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Futuristic CYBERPUNK: Archangel - ACT I: Start the Fire

Diego “Cazador” Murrieta
Nyx’s Warehouse, Watson // ”What’s in the bag?!”
Smirking at Rabbit with an idle nibble on his lip, Diego simply shook his head in a slow but sure agreement. Edgerunners rarely had the luxury of growing old, but those that did were cut of a particular cloth that garnered some respect. Whatever Abuela wanted, Abuela got. It was what made her such a fine Fixer in the biz. A touch of pink prickled darkly at the tips of Diego’s ears, and he was thankful for the low light in the place.

Quirking an eyebrow at Amelie, Diego gave her a slow nod, apparently approving of her alcohol tastes. “Nobody drinks vodka for the taste, chica,” he said with a chuckle and a puff of his cigarette. The cobalt gray smoke slithered languidly from his lips to lang lazily in the still air. A faint creaking drew his attention, spying the young woman - girl? Whomever they were, they were packing iron about as thick around as their wrist, and Diego had to respect the choice. While Diego didn’t reach for his gun in turn, one hand curled around the handles of his carryall as his weight shifted to balance on the balls of his feet. He had been screwed before.

Moving through the musty interior of the warehouse, Diego would occasionally tilt, lean, and shimmy to fit through some of the tighter spaces in the corrugated labyrinth. He moved with a predatory gait, his eyes always clearing corners and cutting the pie as they traversed the interior. Flashing a glance to the catwalks overhead, he chewed on the smoldering nub of his cigarette with a low grumble deep in his chest. His hands flexed on their own accord, as if to limber up his knuckles in the anticipation of trouble.

Seeing the elevator, Diego snorted and snuffed his smoke under a boot heel, “Oye, this just keeps getting better…” he said with a wry chagrin coating his words like venom. Moving to the back wall of the elevator, Diego crossed his arms over his barrel chest, feeling the reassuring bulk of his AMT against his hand. The Nomad was statuesque for the most part; unmoving except for the faintest bounce to one leg. Some part of him was expecting Maelstrom gangoons to burst in and drop grenades at their feet, and the growing bloom and glare of neon wasn’t calming his nerves.

The elevator doors opened to a chic little lair. All it needed was the electronic music to go along with the robotic people inside. Diego immediately clocked the man with the thistledown hair, nodding at him with his chin in the usual Santo Domingo greeting.

One needed to keep their hands free if manners didn’t cut it.

Seeing Nyx as she rose from her netrunning chair like some horror-BD mummy, Diego curled his tongue against the roof of his mouth as the borg’s voice crawled over his skin like a living, writhing thing. With the multi-eye optics glaring red and unblinking, Diego quashed the invasive thought that associated Maelstromers with spiders that needed squashing.

She’s ex-Maelstrom. She’s a good borg-fucker, Diego thought to himself, feeling a cold bead of sweat down his back and a falling sense in his gut when she said to offer up their meal tickets.

Mierda, I got no fuckin’ clue! Diego cursed at himself, grinding his teeth as he watched the others bring forth their tokens, some with flare and flourish, others with a business-like matter-of-factness about it. Should he try and take a peek in the duffel and see? No, there were eyes all over the place.

Diego’s fingers flexed again, blunt nails fretting at the thick calluses of his palm. He had been told to pick up the dead drop sight unseen, and he’d done exactly that. He wasn’t going to fuck it up at the tail-end. That was probably what Nyx was testing, the clever little chromejunkie…

Realizing it was his turn, Diego cleared his throat as he separated himself from the arranged Edgerunners, setting down the carryall with the rest of the goods the others had brought.

“Pulled right from under 6th Street’s noses, a mystery gift from everyone’s favorite NUSA-rejects,” Diego said, unzipping the carryall to reveal an apparatus of white chrome, polymer, and thick industrial plastic. Roughly the size of a household coffeemaker, it had medical hoses connecting it to a rolled up sheath of plastic about the size of a sleeping bag. A canister of viscous aquamarine liquid sat in the machine, which appeared to have the Trauma Team logo scraped off.

“One, ah…” Diego leaned this way and that, until he found a label on the goddamn thing. “MedTech cryopump with three extra canisters of… science goo,” Diego said with a shrug, not finishing as strongly as he would have liked, but he knew those things weren’t cheap. He could trade an Arch for one of those! Fucking figures!

Standing up and dusting off the knees of his pants, Diego found a space on one of the couches and helped himself, propping one foot on a nearby table with a loud thud,

Hola, I’m Cazador, Solo with the Aldecaldos. If it's hot ‘n heavy, guzzles CHOOH2 or spits lead, it’s in my wheelhouse. Guessin’ I’m one of the people here for when things go FUBAR,” he said, nodding to Vi, being the other visible powerhouse in the room. She brought actual fucking eyeballs, after all.

 
Nyx
UNDISCLOSED WAREHOUSE, NORTHSIDE, WATSON, NIGHT CITY
It was impossible to tell what Nyx was thinking as people revealed what ridiculous item they’d brought to the little party they were having. She didn’t move an inch in reaction to any of them, and obviously her eyes didn’t move at all either. She only stood up and leaned against her netrunning chair as Diego revealed his find last.

“I appreciate the lengths you all took in order to pick up these… artifacts. I assure you they’re of great interest to me.”

It was difficult to tell whether she was being serious or not, her voice a modulated, coying hum, her multiple red eyes as disconcerting as ever.

“Most importantly, everyone has shown me how they handle requests. I suppose we should move on then.”

All the lights in the room dimmed simultaneously, leaving only the red glow of the flickering monitors behind Nyx.

“We’re after an AI.”

The monitors all changed to different graphics, representing maps, profiles of people, satellite imagery of locations, but the monitors closer to the center all formed a large schematic layout of a warehouse. From the looks of it, it was very heavily guarded.

“Of course, it’s illegal for a demon to be out of its chains and out in the world. NetWatch makes sure of that with their castles of black and knights of metal, but this one is hiding somewhere. Where, that’s what we need to find.”

An image of a pale man with outlandish glasses and a decidedly unnerving smile now dominated the monitors, overlaid across the schema.

“Faust. You deal with demons, you go to the experienced. He’s our guide through hell, but he knows to extract a price himself. He wants a prize in this warehouse, something he was willing to trade ambrosia for: information.”

The picture disappeared, and it returned to the warehouse.

“A caged bird. Two wings, and a head in the center.” The monitors highlighted two distinct storage units, as well as what appeared to be a smaller building in the center meant for administrative purposes.

“We’re after a feather on the east wing, the 37th one. Pluck it, and leave. How we get to it, I don’t care. Kill the bird, chop off its head, cut its wings, that’s for everyone to decide.”

And just like that, the presentation was over. The lights went back to normal, and the monitors switched to black.

“For now, consider this your new home. You may stay as long as you like. I’m sure Ares would’ve liked the lot of you breathing some life into this place. If you have any questions, ask Atara, whom you’ve already met,” Atara gave a small nod to the group, “...or Yudai over there.”

The man with the silver ponytail waved lazily from his spot on the couch.

“Anyway, I suppose we should celebrate this occasion. Bar’s open, if anyone is interested.”
Cadborosa Cadborosa (Salem) ▽ StormWolf StormWolf (Diego) ▽ Steve Jobs Steve Jobs (Vaitiare) ▽ Jealousy Jealousy (Amelie) ▽ @RikuXIII (Naomi) ▽ Saavedra Saavedra (Graye)
 
Vance
777TH STREET AUTO SHOP, ARROYO, SANTO DOMINGO, NIGHT CITY
Vance eyed the case that was being handed to him for a moment as if he didn’t remember why he’d asked for it, then took on a wolfish smile and took it by the handle. He set it down on a nearby work table and gave it a spin so that the electronic lock was facing him, and as it slid to a halt he whipped out a Liberty from a concealed holster and shot the lock point blank.

“Always feels good breaking ‘Saka’s stuff.”

He opened the case and turned it towards the rest of the group. Inside were stacks of what appeared to be individual chips, though each had a series of numbers and designations on small screens.

“Untraceable chops. Suppose a couple of these should cover payments for the time being?” Vance nodded towards the behemoth of a man.

He walked over to where Eve was standing and took the kitten from her, before getting down on one knee and letting it jump from his hands to the ground.

“Suppose you signed for the right job, then.”

Straightening back up, the pistol in his hand rang out one more time.

“Fuck that guy and his kitty.”

Vance spun the pistol in his hand and let it slide back into place in its holster.

"Oi Luna! Come clean this mess up for me."

An earsplitting shout immediately resounded from within the auto shop.

"CLEAN YOUR OWN FUCKIN' MESS VANCE!"

"It was a joke! C'mon out and meet our new crew. Tell Michael to get off his ass too."

There was a series of irritated grumblings as a very cross, very tomboyish figure stormed out of the building. She stopped at the mangled mess of a kitten that the high-caliber round had created, and it only took her a moment to comprehend before she whirled off to the side and unwittingly ejected the contents of her stomach. Vance laughed.

"You'd think she hadn't seen things hundreds of times worse. Luna, everyone. Joytoy, gun buff, and…"

He didn't quite get to finish that sentence as a fist smashed into his left cheek with sufficient force to cause him to stumble a couple steps. It was someone else’s turn to laugh as a darker skinned man with wild hair walked in. He had a wicked grin on his face.

La hija del diablo, he meant to say. Ain’t that right, Vance?”

Luna shook her knuckle out before crossing her arms and leaning hard on the hood of some nearby car, causing it to shake as a scowl set over her face. She gave Michael the bird. Vance rubbed the side of his own face.

“Alright, let’s cut to the chase. Got a gig from a potential choom, and someone I want to be chill with. Gonna involve breaking into a corpo warehouse, crawlin' with guards, yadda yadda. Any questions?"

He didn't even wait a second as he strolled over back to the van.

"Actually, don't really give a damn. Y'all signed up already. Here's to turning a whole lotta corpses to corpses tomorrow!"

Vance hauled a large cooler out of the van and opened it up to reveal about every kind of alcohol possible.
Zerulu Zerulu (Kade) ▽ @DonutCRY (Jin) ▽ Inb4Cloaker Inb4Cloaker (John) ▽ LuckyOuie LuckyOuie (Kali) ▽ Mamori23 Mamori23 (Eve)
 
KALI LIWANAG ♡
SHORT-CIRCED
After Kali had boasted about her achievement against Kang Tao, she was surprised in the reaction Vance had given her… or completely lack thereof.

She had thought a corpo hating war veteran would be interested in hearing AVs explode out in the skies like fireworks, much more be pleased about it.

Vance had given a response to every member who answered his question, all but Kali. He particularly ignored every sound produced from Kali's loud mouth.

It left the egotistical netrunner confused. "Uh, hello?" Kali called out to Vance as if they were on a choppy holo. "What about my stuff, I had to--"

Kali was ready to give him an in depth rundown on how she struck the AVs through Cyberspace. But after Vance shot the Arasaka case’s lock to open, all those thoughts dissipated into thin air.

“Ooooh…” She uttered. Delight was obvious in her voice as her pitch made a crescendo.

Head tilted slightly to the side, she had peered at what was inside the package. Credchips. Kali's eyes had sparkled. She made a satisfied humm. They'd hear no more complaints from her. The potential Eddies were enough to shut her up. What was I about to say?

Suddenly she forgot Vance's disregard of her.

"Nice work, choom!" She winked at the katana-wielding man. It must have taken hard work to retrieve this amount of gold.


After Eve had given her answer -the usual influential rocker boy type of answer- she took a cat out of her jacket. Kali was surprised not to have seen it earlier. She was wondering what exactly was the bulge she felt when she nudged Eve during earlier conversations. Now, she knew.

Letting the cat walk towards Vance, she assumed they had always wanted this Hulk guys' cat.
"Uh… Are you guys gonna keep that? If I remember correctly, NC charges 1k eds per month on pet tax.” She butted in somewhere while Vance talked.

Then Vance spun the weapon in his hand and pointed it at the cat, and Kali feared the worse.

"Fuck that guy and his kitty."

Cat blood spattered on the ground and some reached their way to Kali's white shoes. She instinctively raised her hands out of shock and disgust.

"Dude, what the fuck? You short-circed? What did you do that for?!"

Fixed at the cat that was left lying on the ground, it took a moment for Kali to be able to look up, first she turned to Eve to see her reaction. The fact that Eve kept this pet alive from a mission must have meant something.

She heard Vance call out more of his people. One of them was another mox, Luna, it would've interested Kali, but her mind was somewhere else.

Her head turned to a tall figure approaching Vance. She saw the golden eyed merc attempting to strike a kick at him. Had it landed, Kali would have just watched it all unfold. The katana-wielding man shared the same concern with her, but his reaction was more gewalt.

Had the katana-wielding man's speech been left undisturbed, Kali would have agreed with him. To flatline a cat for the sake of flatlining, Vance was indeed scum. Kali shook her head.

"Yeah. You're a goddamn yono, you know that?"
 
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Kade De León
Daydreaming of dead cats

The gang- errr, the crew was all together.

Kade was never too aware of his appearances at even the best of times. He usually took solo jobs, with his reward transferred digitally, with no need for face-to-face. His tattered clothes and poor appearance were never brought into question then, though with an actual crew, people you'd work with regularly, maybe it was time to shape up and freshen up. A bounceback from the astutely dressed gentleman with a katana would be a good place to start. He shared a nod with the man before injecting it into himself, and a bounceback was a luxury Kade never afforded, not due to financial constraints. He just never felt the need to. But after that first push? Maybe he should indulge himself a bit more regularly.

For a moment, Kade experienced true clarity. The first person to grab his attention was Kali;

“The name's Kali, but you probably know me as the hotshot netrunner… Kaliente. "

"I've- I've never heard of a Kali. Or a hotshot netrunner called Kaliente." A smirk rose across his face, he wasn't lying, and he knew his ignorance of who she was would probably piss her off more than humble her.

“BROTHER KADE, IT MIGHT BE WISE TO SEEK OUT MEDICAL AID SOON. ALSO, ARMOR UP. IT HELPS.”

He shook the now-used bounceback, "Medical attention received. As for armour, pffft, cmon, how else do you expect me to keep up with your rides?" He half-joked, beckoning to some of the sweet rides they had pulled up in.

The moment of clarity felt like it would last forever. Until it didn't. It seemed something in his nervous system was fighting it, purging itself of whatever the bounceback had injected into him. A full neural reset. From the outside, it'd just appear he was standing there.... menacingly. He had subconsciously missed Vance's initial introduction and, in turn, his question about what they wanted etc etc, stuff you'd hear in a job interview.

Luckily, or rather unluckily, Kade had regained cognitive awareness to see his new boss put down a cat.

'I've missed something,' Kade thought to himself. It seemed his new boss would rival even himself on the unhinged scale. It still wasn't Kade's turn to interject, however, as the suited man who had passed him a bounceback from early seemed to stand up to Vance. Seeing if his challenge succeeded, Kade would have to intervene.

A sigh left his mouth as he adjusted his posture, "People, people, people" The cybernetics along his arm started to shift, "We can't get at each other's throats just yet" It almost started to look like his arm was falling apart, wires becoming exposed, "And as much as that speech was moving, and as much as we- I greatly appreciate the bounceback," just before it seemed like his arm had dismantled, it bounced back to life, two blades on either arm becoming exposed. Mantis Blades. "I really can't be having you killing him until I get paid." This was Night City, not a posh daycare in Tokyo, and it wasn't time to let emotions boil over, over spilt milk or cat guts in this case.

 
Eve Marlowe
PACIFICA, WATSON, ARROYO | Pour One Out

There were a couple of low expectations crossing the rocker's mind.

She expected the man to scoff—he looked like the type to blow dead air at the first misspelling of his breakfast, or drink. She considered him to blow her off too, siding with some comment she’d likely return back with a bite of her tongue. What Eve did not expect was the fucker to take the cat and blow its head off. It showed on her face, shades hiding the raised brow with a locked jaw frozen for a half a second.

The blood debt she thought was paid over by Hulk’s body, what the fuck a cat’s blood going do to the scaling? Tip it an inch? The drugs were winding down in her system, catching up and slowing down in pace while Vance went on to pop the car open and folks started walking in a few numbers. A familiar one, green hair, tomboyish build, getting right to the point of the matter with a solid fist on the Vance cheeks giving the rocker back a dark, dry snicker.

Bitch he’s still breathing, you lost your edge Luna?

Eve said, voice knocked a turn meaningful on her question watching another one walk onto the scene. She remembers Luna rocked with this crew, but the dark one didn’t ring any bells. He had wild hair and a wicked smile, looking like another road boy fitting for a crew like this.

A crew she was still sure to join? A brief question raised and shared among a few, with Mr.Broody taking the first chance on enacting feline justice with a kick on Vance. Moody and a kitten lover, real swooning material, Eve thought, catching Kali join with jabs. She reserved any added info on said kittens actual name, watching while she walked over to grab one of the harder bottles from the cooler. A crimson shade, bright and shining against the sun’s rays reflected beautifully off the dead cats mangled body.

Then Kade stepped in.

She knocked her drink back down her throat, before pouring a bit over near the little guy's body in a small memorial. A whole ten minutes in, and the crew already had blood spilled and another ready to jump for his money. This ship was christened for great things, the rocker sardonically laughed at the threat, turning a wide smile at mantias blades popped and ready to slice.

You often pop it out on the first draw? Damn, a bit of a disappointment for a guy showing up bleeding.

She quipped, turning those shaded eyes over to Vance. “I had some nice little thoughts about having that kitten fat on some noodles at my place, Vance. You said Hulk's body, what that pussy do to you? Remind you of things you missed ‘cuz fuck I can see why its on short supply.” Eve asked, draining more down from the bottle before her lips cleared,"Starting off real sweetly, and then drop a gig. I like the sounds of this party already."

 
Amélie Tetta
Early evening, Watson, Nyx´ Warehouse


Amélie took a moment to commit each individuals name to memory, observing with genuine curiosity as each stepped forward to present their stolen item along with a short introduction of names. She remained quiet while she observed with interest, watching first as Vi produced those Kiroshi optics before Magpie brought a whole safe without even knowing what was inside. Then there was Diego who rather comically didn't appear to know what it was he was carrying as he seemed to be searching out a label from the items inside the bag. In retrospect she supposed getting an old computer mouse could have been worse, even if the security around the building she'd gotten it from had been fairly tight.

Once the group had finished giving over their collected items her attention shifted away as the lights in the room began to fade and Nyx began giving details for what would undoubtedly be their first gig together. Though It didn't take long for her eyebrows to furrow after her eyes moved over to the monitors, listening while attempting to take in as much of the visually available information that she could. There was a lot to go through just at a glance, from the maps and floor plans down to the level of opposition and the key individuals involved. There was enough detail here that it would take more than an evening to learn everything they needed to know and as someone who specialised in infiltration she knew all too well the amount of prep work needed was decent if you expected to succeed.

Entrances, exits, security doors, cameras and patrol schedules if there even was one. All these pieces factored in equal importance for the overall information they would need to successfully klept an item with the minimal amount of confrontation. Then again she supposed they could just opt to assault the place, but then would Vi and Diego as their two heavy hitters be able to handle that with the rest of them supporting on the side.

While giving these details some more thought, Amélie reached into the left inside pocket of her jacket and removed a lollipop... or a sucker as she'd heard the southern Americans call it before. She unwrapped the spherical hard candy before popping it between her lips, allowing the stick to protrude out to the side as she listened to the rest of the details. A heavily guarded warehouse with maps, floor plan schematics and names, it was all there they just needed to formulate a plan to get inside and get out again without paying a heavy price for it. Amélie grimaced as the hard candy revealed an unpleasant lime flavour, easily the worst of the bunch she'd bought as a distraction from cigarettes.

As the brief concluded she rolled the lolly to the side with her tongue, paying some extra thought to how they might get the job done before deciding maybe it was a good idea to get more acquainted with the details. So without a word she turned and made her way directly over towards Atara, deciding the bar could wait as she approached the woman with her first and most important question. "Hey, is there any way I can get a copy of all those files? I'd like to run a fine comb through them before putting a plan together I can pitch to the group." Amélie had mentioned already that infiltration was her speciality, so this gig seemed to fall well within her ballpark as far as getting inside was concerned.

 
Vaitiaré Herschel
Nyx's Hideout, Watson, Night City.

A safe. Then a duffel bag of mystery. Nyx certainly knew how to pick her prizes and her people. Vi returned Diego's nod with one of her own, eyes lingering on his chrome. Though she had her own fair share of cybernetics most of them were meant for hard labor than combat. The VetSmarts weren't doing any more for her than flesh and blood save for the random malfunctions and dulled sensations. If every gig was going to be this dangerous then she'd need tougher stuff. Weapons, prosthetics, transport, everything needed an upgrade...after she paid the bills.

She wouldn't want her family to fall behind because she wanted some new chrome right?

Vaitiare turned her attention to the screen as Nyx began her presentation, burning the blueprints into her mind. Behind Nyx's metaphors, the layout was fairly simple: a large warehouse that housed several storage units as well as a smaller office in the center. It wasn't too different from the bases that her old co-workers delivered to, save for the fact that they'd be taking rather than giving. Even the people of interest felt fairly generic, save for Faust. It felt a bit on the nose for Nyx to risk her crew's lives in exchange for some information, but Vi had already surrendered her soul the moment she stepped into the warehouse. What did it matter if Nyx had them working for a devil or an angel? She continued listening to the other woman's instructions, holding back the frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"For now, consider this your new home. You may stay as long as you like. I’m sure Ares would’ve liked the lot of you breathing some life into this place. If you have any questions, ask Atara, whom you’ve already met or Yudai over there. Anyway, I suppose we should celebrate this occasion. Bar’s open, if anyone is interested,” Nyx announced.

Vaitiare relaxed her shoulders and approached the bar, walking around the counter to grab a beer from the fridge. She didn't want to think about how ill-suited most of them were to stealth or the fact that they'd be outmanned or outgunned. She didn't want to think about how much easier their mission could be if she decided to move here rather than drive back and forth from her home. She just wanted to bask in the newness of the crew before the dread set in.

"Cheers to a new team," she said before raising an open bottle.

 
Salem Fields
NYX' WAREHOUSE, WATSON, NIGHT CITY

At this point, Salem couldn't tell if Nyx was even human. She was a statue with no ticks, no mannerisms, just an eerie lack of movement. It sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't tell if her finally moving had calmed his nerves or made them worse. Salem awkwardly shifted, rubbing his left arm, unsure of what was next and what exactly he had willfully entered.

Her voice sounded just as eerily void of humanity with a humming that one would hear from the lights in a sketchy ripper docs office. Salem could not tell if she was being serious, making a joke, or just sarcastic. It had to be on purpose. The available tech is relatively easy to get a hold of, and a defective model wouldn't be too hard to replace or fix if it was humming, so it must be a purposeful choice. He messed with his fingernails for a moment before stumbling upon the idea that she could be trying to avoid making meaningful relations, Salem hadn't really thought about it, but Nyx did lose a lot only a month ago. Aries and the other members of their crew. Till now, Salem hadn't really thought of them, just another few dead bodies in Night city, nothing new there. Yet, that could've really affected this netrunner. Salem knows that after his brother's death, he just wanted to wall himself up in their house and never leave, never wanting to experience that feeling again. Though, he figured he might simply be projecting. Salem merely shook his head, figuring he was being an assumptive jerk right now who was making a mountain of a molehill when it's nothing that deep, and she just likes that damn style. Plus, it's really none of your business, is it, Salem? After ridiculing himself, he quickly moved his thoughts off the subject.

Tuning his focus back just in time for the monitors to turn on, his eyes studying each screen's contents. An AI demon, the thing must be pretty impressive if it's got that many guards around it. I can't wrap my head around those net structures at all. I hope I can still help, Salem worriedly thought. His body took a step back as the man's face suddenly appeared like a jumpscare causing his heart rate to spike for a moment. The only part of this plan that really confused Salem was the caged bird, and he didn't exactly understand what the metaphor meant or if it was even a metaphor. Salem just hoped the smart people of the group would likely be able to take care of it or explain it later.

After the presentation, that feeling started to swell in him, that anxious excitement. With all these new people from different walks of life, it'll definitely be interesting as all hell. New place to hang is nice too. Salem just hoped he would be able to keep up. Nyx's offer to ask Atara and Yudai questions was tempting, but he felt it'd be prying too much if he asked any of the questions about Nyx or what Ares was like only a minute after formally meeting these people. Salem took another glance at Nyx, avoiding her eyes as she offered them to indulge in the bar. He went to the bar, getting a refreshing glass of cold water on the rocks. The beverage actually helped him calm down. Maybe Nyx wasn't as scary as he thought. After all, she's human, just like everyone else here, right?
Upon realizing Vi's call for cheers, he awkwardly moved his water glass up halfway. "C-cheers," he stuttered out with a nervous smile.


 
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Vance
777TH STREET AUTO SHOP, ARROYO, SANTO DOMINGO, NIGHT CITY
Caught off guard, Vance stumbled backwards and fell over under Jin’s heel.

The atmosphere completely changed. Candy and Luna lost the easygoing personas they'd had moments before, and both of them were now pointing their own sidearms right at Jin: Candy a Lexington, clearly custom-fit, and Luna a Nue, clearly… covered in multicolored stickers. Michael eyed the two of them, then sighed and rather begrudgingly pulled out a sawed-off shotgun to point lazily in Jin's direction. For a minute after everyone had given their two cents on the situation, there was just silence.

Vance broke the tension by laughing.

"Put the guns down. No need."

He abruptly lifted himself off the ground, one hand swiftly wrapping itself around Jin's ankle. Whereas Jin was far more agile than he was, Vance had more brute strength, and using his advantage of preventing Jin's own movement he reversed their positions, leaning forward to bring his face closer and to add more weight.

"And are you the goddamn emperor? What gives you the fucking right to judge someone's entire character off of one action? Why do you assume that cat is innocent? Why did you assume that I was a 'decent man'? No one in this city is clean. You can thank the fucking corpos for that. That's 'Saka does, they make us worse than scum because they don't want to live alone in their self-made hellhole."

He eased off of Jin and grabbed a bottle from the cooler without checking what it was.

"'Course, I'd be a hypocrite if I did the same. I smell 'Saka's stench on you. They did something to you, they did something to me, but we don't ask questions around here. I have my reasons for going forward and you have yours, but as long as we're out for the same fuckers, we're preem, and we stay out of each other's way otherwise. Now do I need to explain it in a less pleasant way or you gonna drink to that?"

He held the bottle out to Jin, almost like giving him a hand. Candy still had her iron out, but Luna huffed and holstered hers while Michael rolled his eyes and tossed his shotgun into the back of a nearby truck.
Zerulu Zerulu (Kade) ▽ @DonutCRY (Jin) ▽ Inb4Cloaker Inb4Cloaker (John) ▽ LuckyOuie LuckyOuie (Kali) ▽ Mamori23 Mamori23 (Eve)
 
John Greene
Arroyo, Standing Ready

True to his own demeanor, and thanks to his vision obscuring visor, the Juggernaut was slow to react to the scene that unfolded before him. Initially, John leaned in towards Vance as he exposed the untraceable currency, lured in by the prospect of being able to once again help his little buddy survive. Within moments, John began wordlessly rustling through the empty plastic explosives pouch he had on his side, ensuring he’d be able to fit any currency he was given. His enthusiasm was spurned however, by the muffled sound of a handgun echoing through the streets around him. John didn’t feel any impact, nor did he hear any yelling, so he could only guess as to what happened. As the blue light of his mask bathed the air in front of him, John viewed the unfolding scene through emotionless lenses.

Vance had shot the kitten, and had found himself on the ground after the swordsman delivered a well placed kick. One Mox was berating Vance, while the other was honoring the mutilated animal by pouring alcohol on it. Meanwhile, the injured man had readied his mantis arms in defense of their potential benefactor. If John were still fully subscribed to the truth he was indoctrinated with while serving the Inquisition, he would’ve stepped in to assist the swordsman before clearing the entirety of Vance’s shop off the map. Instead, he used the opportunity as a lesson to learn about who he’d be working with. The Fanatic also made a mental note to never bring Smoky around any of these people.

After what seemed like an eternity of being lost in thought, John stepped into action.

His first order of business was to remove the obscuring scarf he hastily placed over his EMP vest, allowing it to be viewed by the world around him. The gesture wasn’t intended as a threat, but it could easily be perceived as one. Next, the juggernaut turned towards the mangled kitten and slowly walked over with loud, defining steps. When he was within reaching distance of Eve, he used a single armored hand to nudge the Mox out of his way and away from the deceased animal. If Eve resisted, John would not apply more force to move her, nor would he stop his intended action. He did not fear any reprise that could be bestowed upon him. With great effort, the Fanatic would lower himself down to the ground with a clumsy kneel, hunching over the deceased kitten. Hands clasped, he offered quiet murmurs of prayer before draping the scarf over its mutilated body. With unusually tender motions, John wrapped the scarf underneath the kitten as best he could before raising it off the ground and gently slipping it into the explosives pouch that he had previously reserved for currency. Later, John would bury the small animal, and hopefully provide its soul some type of small respite.

Without standing, and without casting a glance at Vance, his vocoder echoed out.

“REFRAIN FROM ANGER, AND FORSAKE WRATH. FRET NOT YOURSELF; IT TENDS ONLY TO EVIL… HE WHO HAS A HASTY TEMPER EXALTS FOLLY.”

The voice that crackled out no longer sounded tired and complacent. It was alert, and angry.

The cryptic message was more so intended for John himself, serving as a reminder to restrain himself in the new environment he found himself a part of. Luckily, two of Vance’s allies had lowered their weapons and erred to the side of reason. Kade and Candy were still armed and ready to engage though, evidently. Rising up from the ground with a labored grunt, John stomped over and positioned himself between Candy and Jin, eyeing the small pistol down from behind his GP-5 while providing the swordsman with physical cover. With one potential threat covered, John could only hope that Kade would also see reason and cease hostilities.

 
Graye Winfrey
WHITE RABBIT persona - Early evening, Watson, Nyx´ Warehouse
This job was perhaps a step into the big leagues.

Rabbit had no illusions about what that meant. Graye might be an elegant, pure rich girl raised among among gold and cushions, but Rabbit had been in the guts of Night City and watched them bleed. In a few days, everyone in this crew could be dead... just not her. White Rabbit stayed white by keeping keeping one of two things: distance, or speed. It didn´t seem to her like most of the crew could do that, but that didn´t mean they were useless or hopeless. Graye didn´t know how much longer she intended to keep playing this game before settling down for a glamorous career as an ad actress at Militech and maybe a drug addiction or two, but she understood that for one or two of the people in the room, this job mattered a whole lot. She wouldn´t look down on that, but the girl hoped they would take it just as seriously as she intended to. In a positive way.

Amélie and Diego looked the best to her, and no wonder: Rabbit knew them both well enough. The detective had always seemed competent to her, and her camo gimmick was always a useful trick. Diego could take care of himself, or let his wheels do that for him. It was comforting for Rabbit to know they were involved, but she knew that was sometimes a luxury. Other fixers had told her that it was not uncommon for crews to be completely made up of runners who were perfect strangers to each other. Rabbit was smart enough to know this was not always an accident, but at least this didn´t seem to be the case. If Nyx had set them up to be expendable, why invite both Diego and herself to join?

It was a couple of the other members of the crew that worried her. The netrunner looked like she knew what she was doing, or at least could fake it well enough to trick Nyx into recruiting her. The woman with the prosthetics, however, had something about her that worried Rabbit. Something that was there, but she couldn´t tell exactly what it was, and that was the concerning part.

The boy, Salem, he just seemed nervous, a bit out of his depth, and somewhat banged up. And although all of that was good cause for concern, at least it was a known factor. It seemed he either was a bit wet behind the ears, or he´d had an awful day. Well, Rabbit knew what that was like. Any excellent rollerblader like she was had scars... with her being the exception only because her legs were cyberware.

Rabbit let her cyber eyes and OS scan and store the likenesses of the crew, making sure to manually change all the data that could possibly identify the time, date and place. After applying image filters and manually scrubbing the register, Rabbit had them tagged for her recognition system with as little information as possible, making sure she could ID them out in the streets without compromising exactly how they had met. It was a very rudimentary and clumsy precaution that a lot of people didn´t bother with, since it was not sophisticated enough, and actually annoying to follow if you met some people often... but it was reasonably effective, and Rabbit did not plan to stick with this crew beyond the job. In fact, she wasn´t planning on sticking with them much.

Spotting Amélie walking over to the kid (well, she wasn´t that old herself), Rabbit got off the couch. She couldn´t eat or drink anything without removing her helmet or pulling the visor fully open, which had gone from an unexpected bug of the design to a welcome feature in her mind, so sticking around to drink and make friends didn´t really sound like her thing. Instead of that, she decided to get to business.

That didn´t mean she had to be a bitch about it, though, so her rollerblades took her humming gently over to Vai (as she would probably be calling her from now on, she noted mentally). The eccentric white figure fist-bumped Vai´s drink while her visor cast two retro-pixelated cocktail glasses clinking together. She repeated the gesture with Salem, following the weird little toast with a simple, cheery, bunny smile on her visor, and rolling backwards towards Amélie while doing finger-guns. Because no one who ever did finger-guns could be interpreted as dangerous.

Spinning to face Amélie and Atara, bunny ears bending down, Rabbit slowed down to a gentle stop right beside them. The situation struck her uncomfortably like the typical chat with her classmates.

"Hey Mélie." The bunny smile was still there, not mocking but just working as the substitute for a smile that Graye did not have on her face at the moment, but probably should have had. "When you write up that plan, be sure to include anything that might be useful. Guns, vehicles, hacks, whatever. Can´t promise I can source them, but I´ll do my best, mmkay?"
 

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