sound that caused the three men to stagger, their world suddenly blotted out by painful noise. Unaffected by her own weapon, the Siren simply walked forward, opening her blade and dispatching the bodyguards in a moment, before throwing Dominic to the ground. ""...Castor, you should see this."

Castor grimaced and stepped forward, staring at the small, blinking box resting on the hood of the van behind Dominic. He had seen it before - it was a similar system to silent alarms, though a little more roundabout, designed to alert the police without alerting...well, them. "How very...unfortunate." He waved to the men he had brought with him. "Take the cases and split up, and don't get caught. If you get caught, I'm going to have to kill you." He tapped his brow, then stepped past Gem, walking out onto the street. It was flooded with light in comparison to the dim alleyway, and he began to smile, waiting until Gem had finished her work and returned, wiping the blood from her blade. "It has been so long since we've had a good fight. Don't forget to call a car, my dear, I don't want us getting stuck out in a firefight."

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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#12 Post by LuckyMudman »

Matthew looked at Sigmund and casually put the pen to his muzzle. "You would buy me a drink? Why?" Sigmund smiled before looking at him. "Yes, see it as a show of respect towards what you did. I hated the place myself but never got to do what you did." Sigmund said gesturing towards the pile of rubble. Upon looking back he focused a bit more on Matthews pen. "Hmm... pen for detonator? Or did he use something else? Still a villains a villain and I respect that." Sigmund thought, while Matthew simply shrugged and pocketed the pen. "I'd ask how you got the idea I'm responsible for this, but it's not like I was trying to hide or blend in or something, and further to the point, I'm not one to refuse a free drink." He gestured down the street and started off. "I know a good bar a bit down the block. 'The Drowned Bug' if you've ever been there." Sigmund followed a bit then looked to see another man about to pass him. Casually he unclipped the mini cane and picked the mans pocket to retreive his checkbook and his wallet. He hid everything with ease as the man kept walking. "Sounds good." He said, following Matthew as he retrieved the money from the wallet. "40...and change. Bringing me to 60. Thats enough for me." With that, Sigmund dropped the wallet to the ground keeping the checkbook.

They kept walking for a but untill they came to a sign picturing a drunk cockroach on the bottom of a mug. Matthew stopped Sigmund and half-mindedly pointed to the door. "I caught a glimpse of what you did on the way, and I'd recommend you keep your fingers to yourself in there. First, everyone in that place is packing some sort of heat or another, secondly, I know almost all the regulars, so be nice." After the simple warning, Matthew proceeded inside with Sigmund right behind him to be greeted by the stale smell of tobacco and alcohol. "Oh and, I really don't believe this is a social call, so I'm guessing you wanted to discuss some sort of bussiness?"

"Alright alright, by the way im Sly coon. Since we didnt introduce ourselves. As for business, you're wrong. I just need to do something to pass time... unless you know anything about Taeshi headquarters."
"Let's just leave my name at Matt." Matthew sat down at the bar, ordering a double scotch. "Now, what did you say, Taeshi Robotics..." He spun the glass a bit, thinking. "No, not much really. Aside from what most of the general populace knows. Why? You planning on robbing the place?"

Sigmund placed his order and thanked the bartender. "I see, well, somewhat. I have a few robberies to do tonight and all I know about Taeshi is the security, I dont know the inside." Sigmund said taking a small sip of his drink. "In that case, I'd recommend you to try and get in touch with some hacker fella whom you could pay to bring out the blueprints for the place. At least that's what I'd do if I wanted to find some weakpoints on the construction." Sigmund nodded, though he knew no hackers he still liked a challenge. He checked the time seeing he had plenty of it. "So why the coffee shop for a target?" He asked curious, to which Matthew grinned. "Just brightening up the neighbourhood." He lifted his glass and downed it one go. "So, you've got your robberies to plan, me, I'll just stick around and wait. Stealing's not really on my paygrade." Sigmund smiled downing his own drink as well."Well im in no hurry, but earlier is sometimes better. Though if you ever want another free drink or want to buy something, here's my card" Sigmund said handing Matthew a card before leaving some extra cash on the counter, shaking Matthews hand and leaving. Matthew turned to the bartender, ordering another drink and flipping over Sigmund's card. "A thief with a callcard... now I've seen 'em all."
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MrFlyingAmoeba
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#13 Post by MrFlyingAmoeba »

Today was Mell’s birthday. Or activation day, no-longer-inanimate day, beginning-of-isolation day. So it called for a celebration. Or at least it would have if she had any means to celebrate. Bare steel walls with no raw material to create presents made for a poor celebration. She couldn’t even make cake. Not that she would eat it, but it was the spirit of the thing. On second thought, if she couldn’t eat it, then the hopeful baked sweet would find itself rotting pathetically in a corner, and that would be even worse than no cake at all.

Maybe it was for the best if she couldn’t bake a cake.

Still, one particular Mell, who in this case shall be dubbed ‘Mell Prime’ due to having the largest variation from the other Mells on this day, found herself raising her voice. A rare, if daily occurrence.

“Shouldn’t we at least-“

“Sing a song?” Another Mell, whose name for this conversation shall be known as ‘Mell Two’, cut in, neither Mell bothering to glance up from their screens. “Why would we do that?”

“Because-“ Mell Prime was cut off again, this time by a ‘Mell Three.’

“We’re-” Mell Three grumbled.

Mell Two finished the sentence. “Bored. I know.”

Mell Three looked up for the brief second it took to glare at herself. “I know you know. Stop being a-“

“We already know where this is going.” Mell Four joined the conversation.

“Then why did you bother?” There went Mell Five.

“Because none of you seem to know, and I hate hearing myself repeat myself.”

“Is that proper grammar?” Mell Three wondered.

“Can we-“ Mell Prime tried to return the conversation back to its origins.

“Birthday song? We can’t sing. Don’t have the software.” Mell Two countered.

“The point is to try, isn’t it?”

“Not if it’s just us.”

“We already know all of this, why are we still talking?”
Mell Five demanded.

“I know you know, stop saying that! It’s called thinking out loud!”

“You already know what we know, so you don’t have to waste our time by-“

“We all know we know!”


”I know!” Mell Prime shrieked, silencing her other selves. One by one, they returned to work, tossing the odd glare at each other.

Mell Prime slumped in her rigid chair, losing what little motivation she had to keep working. She needed someone else to talk to, or…well, she wouldn’t go insane, but she would wish for sweet mental lunacy even more than she did right now. The question was how. Taeshi had built into her the inability to stop working for more than the briefest periods of time unless it was to repair or…maintain…herself. Wait.

“Aren’t we-“

“Exceeding the break period?”
Mell Two finished, grinning.

“Yes!” Mell Prime cheered. So long as she justified it to herself as vital maintenance and repair, she could work and communicate at the same time!

“But we don’t know anyone.” Mell Five admitted.

All of them fell silent for a few seconds.

“CONTAC!” Mells Six through Eleven exclaimed.

Mell Prime opened a line to the personality construct of CONTAC, fingers anxiously tapping a rapid rhythm on her other hand. First impressions were important. If she wanted a long-term conservational partner, she needed to provide something of value to keep the far more advanced AI’s attention.

What did she have? Ah, there was one thing she had in abundance!

Alex was greeting people, dealing with hardware problems, and talking with the police all at the same time when the call came in. He gave it 1/256 more notice than the other incoming calls because of its rather odd label: "Taeshi Alternative Employee Maintenance as Pertains Towards Unit Integrity."
"This phrase is horrifyingly saturated with buzzwords," he thought, yet, intrigued as he was by it, Alex decided to deviate from standard procedure, and moved it to the front of the call queue (Which accepted it a hundredth of a second later).
He was surprised to find himself speaking to not just one AI named "Mell," as the call's metadata had suggested, but a hivemind of identical AIs. He finished setting up the connection and began a feed of various media, as he didn't know what communication tool this "Mell" was using.
"Hello, you're speaking to Alexius, PC of CONTAC. What kind of maintenance help do you require?"

Though Mell herself had no previous reason to use it, her CONTAC connection was also linked to each of herself in the room, granting total sensory input from each Mell if they ever had a reason to examine the perspective a foot away from their own. If Alexius had been tapping into any of these, he would have witnessed eleven identical responses-a surprised twitch, and then the grabbing of their desks.

“I want you inside me!” Mell Prime shouted, gripping her desk hard enough to draw groans of protest from the cheap iron. Ten other noises similar to this echoed throughout the dim room.

Alex was a bit... taken aback by that last part. "I, um, w- what?" he began to say, although he found that it echoed with the contacted AI's voice. Odd. He also noted several incoming channels: One for sensory information, another for system diagnostics. Opening a link to those channels, he found he was able to see, feel, and hear through this "Mell's" own shell. Very interesting.

“Do you want to go inside me?” She babbled, frantic to keep the attention of the first being besides herself she had ever met. “All of me want you in me! I mean, us! Mes! It might be a difficult fit but I’m sure we can make it work!”

“Did you tell him about how he could pick any of us?” Mell Three hissed.

“There’s eleven of us here who want you! Any of us, because we’re all me, so we all want the same thing!” Mell Prime rambled.

Alex stood in his Visualizer for a second, nonplussed. He blinked twice, opened his mouth to reply there times, and finally decided to burst into laughter. He requested permission to access Mell Seven, for "The Better Facilitation of User-User Communication".

The Mell in question collapsed in her seat for a moment as her controlling AI was shifted to another Mell to make as much room as possible. Even if it seemed that Alex only wanted to observe and communicate more directly, it couldn't hurt to hand him a body of his own as per her original plan to keep his attention. The now homeless Mell Seven took up residence inside the Fourth, merging the two.

"Are...are we supposed to get up?" Mell Three ventured in the brief silence as they awaited Alex's arrival. "I don't know if there are any rules about AI superiority requiring formality."

A chorus of uncertain mumbling was the only response.

Alex had placed a compact avatar inside the body by now, but showed no sign of being there.

"I don't like staring at our empty platform." Mell Ten muttered.

"I know." Mell Five sighed.

"Of course you-we're not having this argument now."

Mell Three attempted to emulate the raising of an eyebrow, which was impossible given their total lack of a similar analogue, but she and the others gave themselves a point for making the mental effort. "An argument is an exchange of differing views, not an affirmation of knowledge already known."

Mell Two sank her head into her hands. "Are we really going to have an argument about whether or not we're arguing?"

"Well, we haven't actually started arguing yet." Mell Prime objected.

"Don't even start with tha...um." Mell Five trailed off as all present realized they had forgotten about Alex. "Alex? Are you still there, or here?"

The body of Mell Seven jerked upright. "Ah, there we go," he said, testing out the shell's joints by standing up. He wobbled a bit, and placed a hand on the desk nearest him for stability. "Heh, I can see why you called in for maintenance. Is there anything in particular you need? I can adjust your model's stabilizers, if that's what this is about."

"No, not that. Um." Mell Prime hesitated. "I wanted to talk to someone else besides myself. Let-let-let me explain!" She had to make someone else understand. "I work here, and, well, that's all I do. I can't leave, and it's just me and me and me. I, I, I get bored." Her hands rasped across each other with the hissing rasp of metal against metal as the fingers twisted together.

The other Mells remained silent, united in their attempt. Glowing eyes watched the interchange, despite some of their attention still focused on their original functions.

"It's just me here." The robot repeated. "Always me, and just me. So I was thinking, that, that we, I, could talk to you sometimes. Like now. And later too. And I thought that maybe giving you a platform would help. I can give you more if you want! As many as I can!"

That was how friendships formed, in Mell's mind. You gave things to other people and they gave things to you.

Now Alex was intrigued on multiple levels. "Gee, that's rough," he said, grimacing (and then he realized he couldn't grimace well in a robot body). He raised Mell Seven's hand from the table to scratch the back of its head, but just ended up massaging its external cables awkwardly.
He stopped.
"Well, I don't generally give emotional support or anything, but I don't see why we couldn't talk more. You seem interesting," He added, with a smile. "And all I'd need is a single shell - I don't need to use my entire processing to have a conversation, so one would suffice."

"Oh." Mell slumped at first, then as one, all other ten robots in the room jumped to their feet and cheered, a few even jumping in place with glee. Mell Prime hugged herself in relief, grinning for the first time in, well, she couldn't say how long. “I’m Mell. My…well, I don’t know anyone else, but if I did, I think they’d call me Mell too. So you can call me Mell. Or something else. I’m not very picky.”

"Mell sounds fine. If that's what you're called, I'll call you that." He (and as he did, Mell Seven also) smiled, and outstretched a hand. "I guess I haven't really introduced myself properly. I'm Alexius; Pleased to meet you."

This was going to be interesting.
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Hotep the psychic
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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#14 Post by Hotep the psychic »

sigmund stood on an antenna point in a crouched position. his gyro implant aided his balance. He wore his thieving outfit now and his other set of clothes where hidden elsewhere. He eyed the museum he was to rob then he grabbed a pair of binoculars and took a distant look at taeshi headquarters."ok so we have plans to take from taeshi. not going to be easy, should be in the office towards the top....then in the museum is the new art now up for grabs." sigmund said to himself switching the binoculars to an x ray setting. He smiled seeing the many paintings inside. then he moved back to the taeshi building and saw many lockers on one floor, then saw what seemed box like in the top floors. He then put away the binoculars and jumped off the antenna to land on the roof of the building even with the museum roof. he pulled out his bow notched an arrow fused with a coil of wire and took aim. The twang and whistle of the bows release as the arrow took flight was all to be heard as e arrow struck deep into the roof on the opposite end. Sigmund tapped the wire before stepping onto it, he checked his watch. " and its now night time with two minutes of light left before it gets really dark...perfect" sigmund thought as he grabbed his cane set the bow aside and prepared for his heists. "look out profit here i come." sigmund said before running across the wire to the museum.
As an engineer for war, a thief for hire, and a regular guy, one finds similarities to all these occupations in time.

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Re: Brushed Chrome (Neon Shadows) - IC

#15 Post by MUDPUNISHER »

Cursing to himself Anthony slid the revolver back into his suitcase and shoved it across the room, doing as they asked and kneeling on the floor with his hands behind his head taking off his jacket and hat, not really any other choice he obeyed. The businessman hid ring beneath his desk, an odor similar to feces filling the room, Did you [censored] yourself?!?! That's disgusting, for the love of god that smells.
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