RPG: Frostbite

[Eevee]

IC

 

"Yea, like this one guy I-... Dated. Had at least four missing teeth. He whistled without pursing his lips."

[Constructelf]

IC: Katsu

"Yikes. One of the guys at my work is like that too. And his teeth are yellow too."

[Eevee]

IC

 

"Oh? What do you do?" She asked, tilting her head playfully.

[Let's Henshin!]

INTRODUCING BLACK MASK INVESTIGATIONS IN...

 

A Ride With the Devil!  

 

It was a cool Saturday evening, the howling of the wind was the only thing more obnoxious than the sound of the typewriter. The constant tip tap, melded with the ferocious screech of the wind. It was a chaotic noise, a noise that suited this chaotic city well. As these thoughts flowed through my mind, I heard a tap on the door. It was rough tap, but it wasn't fast. The mark of man who carried himself with dignity. I knew right then that this case would be an interesting. That was when the odd stranger blew into our humble abode. We got a lot of those, but as I had suspected before, this one had a unique air. Equal parts wealth, equal parts criminal. But we didn't question him, who were we to turn away a client in need. 

 

Taking a seat, the man simply introduced himself as one Mr. Goto. While many of our clients used aliases, I had a feeling this wasn't one of those times. He seemed far to dignified to steep to a fake name in a case like this. He said he was in trouble and could use our help and naturally, we agreed to hear his case. The case itself started off fairly simple, there was no torrent, no whirlwind of information that made it unique, but it carried this air to it that something just wasn't right. 

 

A few days back a stranger had entered his house, her voice and figure revealed she was a female, but there was little else that served for identification. That was the first clue something was off, only a professional was that careful, there was always some clue, a strand of hair, a limp, a way of walking, but to Mr. Goto this women was devoid of all tells. The next piece of note was the item she had on her person. She carried with her a briefcase, and in it was a picture.

 

Mr. Goto didn't tell us what the picture was. That was the second clue that something was off, generally in the case of blackmail the victim either takes one of the two steps. Either they'll adamantly state that they were innocent and it was a doctored fake or they would say they had been foolish back then and they were a different person. While we were curious, we didn't pry, yet. Unsavory men will often give up their secrets later on. While we took notes of these thoughts Mr. Goto continued the story. He said the picture had a drastic effect on him, confirming our suspicions that this was a textbook case of blackmail. 

 

Once she was sure that Mr. Goto had seen the image, the women promptly burned it. That was the third sign of an odd case, blackmail generally left the evidence of blackmail intact for the victim. A way of further scarring, whatever the images entailed, it was too dangerous to be left floating around, even in the hands of the victim. She then left the briefcase with some instructions for further communication, a hint that they were not done with Mr. Goto. Her job completed, she then departed the building as swiftly as she arrived. From all these descriptions it became clear that she was quite skilled, and that this was not some half-assed attempt at blackmail. Peculiarity number 4. 

 

This little tells cued us into the fact that this case would be rather amusing. A case to our liking, and one that was bound to bring in a decent pay as well. When a case like this blew in through the door, the pertinent job was to snatch it up. In this windy city, it could quickly blow away to a different group and fall just out of reach. Plus we were in need of some new funds. Thus we took on the case, and ended up in the present time. 

 

IC: Deuce (Entering a Nightclub)

 

A black motorcycle pulled next to a bustling nightclub. The lights from inside could be seen even from the streets, flashing blues and yellows that seemed to be just begging for an epileptic to stroll by. The sound was even worse, an odd electronic sound that was far too distorted to be called music, and the people's yelling was even worse. The biker, now setting his black helmet down on his bike before locking everything up, wondered how the place even managed to stay open. One would expect that the neighbors would've complained at least once, but alas money had large say in this city. This sinful, windy city that never slept. 

 

His helmet set aside, and his bike all locked up, the jacketed man casually strolled into the building. The man's name was Deuce, and he was here on an important case. Well, importance was a relative term, but it was currently their only case and they needed the money. The reason for Deuce's arrival? It was simple, in this festering town certain places were hot spots for disease and this place was one of them. It was here that Deuce would find his informant, a sleazy money lender by the name of Alex X. Hoffman. The guy was like a maggot, always crawling around in the filthiest of dirt, sucking nutrients from places no one else would dare go. However at the same time he was also absolutely worthless, and completely harmless. The guy was a complete small fry, crawling around in the corpses of all of the big shots.  

 

From the moment he walked in, Deuce made sure that his walk was the simple casual kind, the kind of walk no one paid mind too. However his eyes were continuously scanning, they took into account odd and deadly characters, people that could spring a surprise on him. However his primary focus was in finding Hoffman, Deuce knew that he would be able to recognize the lender's greasy black hair anywhere. Sure enough, Hoffman was sitting at the bar, alone, as usual. 

 

Sliding in on the stool next to him, Deuce slung an arm over Hoffman's shoulder, startling the lonely man. "Hey Hoffman," Deuce spoke with a jolly tone, the tone of two friends meeting for a normal round of drinks. "You mind giving me a hand on some work?" No one else could possibly hear the two, with the sheer amount of noise in the place. 

 

"Uh hey, Deuce. Long time no see." The man was shivering in his seat, he had met Deuce three years ago, while working with the Lumos Drug Cartel, needless to say the man had completely wrecked the place. "Uh, how can help you." Hoffman just wanted to get this over with, the sooner he could leave, the better. 

 

"Have you heard of the Goto family? I was wondering if you knew anything about them, or who might want to blackmail them?" Deuce asked, not caring in the least about Hoffman's discomfort. 

 

Hoffman on the other hand was silent, his face had grown a little more pale, there was only so much he could talk about. "Look, I can't say much, but if I tell you something will you please just leave me alone?"

 

"Come on buddy, we're friends aren't we?" Hoffman's face displayed no signs of amusement at Deuce's words, "Fine, fine," Deuce responded raising a single hand in defeat, "I'll leave you alone for this case." 

 

"Thank you, there's some rumors that they've been involved with a man by the name of the Laughing Oni. I don't know anything else, I don't know their relation to him, or anything. I don't even know if its true, but that's all I know okay." Hoffman was practically begging for Deuce to leave, but the detective did not comply to his wishes. 

 

"Delta Emerald, run a search on the Laughing Oni and relay the information to Kenshin and Yoshi." 

 

"Yes Sir."

 

With the beginnings of his information acquired, Deuce leaned back, patiently awaiting Delta's information. 

Edited November 24, 2014 by Purple Devil

[Constructelf]

IC

 

"Oh? What do you do?" She asked, tilting her head playfully.

IC: Katsu

"Run a Karate dojo."

[Krayzikk]

The case walked through the door, just like all the others. In a city like this, usually they were little things. A missing family member, embezzled funds, little Spotty stuck up a skyscraper. But every now and again you get a big one. When you do, you can feel it like a lightning bolt running down your sky. Every nerve electrified, focusing in on the minutia. Every detail. When our current employer walked through the door, I knew this wasn’t one of the small ones. Our employer didn’t worry about payment. For him, such a fact was small. Inconsequential. For me it was a neon sign, lighting up the forefront of my mind brighter than Karatin’s red light district. When money was no object, much more interesting things came into play.

 

I gave the most cursory examination of the man when he entered. Surveying his gadgetry would have been most efficient, but also least courteous. Sometimes efficiency must yield. I don’t query Delta, not yet. Once I have his name, then I begin the process of slowly gathering intelligence. Having a background is important, especially for one’s employer. Contracts in this city have a nasty habit of carrying fine print, and that fine print all too often is written on the silencer of a Krueller-made .22. More interesting than our employer, however, was the woman who blackmailed him. From the information our employer was able to give, I turn up nothing. In this city of thousands, all too many of them contractors themselves. I use contractors in the loosest sense of the term. Most of them are little better than hired guns, no more refined in their methods than a grenade is in its. The higher you go, the more of them you see. The police don’t dissuade them unless they cause a commotion. Why would they? The police are hired guns themselves, and half of those they are intended to regulate are probably in the pocket of the very company that employed the enforcers. It’s not a matter of who watches the watchers. In Karatin, the watchers are the police. The watchers are the criminals. The game is all-encompassing, and its players see us as their pieces. Pieces of a grand game of strategy, to move about as needed. The opposition is as engineered and controlled as the allies. Everything in this city is connected.

 

Which is why when a big case walks through my door, a case like this, I pay attention. When you pull a strand as big as this might be in the tangled web, you’re bound to attract the spider’s attention.

 

IC:

 

“We need better informants.”

 

The comment rang out in the investigator’s ear, one clear sound above the sheer noise of his surroundings. The speaker wasn’t anywhere to be seen, though Deuce didn’t expect him to be. Yoshirou Nakahara was rarely present in the flesh when the voice would do.

 

Far away, information scrolled across a flat screen monitor, granting understanding with blue-tinted light. The beginnings of Delta’s findings. Such information was not sufficient, however. Delta was useful, but its capacity was limited. It gave what it could find, no more, no less. More often than not, Yoshi needed more.

 

“Nothing useful so far. Try running what we know about the blackmailer by him. They’re both part of that same underworld, maybe he’ll have heard something about her.”

Edited November 24, 2014 by Ninth Krayzikk

[Silvan Haven]

The other two are probably waxing philosophical in their case files so I'll keep this short and sweet. Somebody has to write something that people can understand without a PHD and a dozen awards from debate events.

 

I guess we are going to call this one A Ride With The Devil.

 

I was in the gym beating an I-beam into the rough shape of an overcooked piece of spaghetti when the client came in. Delta Onyx brought up the security cam footage from the main office for me. It was pretty plain the guy was a criminal, a pretty highly placed one from the way he dressed and moved. It was something you learned to notice after hunting them for almost thirty years. I had probably killed one of the guy's family members at some point.

 

Whatever he was, the man a client and we needed the money. The bank books were getting a little slim the last month.

 

I watched as he explained the situation. A fairly standard case of blackmail, it was odd that the lady had delivered the photo in person. Most certainly a middleman, and one with confidence in her skills to boot. A troublesome case to be sure.

 

This was going to be fun.

 

 

IC: The retired soldier sat astride his motorcycle across the street from the nightclub, ready in case Deuce made a mess. The other man may have been in charge of meeting contacts, but it was Kenshin's job to make sure Deuce made it out alive, something the older man had to do more often than he was comfortable with.

 

His black helmet was the only piece of metal visible above the trench coat that covered his body. His rifle was still hidden in a compartment in the vehicle while his katana hidden within the folds of leather that covered him. Kenshin's head was constantly turning, making no effort to hide the fact that he was constantly checking the area for threats. In this part of town an easily seen threat was more likely to help prevent trouble than a hidden one.

 

"Just make sure you don't start another bar fight when he tries to run, kid."

Edited November 24, 2014 by Silvan Haven

[Zulu Yankee Kilo Echo]

IC: Cy

 

Cy nodded and continued on, making sure to shut off his e-reader this time. He didn't want to owe anyone else dinner--not for any financial reason; no, he just didn't want to have to spend any more time around another human being than he had to.

 

Now, where was he..? Ah, yes, that detective duo he'd been asked to keep an eye on. After a short Lev ride, he was standing about a block from the Optic checking his ammo pouches.

[Eevee]

IC

 

"I see... Judging by your demeanor, I don't think you run those kiddie classes, am I right?"

 

Well, at least I know why the women aren't all over him.

 

However, as she went back to smile, she saw another man enter the club. She watched him closely, something about him made her feel a bit uneasy. Yet, she shook it off and smiled back at Katsu.

Edited November 24, 2014 by Eevee

[Constructelf]

IC: Katsu

"Nope. Usually I run the adult classes; my coworkers handle the young ones."

[Eevee]

IC

 

"I see. Can't handle them?" She teased, her eyes stealing a glance at the stranger again, making sure she didn't know him.

[Constructelf]

IC: Katsu

"I guess," Katsu half chuckled, half sighed. "Sometimes it's them that can't handle me."

[Eevee]

IC

 

"Now that sounds like bragging." She said with a frown. "And what? Why can't kids handle you? You some sort of control freak?" Lavinia asked with a giggle, however, a hint of ice singed her words.

[Constructelf]

IC: Katsu

Katsu sighed. "I go too gung-ho with the 'martial' aspect. They say I push them too hard, as if I was a drill sergeant or something." Katsu took another sip. "Sometimes I wonder if I was born in the wrong century or something; everybody says I've got my head stuck in the Sengoku era."

[Eevee]

IC

 

"You're just an old man." She mused.

[Constructelf]

IC: Katsu

"Early 30s used to be old. Not anymore."

[Eevee]

IC

 

"I meant your demeanor. You sort of act like an old man."

[NorikSigma]

IC: Petra Ingram/Nemesis

Dawn broke grey and cold on the surface of the lower city. Petra was awake to see it.

 

One hour, one tin of luncheon meat and one cup of stale coffee later, Petra climbed onto the top of the ruined building. There were canvas lining the back of the building to the next, which would lead to a nice escape for Petra.

 

She pulled out her IWS chassis, attaching the sniper set to it. It clicked home nicely. She attached her scope, ensuring it was pointed the right way.

 

She could hear the sounds of a convoy of cars way off from the right.

 

She loaded a magazine.

 

She saw the homeless scatter from something.

 

She looked down at the detonator in her hand, and primed it.

 

She saw three cars flanked by motorcycles trundling down the torn street. Some guards following them shot at some of the homeless, chasing them off. The residential guards did nothing to help, but shoved the guards away when they came near to the tumbled ruins.

 

She took out her binocs.

 

The warehouse overseer came out with a small entourage to greet the engineer as the convoy just reached the gates.

She thumbed the detonator.

 

The wire charges, that were set in the wee hours of the morning, lining the gate and criss crossing the road in front of the entrance exploded. The gate blew open, and debris knocked the motorcycles down.

 

At the same time, claymores hidden in the rubble spewed forth their deadly charge at the convoy. The chain link fence on both sides of the gate blew apart as well, spewing shrapnel everywhere.

 

The front car, conveniently placed over one of three plastic explosives buried in the holes in the road, flipped over and smashed the warehouse overseer and his crew. The escorts were dead, riddled with shrapnel. The middle car veered to the side, tires popped by the wire charges, and the back car slammed to its rear.

 

The two cars, piled-up, blocked the exit, leaving a rescue crew stuck in the warehouse parking lot, blocked by the three wrecks.

 

Nemesis aimed down the scope as a man in a moustache, undoubtedly a bleeding Vasska, stumbled out of the middle car, a guard behind him. Both seemed dazed and confused.

 

She fired.

 

The bullet hit Vasska in the chest and he fell, but didn't seem to be dead yet. The guard pulled out his pistol and fired at Nemesis. She ducked although it missed, before coming up and firing again. This time, the shot killed its target, as the guard fell to the ground, brains blown to pieces.

 

She aimed again, looking at Vasska through the scope. The man crawled away to the side of the road and tried to get up, but the bullet was too damaging.

 

He's just a man.

Petra hesitated.

He's a target, a thing you shoot to kill.

Nemesis reminded herself.

He's just a tool. He doesn't deserve to die. His family will suffer.

Petra told herself.

 

No one deserves to die, but they do anyway. All of them, in fact, die. Either you do, or he does.

Nemesis shrugged it off.

No, there's a better way.

Petra shook her head.

Remember your training. You are sent to kill. Do your job.

Nemesis reiterated.

Petra fumed. She packed her weapons and walked back down to the ground floor.

 

She crossed the scene of death and walked up to Vasska. He was choking on his own blood.

 

He managed to croak out, "Someone... They... Not now. I never did..."

 

Petra shook her head. There was another way to serve her employers.

 

Sirens wailed in the background. Probably the Watchmen: they knew how to respond quickly.

 

Two police cars, filled with armed officers, roared down Karadžić.

 

Petra stepped past the gate and into the warehouse. The employees were running out of the emergency exits, leaving many, many million, nay, billion ruble cars exposed in neat rows.

 

Five minutes later, Petra exited with the stragglers into the slums behind the warehouse as the armed security officers fired at some of the employees, oblivious to the few remaining explosives hidden in strategic sections like fuel tanks half-filled with gasoline or oxygen and hydrogen tanks.

She pressed the detonator.

 

***

The news later reported that employees swayed by a rival company, backed by "dissident troublemaking movements", likely many of them, heavily armed, attacked the warehouse and slaughtered their coworkers before committing suicide, blowing up three "security personnel carriers" who had entered the building with "lightly-armed security guards". Vasska, who happened to be visiting at the time, was badly injured but survived. Unfortunately, the explosion had dictated that doctors remove his legs and one hand, while he also had to use a special breathing apparatus as his lung was lightly penetrated by a bullet "from a stray terrorist's gun". Doubtless, he could no longer contribute to Igneous, so it was speculated that they paid him a hefty pension. The "rival company" was bought over and "assimilated" by Igneous. Left unmentioned were the billions of rubles' worth of cars gone in flames.

 

Petra sold the car next week, reaping six times the price, rather than just three. She waited for her employer to call and reprimand her as she chewed on a sausage sandwich, reading about Puretex.

 

IC: Karla Jenson

 

This man... There's something about him.

 

Karla followed Cy at a distance. She took the same Lev car as him, making sure to remain hidden.

 

As he stopped in alleyway, Karla turned her coat inside out, transforming it into a light blue windbreaker. She removed her sunglasses, combed off the dye to reveal blue hair under the golden dye, and shook her hair loose. The locks were getting irritating anyway.

 

Now looking like a normal resident, Karla hid in the shadows of a nearby block and watched as Cy checked what looked suspiciously similar to ammo pouches.

[Constructelf]

IC

 

"I meant your demeanor. You sort of act like an old man."

IC: Katsu

"I... Guess?"

[Eevee]

IC

 

Lavinia pouted. "Oh you're no fun. You're supposed to argue."

[Constructelf]

IC: Katsu

"Eh. I guess i can't really deny it, so no point in arguing... Though is that a bad thing?"

[Let's Henshin!]

IC: Deuce (The Optic, talking to Hoffman) 
 
"Yeah, yeah," Deuce muttered under his breath as he leaned back against the bar, to any casual onlooker it would appear he was just continuing to engage in conversation with his messy acquaintance. The words themselves would most definitely not reach the ears of any others, not even Hoffman. "We need better informants, and come on Kenshin, don't you have any faith in me." 
 
However while Deuce was bantering with his compatriots, Hoffman had been casually slinking away. Still, he only made it two or so steps away from the table before Deuce noticed, at which point the detective got up and slung his arm around Hoffman again, the smell of grease invaded his nostrils. "Come on buddy, why you trying to disappear again. Also seriously, take a shower already."
 
"You said you were going to leave me alone," Hoffman muttered in response, his voice was low so only Deuce could hear him, he knew very well drawing any more attention to himself could prove deadly. 
 
"Yeah, I know and I wish I could but," 
 
"Oh god, why is there a but."
 
"Shut up. Anyway, I need to ask you about more one tiny detail." 
 
"It's never a tiny detail or one more thing." 
 
Deuce sighed, "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to interrupt someone when they're talking?" When Hoffman kept his mouth shut, Deuce continued, "Anyway, I just need one more piece of information. Namely, do you know of anyone skilled enough to be hired to directly handle a blackmail, sneak into a mansion, present a briefcase, and then escape without a single clue being left behind other than the fact that they're female?" 
 
"I mean," Hoffman paused, as he gathered his thoughts, "there's a few people, but all of them could easily kill me if I leaked information." 
 
"Oh come on," Deuce petitioned, "I promise you they won't ever find out." 
 
Nervously glancing around, Hoffman finally spoke after brief pause, his voice was quiet and nondescript. "Nemesis, Lovelace, Hebe, maybe Nao." His answer appeared to be enough for Deuce because the detective then smiled, before bring up his wrist pad once more. 
 
"Hey Delta." 
 
"Let me guess sir, you wish for me to run those names. Same procedure as before." 
 
"Uh yeah."

"I wonder how I could possibly have known?" 

"You're a real life saver." Deuce replied, only to receive a simple affirmation from the A.I. However during this exchange, Hoffman had continued nervously looking around, and something or someone had caught his eye, completely petrifying the man for a moment. Then he broke out into a run, just in time for Deuce to notice his anxiety. "Oh bloody-why do they always run," quickly switching to comm, Deuce bluntly stated, "Hey Kenshin, you were right, he's coming out."

[Perp]

IC - Adriana Oswell - Laquearia - Near The Optic Nightclub

__________

 

A man quickly bolted from the entrance of the nightclub.
 

Quickly ramping the magnification back in to view the man's face, the sniper quickly determined that he was neither of Bethany Tate's chaperones, and was probably of no interest to her. 

She zoomed the magnification back out to watch the entire scene, still wary of the man but more concerned about spotting her actual target.

* * *

IC: Chad Mulligan

The model composed himself.

 

"Uh, ahem, uh... sorry I bumped you."

He started turning away to find an empty table.

* * *

IC: Petra Ingram's phone buzzed with a message.

"Not exactly what I had in mind, but it worked nonetheless. Stock's dropped like a hovercar without fuel. Convenient for one betting the wrong way. I've made the arrangements so that none of this will be able to be traced, and that your debacle at the warehouse was covered up neatly. Regards."

Edited November 26, 2014 by Perpetual Darkness

[Eevee]

IC

 

"A bit." She sighed, frowning. "I think I'm going to get a drink." Lavinia grumbled, a bit disgruntled that he didn't buy her one.

 

She slid up to the bar, close to Deuce and sighed. "Hey, can I get a manhattan? Stirred." She added quickly to her order.

[Silvan Haven]

Kenshin Harken- Outside the Optic- Chasing Scum

 

IC: It had hardly been a work of mind reading, people like this Hoffman fellow always ran when they felt some sort of danger.  In this case it seemed that Deuce had asked about three too many questions for the informant's comfort.

 

With an almost audible sigh, Kenshin got off his bike and took off after the man who was now his quarry. For the first part of the chase he kept back, never going faster than what a normal person would be capable of. that changed once they entered an alley out of sight of the street. With a burst of speed that cracked the pavement beneath his feet Kenshin quickly caught up with the informant and grabbed a hand. A simple tug and twist was all it took to bring Hoffman to a halt and lock up his entire arm.

 

From there it did not even take a quarter turn of the ensnared wrist to make the shorter man collapse to his knees with a cry of pain as his body involuntarily tried to remove itself from the position that was causing stress warnings to shoot up the limb.

 

"I have him." Kenshin said into his helmet's radio, the full head protective gear preventing any of his voice from escaping outside. "Do you want me to bring him back to the club or should we just continue this outside?"

[Let's Henshin!]

IC: Deuce (The Optic, Complaining About Scum)

 

Deuce just sighed, keeping his voice inaudible to anyone else, Deuce gave Kenshin the go ahead to continue asking Hoffman questions. After all his was pretty much done with that scum. "Hey Yoshi, pick up anything?"

 

As he awaited his answer, Deuce let himself fall back against the counter. He then raised an eyebrow as he saw a women approach the counter, judging from her sigh and demeanor, Deuce figured she was also fairly annoyed. As his usual sociable self, Deuce commiserated with her. "Rough night?"

Edited November 26, 2014 by Purple Devil

[Eevee]

IC

 

"Oh yea." She said as she took a long sip of her drink when the bartender handed it to her. "What about you? I'm guessing you are out of luck tonight some way or another from the way the guy ran out of here." She motioned with her drink free hand to the door.

[Silvan Haven]

Kenshin Harken- Outside the Optic- Interrogating Scum

 

IC: Kenshin was quiet for several seconds. To be honest there was not all that much more information that they needed and that the informant was likely to know. A thought came to him and he switched his external speakers on. A distorted and slightly flanged voice filled the alley.

 

"Why did you run from the bar?"

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"There isn't much to be said on this lot. Based on the range in names given, I've taken the liberty of adding a few more potential names. An operative named 'Omicron' likely has the skill, but this isn't particularly her forte, based upon what information is available." With the tap of a few keys, Yoshirou assigned a screen to each of the names available to him. Profiles scrolled at a steady pace, relaying all pertinent information available. "Hebe has the most data. Usually seen using the latest Krueller gear before it hits the market. Links to the company can be assumed."

"There is almost nothing available on Nemesis, though a few crimes are suspected to be linked to her. Much the same goes for Lovelace, though there is a much clearer timeline on when her activities started."

 

The hacker sat back in his chair, surveying the information before him. "Based on this data, a few other operatives are potentially possible. Black Shadow, Specter, and our dear friend Bloody Mary. Horrible names aside, these probably aren't our woman. This job is a little too far outside their preferred contracts, and for some of them, outside their skill level."

 

A pause.

 

"None of these names, however, are people we should take lightly. There are some very, very nasty things they're suspected of."

[Let's Henshin!]

IC: Deuce (The Optic, Talking to Lavinia and Yoshi)

 

"Yeah well, people just seem to panic so easily." Deuce chuckled, "reminds me of this one time in Budapest. You see..." Deuce's story was cut off however, when Yoshi rang back in. "Excuse me for a moment, I've got some work to take care of," Deuce explained to the women before diverting his attention to Yoshi.

 

When Yoshi had finished explaining the data, Deuce took a moment to think before replying, his voice quiet as normal to guard against curious ears. Still he took the extra precaution of keeping his words vague, that way he could just as easily be looking for an author or painter. "Somehow I doubt a company contractor would be involved. So that's one out. I agree with you on the others, so that really just leaves two. Run through their available previous work, we'll figure out who's best for this job through that." 

 

As he left Yoshi to deal with the data, Deuce turned back to Lavinia, "Sorry about that, duty calls and all that." 

Edited November 26, 2014 by Purple Devil

[Eevee]

IC

 

"Sounds like you're awfully important if they're calling you this late." She giggled, playfully winking. "I'm used to stuff like that, dad was a business man and he was always getting called at odd hours."

[Let's Henshin!]

IC: Deuce (The Optic, Talking to Lavinia)

 

"Not particularly," Deuce replied, "It's a pretty small group and we all work odd hours. What kind of business did your dad do?" 

Edited November 26, 2014 by Purple Devil

[Eevee]

IC

 

"He worked with stocks; dealt with a lot of international clients." She replied before taking another sip from her Manhattan. "And even small groups are important, you know?"

[Let's Henshin!]

IC: Deuce (The Optic, Talking to Lavinia)

 

"Sound boring," Deuce stated bluntly, before hastily adding, "No offense. And small groups really can't do much in this MegaCorp city, you either flounder and make enough money to barely survive, or start making a name and get bought up by bigger corporations. It's like the situation with this one group in Tibet. I was assisting some locals with making their transportation industry flourish and along comes Igneous and buys everything up." 

 

The full story stretched out a bit more, a smuggling ring, a lot of burning snowmobiles, a runaway bike, and a demented Yeti were all involved but Deuce figured it was best to not mention those little tidbits. Needless to say quite a few people at Igneous had lost their jobs thanks to Deuce.  

[Silvan Haven]

OOC: Since Omar is being lazy to take care of Hoffman.

 

IC: The vocal modifications of the helmet had been designed to send a chill down the back of a hardened soldier, on scum like Alex it was overkill. For a second it looked like the man was going to faint from fright, before a twitch of the ensnared wrist snapped him out of it and got the pile of grease babbling like his life depended on it.

 

"IsawLovelaceintheclubdrinkingwithsomeguyandIdon'twanttodieohpleasedon'tkillmeee."

 

The last part came out as some sort of ragged half sob as the informant ran out of breath and chocking on terror while attempting to get it all out as quickly as possible. Releasing the other man, Kenshin stood back up, dropping several moderately sized ruble bills in front of Hoffman. Once again deactivating his external speakers, Kenshin spoke as he walked back to his bike.

 

"Delta Onyx, see if we have any pictures of Lovelace and send them to Deuce. She is somewhere in the bar with him and its one of the best leads we have. Also, Deuce? You and I remember Budapest very differently."

[Eevee]

IC

 

"No, you're right, it was boring." Lavinia laughed as she slid up next to Deuce, watching him intently as he spoke. "Yea... The fat cats always ruin small businesses." She agreed. "I tried to start a small shop but I couldn't compete with the large corporations... Wish someone like you could've helped me."

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

For Yoshi, finding data was easy. Gathering up all of the available information on Nemesis and Lovelace was child's play. Though his search occasionally turned up an interesting fact, a piece of information to be specifically remembered, much of it was... Monotonous. His fingers moved across the keyboard almost of their own will, their owner occasionally speaking up to issue a query to the Delta Database Library. He was operating efficiently, but it was on autopilot. His higher consciousness wasn't invested in it, using the brainpower left over to ponder the case as a whole.

 

This changed the instant Kenshin spoke.

 

Not for the first time, the hacker cursed his associate's distaste for modern technology. With an augmented reality display, even a camera, he would have had infinitely more options for his inquiry. As it is, he needed a workaround. He needed visuals.

 

"Deuce, heads up. Lovelace is somewhere in that club. I'll have tactical overviews and aid online within..." The hacker cast a glance to the clock on his computer. "... Five minutes. Tops."

 

Finding the club's security systems was easy. A basic security camera network, sufficient for his purposes. Jacking into virtual reality was even easier.

 

Now the fun part began.

[Let's Henshin!]

IC: Deuce (The Optic, Talking to Lavinia, Receiving Information from Yoshi and Kenshin) 

 

"Incoming information from Delta Onyx. Depending on the priority of your continued existence, you might consider taking a look." 

 

The notification drew Deuce away from his conversation with Lavinia, who was suddenly closer to him, a fact that did worry the detective. While he didn't display such worries visibly, he did ready subconsciously ready himself, generally someone getting closer meant they were prepping for an attack and Deuce didn't want to be caught off guard. "Excuse me for a moment, another call." 

 

Deuce then turned himself away from Lavinia, once more dropping his voice low so that no prying ears could partake, and making sure his wrist pad was out of visible sight of anyone other than him, "Hey Delta, could you a be bit more subtle and nice next time?" 

 

"I'll get right on that. Anyway, the pictures?" 

 

Technology these days, however as Deuce started checking the blurry images of what could only be discerned as a women, the rest of the information came flowing in... Lovelace was in the building, Yoshi was pulling techno-magic, Kenshin was racist towards Budapesters and was scaring fast food, it was a rapid influx of information and it was his job to start reacting. First off the pictures illustrated someone with a similar m.o. as the perpetrator of the crime, which lent even more credence to Lovelace being the suspect, even better she was in the building. Next, in a few moments Yoshi would have seized the video feed and could start running checks on everyone else. However first Deuce could implement a more low tech approach.

 

Turning around with a smile, Deuce put his plan into place. "Sorry about that, things seem fairly busy today." There was a slight pause, "Say, mind giving me a hand? Right now I'm helping a small publishing firm and a writer, and the guy needs some inspiration. It's why he keeps hounding me, but long story short he can't figure out who he can base his female villain off of. He always did have difficulty with with appearances, he's been sending me pictures and other information all day, asking for my opinion. Basically she's a criminal contractor, someone who gets hired for stuff like blackmail but never leaves a trace of herself behind, see anyone in here who could fit that admittedly vague description?"

[25K Now!]

IC: Antso

 

"GOODBYE."

 

And Antso ambled away.

[NorikSigma]

IC: Petra Ingram

 

Petra deleted the text and lay back on her fifth-hand recliner, turning back to her computer and reading up on more information about Puretex.