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Futuristic Crsytal Oz (DEAD)

OOC
Here
Characters
Here

TrashRabbit

probably from space
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
Crystal Oz


Game Design and Summary

This RP is ahigh stakes cat and mouse cyber adventure with light dice work and heavy themes of corporate intrigue in a world inspired by Wizard of Oz archetypes and allusions. The themes, character types, and world are only loosely inspired by the book/movie in the same sense that some RPs will feature an underlying tarot card or Greek mythology theme. It is not intended to mirror the world of Oz in any literal sense. Other influence including noir, solarpunk, cyberpunk, Bioshock, Blade Runner, the fifth element and Mad Max. Characters are not expected to have OZ allusions, but if desired they could--Alice in Wonderland, fairy tale, nursery rhyme, and other children's literature references will earn smiles.

Players will track down the [ruby slipper] using the resources of the faction their character is aligned with. This game will have cooperative and competitive elements. The first to obtain it and figure out how to open the package and then successfully use it will win the game. This RP will have light dice work and a strong action focus. However strong characters, interactions, intrigue, well written posts, and fun are definitely still our goals. Whether the story is a fast pace blockbuster or an intense slow burn mystery drama will depend highly on the players, their characters, and our narrative wants!

The light dice engine mentioned can be found here: Engine on google doc. The enigne is an apocalypse world hack, however in implimentation the dice is much lighter than the original. The engine exists only to ensure that factions and characters can remain competitive without fear of godmoding or conflicts of interest, and to keep things exciting. Any battles, scraps, close calls, or negotiations will have to be played out in character with normal Rp etiquette!

The posting length for this RP is however long it needs to be to get the job done. I consider this project to be Lit but post length may vary drastically as I hope to encourage a lazy lit fast-paced call and response type pace dotted with longer solo missions where players and characters dictate large swath of action and plot. Instant messaging and chatlogs will also be a factor in this world so that format of rping will also be employed when necessary.

Plot

The project known as [Ruby Slipper] was ECE's latest, greatest and last scientific breakthrough before the CEO was killed and the merger with Scopae Science took place. A valuable package from the mysterious project went conveniently missing around the same time and in the months that came after the merger one thing has become certain: Oz’s leading factions are willing to tear the city apart to get at whatever the ECE cooked up. The primary and secondary characters of this story will be the agents or individuals responsible for their factions search for the missing package.

The city

Oz is an underwater city known for the green hue cast by the bio-dome holding back the ocean overhead. The city is ove one hundred and seventy years old and was once a place of progress, change, and hope for a renewable future. It was founded by the Ozymandias Power Corp, noted for its early breakthroughs in ocean current turbines, and the company still holds major sway there. Contact was lost with the surface some fifty years ago after some unknown but major surface event. Since then Oz has become less of utopia and more a renewable disaster. Inequality and crime have become rampant and data is currency everyone speaks.

sectors
Some one at some point sat down and planned Oz. But honestly its a rabbit warren now of tall buildings, compact hives of living spaces, forgotten passages and poorly planned out terraces. The city is broken up into Sectors, Districts and then unofficial neighbor hoods.




  • Home to both Scopae, Ozymandias power, Al-sim and the city council head quarter buildings, it is a place of wealth, bustle and power.


Factions


  • Is the mega power company that founded the city. While the city runs on the corporation's ocean current combine, they also run a mining operation below the seafloor and the city itself. What they mine for is currently under wraps. For all intents and purposes, Ozymandias is the government these days and the Heir to the company is also the current Governor of the city-state. It is by far the largest employer in the city owning nearly half of the residential ring.


Character Types



  • These surface refugees enter the city in the hundreds through Ozymandias's relocation program. There is not much information made public about them or on what criteria they are chosen for, or how many were denied entrance to the city. What is common knowledge though is each and every one of them has had their memory erased. They retain their skills, (they are all skilled and useful workers; no exclusions) a shopping list of their likes and dislikes, and few lingering glimpses of this and that - Many experience out of context memories that have to do with their profession and advanced experience. All trace of what life was like on the surface as well as their name, and anyone they knew are gone. They do however remember agreeing to the process while in a large waiting room. They don't realize they are from the surface nor is that common knowledge to the public, It is mostly assumed that this is some new trial version of a program to replace the LIoN, and in some cases that's probably true.

    They are usually hired out to companies for cheap, many for nothing but room and board. They have all been given a new name all with the last name Dorothy. The only hint of the fate of the surface they retain is their lack of implants, scars, and the look of rough living around their eyes. For the player to know, the surface is a rough place, think wild west type apocalypse like Mad Max, water world, the Road, Tankgirl or Escape from New York. Though, one things for sure, no matter how bad it is in Oz it was probably worse out there.
    Rights: Full citizens if exploited due to 'relocation debts' and lack of memory in a new place.
    Themes: home, memories, foreigner, discovery of self


Technology


  • “The internet” of this world. The Cry-fi field is emitted mainly by the crystal core, the smaller Crystal Hubs around the city and even the teeny tiny C-chips used in Tinmen and general data storage. The Cry-fi stores data in real space, making computation speed and storage space nearly infinite. Since data is moving through space in real time (often invisibly and faster than the human eye can track) hacking is a much less sedentary job. The Cry-fi field has several “channels” or “vibrational frequencies”, So multiple things/data/programs can be happen in one physical space to a limited extent. The term Deep Cry-fi refers to the lower channels which are less reliable, less used, and slightly harder to attune hardware too.


NPC list

The Agent
A cat mask wearing Ozymandias goon who sports suits, a sword and a Russian accent.

Ajax
An improperly processed Dorothy with his memory intact. His prosthetic hands are a laser technology powered by surface tech and pink crystals.

Thirteen
A scarecrow girl from the same Batch as Sev. She is deeply embroiled in the ECE murders and has been missing since the murder.

Ambrose Diggs
A renowned cryfi scientist known for his philanthropy work.

Nine
Another scarecrow from Sev's batch, he has an autoimune illness curently and has been recalled by Scopae authorities, along with the rest of his batch.

JJ
The tinman who owns JJ's repair Shoppe. killed by Panhead.

Liliya
A kind patron of the Core virtual chat room known as the Nekomancer.

Blackcat
The cellleader of a lizkto candies.

Officer Dolan
The lead dectective on the Evvamene Eastman murder case

Dr. Slater
Coronor who performed Evvamene Eastman's autopsy.

Evvamene Eastman
A murdered CEO.

Kariuki
The personal assistant of the Al-Sim Boss. Has nails like justice.


Cause of Rp Death: campaign notes, npc files, maps and critical information needed to complete the game were lost in a computer crash. I intend to run this again but hour and hours of work need to be redone to make that happen.
 
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Once Upon a Time in Oz

The murder of Evvamene Eastman Had all but disappeared form the headlines- but the vacuum her death had created could be felt from the lowest level of the south sector slums to the highest towers of the Ozymandias corporate office. There were rumors of course- that the murder had been the working of scopae science- But something was off about that, just this once. Scopae science wasn't handling the merger well, they didn't sweep in like a well orchestrated machine, the city knew they could be- the murder wasn't covered up with quiet the finesse that the main contractor of Al-sim labor could. And of course there were other rumors, a dime a dozen both on the streets and in the cryfi; that something had been lost. Something that Scopae wanted.

It was a dull average day when the Al-sim courier comes knocking on King's proverbial door- in this case he just sits down on the bus besides him and passes him a note. A note, on rice paper, is no small gesture of secrecy. He's young and scrappy looking with bright green hair, the winged ape tattoo on his neck has yet to heal, “Uh,” He says, “I dunno what that note says, but the boss sends his apologies about the head unit,” He pantomimes at his own head where a LIoN would be, and looks sympathetically at the unit King is sporting, “Said there were too many witnesses to weasel you out of it. He says he trust you with this more than anybody, cause you're the last guys they're gonna expect. And that if you need that thing jail broke, you know who to call.”
He doesn't wait for you answer, he gets up and scurries off the pod. The door close and the Pneumatic tube swallows the pod as you rocket smoothly towards your next destination.
The note says; The ECE job wasn't ours. There was one witness. Find him.
The news hadn't said anything about a witness. Not even the Glinda and Mombi Herald, and they usually published even the inconvenient facts.

There's a data node, near the candy shop; that is used occasionally- usually when a member isn't sure whom to contact, or who has lost contact with their cell leader. It fell on Le Grin to route this messages most days, as he is one of the few people to be at the Candy Shop Daily, and reliably. The shop is the heart of the movement and the staff rotates quickly- it's Le Grin who actually lives there.
Today the data node has something else in it and its addressed to you; Ozymandias is looking for something- their agent has been sighted all over town. Cryptid confirmed. Check it out for us Mr. Kitty. What's he trying to find.
Attached is the picture of something that you weren't sure was an urban legend until now, A man in a crisp blue suit and a kabuki style cat mask entering a nearby Tinman repair store. You recognize the place, it's call JJ Repairs. The cat masked agent is Ozymandias's trump card, an assassin- something like slender man, mostly just called The Agent.
The information began to disintegrate in the cryfi after it was opened and in moments it will be gone. The Info wasn't signed by current you cell Leader Black Cat, so you assume it must have come from higher up.

The email is sent directly to Snow, pinging up on her device as she goes about her day. It says its from Black Cat, the call sign your Lizakto cell leader has been using lately. He's asked you to look into this and that lately, keeping tabs on guest at your stepmother's club, infiltrating their emails while there and more rarely sending you afield to gather more clandestine information. The jobs haven't been high stakes, and a risk taker like snow knows she's capable of a lot more. Maybe this is her big break. Maybe this the mission she can convince the candy commandos that she's ready for something more-
At first glance the message seems mundane, but its ciphered and coded, and after a moments inspected you parse;
“There's a scientist of the name of Ambroise Diggs. Used to work for ECE- he knows something about the merger. Let me know when you find out what.”
Doesn't seem like much, but Dr. Diggs is a name everybody knows. He has just about one of every public building named after him; schools, bus stops, libraries, you name it. He's an easy man to find, he has tenure at the the Applied School of Cybertronic Arts.

It's not unusual for Sev to be asked to do a little hacktavism by his boss. On the books he just the IT guy- the one stuck convincing devices to sync with the proper cryfi channels, and dragging wayward nodes back into location when they drift.
“Can you Skim Scopae's emails again- that last bit you found about the Al-Sim contract buyout was gold,” The editor had said, he was an older gentleman with a mustache; J Jonah Jameson was a tough blunt force object and often asked the extremely difficult in small easy to parse sentences.
What Sev finds is the repeated use of the words Ruby Slippers in the emails. Many of the emails appear mundane, asking for programs or more office supplies. And as the merger completes the term begins to show up in Scopae upper management as well. You don't know what it means, but you also know J. Jonah Jameson wont be happy if you come to him with only half a story.


What do you do?
 
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- Cheshire Le Grin -
"JJ Repairs "

The hustle and bustle of the South Sector was chaotic as usual this grey Monday morning. Smoke bellowed from crooked chimneys, where underneath the mismatched roofs of rickety and leaning buildings all crammed together, the folks of Wet Alley were busy distilling sewage water to wash laundry.

This side of the slums was known for it's detergent-smelling waterways you could raft through, decent laundry shops, mutated fish soup, and cheap bottled water that tasted a bit soapy, but at least you don't glow or grow an extra arm. There is a ruined building here turned into a makeshift daycare where mothers and fathers home-school the neighborhood kids, and across this children-crowded hubub was a Lizatko Candy Shop that was just about to start it's day.

A pink-padded paw appeared on the other side of the glass door that reached up and flipped the store sign from 'Closed' to 'Open', then the doorbell tinkled as a cat in a suit with a briefcase under his arm, quickly stepped out and into the side before the horde of waiting children could trample him.

"Hello, Mr. Le Grin!" waved a couple of kids at the cat, as behind him the store staff was immediately busy handing out the usual free tasty vitamins disguised as candies that they give to the kids every morning.

"Good morning, Donny, Sarah, Miguel, Raphael, " said Mr. Le Grin in an English accent, letting the kids, who were only a few inches shorter than him, pat his fluffy head as they passed, " be careful not to trip --- oh, hello Mrs. Coco, are you watching the kids today?" he added when a large kindly looking lady with frizzled red hair, a round button nose, and a boisterous way about her followed the kids inside.

"Good morning, Cheshire, yes I am." she said busily, watching the kids carefully, but smiling all the same. "Off to work as usual?"

"No, I've got a quick errand to run at JJ's first today, my clockwork heart's feeling a bit rusty, but it's nothing a little oil and cleaning won't fix." he said amiably, putting his wide brimmed hat on.

"Is it serious?" said Mrs. Coco, suddenly concerned. "Do you want my son to come with you?"

"Oh, no it's not, don't worry. I just feel as though a gear is turning slower than it should, but I would appreciate young Oliver's company."


- - - - :captaincat: - - - -​


Mr. Cheshire Le Grin strode under the crisscrossing clotheslines waving colorful clothes above the crowded streets. Beside him was a gaunt emo teenager by the name of Oliver Coco who had hair too long over his face that one couldn't quite tell what expression he was making.

"Is this where ya want me, Mr. G?" he slurred lazily, leaning against a brick wall in a corner across JJ Repairs, and taking out a vape.

"Yes, that's perfect. You blend in with the other hoodlums." said Mr. Le Grin, glancing at the other beggars, tinmen in grave disrepair, and shady folks in the area.

"Whatever happens to you, I tell the cashier at Lizetko's, yeah?" drawled Oliver.

"Exactly." said Mr. Le Grin, opening his suitcase and giving him a brick.

Oliver turned to look at it. "What's this for?" he puffed out a smoke.

"In case someone might try to mug you in the streets."

"'Kay." the teen shrugged, then slumped down the brick wall and just started smoking away.

Mr. Le Grin disappeared into the busy crowd. Weaving through the forest of walking legs, some rusted and mechanical, others ragged, or dirty bare-footed, until he finally came to the front of the repair shop, then without further ado went inside.

With a casual look about the place, he strode busily towards the main desk, where a pink padded paw tried to reach for the bell to get the store clerk's attention.

TrashRabbit TrashRabbit
 
King Panthera
City View Apartments, 25th Floor, Room 235
"Ding Ding Ding!!! The time is 07:21 am. The weather today is sunny with no hint of rain. Expect temperatures to be 23 degrees Celsius."

King opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. For a moment, all was peaceful. He looked at his side. A young lady, blonde, with a fair skin complexion and freckles on her space. He smiled. He vividly remembered picking up the girl at the local bar. They had a few drinks and well she is here, must have impressed her. Not news. He placed her hand which was resting on his chest and gently placed it on the bed and got up.

He walked to the large mirror on his bedroom and gazed at the city, all buck nude. The sight never failed to impressive him. The towering buildings were intimidating, always saying, 'look at me, I am superior.' Next to him, he always had a bottle of scotch and a few glasses. He poured one for himself one. He swirled the golden liquid in a clockwise motion and sipped once. The alcohol burned his mouth but the swallowing was relatively soft. He closed his eyes to savor the taste. Liquid gold. Ichor as they said it.

He felt a hand on his shoulders. He opened his eyes and it was the girl from before. "Good morning, Bethany."

"I am surprised you remember my name. May I?" Bethany said as she reached for his glass. He passed it to her and she took a sip. "Well apart from your amazing bed skills, i applaud your choice of liquor. "

"60 year old whiskey. One of the rarest brand. I got is a gift from a client. A very famous Connoisseur. I saved her daughter from some kidnappers a few months back. I was given an option of money or this beauty." He lifted the very fragile bottle. "Tulibardine 1952. The money was good, but this. This is the best gift."

"i agree. The after taste is smooth. I like it. Well i have a shift in 45 minutes. How about a quick shower together?" Bethany said as she winked at him, tracing a line on his chest.

'I don't understand why we are standing around here talking." He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her, making her shriek as he carried her towards the shower.



Bethany left a mark on King, a positive one at that. He smiled at himself as he rode the Pneumatic Tube towards the office HQ. The news on the screens were rather grim. A girl from the East Coast Electronics has been killed. ECE is the frontier of technology, and the source of this massive implant on his head. He scratched the implant thinking he could just rip it off and life to go on.

An AI sim courier handed him a note, he looked at the courier. He had never seen him before, perhaps a new employee. He mentioned something about jailbreaking his implant. Well if pushing comes to shove, he might well do that. But at a later stage. As the courier left, he opened the note, The ECE job wasn't ours. There was one witness. Find him. Well that was vague. Well guess his next stop is straight to the boss's office.

The HQ was a sight to behold. I mean being that successful and add the fact that they merged with Scopae Science had its merits. No more looking like a bootleg operation. He entered the automatic doors and went straight to the lifts. Having such an implant has made people fear him and at the same time made them uncomfortable. So he decided to keep the interactions at the office very small unless someone had the guts to talk to him.

He swiped his access key at the lift and pressed the top most button. As the doors closed, memories flooded his mind of the times he went that far up. Once was when he was getting a commendation and the second was to check in with the boss about his new implant. The boss was not pleased but it seems King had left a mark on the boss. Otherwise, he would have been fired.

His train of thoughts were interrupted when the doors opened. He stepped out and went to the receptionist. "Hi. I am here to see the Big Man if its possible"

TrashRabbit TrashRabbit
 
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The alarm started to go off like crazy and Eden woke with sudden jolt. She sat straight up and looked around. "I wha?" She then realized it was just her alarm. She sighed and shut it off then fell back on to her bed. Her stepmother made her get a new alarm so she would make sure to wake up. As Eden laid there staring at the ceiling she heard a intercom turn on and her stepmother voice broke through. "Eden you better not be lazing around. Get to your chores and get breakfast made NOW." The intercom shut off and Eden imagined herself just kicking that woman in the ass for once. But Eden wouldn't do that...she was to nice and plus the woman was powerful and rich and well she could make her life even harder. Eden sat up and got out of bed. "Let's see what do I have to do?" She walked over to her chart and calendar that was hanging up on the wall. It had listened the chores she had to do for the day. "Right then time to get to work." She dashed into the bathroom got dressed and started on her chores. Once she was done she sat at the kitchen counter and laid her head down. "Ugh! I swear why does she have to make me do all of this in the morning. I could just spread it out through out the day but no she wants me to do it first thing in the freaking morning!" When she realized she yelled that she covered her mouth acting as if the walls had ears. Though kind of did but only when Eden was talking through the intercom. "I better get breakfast made. Eden said as she stood up. Once breakfast was done she put it on a tray and brought it up to her stepmother's room. When she walked in she noticed a man laying the bed and her stepmother was up and dressed. Gross. Eden thought to herself. She noticed he was Dorothy. She could tell by the way he looked. Though she wasn't surprised people seemed to prefer Dorothys when it came to "partners". Probably because they had no cyboric parts. At least that was her guess. "Um breakfast is ready." Eden said as she sat the tray down on the dresser. The guy in bed glanced over at he with smiled. Eden just stuck her tongue out at him and he cocked an eyebrow up. Suddenly her stepmother spoke up. "Now Eden listen I'm heading over to he club." Her office was there. "I want you to run some errands for me." Her stepmother handed her a piece of paper. "Take care of this and come straight back to my office got it. We have a lot to do. The club has been remolded with a new them and a lot of people are coming to the reopening in tonight might even be featured on tv and Important people. I don't want you ruining anything got it? Now go and hurry up." Eden was soon shoved out the door and there was slam behind her. "Good morning to you to." Eden headed back to her room changed out of her chore clothes and headed out.

Her stepmother, Sophia Faraday, was a very rich and wealthy woman who ran a famous club. Just recently she had remolded and made bigger. It was called the Kingdom Of Hearts and she was the queen. Tonight was the big reopening and not going meant you probably weren't rich or important enough to get in. Eden worked there as bartender and what not. Now not only were their bars but there would be eating sections, huge dance floors, private rooms. IT was going to be massive which meant more work for Eden.

Eden had gotten on the bus and was checking her email on her phone. Which she noticed she had a special email from Black Cat. Eden smiled and opened it though she saw it was coded. Must be important. She thought to herself. "Let's see......."

“There's a scientist of the name of Ambroise Diggs. Used to work for ECE- he knows something about the merger. Let me know when you find out what.”

Eden thought for a moment...right she had heard about what happened. She beamed this might be the chance she was hoping for. Well at least it seemed like it would be. "Sorry stepmother looks like I have some business to attend to."
TrashRabbit TrashRabbit
 
Sev​

The little scarecrow frowned at the words Ruby Slipper and then up at the Scopae building. The fire escape in an alley two blocks away was surprisingly good for hacking into their nodes, a fact Sev had never tried to explain, and only appreciated. They frowned back at the emails. They weren't going to have the answers to what Ruby Slipper was, but they might tell them who did.

Sev went back through the emails, looking for a sender who knew more about Rubby Slipper than they did.
 
J J repairs

The shop was bright and parts lined the narrow walls in milk crates stored in metal shelves. JJ's was a sweet spot to pick up servos, bolts and rotors. He had a lathe and made most of these small parts from scratch. The pricier stuff, the full arms, the custom faces, these were salvaged. Though JJ lived up to some high ideals, took trades in like he was a used salesman and refurbished them- As a Tin himself JJ was vocally apposed to unethical scavenging.

JJ himself was a custom model, the kind of tin you didn't see a lot. The kind that looked like a real boy. He was tall dark and handsome and today he was missing his left arm- not a usual trait of his.

“Hey man,” He said as Le Grin entered. He was a tough tin to forget, being customized as he was, “How can I help you?” He glanced over his shoulder. Behind him was the curtain that separated the back room from the front but his glance didn't last long and he put on a smile.

Applied School of Cybernetic Arts Campus
animegirl20 animegirl20

The Applied School of Cybernetic Arts campus was sprawling and affluent. And the bus stop spits out visitors into a small plaza- the old fountain was re-appropriated to be filled with flowers- the school had taken some flack for wasting water some years back so many water features had been converted this way. It was the kind of place upper class aunties would go for walks, with flowers and small trees- though the artificial sky was low here the atmosphere of the campus was still darling. It was one of the few places out side the north district filled with green and the locals of the crowded east district appreciated it.

Ambroise Diggs wasn't a hard man to find on campus, though his office seemed to be guarded by two or three layers of interns and secretaries. The sign on the front most desk proclaiming, office visits by appointment only. The secretary is in her earlier thirties, with a pink beehive hairdo and a flashy print dress shirt in neon green- she's just the kind of girl you'd expect in a theoretical cryfi professors lobby. The intern is a young man with blonde hair and scowl, he's working on something and he doesn't seem pleased with it.

How do you proceed?


Pan Prompt

What you find is hot. Red hot. Rigged to infect, rigged to disintegrate. The little node of data is half gone when you pick it up in the alley.

Xfksi. 34.xf2

You recognize the encoding as Ozymandais seedier handiwork and you recognize the transmission as a location for a larger data drop. It's the kind of thing you might report to lizakto. It's the kind of thing you might look into yourself. It's the kind of thing you might ignore. The data cache coordinates are only a few blocks away, just near a pedestrian sky bridge.

What do you do?

Mad Hatter Prompt

ECE has been a mad house since the merger. Never mind Evvamene Eastman memorial. For a successful corporation the staff is small and the loss for many was personal. The scientist there are close knit. The mood in the ECE buildings is hostile. No one believes for an instant that Scopae didn't orchestrate this- however Scopae has handled the event too hamfistedly in your opinion to have orchestrated it.

You've got something nobody else has.

You have the surveillance data from that night. You can see where the feed cuts out for the ten minutes it takes Evvamene to go from filing paper work and scolding a janitor to slouched across her desk. If the perpetrator discarded the data in those ten minutes instead of deleting it, a much faster way of covering there tracks, it means that bit of data could still be around. But since that data could be physically anywhere I the building you're up to a bit of a challenge.

What's your plan?

Sev

A little digging gets you dirt. You hone in on the one member of ECE who communicates to Scopae about the Ruby slippers. One Ajax Atlantis. Not a scientist. He's listed as a janitor? Strange. Not what you were hopping for.
 
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The PanHead
Dead drops
Thy name is Ozymandias, king of kings... How long until they were a collosal wreck, boundless and bare? Panhead's memory always flicked to some half-remembered, likely only half-preserved poem from the days before when he saw that name. He didn't remember the crisis up there, no-one did. The odds were, even on the surface, or in Ozymandias's own data vaults, no-one knew. Humans still lived up there, though. The end was not certain. And the endgame was far, far away. Panhead only spent a fraction of a second considering this, and got moving.

Lizatko wouldn't be on this fast enough, and whoever was supposed to see this already had, only a minute before. It was a good thing he was wearing his wallflower clothes. He moved through the streets like a fluid streak, only slowing and taking up a human pace once he was already at the mall where the skybridge could be found. It took him a minute or two to find a good place near the bridge itself to sit. There were tables for a nearby cyber-cafe right next to the entrance, and he took a seat, positioning himself to look a ways down the bridge: That's when he flipped on the immersion goggles and gloves. He'd been wearing them already, but now they were active. His stance said he was trying to hit the core from the cafe. Really, he was just flicking away all the ads and the cyber-menu (though he did order a cheap coffee because he didn't want to be kicked out) so he could see down the bridge, and still look like he was off in some distant reach of cyberspace. He could see the edge of the node, too. Perfect. His view was established.

Everything was set, so he began the last step before he settled in for the long haul: Coding an I/O logger. Basically, a simple program that would be difficult to notice, and copy anything going in or out of the data node. Specifically, he was interested in the Out part. If he was reading that first dying node right, by the time he got set up, the data would already be in that node. Finding it would be tricky, but catching it on the way out would be easy, especially if an Obvious Ozzy walked in or out of his end of the tunnel. the real trick would be parsing it out of everything else that was going in and out, which is why he was still here: To see who would make a pickup, and when. A cyber-cafe like this, immersion gear like his, not many people would be surprised if he was here for hours, maybe even all night. He wouldn't even have to leave looking for a peaceful place to process everything. The only thing that could fuck this up was a concerned citizen or someone lonely. Maybe a real cyber-wizard would pick his brain's minor field out from the larger one his headset had going on, but he doubted that. Those guys didn't like to leave their lairs, and they especially didn't like hanging around this many people.
 
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PanHead stake out​

Its a few minutes before a stocky fellow who looked so much like the stereotype of a Dorothy it hurt approached the node. He was still tan and wearing a bandana around his head like there might still be real sun around to hurt him. Notable he was rocking a flannel and and an ECE tech conference t- shirt. He wasn't subtle as he approached in a rush and leaned precariously over off the edge of the pedestrian bridge to reach the node. He doesn't seem to have the advanced gear that would let you do that sort of thing from a distance. His hands might be mistaken for cryfi gloves but there's something off about them- they're red and they don't look like any mainstream cybernetics you're familiar with. There is something familiar yet foreign about them to pan's eyes.

His robo hands are red, like his flannel and his bandana. This idiot might have a favorite color.

The data in the node began to self destruct- He hadn't put in the access codes or attempted subterfuge. Just went straight for the bait. Just like a you'd expect of a Dorothy with only basic cryfi training. That is- until Panhead tried to tag him- the culprit looked down at a holopad on his hand and suddenly The ID check bounced. It takes another moment to realize the guy has skimmed Pan's own Tether ID before he starts to book it.
 
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The Panhead
Sometimes you gotta drop a house on someone. Sometimes you just drop the hammer.

Patrick liked being proven wrong. He liked being surprised. Panhead didn’t. Being wrong got his people recycled, and being surprised got him shot. This time, he was wrong about nobody messing this up for him. Some cybernetic Dorothy just screwed the pooch, and got the data shredded. Who was this asshole with? He’d find out later, he was grabbing his ID... Wait. This dumbass got Panhead’s ID instead. Was he a ‘savant’ or a script kiddie? Whatever he was, he was about to be toast. Pan knew the Dorothy had more of that file than he did, and he was gonna get it one way or another.

Mile for mile, you couldn’t outrun Tins. Not without way more metal, or a ride. And that’s without parkour. Needless to say, the Dorothy was on the ground in seconds, and Pan was removing his left hand.

“You’re no Ozzy, and I’ve never seen you in our clubhouses. So what kinda minmax Script kiddie idiot fucks up data retrieval this bad, but also manages to snag my ID? Who you with? Twenty seconds to comply.”

He said, knowing full well that all eyes were on him. So he slid out a Custom, fired one of its five shots into the ceiling, and pressed the weapon to the back of this Dorothy’s skull.​
 
Lewis

The pale man sat on his living room couch with a glass of water, free hand swiping through the air as he advanced the security footage he had acquired through anonymous trade frame by frame. He flipped up his immersion mask for a second and took a sip of water, letting the cool taste wash away the uneasy feeling that was building up in his stomach. Then he flipped the mask down again and went scrounging for details.

Lewis knew the importance of details. Of course he knew, it was his damn job to know. You didn't become a Electrical Engineer by not knowing that everything had to fit together.

And a little voice from his past life told him "don't forget the details", too.

So there he sat, the third night in a set of sleepless nights. He would probably tuck in early tonight, say, 4 AM? He could only sleep on the job so much before someone got suspicious.

Across the room sat a lightweight plastic table, dirtied with burn marks and scratches, and covered by different gadgets of his, some laying with circuitry exposed to the air, others encased in a quick plastic job, making them look like actual tools rather than something an anarchist would use to crudely hack a keycode.

Although he supposed that's what most of it was for.

Over the past few days he had been gathering everything he needed to raid the building Evvamene had been... removed from. Specifically the security office. It was something of a misguided hope he might find something in there, but as of right now, it was his most apparent option. He estimated that he should have everything he needed to get to the door of the security office, and in if Scopae hadn't yet changed the electronic locks to something of their own design. He doubted they had, but if they did it could prove challenging, and he'd still need to get into the security system which any sane yet incredibly malicious company would've recoded the permissions of by now. That would probably be the most difficult part of this, Lewis would probably need to decode their protections by hand, and he wasn't particularly good at that. Though if he had an entire night...

He focused his attention back to the feeds, trying to piece together the 'ten minute murder', as he had been calling it. It wasn't like Scopae, and he was convinced it wasn't. Scopae was obvious. Scopae shared their every move with their stockholders, and boasted about their new designs and methods to the press without even being prompted. Scopae basically ran on the opposite of secrecy... transparency, Lewis supposed. It didn't matter, no matter what word he used it wouldn't change the fact that this thirty minute clip was the only trace they had left behind, at least as far as Lewis was aware. His bloodshot eyes analyzed the frame. Hopefully by the end of the night, he could determine if-

Dzzt. Dzzt. Dzzt.

The alarm clock next to his bed in the other room had started to go off, and the clock read 8:00.

Crap.

He hadn't slept in over 50 hours, besides some short naps. If he went in today there would be no way he would be able to stay working. Better to call in sick and sleep. He minimized the window and opened up a call with his office. "Hey, this is Lewis, I'm not going to make it today..."

...

...

He'd dozed off after he completed the call, oops. Time to continue analyzing the video, then maybe he could finally get some sleep.
 
@Panhead

The scuffle over the hand lasted but a moment and ended with the fellow face down on the ground, gun to his head. The prosthetic had popped off with relative ease, seemingly designed to do so- that's not how they're made down here in Oz, but something in you seemed go for it.

"Fuck me dead, mate, don't tell me I'm not Aussie, you absolute drongo. Root my brain with a bullet if ya want." As he spoke a soft whine began, high and crystaline. It's not anything you've heard before, not a weapon you know. but the sound of it instills a feeling, dredges up the remnants of a memory; Blood and sand in your mouth, burnt hair and gasoline and the most pervasive dread you've felt in a long time. "You've got 0 seconds to stuff it," He says before the cherry pink blast comes at you over his shoulder, projected out of the palm of his right hand.
 
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- Cheshire Le Grin -
"JJ Repairs "

"Good morning, J, I need a quick check up on my clockwork heart." said Mr. Le Grin hastily, wide brim hat just peeking from behind the edge of the counter. "It feels as though a gear is slowly turning in there." He placed a paw on his chest and grimaced.

He followed the tinman's glance to the backroom. "Are you busy with another customer? Perhaps they won't mind if I could squeeze into a bit of your time? I'm afraid that I may have something seriously wrong in here." He picked up his suitcase looking very ready to get started.

TrashRabbit TrashRabbit
 
JJ Repairs
Zer0 Zer0

JJ looked as him pleadingly and said, "Nobody here but me and you pal," He said doing his best to sound natural, "If there was something seriously wrong, you'd know. trust me."

From the back room came the tell tale chink-chook-wiz-tripple click of an ECE tin appendage engaging. All six rotors had to be aligned and clamped before the unit would engage, so while limbs were mostly interchangeable swapping them required special tools. It was a sound most tin men older than recall dates knew intimately.
 
The Panhead
Two stars to the right, and straight on 'til morning.
Panhead didn't fly often, and this flight was a bit different. Propelled by a laser he took to the face, rather than the Stars he installed into himself. In serious danger, but headed to greater threats instead of escaping. Falling onto his back, instead of landing on his feet. But Panhead had what he wanted: The man's tether. If this hand had the same laser weapon inside, he'd keep it, too. But for now, there was one laser he knew about with an unknown amount of shots, and it had removed a good chunk of his head. An eye, an ear, and a few good bits of hardware were gone. His cryfi visor was destroyed as well, the halves falling away from him. Panhead liked to think there weren't many in Oz who'd survive a serious fight with him, and less who'd win. This man was definitely a winner. And Panhead didn't fight losing battles. So he'd run.

He scrambled to his feet and started to run. The Mallcops were on his heels quick though, and had on Ozymandias colors. If they didn't figure out it was him, their superiors would remember the name Panhead. Fuck. He ran fast, leaving the mall for the alleys, but the cops actually cornered him.

"Freeze!"
"Don't move!"
"Hands in the air!"
"... In the air, you say?"

He only had one way out, and he was glad that he got to snark those stupid Ozcops as he hit the Stars. His hoodie was already burnt by that laser, and now the rest of his clothing was burnt away by the hovercar bits and bobs that were lifting him up, bringing him airborne, and letting him fly away. He flew fast as he could, and aimed for the West end. Then, he dove down only a block from the barrier, sure that the cops didn't see him. Which is when he went underground and started going eastward. It would take hours to get anywhere worthwhile, but at least he'd have thrown off the cops for a while. Maybe he'd find some less fortunate tins than he down here to salvage. He didn't much like the idea of salvaging his own kind, but he'd done it before. Most of the dead ones didn't have their chips anymore because some desperate fools took 'em and sold 'em for quick cash. The few that did, he swore to give new bodies... He'd yet to be able to keep those promises. Maybe some day.
 
- Cheshire Le Grin -
"JJ Repairs "

"Good." said Mr. Le Grin distractedly, opening his briefcase and taking out a pen and paper, as though not noticing or ignoring the pleading tone of JJ's voice. "I'm going to need this to be quick but thorough." he wrote something. "I don't want to be more than an hour late for work." he passed him the paper, and in an elegant loopy handwriting it said:

'If you are in danger, get out of the shop.'

"They pay me tips and not a proper wage like the other staff, and I'm still expected to give the same amount of work." he huffed, taking out a brick and putting it on the counter. "Don't touch that, leave it there --- sigh, such a unfair treatment of employees, but the ladies are nice." he stooped, grabbing a handful of dirt from under one of the lower milk crate and pocketing it.

Cheshire Le Grin removed his suit vest, holding it over his shoulders, and in a fluid movement, whether JJ was in danger or not, he parted the curtain and strode inside.

TrashRabbit TrashRabbit
 
Al-Sim HQ
CkSmalling CkSmalling
It wasn't so much an open secret as a safe assumption that the boss' receptionist could kill a man with only his shalacked gold nails. He was elegant and beautiful in way that begged for destruction to follow. But for all anyone had ever heard or seen Kariuki never ran any other jobs. They wore all white and an alarming amount of real gold.
He looked at King like was disappointed, "Boss is at lunch with Brynmor," He said, mentioning the CEO of Ozymandias Power by his first name. "You get our memo- you just here to make sure the memo's real? It is. But don't go waving it around. The monkey is in the air so to speak- we're about to find ourselves in between contractors. You're an old timer, you know what that was like back in the days. The boss thinks it was all Ozymandias, but that don't leave this room, okay sweets? We got no proof-"
Kariuki talked with their hands eccentrically tapping the desk with his nails for emphasis and gesturing between them and around them as they spoke. And in one of those graceful motions they shot a data cache to his personal tether. The entire police report landed neatly in his inbox. The cause of death, which had not been in the papers was a single stab wound to the base of the throat. Having been with Al-Sim as long as you have, you've seen this before and you know Kariuki and the Boss aren't wrong to suspect Ozymandias of the hit when their maine Agent is known to execute in exactly that manner.

JJ Repairs
Zer0 Zer0
JJ thought about saying something, but upon seeing Le Grin go for the curtain he fled. The chime on the glass shop door coinciding with Le Grin throwing back the curtain. He's have come face to face with a gun- if he was taller. As it was the Tin in the burnt suit and the mask startled, taking precious seconds to re-aim. As if a small cat shaped tin was honestly the last he expected and unnerved him in ways corporate ghosts didn't often feel unnerved. In that fleeting moment you have a chance to take him by surprise, what do you do?
 
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Lewis

The Dorothy rubbed his cheeks as he sat up very straight, trying to avoid slipping back into the embrace of sleep. He decided to flip through the after frames, and waved his hand, the video player slid through all the black frames.

He advanced a few frames at a time, the sight of his old CEO's body making his stomach uneasy, no matter how deeply he analyzed it or how many times he saw it.

He exhaled deeply and swallowed the spit that was pooling in his mouth. He opened his eyes back up, for he had closed them. Something seemed out of place, some sense he didn't quite know where he'd gotten had activated and was telling him "look closer!"

And then he did, and he saw what he hadn't seen before, sleep deprived as he was.

In the door there was an odd reflection, one that probably shouldn't be there. He leaned forward and the video player zoomed in on his point of interest.

It was a face! It looked to be that of a scarecrow, but he wasn't sure yet. He cut out the image and saved it as a file, closing the video player for now and running it through an image editing program. He sat there for thirty minutes, altering and enhancing and making sure that the image would be properly read. He was satisfied with his alterations and sent it off to his facial recognition software. A mix of original and ripped code that he had found in cry-fi. He halved the software and placed it on the right side of his screen.

He halved the screen on his display and shoved it off over to the right. He had another idea, and he accessed his companies files, pulling up the time clock from that night, specifically the scarecrow workers. There were six, and one appeared to be a janitor, probably the janitor Evvamene had been arguing with before the feed cut out. That same janitor hadn't been to work since that night. He pulled up the janitors address and ID, confident that pursuing him would at least reveal something. If not directly information, then indirectly by eliminating his other options.

A pleasant beep came from the facial recognition software, although it was slightly muted by the window not being in focus. Apparently, Lewis found out while switching back to it, the janitor that night had come up with a >75% match.

The way Lewis saw this, finding out more about the janitor could lead to one of three things:

1. He would find out the scarecrow was the assassin- unlikely but plausible. An Occam's Razor answer, but not a particularly good one.
2. The scarecrow would have seen something that in turn Lewis could learn- fairly likely.
3. The scarecrow had been killed, and Lewis would be closer to his true target- also fairly possible.

There was also the chance that the assassin had been so good the janitor saw nothing, or that he had seen something but been paid off, but those both seemed a little bit more unlikely. Perhaps he would check if the janitor had gotten any recent influx of money, but first he would check his other theories.

He stood up from the couch and stretched, happy with his findings for now. He grabbed his work clothes and changed into them, but also grabbed his hacker-y break-in gadgets from the wall panel they were hidden behind. He could just stuff them in his bag unless he needed them, he reasoned. The janitor's house was just four blocks away, so he could walk. He grabbed his bag and pulled out his keys, unlocking his door. He pulled it open and before he stepped through, he took in his hat rack that stood to the side off the door. He was feeling formal today, and he grabbed a plain black bowler hat. That would work fine.

He stepped through the door and locked it behind him, yawning again. Today would probably end up being another long one.
 
Sev​

Ajax Atlantis was listed as a janitor, but with the information he seemed to have access to, that felt wrong. Not that janitors wouldn't know things--but they usually didn't talk to anybody important about it. Sev frowned and went hunting for more of Ajax Atlantis on the wider cryfi.

They found a dating profile, and immediately had regrets. He was a pansexual looking for "friends and one night stands," and his profile was sloppy, sloppy, and Sev idly wondered if anyone actually wanted to sleep with him after reading through the profile.

Ajax Atlantis was a very tan, very blond, very beefy guy in his picture, posed badly in front of a window onto a street that looked vaguely familiar to Sev, with cherry red robot hands. He liked the color red, and dogs, and "long walks on the beach (seriously)". Sev was very sure he wasn't actually a janitor. That was a job for scarecrows and tinmen, and Ajax was not. He might be a dorothy though--something about the eyes and the tan, and the way he tacked on that seriously after long walks on the beach. A dorothy, and possibly an improperly processed one at that.

What was going on at ECE?

Ajax had put his number up on the site, and Sev hesitated. He could take what he had and bring it to Jameson, or one of the real journalists--but they were all busy, and this was still only half a story.

[Hey,] he dmed Ajax. [My name's 7. I had some questions about ECE, if you're not busy?]
 
Poppin's Neighbor Hood
Camden Camden

The neighbor hood was cutesy, with shrubs and multistory pastel homes- not apartments. Homes. The artificial sky here looked like a candy coated sunset or sunrise more often than not. It was pleseant; the Oz dream even, to live some place like this. The home Lewis's deduction brought him to was blue, with several bycycles parked just inside the fence, but also locked up for extra measure. It had two floors and plenty of windows. A cucumber plant on the porch was flowering. There were no outward signs of life. The fence surounded the smalll home fully and closer inspection would find an uneventful back yard. This is a decadent place to house the janitors, but then again all of ECE's company housing in this district so where else would they put them?


Ajax Atlantis
wickedlittlecritta wickedlittlecritta

Ajax Antlantis was having a terrible day. And after jumping over a railing and dipping into a bustling street market he popped his hood up and pretended to be very interested in the zoomer parts spread out on the seller table. One armed. His main tether stolen. No data. He almost startled when his left hand chirped. He checked the ping on his secondary cryfi tether. The one he only used for hook ups and dealers. this sounded like so obvious a trap, that it either wasn't or it was in fact just a really bad trap. It was a good thing, he was great at playing stupid when he wasn't also actually being stupid.
[Well I'm just a janitor, but shoot.]
 
Pan Head
Fresh scars.
Panhead thought about going all the way to the other edge of the district. Maybe he'd even go in, hide out in the East end for a day. But he was too recognizable right now. He'd head to the nearest LC hideout. There was one a few blocks over, he just had to maneuver through some areas that were definitely supposed to be clear of junk, but definitely had lots of junk in them. Someone clearly lived down here at one point, but where they were now was a mystery. But clearly, they left their 'Wife' at home whenever they vanished. It was some kind of mannequin, one that was WAY too poseable, and had... Modifications. But the eye-catcher was the head: It was a tin head, his model, his year. The skin was supposed to be a natural color, but it was some garish pink, bordering on sunburnt red. The hair was blonde, pale bordering on bleached. The eyes were, thankfully, his same blue. Removing it was no big deal, but finding it was almost a damn miracle. He thought he'd have to shop for a whole week to find some low-quality aftermarket parts, or settle for kitbashing another model's bits into place. He didn't mind off-color, if it was a perfect fit.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, just scrambling around in the sewers, lifting the right manhole cover at the right time, and crawling in through a window. He had to flash his LC insignia at the guard there (Which was on the underside of one of his chest plates, lasered into the metal itself) and he was in. It wasn't long before he was sitting in front of a mirror, disassembling his face. It went fairly smoothly, the tools easily getting rid of what was left of that half before he began disassembling the other face. No crystal chip, as you'd expect with a head in a junk den. Installing the new eye was the rough part, but it was done. And as he looked out of that new eye, he spotted the Red Left Hand. He picked it up, instinctively looking at the jointwork... Yes... This really was a surface man's hand: Plug and Play so you could replace it easily if it broke, standardized fittings so any manufacturer could relimb you... Right, criminals always had at least one of these, because so many got caught and had a limb removed by the Auths! He actually laughed a little... Then the rest slid away. This wasn't an Oz-built hand. He inspected it damn closely, opening the whole thing up to get a sense for it, and it was damn rugged. Easy parts. The crystal at its core was to be expected of a Cryfi device, but it looked... Wrong. Crystals were blue-green. This was pearly pink. His first thought was that something had been done to it, that it was altered... Then his thoughts turned away from that possibility. This wasn't an Oz-built hand. Why would the crystal be an Oz crystal? Whether it was the same kind turned pink by radiation, or a completely different varietal, Pan was certain this crystal, and the hand it was attached to, came from above. And the laser was likely tied to it, given that it was a similar pink. A red fist... A red left hand... Something about that clicked. Something about revolution, the working class rising up... He couldn't remember it all clearly. But it was a symbol. A powerful one. He would have this hand. Part of him felt like this symbol wasn't a good one, but he was a figure to be feared already, what did it matter?

Eventually, everything was installed, and he stood before the mirror, naked. Being a worker tin, he didn't have any privates to hide, or modesty left. The pink skin and small patch of blonde hair on the one side of his head reminded him of a burn scar. The red left hand was a symbol of Rebellion, of the low rising up against their oppressors. The weapons spoke of his clear intent. The dagger made from scrap metal was already something of a symbol unto itself. He saw a leader in that mirror. A machine to be feared by the megacorporations. A man who would free his people. He once said his looks didn't matter much. Seeing himself in the mirror, he was proud. Now, it was time to charge up, investigate the files on that hitman's tether, and maybe tell LC what he'd been up to... He doubted they'd be pleased that he did this without their say-so.
 
While on the bus Eden hade been going through the list and things that her stepmother gave her to take care. She noticed that her stepmother had handed her some VIP invitation to the club grand reopening tonight with some names on them. These were the people she had failed to invite and lucky for Eden, she happen to find one with Ambroise name on it. This would come in handy. Once the bus had made it to her stop she got off and headed straight for the school Now Eden figured that it might be hard to get much information. But she had a plan of course she just hoped it worked. If she couldn't get a lot of information now she could always get it tonight after the man has had a few drinks of course, but she would try to get as much as she could now. When she got inside she slightly deflated at the sign she saw. office visits by appointment only. Oh come one! she thought to herself. She took a look around and noticed secretary and a what she guessed to be a intern. Eden walked up to the secretary. "Excuse me I'm here to see Mr. Diggs. I understand it's appointment only but I have something I'm supposed to give him personally." As she waited for the woman's response. She glanced over at the man and noticed the scowl on his face. "Having trouble there?"
TrashRabbit TrashRabbit
 
Ambroise Diggs

"theoretical Crystal ionization isn't easy," He complained looking up at her from his work- but he was cut off by the secretaries stern look.
The pink haired secretary looked at Eden and the envelope and made an important judgment call- She hit a button on her halo pad and said; "Boss you got another package here," She said eyeing Eden like this happened often.
"Send them in, send them," Came the older gentleman's reply.
The secretary gestured at the door. With in, Ambroise stood staring down the largest chunk of of the crystal core Eden had ever seen- except it couldn't be. It was the wrong color.
"Hello M'dear," He said. He must be somewhere in his sixties. Taking a second look at her, he seemed confused. "You're not the package I was expecting, what brings you here?"
animegirl20 animegirl20
 
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- Cheshire Le Grin -
"JJ Repairs "

A sudden full arm swipe of the briefcase to attempt to knock the gun off the assassin's hand --- argh, he missed! --- followed by a throw of his vest to the face to attempt to blind him for a moment. Orange eyes wide in fear, Mr. Le Grin looked like a deer in headlights, ears folded back in surprise. "Good gods, man, are you crazy?!" he yelled angrily.

In that split second, he scanned the room for something of value for Lizetko to steal --- the tether! But he should probably go for the gun first. His momentum, though, carried him forward and he cannot attempt to grab the gun in time. So, going with the spin from his swipe, he brought the briefcase full circle and smashed it against the assassin's knee.

TrashRabbit TrashRabbit
 
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Sev

[No, you're not,] Sev sent. [ECE janitors are scarecrows, batch 19489. Which you are not. I've seen your Tinder profile pics. Your profile is atrocious, btw. But anyway. I'm with Galinda and Mombi. What do you know about ruby slipper?]
 

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