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IC: Petra


Petra sighed.


"You'd think that with a highly secret assignment like this, they'd at least attempt to use my alias on the paper trial, but noo."


She pondered for a second on where to hide the car until after the assassination. Perhaps...


Half a hour later, Petra exited the XC-80, leaving it parked in the abandoned carpark of the building, covering it with a camp net that projected an image of the ground, effectively hiding the car. It cost her a pretty penny, but the payment would cover it.


Petra walked home while accessing information about her target.

Edited by Tenth Norik
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His phone was ringing while he walked over to Beef; Sloan, a master of doing several things at once, slid off his jacket and tossed it around Bethany's shoulders. With his free hand, he gestured at Beef to take off his beanie and put it over Bethany's distinctive hair. With his shoulder, he held the phone to his jaw.


"Sloan Jamowitz, Slo 'n' Beef Security, please hold." Slo pulled the beanie down a little further on Bethany. He covered the phone with his abdomen and spoke to Beef. "We can't bring her back to the office, too public, too easy for a merc to pop in. Let's get her set up in the cabin. Walk with your head straight, Bethany. If you look down and there's anyone looking to kill you outside, trying to hide will only get you spotted. Sneeze and cough a little for emphasis. Think you can pretend to have the sniffles?"


He turned his attention back to the phone call.


"Thank you for calling Slo 'n' Beef Security, be with you in a minute," he promised. "In the meantime, enjoy some Marvin Gaye. Closest we got to hold music."






Edited by Tyler Durden



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IC - Adriana Oswell - Medius to Laquearia


Arriving home, Adriana composed herself before she prepared to go... "hunting".


With her overcoat on, she decided to skip her hat and just take what she needed, all the while using her neural implants to try and ascertain where Tate might be. She'd have to dip into her contacts with Your Local Collective, but her client had called for discretion, so actually speaking to anyone she knew was out of the question...


She made sure she was running a scrambler program and an alias login to check their private archives, just in case... huh. She paused, scrolling though YLC's meticulous digital 'business' ledger.


That was a big transaction. Five hundred thousand rubles paid out to... "Slo 'n' Beef Security"? That was today, not too long ago. Lot of cash.


Curious, she looked into the encrypted tags regarding the transaction - a feat made easier by her history with YLC.


Oh. One of the tags was "B. Tate."


Okay, that was no coincidence. Better that she DID mask her presence in YLC's databases.

This information would make her job much easier, though at a higher risk.

She reopened the "Job" message and sent a quick reply.

"There is a complication. Private security's been hired to protect Tate. Total discretion is out of the question. I'll need to do this quickly and cleanly. I'm going to need triple if you want this done efficiently as possible."


Now, where was she?

She looked into Tate's accounts, searching for anything that might lead her to her Target. If she fled the KNS Apartment Complex, where could she feasibly go? She made a mental list of the most likely locations she would flee to for safety. If she'd gone off the grid, it was likely she'd be somewhere where she could blend in anonymously. Bars or nightclubs were a safe bet. There were two in the immediate area around the KNS AC, the Optic and the Czar's Mug.

Looking through the accounts belonging to Tate, the Optic seemed to be the more prominent choice. If she wasn't there, the job would be a whole lot more difficult.

Her last task was to download a few images of Tate's face, as well as the faces of the proprietors of Slo 'n' Beef, Sloan Jamowitz and Beef Stroganoff - the latter two took some more digging than the first.




Who the ###### would name their child "Beef Stroganoff"?

Satisfied that she'd got enough detail, she fed the info to a program linking her brain's pattern recognition system to her neural implants and her cybernetically-enhanced eyes. It was a makeshift tracking program; a "face-finder," much more accurate than what a normal human brain and ocular set could manage, but not typically the best thing on the market. Still, if her eyes could potentially see their faces, they would.

Grabbing her Phantom and her Mimas, she took the keys to her Hoverbike, locked her apartment and set off for the Optic.



* * *

IC: Chad Mulligan


Chad was entranced.

"Nice, uh, ahem, nice to- nice to... meet you."


He kept staring.

Edited by Perpetual Darkness
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IC: "So." Beef said with a casual smirk as the two began to walk to the door, Beef looking like a lifelong friend having just run into Bethany for the first time in a month. "Come here often?"

On the inside, though, the Russian's mind had already begun working. Which route would be the best to take, how exactly to get there, and most of all, how to keep his charge safe and sound. He was rough, rugged, and tough as they come, arguably one of the hardest of the motherland's sons to kill since Rasputin, but the game is decidedly different when you have someone else to look out for that didn't have as seasoned and level a head on their shoulders as Slo.

It was hard enough with him, as a matter of fact.

helo frens

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IC - Adriana Oswell - Laquearia - Near The Optic Nightclub



Using her hoverbike beat the ###### out of taking the Levs. She was at the nightclub within minutes. Along the way, she had surmised a few things.

Tate must still be at the Optic. A few things pointed to this - the foremost being the distance between the SnB Security headquarters and the Optic, as well as the timestamp of the YLC transaction. Comparing the two numbers allowed her to discern when they might arrive.

That was the thing - SnB hadn't got to her yet. With THAT much cash being offered, it couldn't be payment in full - YLC often made two transactions for jobs - one for advance and one upon completion of the job. It was reasonable to assume professionals like SnB would've asked for something in advance to ensure they weren't getting conned. YLC never paid in full before a job. Therefore, the 500k HAD to be an advance, and the fact that the rest of the cash hadn't been transacted yet meant they hadn't completed their job - especially considering how recent the first transaction had been.

Comparing the time she had guessed Tate's location in to the time it might've taken SnB to find her gave her a reasonable estimate of when SnB would arrive, and so she arrived early accordingly; idling her bike across the street from the main entrance of the club, and up a hundred metres, giving her a birds-eye view of the situation, amplified and detailed by her cybernetic eyes.

She waited for the duo to arrive. 
She pulled out her Phantom and sighted the area through her scope, using her mechanical left arm to perfectly steady the rifle, watching the nightclub and the surrounding streets carefully.

Cars of all sorts pulled in and out to the Optic's parking area, and streets around. She watched the patrons entering and exiting carefully.

Within the hour, emerging from a car parked a street over, were two men, who began approaching the nightclub.

She was about to tear her gaze away when a ping of familiarity was sparked in her brain. She increased the scope's magnification.

It was them - her brain instantly recognized their faces, thanks to the makeshift face-finder she had cooked up and the magnification of the rifle. The duo quickly disappeared into the building. 

Adriana sighed in relief. What a job. All guesswork. Lucky break, I guess.

Well, their car was still outside, so they'd have to come back to it once - if - they had Tate. She could wait and see.

Quickly, she lowered her rifle and moved down the street, still maintaining her height. Now right across from the street where the duo's car was parked, she angled her bike so she could watch both the nightclub's entrance and the vehicle.

She reached for a battery, slotting it into the stock of the Phantom and powering the coilgun up. She removed the automated spotting scope, turned it on and paired it with the computer systems in the Phantom's scope. She attached the spotting scope to the front of the hoverbike and made sure its viewfinder was focused on the area from the entrance to the car.

Grabbing a magazine, Adriana loaded the Phantom, charged it and flicked the safety off, sighting up, perfectly steadied by her cybernetic left arm.

Zooming the magnification out so she could just barely see both the entrance and the car, she waited.

Edited by Perpetual Darkness
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IC: Beth


"Not really," Beth replied, playing along. "Just special occasions."


She threw in a fake cough.


"Got a promotion today."


OOC: Got Perp's approval for this guy:


IC: Cyril


As much as Cyril Gavreau enjoyed holding a real book in his hands, he couldn't deny the convenience of digital ones, especially to a DNI user such as himself. Today, his evening walk was accompanied by Wool, a rather compelling post-apocalyptic narrative from the pre-Plague days. The words scrolled through his vision as he walked, tea-filled thermos in one hand while the other three rested in pockets.


His attention only shifted from the story when he had to cross the street--so entranced was he by the plight of the denizens of Silo 18 that it was perhaps inevitable that he would run collide certain Karla Jenson and spill just enough hot tea on his own face to shock him out of this trance. Once his mind had returned to the physical realm, he muttered a few "sorry"s and unzipped his satchel with his spare arms while his flesh-and-blood hands, still holding his supper, rubbed at his eyes. He pulled a packet of tissues from his satchel only to drop it before he could get it open. 


Now he remembered why he preferred physical books.

Edited by Zulu Yankee Kilo Echo


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IC: Karla Jenson


Karla made a show of being angry and started to clean her self up, before grabbing the tissues and using it to clean the tea off herself, before handing the soiled tissues to Cyril.


"If you're really sorry, you'll get rid of these for me. Watch where you're going, not at your digital book." It was really guesswork that the man as reading a book. Nobody looked this engrossed at this neighbourhood's scenery.

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IC: Cy


Upon hearing the words "four-arms," Cy's jovial smile vanished.


"Oh," he said, dabbing at his face with a tissue. "it's just that these things"--he held up his lower arms for emphasis--"are usually the first things people notice."


He brushed off his jeans with the spare limbs and continued wiping his face with the regular ones.


"Spot on guess, by the way. The book's Wool, in case you were wondering. Fantastic read."

Edited by Zulu Yankee Kilo Echo


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IC: Karla


"I'm probably too preoccupied with my ruined dress to notice such trivialities as mechanical arms. As for your boom, it's apparently too fantastic for you to look where you're going," she scoffed.


"Out of curiosity, what's it about?"


OOC: Petra post to be added later.

Edited by Tenth Norik
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IC: Cy


The question caught Cy off guard.


"Well," he said. "in short, it takes places after an apocalypse that has turned the atmosphere so toxic that the survivors have to live underground."


He scratched the back of his neck.


"And I really am sorry," he said. "Honestly, it's not the first time this happened. Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"


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IC: Karla Jenson

She contemplated for a while. She really didn't want to take advantage of him, but for purposes of keeping up her pretense as a stuck up model...


"I want to eat a free lunch."




IC: Petra Ingram


Petra headed home on the Lev Car. It was less crowded at this time of the day.


Once she reached home, she got to work mining information on Vasska Karolewski, his history, status, and Igneous' general policy when sending an important employee to a dangerous locale.


Next, she read up on the layout of Karadžić avenue and the surrounding Laquearian areas. It was a fairly quiet area, but not exactly void of residents. She would have to be careful of witnesses.


Petra also managed to obtain the layout of the warehouse, which was fairly standard.


Finally, Petra read up on and viewed news videos on high profile Igneous events to study their usual security personnel. They seemed to be fairly standard, with plainclothes guards flanking the important people, with armed soldier types scattered at key portions of the convoy. For this assignment, it would probably be scaled down.


Karolewski would be visiting in the afternoon, so Petra had the morning and whatever hours were left today to scout out a suitable attack and escape plan.


She looked at the little clock in the corner. 12:58 a.m. It was nighttime.


Petra knew that she could benefit from sleep, but sleep never brought peace to her.


Petra scribbled down several important notes before suiting up. She put on a double-sided coat, her distinctive holster, put on her combat shoes(made to withstand bullets, extreme heat, and cramped toes) and picked her weapons. She brought a binoculars, a .44 Magnum, a Colt Pistol and her IWS for this scouting mission.


Under the cover of darkness(more of glaring neon lights and stoned drunks, to be exact), Petra drove the Igneous XC-80 to the richer districts to blend her car in before using the roadways that connected the districts to the top.


As she parked her car underground the surface city(there were no apparent roadways that led from this part of the bottom of Laqueria to the surface), Petra remembered the first time she had gone to the surface. It was before she had taken on a stable identity, and she was on a job. The sunlight had blinded and frightened her then, but she felt alive. Even the raw, cold air that stung her eyes and bit her face felt... good.


This time, though, it was at night, and it felt even worse up here than down below. The air was oppressively bitter and chilled her, and the darkness was worse. Down below, there was always some sort of lighting, be it a trash fire, broken neon signs or the flash of a plasma gun. Up here, everything felt unchecked.


Pull yourself together. You've been through worse, she reminded herself. But it was hard to do so. A group of homeless people huddled around a burning corpse for warmth. One of them stated hungrily at Petra. The others followed suit. Their stares... Petra didn't know if they wanted to eat her or do something worse.


No, not Petra anymore, she reminded herself. You're in a danger zone now. You're Nemesis.


Nemesis' eyes started to dilate, her breath became steady and strong, and her senses were on alert.


She quietly made her way to Karadžić. It contained warehouses, indistinguishable from one another but for the plaques on their entrances, on one side, while several collapsed or half-collapsed buildings occupied the other side. They seemed to serve some sort of housing function now, with noticeable lights and sounds coming from the more structurally sound buildings, including what sounded like television sets.


The most noticeable feature of these buildings, though, were the armed guards around it. Numbering half a dozen, they were dressed in normal clothes and looked the same as any other residents. Except for their rifles.


Nemesis found an abandoned hut and entered. It was quiet and relatively dry, so it wouldn't be too uncomfortable in here.


She pulled out the binocs, which fed into her DNIs, and scanned the warehouse. There was a wall around it, with guards and a guard house. Nothing special.


She trained the binocs on the nearer buildings. Fortunately those were abandoned, as well as pretty broken, meaning many possible sniping spots, perhaps.


Nemesis contemplated the myriad assassination methods. Sniping, plastic charges, wire explosives, run and gun, poison...



She spent the night in the hut.

Edited by Tenth Norik
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You know what isn't boring? Going to the club. Lavinia thought to herself as she gazed at the club across the street. She smiled to herself before crossing over, quickly getting let into the club.


She scanned the club, pouting a bit before making her way to the bar.

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Once seated, Lavinia scanned the club again, spotting a man by himself. He looked like he was alone, meaning she could get a few free drinks out of him.


She got up, smiling as she walked over to him. "Hai." She greeted him softly, sitting down next to him.

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My god, why did I choose this guy?


"That's very wise." She smiled as she twirled her a chestnut lock around her finger.


This guy could bore a stone to death.


"So... I see you aren't a guy for sweet stuff." She commented, pointing to his drink.

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