Futuristic [Argon City] - Open World Cyberpunk RP - Always Open

[Pandaskel]

[ARGON CITY]

︺《 ╿ ⊡ ∵ ↭ - ↭ ∵ ⊡ ╿ 》︺​

WELCOME TO ARGON CITY, WHERE THE WORLD IS YOURS AND YOU CAN BE WHOEVER YOU CHOOSE. WE HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY.

CITY INFORMATION AND HISTORY, A DIRECTORY OF DENIZENS, AND A SOCIAL NEXUS CAN ALL BE FOUND AT THE TOP OF THIS PAGE.

LAWS:
-Submit to RPN rules.
-Refrain from displaying content of an egregious violent, sexual, or otherwise inappropriate nature.
-Being educated on the city and its inhabitants is recommended but not required.
-Apply for residency in the aforementioned directory found above at any time.

TAGS:
Radio_Rat66.6
Shindoku
TARDIS06
Noble Scion
CheesyKnives
missmisery
cran
Tiramiisu
Boi69
Sylvio

coded by [color=white]@DeerPrince[/color]

︺《 ╿ ⊡ ∵ ↭ - ↭ ∵ ⊡ ╿ 》︺​

 

[Shindoku]

Ringmaster chuckles and laughs to himself as he runs from the police, ducking in and out of alleyways in the underground, this was the only way he felt alive, when his life was on the line, he rides one of his many hover bikes, this one colored a bright green "Come now boys, surely this isn't all you can give me" he turns and fires a single shot from his cane, landing it in cockpit of the police cruiser taking out the driver, with how close they were to the ground there was no time for his partner to take over.

They crash hard, the other officer survived and sees Ringmaster land near the cruiser walking over to the wreck laughing hard "Did you really think that you could take me without backup, too bad", Ringmaster points his cane at the surviving officer and pulls the trigger.

He looks to the gathering crowd and gives a bow and laughs "Give a round of applause for the great performance we have just witnessed folks" he then gets on his bike and disappears into the city

 

[Radio_Rat66.6]

Aella set up her android for the day. She pushed herself over to it in her wheelie desk chair. She looked into the chest cavity, checking for anything faulty. She tightened a lose bolt before closing the door, humming to herself as she went. She lightly patted the android's abdomen before pushing herself back over to her desk. She threw on her headset and looked over at the android.
"Testing testing."
She smiled when the robot repeated in her voice, clear as day. She turned around and set up her controls. She checked the response time and finally sent her android out. She threw on her goggles and let herself become immersed in what she could no longer enjoy herself. She walked down the street, just towards the store for more groceries. She had been running low as of recent. She waved to a little boy playing off in the park across the street. As she was walking Binxie jumped up in her lap. It startled her for a moment before she realized it was just her cat. She pet him before returning to her controls and down the street.​

 

[Viper Actual]

Bright neon signs filled the alleyway with a dim pink and purple hue. Raindrops pouring down through the ramshackle air-conditioning units, windows and balconies looked like pink sparks as they fell to the ground. Muttering and hushed voices could be heard from the many tents, cardboard boxes and other improvized homes lining the walls.
Rodents hunted for scraps as the homeless and unfortunate of Argon City warmed their hands over a burning barrel or tried to get some good sleep on the hard bedding which the metal and concrete flooring provided.

Suddenly a radio could be heard.

"Negotiator attempting defuse. Be advised, suspect is armed and dangerous. Awaiting tactical team."

Faces turned towards the street but quickly ducked for cover just as quick as they had turned. Ten armored and heavily armed figures walked through the alley at a brisk pace. Grey woven cloaks concealed parts of the composite armor and underlying exoskeleton while holographic displays on the shoulders and visors of the figures repeated the phrases "REMAIN CALM" and "POLICE ASSAULT IN PROGRESS" over and over in a thick subdued blue font.

Rodents and hobos alike scattered for cover as the figures went deeper into the alleyway. Infrared flashlights made the area look as bright and warm as a sunny day for the officers while it remained dark and unwelcoming for everone else.
After scanning along the walls the officers found what they were looking for: a rusty old fire escape leading all the way up to the 14th floor. With haste the officers ascended, weapons raised.

Upstairs a man screamed at the reinforced apartment door infront of him. In his right hand was a worn semi-automatic pistol. In his left a woman struggling to survive. Outside the door stood an ACPD negotiator, a SWAT-team and a pair of paramedics all fitted into the cramped stairwell.

The time was up. Marcus Bishop slowly opened the window leading out onto the fire escape. The cloth of his woven cloak clung to his armor and dripped with water. One by one pairs of armored feet entered the apartment. The man continued to yell. He was beginning to back up into the kitchen. Everyone but Marcus made themselves invisible. Hidden behind furniture, walls and corners. Weapons at the ready.

Marcus entered the kitchen through the living room. The gunman's entire right side was exposed to him.

"Police! Drop your weapon!" Yelled Marcus.

The gunman widened his eyes as he registered the voice coming from his right. As he spun around, weapon raised, his eyes widened even more. His mouth opened and he was about to say all kind of things you don't say with a gun aimed at an officer of the law. There was a quick flash. He never stood a chance. Impossible to see with the naked eye was a projectile. High-velocity smart round.

Before the gunman had even said the first letter of his sentence his body fell limp and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The projectile had detonated itself inside the brain. It was a clean kill. The body hadn't even touched the ground when Marcus was upon him. He kicked away the gun. Rolled him onto his front and cuffed his hands on his back. While all of this was happening two of Marcus's officers had grabbed the hostage- a young woman in her twenties- used their bodies as human shields and rushed her towards the front door which was now unleashing the ACPD SWAT-team followed by the paramedics.

Marcus did a thumbs up and one by one his team reported in.

"All clear. Suspect neutralized and the hostage has been secured. Good work."

 

[archur]

"God, I hate this stuff." Victoria hissed to herself, tossing away a 'highly efficient protein mixture for ops on the field for extended periods of time.' Otherwise known as underdweller's back scrapings. High in fiber and calcium, and not much else. She shrugged her coat on a little tighter, the neon lights that shone and flickered in the bustling streets below a backdrop to her most recent target. Some sort of director for... Syntech? Whatever. Her target flaunted about his white and red suit, the floor to ceiling windows making the observation and shot way too easy. Is this some sort of game?

She shifted on her stomach again, watching the head of her target bob up and down. Talking, drinking, having a good time. He and a group of others simultaneously took a drag out of a big cigar, and blew it into each other's faces, a huge billowing tower of smoke rising to the ceiling. Success, but for whatever the hell it was, she didn't care. She just had a job to finish, and that's what she was going to do.

She brought her right eye to the scope, and her left eye closed. Breath in, breath out. Her body erupted in blue and black dots as her vision expanded. Vehicles that defied the laws of gravity leisurely soared above her head, not even pausing to guess what the strange shadow beneath them might be doing. One particular eye on the back of her hand blinked over and over again, the dust from the roof blown into it from the slight breeze.

A woman, no, a girl. A young girl in fact, was brought into the suite, scantily dressed, with big blue eyes that darted to the corners of the room, trying to find any route of escape. She was dressed like a rabbit, and she sure as hell was thinking like one too. "Fuckin'-" She watched as the suits introduced her to a small, flat chip of some sort, held in a device that seemed to be specifically made for one purpose, and with the extra prongs and saws that were affixed to the end, it wasn't that hard to guess. Her target drunkenly giggled as the technician passed the device to him, and angrily ushered the rest of his posse out of the room. They scurried out, limping, running into chairs and tables, before the man slammed the door behind him. He pressed a button on his device, and her shock collar went off, pinning her to the floor, writhing in agony.

He planted a knee on her back, lifted away the frayed hair from the back of her neck, cackling as if he were some sort of b-movie villain over his helpless victim. Victoria only caught the girl's teary eyes for a moment, before she forced them shut.

Crack.

A delay, then he slumped to the floor. One could trace the line from Victoria, to the window, to the man's cranium, to the dining room table now covered in gore. The woman opened her eyes to see a dead man still straddling her waist, and tilted her head to see the building across the way, but nobody was there. She darted out the room, fleeing to any sanctum she could find.

"Alright Reese, the rest are all yours. Meet you inside." She grinned as she leapt off the side of the building to her waiting hoverbike, dashing across the street to mop up the rest of the targets.

Tiramiisu

 

[TARDIS06]

A quiet thud echoed across the laboratory as a dropped air vent cover was muffled by a purposefully placed rug. Stashed away in Mitchell’s backpack was an experimental processor designed for a new line of security drones. He knew it would never work, the input alone would fry the thing, but the idea was quite marketable at least. *Ahchoo* The dust in these forsaken air vents, and here he thought that a rich corporation would actually pay for decent cleaning.

Popping out on the roof, Mitchell skeptically looked around before using his black bandana to cover his mouth. He knew he set off a silent alarm at one point, accidentally broke some glass on the way in, though the current lack of both ACPD and security personnel was off putting. Taking a gentle step forward, he stopped before he even had his foot completely down. A bright spotlight cast over the duct Mitchell was half way out of, nearly outshining the surrounding neon lights that shimmered in the overcast sky. Now comes the interesting part.

The ACPD patrol car hovered in the sky for a few more moments before landing a good twenty feet from Mitchell, scattering miscellaneous debris before eventually turning off the blinding light and revealing the black and silver design it sported. Relieving his foot of the pain from contorting it around the bend of the vent Mitchell gently brung it down while keeping his hands in the air, as per the quite rude instructions of the two officers that stepped out of the vehicle. He waited for them to get a bit closer, and also hoped they weren’t on the job with any major implants in their hands. If they did, it was going to get a lot more messy.

Trying to keep it out of the officer’s focus, Mitchell began to stomp his shoes against the roof as a distraction while he simultaneously pressed two small buttons that were embedded within his raised hood. Immediately a nearly imperceptible emp was focused at the two officers, specifically towards their standard electronic sidearms that were currently trained on him. The wave began to give off a slight blue light as it flew forwards, causing the fire arms to overload upon impact. Sparks flew onto the collections of rain water on the roof while the officers yelped in pain as electric feedback shot up their thankfully implant free hands. Mitchell was then instantaneously running, jumping, and sliding through the maze of pipes that littered the roof. Looking back every second or two to smile as his pursuers stumbled amongst the mess of metal. Turning around one last time before he reached the edge of the roof, Mitchell laughed to himself as he shouted at the officers: “You guys really are bad at you jo- aaaaaaahhhh!” Apparently he was closer to the edge than he thought.

Windows and lights whizzed passed Mitchell as he fell, his hair whipping across his face as it kept colliding with air. The combination of metal and brickwork created a mesmerizing effect during the fall. Soon he found himself bouncing off of an AC unit and landing hard on a fire escape with a loud clang. The bottom of it then gave out and Mitchell collapsed onto the alleyway concrete, surrounded by trash bags with the wind knocked out of him. He didn’t know which hurt worst: the probable concussion, or the ruined punchline.

Staring up at the top of the buildings, he watched as the two officers rashly jumped over the gap to follow their now invisible convict across the many rooftops of Argon for the foreseeable future. Mitchell smiled sardonically as he pulled down his bandana that covered his mouth, completely forgetting about his now newly broken experimental processor.

 

[Viper Actual]

Marcus grimaced and placed the datapad on the desk infront of him. He looked up from the gruesome pictures which showed the latest ACPD killings at the hands of the ever-elusive Ringmaster.
"Seventh one this year?"

The man infront of him shook his head. "Eight," he replied. Captain Tex Davis of the ACPD's Investigation Unit sighed and leaned in. "You know that normally I have zero jurisdiction over but in this case, well, I was kinda hoping you'd help out. We're friends after all."

Marcus nodded. Both statements were true. Usually Taskforce Taurus operated on its own and when it did choose to work alongside other units of the ACPD it was out of its own free will. Then again Tex had been a friend of his ever since he became a police officer. They had been partners for nearly nine years as well before both of them went their separate paths.

"You can count on us, Tex. We'll bring this madman down once and for all."

Tex smiled faintly. "It's a deal then." His hands moved to another datapad which he offered to Marcus. "Here's the few things we do have on him. He's all about the adrenaline. Loves to have an audience too, even going as far to ask for them to applaud his 'performance'. We also have solid intel that he may be involved with some of the larger crime syndicates."

Marcus skimmed through the dossier. Real name unknown. Age unknown. Face unknown. Proficient with both firearms and melee weapons. Suspect is equipped with somekind of electromagnetic jamming device which disables cameras as he looks at them. Suspect also has a proficiency for stealing vehicles or, alternatively, has a large private motor pool to pull from.
Investigators theorized he had some form of military training. Special forces maybe? Alternatively he'd have that knowledge uploaded directly into his brain. Then there were the suspected criminal ties. Some of his supected allies had even turned up dead. Conflict of interests?

Marcus shook his head. "So he's an anonymous and armed psychopath with suspected ties to some of the worst criminals organizations around the city. This'll be rough." He looked at Tex and raised an eyebrow while holding up the datapad. "Is this all the intel you have?"

Tex took a sip from his coffee and nodded. "Everything. We got some undercover officers looking into the case as well but I think Taskforce Taurus has the best odds of actually pulling it off."

Marcus grunted in response. "Dead or alive?"

"Dead or alive," replied Tex.

---

Elsewhere...

---

Liz adjusted her headphones and the strap of her backpack as she casually walked down the street. She kept her eyes down but still had a fairly good look of her surroundings. She was at Midway- a section between the old lower levels of the city and the upper ones- which had originally just been a space in the construction design. Now it was home to a variety of business with some being legit and others being less legit.

Club Venus was a little bit of both. The club and bar itself was legit but the fight club and black market down in the basement were not. Still, it was one of her favorite places. Both on-duty and off-duty. A flashing siren made her look up. Two police cruisers raced past her on the road and made a sharp turn to the left farther down the street. She shrugged. Midway was getting more tense by the minute.

It had started a little over a year ago when a small element from the Gearjunkies had wandered into the area. They had moved into some abandoned production facility for canned food. At the same time the Crimson Legion had also begun to scout out the area for possible expansion. Word on the street was that both gangs wanted to turn Midway into their own paradise. Liz knew better. She and her colleagues had been mapping both gangs for a while now and while both of them had their little kingdoms at the lower levels it was clear that resources and space was becoming increasingly rare.

The chatter which the ACPD-GU had picked up indicated that they were both interested in brokering with the gangs of the upper levels and secure a pipeline of resources from there. Fortunately for the ACPD the two gangs had been too busy picking off eachother in Midway to make any arrangements with the other syndicates. The cost of this however was that innocent civilians were getting caught in the crossfire. Both crews had also started to abduct people from the area with the Gearjunkies chopping them up for spare parts while the Crimson Legion forcefully recruited new blood into their ranks.

It was a mess honestly and with the ACPD's resources already being strained as it is the pressure increased on Liz and the rest of the Gang Unit.

Eventually Liz reached Club Venus. It was three-story structure with decorative green and blue neon lights shaped into all kinds of geometric figures covering most of the exterior. Above the entrance was a pink hologram displaying a beautiful lady- the goddess of love herself. As the holographic Venus urged people to come inside and experience euphoria the bouncers at the front door sifted through the guests with military precision. People were searched, scanned and questioned. Fail one of the three tests and you had no choice but turn around lest have the bouncers beat you up.

A separate line were for VIPs and friends of the owner- Liz included. She walked through the VIP line and nodded towards the bouncer Mike. He grinned and gestured towards the door. "Have a pleasant evening miss Knight."
Liz smiled. "You too Mikey."

As she entered some of the club regulars nodded towards her. As did the bartenders and the security guards inside. Here she was not Elizabeth Bishop but Eliza Knight. She had established a reputation for herself as a fixer. Someone who could get shit done for the lack of better words. The owners of Venus owed her some favors. She had helped them out with various tasks. Recover stolen shipments of alcohol. Intimidate someone who stalked one of the waitresses. Track down potential clients for the underground businesses. The list goes on.

She went for the VIP section on the second floor. Jamal, the bartender, placed a whiskey on the counter right as she passed. "On the house." Liz shook her head and placed a Midon chip on the counter. "Not tonight."
Jamal nodded. Whenever Liz was pulling a job for the club she always tried to blend in as a customer and not as some big-shot who knew the owners.

Liz sat down at a small table which overlooked the first floor. She took a sip and began to work. One could think that helping Club Venus would conflict with her job at the ACPD but in reality it worked quite well. The owners of the club did their best to remain neutral. Yes, they had their hands in some shady deals but overall they were only looking to earn money on the side without the risk of ACPD SWAT kicking down their doors.

As long as Liz did her job and flagged notorious criminals either wanted by the law or known to be aggressive and impulsive the club could keep itself clean by cooperating with the authorities and as long as the officers were happy the owners and their clinets were happy as well.

Liz stopped. A man. Late thirties. Red tattoo on his face. Red Rudolph. He was wanted for a murder and shooting that had taken place at the upper levels two days ago. One of the ACPD officers responding to the scene had also been shot in the leg. Liz smirked and took another sip as she watched the man dance away all his problems.
She looked towards the bar and managed to get the attention of the security guard standing next to the counter. Carl. Liz did a gesture with her fingers and Cral nodded.

Minutes later Red Rudolph was being dragged out into one of the alleys. Carl and two other guards roughed him up. Then came the police officers, thanked the guards for doing their civic duty and aiding the capture of a wanted felon, yadda yadda.
Inside Liz continued to sip on her whiskey while looking for her next target...

 

[Noble Scion]

Erin Baretta, the name of a nobody, yet here she was sprinting through the streets with her heart racing as hard as it had the day she'd been infected with the mutation that simply refused her of the ability to stop producing adrenaline.

Her golden eyes were wide-open beneath the black-tinted glass that concealed the upper half of her face, while the segment of metal from which it was protruding out of concealed the rest, and in her hand was a metal briefcase containing something that, if she failed to deliver, would most likely get her killed. A small, yet expensive vial of a new pure synthetic drug that was supposedly revolutionary in the black market, and had she been anyone else not afflicted with this mutation that made her life hell, she would've sold it herself. Sadly, Erin was not the luckiest of folk. Not only had she been injected with something so life-changing at an early age, but she'd practically been pinned down into the very same gang that continued to monitor her, running such high-risk, low-reward errands for the simple price of living, which in her case, was much more expensive than most others.

She hadn't received the suppressant in two days, and already the side-effects of all the adrenaline were making life hell. Sure, she was fast, but her body was growing more frail by the second and her metabolism ate her alive, leaving her ribs slightly exposed and giving out an aesthetic of malnourishment, alongside the fidgets and twitches that had developed alongside them. Exhaustion was catching up on her and her heart felt like it was about to explode.

The door was in sight. Adorned with a small engraving that looked like nothing more than a stray bit of graffiti in the low-light alleyway in the centre of nowhere. The gang mark.

She barged through the door, only to be met with a kick so powerful that it knocked her straight back outside. That, combined with the momentum she had, sent her flying to the ground into a ball while the case was snatched from her hands without a shred of care for her pained hands that had been gripping the handle tight enough to cut off blood supply.

A moment later, a familiar vicious stab to the arm sent the agonizing burning pain through her body as the suppressant worked its magic, whilst a single paper note floated down next to her head.

Five words rang out to her before the metal door slammed shut. "Do it faster next time."

The collapsed woman ripped her mask off before struggling to the nearby wall for support before unceremoniously relieving her empty stomach of its contents via mouth as the pain of the kick combined with the stress of running. It always ached when they did that, and they knew it.

"Th..ose.. Fu..cks" Mrs. Baretta slurred, the combination of fatigue and agony making anything difficult, before stumbling over to the lone shrivel of currency and picked it up, pressing a button the mask to make the glass retract to fit in her pocket before she staggered out of the alleyway, a splitting headache making thinking difficult as both her legs and her chest screamed at her to just fall over and die already, which at this point, didn't seem like the worst option. She doubted she could fall any lower in society, or that anything short of a miracle could get her out of this pit of torture she'd had the luck of being pushed into. But a woman could hope.

Practically pulling herself out of the alleyway, her eyes were met with the sight of the police. Most of the time, they left her alone since she looked like nothing more than a junkie with a colour-changing cybernetic implant, especially down in the slums, and she hoped today was no different, not that a couple of days prison was bad, considering it put food on the table for her, but the problem was getting in there for anything shorter than a day or two. She'd tried staying in longer that once, the gang had made sure she didn't try dying that way again, they wouldn't let an asset die, even if they treated her like she was worthless. There were eyes everywhere, and she had no idea how to tell. The memory of getting taken out of prison only to be thrown into a abyssal empty room featuring such things as no light, no food and no water for four days without the suppressant had left her on the cusp of death as her own metabolism ate herself alive, aided by the adrenaline. So yeah, no prison.

She breathed in and out, slowly and methodically, to help cope with the pain as her head rested on her knees upon the vacant doorstep, unwilling tears trickling down her face in an attempt to keep the open eyes she'd forgotten to close wet as her dry lips were left gaping in air, struggling to give her brain enough oxygen to focus on something else as the pain in her ribs inhibited her breathing, each inhalation sending sparks down her nerves and making unconsciousness seeming most appealling. If only she lived in a fairy tale land, as she most certainly needed some prince, or at least, a break.

 

[Sylvio]

Heavy panting and darkness is all what was going on. A sense of loss and fear bestowed upon this one man. He felt his hands behind his back, tied to the back of a metal chair. He couldn't see anything as a burlap sack had covered his face. He felt the sack being snatched from his body. He found himself in a dark room. In front of him was a tall man in a long grey coat with a black shirt and slacks with dress shoes, it was J.C Hartley, an investigator for U-ICE. He was the only one in the room. "Don't know where you are? You're not supposed to." J.C said as he lit a cigarette. The man in the chair was young, he looked no older than 20. He was skimpy and weak. No wonder it was easy for the guys at security to catch him. "How'd I get here?"

"You were ambushed while driving on the intercity road to above ground. You were flashed before you could make it. Now you're here."

"Why am I here?"

"We found you in your car carrying a couple hundred pounds of untraceable illegally made cybernetic enhancements and augmentations. Clearly you were a mule, but for who?" J.C asked as he paced around the chair. "I can guarantee your safety, I can make sure that the police don't get to you. Maybe even safe passage out of the city. All I need to know is your employer." he said as he put his hands on the kids shoulder.

"You promise to protect me? Cause these guys are crazy."

"I promise you. Just tell me."

"It was the Gearjunkies! Some cyber tech fanatics. They were gonna send me up to the upper levels of the city to meet some buyers. They were gonna give me the money and I was supposed to get 10% of the cut."

J.C smiled. He was getting somewhere. "The Gearjunkies own a big chunk of the underground. Where exactly did they send you from?"

"They have a warehouse full of cybernetic parts that's heavily protected. It'll be hard to get passed them."

He blew from his cigarette. "Tell me where."

"Packer District. You can't miss it it's the fenced lot. Grey building."

"Caiton Storage Co?"

"Yeah that's what it was!"

"What was your name again?" J.C asked even though he was told 5 minutes ago before entering the room. "Jack." the young man replied.

"I'm sorry this happened to you Jack." J.C said as he pulled out his revolver and shot Jack in the head, knocking his body down along with the chair. He walked out the interrogation room where two U-ICE security guards were standing at the entrance and J.C's captain, Floyd Mason was standing. "Well?" he asked. "Parker District. Caiton Warehouse."

"So it was the Gearjunkies." Captain Mason said, confirming his suspicions.

"I can get a team rolling now, we'll make it before everyone wakes up."

"You got those Crimson Legion banners?"

"Yeah, we'll put it on top of the warehouse once we kill everyone."

"We'll wipe any camera feed of our involvement. This will be our first step to taking Midway. When that happens, The Underground will be ours."

Later that night, two U-ICE armored trucks were driving out of their controlled area of The Underground to the Gearjunkie warehouse. Their objective was to increase the tensions between the Gearjunkies and the Crimson Legion to trigger their war prematurely while U-ICE takes advantage of the chaos and take over The Underground while they kill each other. Midway would work as a new staging area, to branch out across the area.

U-ICE is seen as another gang by the Gearjunkies, and under no circumstance allow them in their territory. But the higher-ups in U-ICE hashed out a deal with the watchmen to let them through. So in the dead of night, the two trucks had made their way to Caiton Warehouse. J.C was inside of the truck with the security captain beside him, who was briefing his men. "Alright listen up, this is gonna be a simple clean up operation. That means hid hard and fast. We don't want these guys knowing we were involved. Investigations is gonna wipe the security feed as soon as we breach but it won't be down for long. The warehouse is filled with tangos. Check your corners, look after your buddies, and kick ass."

Meanwhile J.C was checking his rifle and exchanged his investigators coat for body armor. The trucks entered the warehouse as the guards were bribed as soon as the raid party made their way. The gates were open and the trucks had stopped in front of the building. U-ICE security personnel had started to pour out of the trucks and into the warehouse. They stormed in the building, killing the gang members and shooting up the place to cause as much carnage as possible. They had found the storages of cybernetics that they stored to sell to clients. They laced it with explosives while marking the warehouse with the mark of the Crimson Legion and putting their banner on the warehouse. Without casting a shadow. U-ICE had vanished from the scene and had detonated the explosives destroying the cybernetics. No evidence pointing to U-ICE was present and the powder keg was soon to go off.

 

[Viper Actual]

The warehouse reeked with the smell of blood, piss, gunpowder, ash and burning oil. Liz felt a slight hint of metal on her tongue as she took a deep breath and sighed. Infront of her was the massacre, or rather what was left of it, laid out in its full glory. Shell casings. Dead bodies. Blood splatter. Oil leakages. Cybernetic limbs torn off by high-caliber weapons. Lastly there were also widespread scorch marks from the fire which had raged inside for hours untill the firefighters had gotten it under control.

Liz stood with her hands in her pockets. Currently she was wearing a bit of a disguise. Long trenchcoat and tinted visors. The ACPD officers and fire inspectors barely paid her any attention or thought- for all they knew she was just some government spook working for the mayor or an investigator with Taskforce Taurus.
Getting to the warehouse had been a bit difficult. She had been in the middle of a meeting brokering the smuggling of expensive wines to some good friends of Club Venus when her ACPD silent alarm had come online. By the time she got the notification the officers responding to a shootout in the industrial sector of Midway had already called for firefighters as the building was set ablaze.

Liz adjusted her visor and looked upwards. A Crimson Legion banner placed up high in all its red glory. The attackers had left no bodies behind which itself wasn't all that unusual seeing as both gangs were known to collect their wounded and dead after firefights. Some of the investigators had recovered a number of shell casings and spent energy cells. No identifying marks or manufacturer. Possibly homemade.

As far as Liz was concerned this was a first strike carried out by the Crimson Legion. It was also a signal for the Gearjunkies. Crimson wasn't planning on letting go of Midway. Liz shook her head.

Knowing the Gearjunkies they were probably mustering forces at this very moment. Exchanging simple cybernetics for homemade military-style armguns and recoiless rifles. Armored vehicles hastily prepared to carry out a retaliatory strike on the Crimson Legion.

Not good. Not good at all.

The only piece of the puzzle was the fact that none of the resources had been looted. Entire caches of cybernetic limbs left to melt in the inferno. It didn't make sense unless the Crimson Legion had begun with somekind of scorched earth-tactic. Perhaps this was the actions of a rogue element or a young Centurion trying to cement his place in the Legion hierarchy?

She would need to dig deeper. Liz could think of at least five informants she could tap for intel, one of which knew the Legion very well.

Liz spun around and casually walked away from the warehouse, passing through the holographic perimeter tape and disappearing among the number of ACPD vehicles parked outside.

 

[Birdsie]

Blue

Pleasure cults, murder cults, blood cults, mafia families that use the old cinderblock-and-water execution method, offshoot Yakuza gangs, offshoot Russian gangs, offshoot Russian mafia that uses the old cinderblock-and-water execution method. Even Italians.

This city had it all, and he's seen enough to lead tourists around to the nearest drug dealer warehouse.

Groovy, yes, but 'the Italians are the real problem. Spaghetti and corpses bring ruin to civilization.'

That's what Vav told him. Personally, Blue fancied an extra thick crust cheese-and-pepperoni pizza after work.

Blue watched the TV in his workshop while affixing a battery pack to his recently purchased Godwyn-de'az pattern las-carbine. The battery had a candy-red segmented glow at the side, indicating it was full.

Vav told him these weapons had little value, but he convinced her. The batteries had a capacity of even one-hundred shots and unlike most ordnance, had adjustable stopping power and fire rate if you ignored the user agreement that said not to modify the weapon to allow for either. After all, some idiot could make the weapon overheat and have it explode in his hands.

Deciding that the sixty-second season of Supernatural wasn't quite as interesting as he'd liked, Blue picked up the remote and turned the news on.

"--Directly from the scene, we have Jack Flynn in our pursuit craft."

The footage changed to that of a hovering news aircraft, which went after a police chase. A man with a microphone on the inside turned to the camera.

"Yes, thank you, John. We've received confirmed reports from the ACPD that this is Ringmaster on the scene. He is proceeding through several sub-level alleyways at high speeds, while the police give chase. Authorities advise all civilians in the area to vacate immediately. He's taken down two--"

Blue turned off the TV and stood up, stretching with haste. He wasn't hoping he'd get there on time, but it was better than not trying.

He picked up his tinted plexiglass faceplate and slid it down into his helmet as the magnetic locks engaged to keep it from falling off. In seconds, his heads-up display blinked on with a red-orange color scheme.

He had to pick the correct equipment for the job. In the case of the Ringmaster, non-lethal measures weren't required.

Blue walked across the workshop to a wall with several firearms proudly displayed. He took his very old auto-pistol, which kept him company since teenage years. The thing was probably older than him, and it showed - its mechanisms had loosened considerably since its prime, but due to impressive maintenance, it was still as good as a new model. His fingers and wrist were used to its specific weight and recoil, enough to make him confident he didn't need anything else except explosives.

But he wasn't stupid, so he took that las-carbine too - he'd give it a test run. A multi-tool knife for sticky situations and a large mono-blade combat knife for stickier ones were a matter of course.

Knowing Ringmaster, his mask had shielding to protect from stunning and visual obstruction. Flashbangs and smoke grenades were out, which left more space for the good shit. Grenades that killed and maimed. Three shrapnel grenades and three more high-explosive concussion nades would do the trick. He pinned them alongside the length of his utility belt for ease of preparation.

Flexibility was the key in all tactical situations. Knowing what you had, and what the enemy didn't, while being prepared to cover your weaknesses or not to allow the enemy to exploit them. That was the center - the keystone - of modern ranged warfare.

He stocked up on ammo, with several extra mags for the pistol and an extra pair of batteries for his las-carbine.

Time to go.

*​

As the bounty hunter hopped on his bike, he gave a call to a pair of other mercenaries he knew. It was common practice to exchange information in this business, and entire webs of cooperating people of interest existed. You gave them something, they gave something back. Sometimes, you'd collaborate and make it through a job together. Have a cigarette and drink a month later to laugh about almost getting eviscerated with a chainsword.

Fun stuff.

Most bounty hunters would be apprehensive about inviting others on their hunt, but Ringmaster was scum that needed quick removal.

The bastard really had some chutzpah to show his face -- well, not literally -- in public when it was open season with over a hundred thousand quid for his anonymous ass.

Blue didn't care who got the monetary reward, and whether it was split or not. Just a bit of street cred for 'participating in the hunt' was good enough since it meant more people that approached him with their high-profile jobs. Ringmaster was an active interest, especially among the locals. Blue knew better than most that just having himself seen on a bit of camera footage, shooting at the bastard relentlessly would be enough to convince someone to hire him.

His Sagax dialed Reese and Thrill, patching through as soon as they picked up.

"Hey, you two. Confirmed Ringmaster chase downtown, sending you the details. Join in, if you have a moment to spare," he said, using coordinated eye movements and blinks to send the data and location of the police chase to Reese and Thrill.

Blue leaned left, turning his hoverbike in that direction and going across a pair of alleyways, rapidly moving toward the scene, which he also had on his HUD alongside a map of the city. It looked like the Ringmaster had wrecked a police cruiser and executed one of the cops, then began to say something to the audience of those onlookers who were too mentally impaired to run.

"Shit. Hope that wasn't one of my contacts," Blue muttered inaudibly.

archur Tiramiisu Shindoku

 

[Tiramiisu]

A woman sat perched on the roof of an abandoned building, her gaze focused on the large laser rifle in her arms. Her hands were constantly moving, checking her ammo and flipping switches that changed the settings on her rifle. The woman let out a content sigh, placing the weapon next to her as she leaned back, finally satisfied with her weapon settings. She closed her eyes, listening to the bustling streets of the slums below. The woman had grown accustomed to the sounds of fights breaking out and the occasional gunshots.

The Argon City slums were a major contrast to how the city was topside. The actual city was a bustling metropolis, filled with the rich and powerful taking control over the poorer middle class. As for the slums, nobody took control, no one cared. You could easily get away with murder and the ACPD couldn't be bothered to look into it. Especially if they were the ones directing the hit.

The woman chuckled lowly to herself, standing to stretch her arms over her head. The sudden voice emitting from the chip in her ear made the woman jump. She laughed at her reaction, bending down to haul the heavy rifle into her hands and compose herself enough to return a response, "Thanks, Thrill. I'll take it from here."

Reese used a rusty steel ladder to climb down from the building. She pushed a button on her rifle, watching as the familiar neon blue lights lit up, giving life to the hunk of metal. "Hello, beautiful." She greeted in an endearing tone. "Time to put on a show."

The woman made her way towards the target building, choosing she'd rather make a grand entrance in the front rather than sneak around back and choose a more stealth-based approach. That just wasn't her style. Reese spent the next couple minutes clearing out the first floor of the tall building, only taking short breaks to recharge her energy rifle before going back to cleaning up the mess.

She hoisted the rifle onto her shoulder, glancing around the floor to see if she missed anyone. The place was a mess, blood was strewn across the walls and bodies sprawled out around her. There were burn marks on the furniture and walls from a couple stray gunshots she had missed with her rifle. This was a typical scene for Reese, normally, she preferred to take care of the main target rather than clean up the remaining lackeys. As long as she was getting paid for the job, she could care less. Reese began to scavenge the bodies searching for what little pocket credits she could find to possibly buy herself food for the week before the earpiece gained her attention yet again. Another job opportunity? That meant double the money in one night! Looks like this was Reese's lucky day.

"Count me in," Reese stated, stuffing a rather expensive looking watch into her back pocket, before speaking to her current partner. "Yo, Thrill. You almost done with your floor? We could go check this job out before calling it a night."

 

[Sylvio]

J.C was in the office of the Underground Operations Chief. They were watching a broadcast of the warehouse that was attacked. The Chief was smiling as he looked at the monitor, but J.C was looking apprehensive. “Another job well done.” the chief said as he turned his chair to face J.C, still staring at the monitor. “This is just what we need to get these thugs to start killing each other. We’ll have Midway before the end of the month.”

But J.C paid no mind to the chief. “We should’ve taken the parts.” he said still staring at the monitor.

“What?”

“Crimson always takes whatever the Gearjunkies have. Plus both know we want Midway just as bad. I feel like our intervention was premature.”

“These men are thugs. They’ll be too focused on each other to look at us.”

“Some of them are to sure to have contacts. They’ll connect the dots and know we had something to do with the raid.”

“Well what are you gonna do about it?”

J.C only turned out the office and made his way out. “Investigators make due chief.”

His best bet was to infiltrate the Legion and see if anyone would be catching on. He would dress himself in typical underground fashion. Wearing a brown leather jacket with a black tee with jeans and black sneakers. To get to Crimson territory all he had to do was cross Midway which only took 10 minutes by bus. He stopped in front of a Crimson checkpoint who guarded the entrance to their territory. J.C was stopped and was patted down, he had nothing on him except his Sagax. He was in no problem and started strolling around, trying to see if anyone suspected U-ICE involvement in the gang war.

 

[Viper Actual]

Liz took a sip from her coffee as she sat by herself on a bench. Infront of her was Holo Park- one of Midway's many unique locations. In this case it was an entire holographic forest complete with animated animals and birds.

A scrawny figure approached her and sat down. The man looked about, as if he was expecting trouble.

"You're late, Marvin."

Marvin was a small man with a pointy rat-like face. Currently he was wearing a filthy cloak to mask his red and black cybernetic arm which bore the emblem of the Crimson Legion. He cleared his throat.

"Sorry Liz. I had to sneak out- we got orders to defend our territory at all costs right now. The entire Legion is preparing for the worst."

Liz grunted. "Did anyone see you?"

Marvin shook his head. "I don't think so. Not sure. I had to call in a favor with one of the guards."
He looked at Liz. "Is this about the warehouse attack?"

Liz nodded. "What can you tell me?"

Marvin shrugged. "I don't think it was us. If it was it was unsanctioned."

Liz took another sip from her coffee. "Is there any way to find out for sure?"

Marvin shook his head. "Communication isn't our best skill. Plus, I'm just an engineer so the Centurions and Legates don't tell me anything."

Liz sighed. She slid a small packet across the bench. "I've got some digging to do. Here's the usual payment."

Marvin grabbed the packet with greedy fingers. "5K?"

Liz nodded. "5K. You should get going now. I'll be in touch."

 

[archur]

Victoria's boots echoed as she stepped over the corpse of another white-suited man, his bleached jacket drenched with the crimson that flowed from the holes that dotted his chest. Her boots echoes down the halls that were once pristine, but ruined after a specific biological abomination ruined many, many things for a few terrible people. Bullet holes marked each of her target's misses, the smoking ones her own.

"I mean, sure I guess." A gunman raised his pistol in weary defiance, but Thrill already had an eye on his movement, not even turning to face him as she planted a bullet into his shoulder. He screamed in pain, dropping the weapon as he clutched his new wound. She could only smile as she knelt to the dying man, shaking her head as she did.

"I wasn't really 'done' done with the floor, but I can speed it up so we can get there." A grin crept across her face as she pressed the barrel to the man's head. "Sucks to run a human trafficking ring, doesn't it?" The gunman gritted his teeth, and spat on her boot. "Tsk tsk tsk." She shook her head. "Can't teach you mercy and compassion." She lifted her gun from his temple. "But I can make you scream for it." She planted a bullet into his legs, waiting a few seconds between each shot to fire another, then another, then another, crawling up his legs, to his torso, before finally blowing his brains out. The cries of agony stopped around the mid torso, but after that, it would seem incomplete to her if she didn't keep going after the fact.

"Sorry for the ruckus. Be down shortly." She wiped the gore from her combat pants, and continued her prowl onwards down the hall. Doors left and right to various offices were already open, their occupants emptied into Thrill's waiting embrace, but a single door at the end of the hall lay closed. She shot the lock with all six of her guns at once, the handle bursting. She prodded the door open with her pistol, waiting for any sort of leaded response from within, but nothing. Her handgun lead the way, eyes all along her arm and the one on her palm scanning the room before she even went in. Idiot thought it would be smart to hide next to the door, and wait for her to come in. She rushed into the room, firing at the richly dressed CEO she had missed during the firefight.

Blood erupted from her thigh, and the impact sent her crashing to the ground. With her assailant out of the way, groaning in pain, Thrill was free to take whatever she wanted from the office. The ID that was on the desk, the Sagax that was in it's own custom gold case- she wondered how much both of these would sell on the black market- a few more locations and times for future 'transactions', and a few pet names for their 'products'. She never knew syntech could be so cruel. Peaches, Princess, Sweetheart, Red- All assigned to different locations, but one was here. Bunny. The creatively named girl from earlier. She wondered if Mara would be included in this group of individuals. She shook her head. There had to be a chance.

"Alright Reese, I got something if you want to see it." She holstered her guns, and took the files strewn across the table downstairs with her.

Tiramiisu Birdsie

 

[The Mechanist]

Hammers hitting metal, jack hammers breaking ground. Drills making their screeches, heavy machinery constantly whirring, the sound of heavy combustion engines from tractors and trucks constantly coming and going; all these noises filled the air. The air that Markus Currently breathes. Way up high in the building sat a man upon a steel beam, a cat next to him as he overlooked the city. The occasional shift in his movements, and his heavy exo whirred, the servos working along with him at the slightest twitch.
His eyes scanned the city before him, looking at all the buildings that made up the city, that built and held it. Many of them he recognized as his employer’s design, others from his previous employer, and the rest from other companies. Markus Emerick was the name of this fellow who currently gazed upon the city with a feline companion next to him. A stray alley cat that has somehow managed to climb all the way to the top to be retrieved by Markus when he noticed it. But this cat showed now fear, and Markus took advantage to gaze out at the city.
“This city....it’s got beauty doesn’t it?” He asked the small feline as it merely began to lick its little paw, bathing itself without a response to the man.
“Yeah I thought so too,” replied the man on behalf of the cat, almost as if words didn’t need to be exchanged and that there was a form of communication not yet shown understood by humanity. With a sigh he got up and scooped the cat up into his arm, the feline showed no resistance and merely got comfortable on the heavily armored piece, carefully and protectively sandwiched between Markus’ arm and chest. Looking down Markus called out his traditional, “impact make way!” Prompting workers and machinery alike to move as Markus jumped, the buildings quickly rising back above him with every foot of his descent. There was nothing but the sound of wind for a few mere moments, but at the end there was a loud crash as Markus landed, his exo being able to easily take the brunt of such a high impact, the cat in his arm completely indifferent to the event that just transpired. As the dust settled the cat got up and jumped to the ground, stretching and yawning, before walking towards the exit and out of the site. Markus sighed as he dusted himself, heading over to his Atlas Spectrebite heavy vibro cutter, attaching it to his rig as the sheer weight of the tool required for it to be attached to him to be used. Once it was on he flipped the switch and the plasma beams that make up the blade lit to life, the soft whirring of the nodes keeping it stable as the man turned and got back to work.

 

[TARDIS06]

The rain started again. Wasn’t it supposed to be summer? Mitchell walked through the crowded streets of Argon, lightly tightening his currently raised hood. He had a spare napkin pressed against his bloody bottom lip, apparently that’s what happens when an ac unit smacks you in the face. Luckily the rest of his pain is only internal, he didn’t have enough bandages if he was impaled.

The soft neon lights filled the street, half flickering every few seconds from overuse. Mitchell noticed one sign that stuck out from the rest, a bright orange contrasting with the soft blues and purples. Callero’s Diner. The best omelettes in Argon if he has anything to say about it. Opening the door with a soft click, Mitchell walked into the retro restaurant. Pale blue paint covered the walls with white lines tracking the perimeter a few inches below the tiled ceiling. Lowering his hood before throwing out the napkin, Mitchell smiled to himself at the familiarity. He always came here when he actually had enough quid to order, or a bad enough day to warrant it. Falling a solid one and a half stories is a good enough excuse right?

Sitting down in one of the fake leather booths Mitchell layed his backpack next to him and scanned his ID card on the small terminal built into the table. He never used one of his ID’s with fake credits while dining here, he actually wanted to see the place stay in business. Typing in his usual order into the terminal, a western omelette with a side of synthetic ham, Mitchell turned his attention to one of the three monitors hanging on the walls. Currently tuned into the news, a brave reporter was discussing the recent Crimson Legion attacks with a few politicians. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if any of them are taken out over the next few days, some of the gang members don’t exactly take kindly to attention from the press. Mitchell should know, he used the threat of exposure to blackmail some of them a while back.

Pulling out his sagax, Mitchell tapped into the monitor’s display and changed the channel to hopefully something a bit more enjoyable. After a few moments of static, a red puppet singing about the importance of the government appeared in the middle of the screen. A smirk spread across Mitchell’s visage, this show was bad back when he used to watch it, now it was just hilariously idiotic. Forget the fact that he remembers the plot of the episode.

 

[Shindoku]

Ringmaster chuckled to himself as he ditched his bike, which exploded behind him as he began walking through the crime ridden back alleyways of the underground, gangsters, Gearjunkies, crimson legion, they all stepped out of his way, he was one of the kings in this underground, and all the pawns knew this. He walks deeper and deeper into the Gearjunkies territory, under his mask he smiles wide, to be sure these worthless criminals needed to be eradicated, and he will do it eventually, but for the time being they had their uses.

He walks up to one of the many lieutenants of the gang, leans on his cane and asks for one little favor "Tell your boss that i need to have a word with him, and that he will find me on a pile of his mens corpses until he shows himself" without even waiting for a response he turns and leaves twirling his cane and whistling

 

[Viper Actual]

The metal doors opened up to the room with Marcus barging in. After his meeting with Tex he had called some of us friends and reached out to some of his contacts. Information and intel had been gathered. Key individuals. Hot locations. Anyone and anything that might be related to the Ringmaster.
As Marcus entered the room the Taskforce Taurus operators inside looked up. They were spread out across the room with some having a late lunch or working out while others were busy cleaning their weapons and gear. A couple were even playing pool.

"To me," said Marcus as he moved towards the center of the room. His team complied and gathered around him. "We have new orders. Brass wants us to take care of the Ringmaster."

Several operators nodded. It was about damn time. With ACPD and numerous private entities on the hunt it was clear that the situation would only get worse unless Taurus stepped in to end the manhunt once and for all.

"ACPD have given us every piece of intel they. I've reached out to my friends in the private sector as well to verify what we already have." Marcus paused.

"I won't lie, this one will be rough. I am confident we can pull this off though. So far things looks like it's only becoming worse. Multiple private companies and bounty hunters. I even got word that the Military Police might step in and, well, we all know what happens when the Federal Government steps in to meddle with ACPD business. We don't want a war on our hands- especially not now with things going sour between the Gearjunkies and the Crimson Legion down in Midway."

Marcus then held up a datapad. "All the intel has been sent to your personal datapad. Keep in mind that this is all strictly confidential and highly-sensitive. Once we start busting down doors it's only a matter of time untill the Ringmaster catches on."

 

[Shindoku]

It was only a matter of hours before the gearjunkies boss showed up and Ringmaster had followed through in his promise, 3 hours, 100 dead, and he was sitting on a pile of their corpses "There you are, your men kept me entertained" he chuckles, when the gearjunkies boss starts to talk "what d-" Ringmaster quickly interrupts "what do i want, that's simple, I want to propose a challenge, the reward is that I wont kill you and all of your men"
He stands up and walks towards the boss "the red legion, I know you have been fighting them, and I want you to expedite that process, if you and your men can kill 500 of them before the end of the week, I will be satisfied.... if not... well, you and your men won't be around for that to matter" the boss glares at Ringmaster "you cant beat us all" Ringmaster laughs "do you really want to see if that's true" with that Ringmaster begins walking away leaving the boss to his thoughts. A war was about to begin.

 

[Boi69]

Shawn was fully dressed in a black suit with the logo of the Military Police on his breast. He was being transferred to the underground to work on the ringleader case. He was to lead a unit to assist Taskforce Taurus as well as overlook some of the investigative work. He was being driven by a fellow agent who was serving as an investigator. He also came with his squad who was being driven in an armored truck as well as another team of agents to assist the investigations. They drove down the ramp to the Underground, driving on main road that was lightened by dim street lamps and neon lights. It was surreal seeing the Underworld like this, it was never this bright or busy from Shawn's experience.

They eventually stopped at the ACPD precinct. Shawn stepped out as well as 9 other agents had exited their vehicles, all clad in black suits and lanyards and they were walking up to the precinct. At the same time 9 armed operatives formed a perimeter around the vehicles. Shawn led his party to the receptionist and she looked at him smile. "Good evening sir how may I help you?"

Shawn showed his lanyard containing his ID card. "I'm Captain Shawn Merrick with the Military Police and we were sent to assist with Ringmaster case. I must speak with whoever is leading this investigation."

"Oh... of course sir I'll let you know they're coming." she then pressed an intercom button to let Marcus know he was coming. "The Military Police are to see you sir... Thank you..." she then directed herself to Shawn. "The man you're looking for is Marcus Bishop."

"Thank you ma'am."

Shawn and his associated walked deeper into the precinct and they all stuck out like a sore thumb as they were looking for Marcus

---------
​

This session of the council was a mess as usual. Amanda's head was pounding at the loud speeches as one of the prominent members of the LPA, who happened to be a former lobbyist for Fahrenheit Armaments was speaking his mind on The Underground Question. "We need to better equip our officers in the ACPD who are fighting hard to keep the criminals from taking over our city. I encourage the council to allow our treasury to invest more into the public security budget and take the fight to these criminals before they continue to hurt more of our people. It is our job to ensure their security and to prove why we are their councilmen."

He had received a thunderous applause from his party members and a few independents. Amanda and the Social Liberals were sulking while the ACPP were discussing with other furiously regarding their opponents speech.

 

[Viper Actual]

Marcus slapped the coffee machine twice. "Give me my damn coffee," he muttered as the machine opted to serve him hot chocolate instead.

"Good enough I guess."

He grabbed the cup and took a sip. Not too bad though the taste of synthetic cocoa beans was pretty strong. Marcus sighed and was about to head back to the ops center when he noticed ten men in suits rounding a corner farther down the corridor.

By the look of things they were heading straight for him. Looks like the Feds mobilized the FMP faster than expected.

Marcus positioned himself at the center of the corridor with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his red 'Worlds Best Dad'-cup. It had been a gift from his daughter Liz who worked as somekind of civil servant. At least that's what she wanted him to think.

As the men neared him Marcus looked at their lanyards covered in barcodes, military stamps, nametags and the seal of the Federal Government.

Marcus pulled his hand out of its pocket and extended it towards Shawn.

"Commander Marcus Bishop. Taskforce Taurus, ACPD. I'm guessing you are our reinforcements?"

Boi69

 

[Boi69]

Shawn reached his hand out to Marcus. “That we are. Captain Shawn Merrick. Domestic Security, Military Police." He then released Marcus' hand and spoke "These men behind me will help with any sort of investigative work you may have. As such we're going to look into any files you may have on the Ringmaster. In addition I would like to get to know the other members of your team as well as anyone else I should know."

------
​

As the LegCo assembly was now out of session, Amanda had exited the chamber with other members of the Social Liberals. "We're gonna have a war on our hands if we don't counteract that Armament Bill." said her secretary general, Max. The Armament Bill was something the LPA had proposed to increase the militarization of police specifically in the Underground. It wouldn't help anyone, except the corporations who voiced support for the bill. With the ACPD conducting arrests and raids on gangs or lowly criminals, it's just a few more victims thrown into the corporate slave pens that are the Argon City corrections facilities. Where criminals exist to assemble sagax's, ala's, and other gadgets that the public enjoy, with no pay or gratitude for what they do. Even when they've done their sentence they end up back in the system anyway. Surely it can't be the abuse they experience in the facilities, right? Of course the ACPP had jumped the shark on that whole "conspiracy" and had embarrassed themselves on the floor with no sort of citation. Their popularity has been stagnating and many of the upper level citizens have changed their party membership to LPA or SocLib. Because of that tensions between the ACPP and SocLibs have grown.

Amanda needed to defeat the LPA and their bill, but with the ACPP losing seats and independents siding with the LPA, it was hard to do so. She wasn't trying to get anyone locked up. But she needed a way to prove the bill was harmful to the city.

Viper Actual

 

[Viper Actual]

After shaking Shawn's hand firmly Marcus nodded. "Pleasure to have you."
Marcus then gestured towards the corridor behind him using his thumb. "We have our ops center, armory, briefing room and garage farther down the hall. If you have vehicles outside they should head around back- one of my men will meet them up. We also have some basic living quarters for high-profile cases such as this."

He took another sip from his cup. "With that said, let me show you around."

Boi69

 

[Shindoku]

Ringmaster whistled to himself and twirled his cane, he walked through the streets, people hurrying to get out of his way, those with enhancements to their eyes lose their ability to see until he passes, he wasn't trying to hide, in fact he wanted the ACPD to find him, he wanted to have a word or two, and with that he walked right into the open, in front of the ACPD, he yelled, his voice echoing through nearby speakers "Hello? I'd like to speak to an investigator, specifically the one working my case, i believe i might have some, information" Ringmaster laughs "Oh and he better come out alone, or i cant guarantee the safety of everyone else around here, and if i notice a weapon drawn and aimed at me, there will be hundreds of deaths on your hands." Ringmaster leaned on his cane and waited