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[SRA IC] Depths of Anarchy [2075 Game Thread]

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Aria

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« on: <11-14-16/0759:13> »
[Wednesday March 6th, 2075; Staging Post Alpha7, Briefing Room, Tacoma, Seattle]

Captain Dern paced the commandeered room in the small Ares subsidiary office in Tacoma.  It had been a meeting room, but the desks had been shoved to one side and the rest of the space was filled with the AR intelligence info, continually being updated from the surveillance drones monitoring the target. 

He hated working with outside contractors, they tended to be ill disciplined and often insubordinate and impeded the smooth operations of his team…but in this case they were an unfortunate necessity.  Management had decreed that the bug nest needed to be dealt with now…and he certainly didn’t disagree with that assessment, it was always better to exterminate these fraggers before they got too large… but Firewatch resources were stretched in Seattle at the moment with no possibility of back-up and he didn’t intend to put the nine of them into a bug nest alone with nobody to watch their flank!

So here they were…the shadowrunners filing in to the room in a haphazard fashion.  He gestured for them to take the seats provided and began his pitch.

“Thank you for joining us.  I am Captain Dern, Firewatch.  As your respective fixers will no doubt have made you aware this is a bug hunt… I am assuming that as you are here that is not a problem.  We have identified what is believed to be a small beetle nest under the Anarchy nightclub, East Third Street on the Middle Waterway in Tacoma…”

And so the briefing continued…

***

“Right, let me introduce you to the rest of my team…Grace is on comms” an attractive black orc with bright chrome jacks on her temples, “Coates is our mage” an unremarkable looking male human with pale dead looking eyes, “Parker is transportation and drone support” a younger man who looks fired up with energy and the itch to shoot stuff, “Fraser is our principal medic” an elf, greying at the temples with an aura of wisdom, “Gardner is our secondary” another young looking human, she watches the runners with intensity, “Rose is primary fire support” a burly orc with a matte black cyber arm that looks like it costs more than the runners make in a year, “Fitz is our tech specialist” a wiry human male with glasses perched on his nose “and Lowe and Brown are weapons and tactics.” Two almost carbon copy samurai, although one is an orc and the other human, both crew cut and professional…totally alert and scanning the runners for the slightest threat…

“The usual sniper support has been re-tasked elsewhere as they are likely to be of limited use here.  If this escalates to a surface confrontation we’ve failed.  Our mission is to contain and neutralise!”

***

“Any questions…?” he concluded

***

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Jack_Spade

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« Reply #1 on: <11-14-16/0859:15> »
Kynos had known this wasn't the brightest idea, but Ryan had insisted that this job had the right mix of high payout, gross violence and was in general only something a fearless professional like Kynos could handle.
Kynos knew all to well that "fearless professional" could also be substituted with "sucicidal idiot". But he had to admit that the first two arguments were good enough to get him to agree to the meeting.

When the captain had ended his pitch, Kynos showed him a humorless grin beneath his cold, dead eyes. Shifting slightly so that this long, thin frame found a more comfortable, if slouching position, he asked:
"Several actually:
1) Where is the target exactly? Is there any reason not to flood the underground with neo-nicotenoids and just poison those bastards and everything else that happens to live there? I mean, there are more than enough nightclubs in Seattle. Surely no-one's gonna miss that one.
2) How is this organized: Are we to tag along, scout ahead or provide back up for your boyscouts here? I'm happy either way, but it might limit my use of the grenade launcher... probably.
3) Is there drone support on site? As far as my experiences go, spirits have problems discerning liveless automatons. So if you set up surveilance beforehand that might turn this from a horror movie into a sports event.
4) Have you guys prepared an exit strategy should things go sideways? I mean beyond the usual running away faster than the others and screaming, "Oh my god, oh my god, we are going to die"."



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Mercy Merchant

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« Reply #2 on: <11-14-16/0945:40> »
When Steel had ducked to walk into the room he had noted without passion that the briefer had not been informed that they had a Troll coming, something made obvious by the lack of properly sized seating.  Used to such unintentional oversights by now, he sits on the floor, assuming a meditative position he uses to calm himself before a mission.  Holding his palms up, he silently recites his verbal mantras and waits for any others to show up.  After the briefing, he listens to the Elf make his points and waits patiently for the answers.  To him, the man's questions seem to indicate a lack of calm and purity of purpose, but then not everyone has the benefit of an understanding of the zen techniques to bring calm to a troubled soul.



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« Last Edit: <11-14-16/1133:10> by Mercy Merchant »
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« Reply #3 on: <11-14-16/1739:33> »
Vish had spent most of the morning meditating.  Meditation is good for the soul.  More importantly just then, mediation is also good for blocking out the absence of breakfast.   Whatever the reasons for meditating, it was still annoying to have his commlink disturb his trance.  He thought briefly about ignoring the intrusion of the outside world, but that ringtone was assigned to Sanith, who of all the people in the world deserved his time.

Also, of all the people in the world was most apt to offer him breakfast.

It would have been comforting to speak the language of the old country, but they both knew it was best to adopt the bastardized English of this place.  And so it was that Vish was greeted with “Chummer, through the vine of grapes I’ve heard of an employment for which you may be fragging suited.”

OK, maybe Sanith was still struggling with local fluency.  Ignoring that, Vish jumped at the important part “Something calling for suitableness and cunning, minimal risk of violence, high payout?  In recognition of our talent, the Johnson will meet the team as a high end restaurant downtown where he will pay for our meal?”

“It is a hunting of the bug spirits, meet is at an office in an industrial part of Tacoma, corporate rates.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As Vish listened to the pitch from the Ares commander, he kept reflecting back on that call.  That he’d been offered this job couldn’t be because anybody thought he was the best bug fighter available, it had to be because every other half-talented mage had run away from the job.  He’d wanted to as well, but even standard corporate rates would make a difference in his life right now, and at least in fighting bugs he could assure the small part of his spirit which still cared about such things that he was earning good karma.

And so it was that he glared at the cybered-up elf who seemed to be trying to talk them out of a job.  The questions were all good ones, but at the same time, Vish had come this far and he didn’t really want to walk away without getting paid.  Still, best not to get in the way of getting those important answers, so he found his inner stillness and waited for the outcome.

e1 / pp3

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« Reply #4 on: <11-14-16/1851:53> »
With each question the bulked-up elf asked, Captain Dern held up a hand and raised one finger. Index, middle, ring, pinky. Then he started lowering the fingers again, in reverse order, as he answered each one.

Pinky: “There is no modern subterranean infrastructure on the Middle Waterway. But these are beetles. Their lair may be burrowed fresh, or may leverage nineteenth century infrastructure for which records have been lost. In either case, we don’t know the layout. We took in GPR, but whatever they’ve done down there is too deep for an accurate read - all we could verify was the existence of extensive works. So we don’t have a pre-planned alternative exit. That said, Fitz will be leaving a nice little trail of Semtex breadcrumbs behind us, which will effectively screen any tactical withdrawal.”

That woke the little guy up. Easily the smallest person in the room - by weight even more diminutive than the chocolate-skinned dwarf - his chair was leaning at a dangerous angle against the rearmost wall. He’d dozed through Dern’s opening statements, cigarette wedged between the fingers of one hideously scarred hand threatening to burn down to his knuckles if it didn’t fall to the floor first. But talk of explosives always found its way into his ears, bringing a light to his eyes. If such a thing was possible with cybernetic replacements.

Ring: “Parker will be handling the drone network. And while I’m sure your own wisdom and experience is greater than all ours together, we do kill bugs for a living and are fully aware of their weaknesses. Specifics of our remote array, however, like much of our SOP, are strictly proprietary.”

Talk of high explosives over, the unshaven little man tried to go back to sleep. His appearance was not unlike that of a junkie. Sunken eyes - one of them purplish-black and grotesquely swollen. A sallow, yellowish complexion that almost matched his tobacco-stained nails and teeth. A grotesquely emaciated frame that threatened to disappear into the ancient brown leather bomber jacket that was clearly too big for him. He was tired, not fully recovered from the previous night at The Poop Deck. Thing was, the troll hadn’t known about the little guy’s internal air tank. But the other thing was, the little guy hadn’t known the lateral valve was stuck again. But by the time he found out, his face was in the tub, two weeks pay was on the table, and he had the trog’s time of six minutes thirty-seven to beat. Piece of cake a decade earlier, but it wasn’t a decade earlier, and things had started to blacken around the edges of his vision. He’d started to wonder if you could get at the oxygen in the water if you maybe sucked in just a teeny tiny bit and sort of rubbed it really hard between your tongue and the roof of your mouth. It did occur that he could get all the air he wanted just by lifting his head out of the water, but that dog wouldn’t hunt. So he'd been working on telekinetically fixing his internal air feed - he didn’t know if he actually had telekinetic powers, but he’d never definitively ruled it out, and now seemed like a good time to give it a shot - when everything had gone black.

He’d opened his eyes to a glaring constellation of LED drop lights. He’d never seen them all on before - they usually kept things pretty dark there in The Deck - but when a wet mop butted against one of his Doc Marten’s on its way past, he’d realized it must be morning. Everything had hurt like a royal son of a bitch. And still did.

“They worked you over good, Al. There’s coffee here if you can get up.”

“Make it a beer an’ might be worth the effort.”

“Whatever.”

He’d dragged himself up and over to the bar, where Gladys popped a Grolsch for him. She was forty-five going on sixty and had more make-up on than than a Ringling Brothers clown.

“They worked you over good Al.”

“Yeah, but did I win?”

“Sure, you won. Kept your head in that tub till you went limp. Then Ace, he called time. They contemplated whether to pull you out for a while, and they decided they would after Ace hollered at them some. Hell, they even paid you, shoved the scrip right in your pocket. Laughed while they did it. I guess they’d already decided what was coming next. The beat on you for a while until they got bored, then took their money back. Then yours. Then your ‘link, your knife, even your smokes. They even tried to get that mouldy jacket, but lordy lordy bless, that’s when you started sleep-fighting. Never seen anything like it. Out like a light but rolled into a ball and kicking and scratching. They gave up then and left.”

“Well, hell’s bells, ya got that big feller on the door…din’t he see fit ta do nothin’ on ol’ Al’s behalf?”

“The guy on the door? You mean the one named Evan that you always call Tusker Trog Tom?”

“Awww…din’t mean nothin’ by it….”

Middle: “The role of the local contractors is two-fold. First, secure the entry point in as unobtrusive a manner as possible. It is a busy public place. We need to know our exfil point is uncompromised by hostiles while at the same time not alarming the patrons. Alerting the populace to the presence of bugs in their midst is always contraindicated. You’ll maintain a non-descript presence in the club. This will put you in position for your second role, which is to act as a reserve force. Should opposition below exceed expectations, you’ll be called in to assist. And, as a side note, you’ll be on our secondary tac-net and all use of heavy ordnance must be pre-approved by myself or Gardner.”

Damn, the little guy thought, this is gonna be one loud party. Well, they certainly had ticked all their diversity boxes - the good guys were about half skirts and had both of the regular-sized types of point-ears. And the bad guys they’d lumped him in with, well, not a round-ear among ‘em, and they’d pulled not only the dark little halfer but the righteous-big ingentis sitting over there on the floor. Hell, he thought, damn if we don’t look jist like America.

Honestly, if he’d known it would be this sort of rainbow coalition, he might have said no. Like he’d done in the first place.

“Woman, I got a double-shift with Hun’s crew tonight. That’s real OT, honey.”

“Al, you’ll make in one night more than in six-months on that forklift.”

“Silk, baby, ol’ Al’s head is not turned by filthy lucre. Shadowrunners? Delusional wannabes an’ pedophiles all of ‘em. I’ll take an honest day’s work if I can git it. An’ I can.”

“But I haven’t told you what the job is.”

“An’ I don’t care. I got a job.”

“You like Mission: Firewatch, don’t you?”

“Same as you like all them badass-lookin’ designer duds.”

“Well, this is work for a real-life Ares Firewatch team.”

“……..They gon’ kill bugs?”

“That’s what they do.”

“Shit woman, ol’ Al’s tangled with jist ‘bout ever’ type o’ demon an’ abomination on this benighted orb, but never had me a crack at the six-legged sort. But I’m a Thespian. What they need me for?”

“They need someone that knows the Sea-Tac docks. I told them there was no one better than you.”

“Well, that’s true enough.”

Index: “Use of insecticides and catastrophic munitions has been ruled out. The reasons you might understand are political. This is Seattle, not Detroit. Sensibilities here are different. There are environmental concerns for the local government, and of course PR issues for Ares. The more important reason, one which apparently does not concern you much is that we are Ares Macrotechnology. We are not Mitsuhama. We are not Aztechnology. We are Ares and we are Firewatch, and while the rest of the world cascades down morality’s slippery slopes, we will always be there to pull it from the brink.”

As one, the other Firewatch troopers grunted a spirited boo-rah!

And for his part, the little guy nearly fainted. He’d seen this moment a hundred times on the trid, whenever some short-sighted middle manager had tried to compromise their mission with cost cuts or promotional considerations, and was always put in his place with this very same speech. it was a bit like glimpsing deity.

“Boo-rah!” he echoed, the frog-like croak earning scornful looks from the others and the attention of Captain Dern. “You, you’re the guide, right? What do you know about this Anarchy place?”

“Alouicious Harlan Guthrie, esquire, at yer service, Cap’n. Northwest corner o’ East Third an’ E F Street, as yer honor knows. Reckon yer right ta hold off on the heavy stuff - that Nu Star Energy outfit ta the west an’ north, them tanks’re filled ta the brim with  black market gasoline. Place’s a front ta move the stuff fer the Vors. An’ they safety protocols ain’t exactly up ta spec. Inside ya got yer typical pack o’ hippies an’ degenerates - it ain’t a dockworker hang-out. Attracts hipsters an’ so forth, think they’s cool slummin’ it with the workin’ folks. Some mighty colorful characters in there though. Some real damned individuals. In there last month, saw this one feller whose mouth worked sideways…an’ place ain’t none too clean. Roaches ever’where, an’ one time I stepped on one an’ you’d thing I’d spat on the Pope. Damned bunch o’ vegan free-lover-tree-lovers, ya ask ol’ Al.”

gilga

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« Reply #5 on: <11-15-16/0021:22> »
A young professor introduced david, to a classroom filled with students in Washington's university.

Alright students - David will share his experiences with binding spirits, he is a practitioner not an an academic so the terms may not be exact but it is a real opportunity to meet an establish conjurer be polite.

So you guys want to bind spirits? David said and walked the room, gathering his thoughts - That is useful - but not half as fun of letting spirits bind you. Relationships are two way streets - get it in that big head of yours.


Yesterday, I was laying in my bed, tucked in with two gorgeous elf spirits - let's call them Monica and Tiffany. So we were studying right? Darn right we were - we studied several times that night.


The laughter in the class begun to ignite the chaos and the professor already started regretting inviting David to that guest lecture.

"Please david - no explicit description is there a moral to this story?"

David replied - "You tell me after you hear the end of it."

He continued.
 
"So, I was studying with these two beautiful spirits, first I took off my shirt then the pants, my underwear and finally my own meat body. We were there hanging out in the astral as naked as an awakened can possibly be.


Monika and Tiffany bound me and then brushed up all arrogance out of me, explaining what control really was. You see, astral studying is and always will be the real deal - any pleasure that your human body can give can be amplified in a world of emotions.


but I am not here to teach you about astral studying. Conjure your own Tiffany and Monika for that...
(class laughs)  David continues Looking at the anxious professor David continues " There is a moral I promise... let me continue."

To the class:
So there I was having the time of my life with two sweethearts pleasuring me, what could possibly go wrong right? I was living the dream.

He paused and continued.

 "... but after four hours the pleasure became horror.  I NEEDED to get back to my body - there is so much I could take - but the sweethearts just did not let me go. They kept using my services, they could not get enough of them."
 
Pausing David added "So what is the moral of my little story?"

A young girl interrupted "Stick to metahumans for sex and use spirits professionally?"

David shrugged "No, no you got it all wrong... You use a pen, you do not use spirits seriously this is offensive. " Frustrated he said

"the moral of our story is that even if you are gorgeous as Tiffany and Monika, and even if your spirit is enjoying itself like I was with them... Your spirit still needs to get home at the end of the day. If it grows restless - let it go."



(Had to go to work - I'll bring David to the meeting in my next post sorry.)
« Last Edit: <11-15-16/0108:33> by gilga »

Jack_Spade

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« Reply #6 on: <11-15-16/0550:16> »
Kynos gave a sardonic grin as the captain and his team intoned the Firewatch motto.
"Good, good, I see you have that all under control.
And I won't even mention the rumors that Ares itself now has a bug problem in its leadership structure and that as a consequence of that Firewatch had to endure some serious budget cuts. I mean that must be obviously false. Otherwise they would be forced to hire auxiliaries from the shadows to supplement their ranks.
So I'm really glad you all are still here to defend the good citizens of Seattle and do it while keeping all morals intact.

That said: Securing the club would be a lot easier if we could get it to close early for an unrelated reason. For example a defect with the toilets and a severe flooding with "black water".
And don't think for a second I missed the implication about beetles: Those fuckers are seriously armored. Anything less than APDS will bounce right off. Politics be damned, forgoing insecticides is suicide. We should at the very least have those as a back-up with the semtex. After all, it's better to be judged by one than carried by six."


The tall elf paused to take a look at his non-Firewatch companions: "What I mean to say is of course: Yes sir, we'll present ourselves exactly as specified by your regulations that are in no way compromised by anyone higher up the chain.
Or what do you say, my fellow contractors in arms?"


Despite his harsh words, Kynos thoroughly enjoyed himself. It had been a long time since he worked in a military operation structure and it felt a bit like coming home. Even if the home had been built by the cheapest contractor, lacked some essential utilities and was really inconveniently built .


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Revenant Kynos Isaint Rex

adamu

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« Reply #7 on: <11-15-16/0625:50> »
Al chuckled to himself at the insolent keeb's naive remarks. Bugs at the top in Ares? That was right up there with the old Aztechnology human sacrifice smear, or the urban legend about the good folks over at MCT being mixed up with the yaks. Still, he did notice the furtive looks some of the troopers gave each other when the Spock repeated the crazy rumour.

He was more interested, however, in all this talk about bug poison. He'd meant to get his internal air system fixed before showing up for this job, but he'd been too busy sleeping, waking only occasionally to smoke. So he was very interested in hearing Captain Dern's response. And whether he'd fire the know-it-all dandelion-muncher on the spot....

Aria

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« Reply #8 on: <11-15-16/0839:44> »
[Wednesday March 6th, 2075; Staging Post Alpha7, Briefing Room, Tacoma, Seattle]

Dern frowned at Kynos, clearly not liking the challenge to his authority

“Small scale insecticides delivered locally is quite acceptable, just don’t expect us to gas a nightclub full of Citizens just to make your life easier!  You’ve all brought your own equipment but I have authorisation to provide you with a limited amount of additional gear to integrate you with my team.  Needless to say you will keep the items out of sight while you are on your primary position.  Liaise with Sergeant Rose and he will organise that side of things.

If the nightclub has to be closed it had better be damn convincing.  They may be bugs but they have an uncanny ability to sense when something is amiss and I don’t want to be walking in to a hive on high alert.  Once the shooting starts will be soon enough for the shit to hit the fan.

Right, anything else?”

***

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« Reply #9 on: <11-15-16/1110:04> »
Vish reminded himself that these were not the same soldiers that had assaulted his monastery.  Even so, he was conscious that he was not inclined to like these people.  That they were valiant warriors, willing to put their lives on the line to fight evil spirits, should raise them in his esteem -- but it was hard not to see them as people who would receive orders, call out ‘booya’, then apply that same ruthless violence to whoever they were aimed at.

Which raised a good point, actually.  “If I might, I would like to ask for a small clarification.  I think our role would perhaps be dual?  On the one hand to make sure that the exit point is open and secure for the team here.” He gave a nod to the professional killers who were wearing uniforms.  “And on the other hand to be a layer of insulation between the civilians and the horrors and violence below – that is, obviously nobody wants the bugs getting out, but also nobody want the fight spilling out into a populated club and neighbourhood, where issues with civilians might reduce the team’s performance.”  It seemed better to focus on the impact on the Firewatch team rather than on the massive casualties that could occur.

“That would be as opposed to our second role being to also take a secondary part in the hunt down below?  Or as opposed to us being the reserves to be called in where, when, and as needed in the primary fight?”

From the expressions on some of the Firewatch team members, relying on the runners in close quarters was not an appealing prospect, but the men waited for their officer to answer.

Vish used that delay to slide in one more point.  “I also wonder, is making sure that there are no bugs already in the club a third aspect of our expected role?  Or will that have been taken care of already?  If they are aware of the club as the gateway for intruders, it would seem reasonable that they’d have sentries and maybe sabotage units there, either lurking in hidden places or infiltrated into the staff.  We are not staffed to fight a two front battle, I think.”

"Understanding our role may well save lives and help make this expedition a success, so I ask in part for the good of my soul.  But of course, understanding our role may also help us to understand the full responsibilities we'll be undertaking, so I ask in part so that we can understand the appropriate rewards of the more mundane kind."

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« Reply #10 on: <11-15-16/1251:28> »
The captain needed a moment to parse that complicated sentence before he replied:
"Scouting out the target will of course be the first thing we do - hidden sentries must be identified beforehand. That part is all our mages responsibility.

But I have to emphasize: The opening of this operation relies on stealth and subterfuge and consequently on keeping our two groups separate. Once we engage the enemy your objective is to stop any bugs going into the tunnels who could attack our rear and also to stop any bugs getting out that might cause carnage among the civilians.
Only if things go completely off the rails you will be called to go underground to help the Alpha Team to with their retreat.

We'll be in permanent contact and your orders will be updated in case the situation chances - which it invariable does. 

And your pay is the standard contractor rate for military auxiliaries + the usual hazard pay in case you are requested to go underground."
talk think matrix

To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield
Revenant Kynos Isaint Rex

Mercy Merchant

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« Reply #11 on: <11-15-16/1346:00> »
The huge Troll opens his eyes and looks around.  "The reward of doing good should be enough.  If your spirit is at peace, it will provide all that is necessary for you to survive.  Extravagance is not a virtue.  Protecting people from the spiritual menace that is the bugs will bring you karma that will turn into rewards and riches.  For some of us, that may be monetary wealth, but for others. that could just as easily be a peaceful night's rest, knowing that we have done good works.  I urge you to give some consideration to your soul as you may find that this is the last day your physical body is connected to it."

"As to the plan, Captain, where do you see me fitting in?  I am told that I am a bit obvious and can stick out in a crowd.  This may have an impact on your plan to remain unobtrusive until needed.  I am unfamiliar with this club but do know that some have restrictions against my kind.  Also, I will be armed with two swords, so is there a manner of hiding them until needed?"
"Speech"  *Thought*  <Matrix>

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« Reply #12 on: <11-15-16/1356:38> »
The conversation having once again grown tedious, Al's eyes had neared shutting again. It took him a moment to realize that the Captain had looked a question to him. Reminding himself that he was theoretically at work right now, he rewound the last few moments of conversation in his memory and answered. "Trogs is arms-wide welcome. Makes all the college kids feel good 'bout theyselves. Swords, nope, not so much. Same fer big guns, natch."
« Last Edit: <11-15-16/1709:44> by adamu »

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« Reply #13 on: <11-15-16/1403:54> »
Kynos replied to the good deeds speech with a snort: "Ha, good one. But joke's on you. I'm pretty sure they removed my soul during the last operation to fit another striking callus in. But if you want to do some good, I'm totally open to take care of your share of the filthy lucre. Dog knows, bullets are expensive."


If the captain had rolled his eyes any harder at Kynos' bantering they might have popped from his skull. Instead he chose to ignore the mercenary and answered the troll:
"Leaving the spirituality aside: Getting your gear and weapons in will be part of your mission. This is not Fort Knox, so a backdoor access or even just a handover through a toilet window should be enough to deal with that problem.
About racism: This is a diverse Nightclub, race should be no object."


Kynos couldn't resist to add: "Yeah, that's one of the good sides of the bugs: They aren't racist, they find us all equally delicious."

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« Reply #14 on: <11-15-16/1429:24> »
The professor said "David - that was an interesting lecture I do not think we will be calling you again. Your methods are a bit unorthodox for us."

The man answered coldly "Yes and you said you wanted to help - I said studying, gosh they understood what they wanted to help me get well. I will be alright, I forgot your name already."

With that David entered his van and drove away, it was then that he saw a message about  a meetup - he must have missed it with all the pressure of preparing his lecture - a paying job. His shrink said to avoid these - that they are just going to make him worse - but David needed the money and his day job seemed over so he accepted, arriving late to the meeting.

Before David entered he donned his white emotionless mask, "It is not me - doing these things it is ICE" he justified his disobedient behavior.

"I am sorry to be late, please do not ask me why, I was late as I do not like to lie."

"I am ICE, I am good with guns and I bring two beautiful spirits - they would not say their names due to mystical limitations so we agreed that I can call them Tiffany and Monica." He said and his two elf like spirits manifested next to him.  ICE called all his spirits Tiffany and Monica - it is not that they were all the same he just did not knew their names and they did not claim to know each other. Using the same name over and over again gave him an illusion of social life.

ICE looked around judging the people aound him and nodding politely - as polite as he could given the fact that his face was covered - but they did not want the sensitive PTSD David Williams - they wanted ICE the cold blooded assassin/driver/conjurer thief and whatever he needed to be.