Futuristic Electric Sheep [Always Open] - [Androids | Space | Politics]

[ReverseTex]

Jamie au Olver

Location: The Agency Bang Bang

As promised the day before, Jamie and company stood ready beside the door, a small earpod in his ear as he listened carefully. His personal guards had dispatched Bella’s own with ease, handing the bodies over to The Agency to deal with accordingly. Running a hand through his hair, which began to fall loose due to his head being dipped... "Do not forget your position, Captain. You may be head of this agency, but you are not Noblus. You do not give me orders...”

With a stern push of the double-doors, Jamie entered with a methodical calmness. Today’s suit was a dark navy as well as tie, shirt a metallic silver, his house colors. His icy eyes gleamed as he heard the boots of his guards barricade the door. “You’re right Bella, our dear friend Captain Ariel has no authority here, I do...” Clasping his hands behind his back, he circled the woman like a vulture it’s prey. “Look around you. We are all liars here, and everyone here is better than you...”

In one swift motion, Jamie was on Bella, his hand wrapped around the handle of his retracted razor. The blade now sat neatly against her neck, while his arm locked the woman against his body. He might not be a skilled swordsman, but with a dagger.... It was a different story entirely. “Your fault Bella... You never kept you foes cofused. If they aren’t certain of who you are, or what you want, they can never beat you... You’re like a book!”

Scoffing, he tightened his grip against the woman. “So dear Bella... Any last words?”

 

[Noivian]

Incoming File ...
To: Elowyn

RE: OCTAVIUS AU LOCKE

Location: Castle au Locke
Bureau Notes: First post, woo!

Classified
He always checked his emails in the morning. His emails and his letters. Seemed someone made him an appointment. Hm... Lifting a mug of tea, he pressed the rim to his lips, expecting the liquid to be sweet and full of cream, just like he liked it. However, the man recoiled violently when the tea brought across his tongue was five degrees too hot. Angrily, resisted the urge to slam the mug onto the table. Sliding the offending cup away, he dialed down the thermal settings on the cup so as to cool the liquid to a proper temperature. With a sigh, he turned to look at the plate of food one of the house androids had brought him, only to see that too burnt. Well, at least his sense of taste wasn't needed to consume this horrid-looking meal. He could already feel the surface of his tongue going numb from the burn of the tea.

Breakfast was finished fast, and Octavius quickly made his way back to his dressing room, dawning casual attire, along with a cloak to conceal his identity. Typical attire when traveling to the Shadow District. He thought briefly on what he might encounter while there, and decided another pair of disposable hands was a good choice. Making his way to the Slav quarters in his house, it didn't take long to find the newcomer. "Lyn," he called, her name a command, a summons, hard and harsh. "You are to accompany me today to the Shadow District,"' he stated, when the girl was before him. He didn't bother telling her what her purpose was, or why they were going there. It wasn't her business, and should her purpose come to use, it wouldn't matter if he told her or not.

 

[Elowyn]

Incoming File ...
To: Noivian

RE: Ashelyn Fall

Location: the present: House au Locke
Bureau Notes: The Beginning. Post 003.

ClassifiedShould her eyes have been fully capable of seeing, she would have noticed the warm almost homey touch of her new master's house. She would have liked the livening touches of the plant-life and decor. As it was, things were still blurred and she suffered from a splitting headache.

The journey the night before had not been too pleasant. Everything was cordial and business-like. Polite exchanges were made. Then she was being ushered out of the au Fairest house forever... and out into the twisting turning streets of the Noblus district. Upon the door being slid shut, she made no noise, no remark. Lyn was quiet and as silent as the grave. There was nothing left for her in the au Fairest house anymore, although a pang in her chest reminded her of Amalie's sweet hazel eyes and the bright bubbling of her laughter when she was swung high in Master Terrah's arms.

Her former master who was now dead. Lyn exhaled slightly, her breath passing almost soundlessly through her lips. She wondered dully what her new master would be like, but this thought didn't occupy her mind for long and her thoughts drifted to other things. The detail in the streets, the slight flicker of lights in a house, a faraway howl of some animal, the scuff on her shoe. Ashelyn tried not to think too much, to feel too much, for fear she may break.

Her traveling companion also did not speak to her. Only performing his duty of transporting her to her new rooms and letting her know that she was to answer when called. Morning came surprisingly quick. She prepared herself, bathed, and changed into her spare set of clothing. Now there was nothing left to do but to wait.

At this time she took inventory of her room. It was small and spare. Nothing too fancy but not sterile either. A wooden desk and a lamp occupied one wall that also sported a window. On it was a pitcher and a glass for water. A dresser was on the other side with a mirror and stand. The bed was lined up neatly on the wall that also had the door and a small bathroom was in the corner complete with a shower and toilet.

It turned out that her vision was merely blurred, and didn't work as it should in dim lighting. The girl hoped that it wouldn't get in the way of performing her duties.

************************************************************************************************
Not long after that, she heard her name being called from the hallway outside. This was her cue. She quickly brushed off the nonexistent dirt on her white apron and exited the room, trying to look to the best of her ability, ready.

She found that her new owner was a raven-haired man, mid-aged, and for all intents and purposes quite handsome although rather cold-looking. His voice held a harshness she wasn't accustomed to. Vaguely, she wondered who decorated the place for it was in distinct contrast with his demeanor. But then again, she hadn't been working in a "normal" household who treated slavs like the nobodies society said they were. Lyn found herself dipping her head in acknowledgment of the order.

Obediently she fell in step behind the Head of House au Locke.

 

[Mourning Dove]

location: Pulling up to Juno Station, Docking Bay in the Gozu District
tagging: Dover
ooc: Let me lie abed and rest

Scotch​

And then the bastard spouted some condescending nonsense and just walked straight past her.

Scotch bristled. If she wasn’t so taken aback by his utter composure and apparent disinterest, she would have punched him right in his unnaturally expressionless face. For sure. She technically still could, if she just turned around and walked up to the guy, but maybe, just maybe, that would be a bad call. If he really was sent by the Bureau to accompany them, picking a fight with him couldn’t possibly end well.
If he was sent by the Bureau. He could be lying. Scotch shot a quick glance at Swift, trying to make out what he thought of this situation. He looked…as tense as he had since they started this job, so that didn’t give her much to work with. He didn’t say anything though, so he was probably convinced by this Mr. Eye story. Or too afraid to alarm her while the man was still within earshot. Damnit.

Either way, it probably was best to tread carefully, so no punching, for now. Didn’t mean she had so sit back and let him order her around though. “Yeah well we’re thrilled to have you with us, Mister. Don’t know what we would have done without you giving us instructions.” She shot him the darkest glare she could muster, before she, reluctantly, moved to help Swift with the container. They did need to get going. Especially after she ran into… Jem. Ugh.

Scotch gripped the other side of the container with too much force, knuckles white against her skin. Eye was talking again, some unnecessary warning, and Scotch was just about ready to block out his voice and start lifting when Swift froze across from her. Scotch paused and mentally replayed the words their new tagalong had just said. Oh. Tanyag. That had to be Swift’s surname. As in, part of his real name. The one he’d never told her. The one Scotch had never asked for, because damnit, they were business partners and she didn’t want to know. She was trying to keep things nice, simple and professional here, and Eye Guy wasn’t about to screw that up for her.
“On the count of three, Swift,” Scotch growled, doing her best to ignore any further inputs Eye might have. The fact that he knew Swift’s real name probably proved that he was a member of the Bureau, but that didn’t mean she was about to let him order them around. Not on her ship. She hadn’t even thought about opening that stupid damn container. She knew better than to poke around in her customers’ business. Most of the time.

The container was heavy, but once they put their back into it, they managed just fine to lift it up and carry it the short distance to her ship, up the loading ramp and into the cargo hold. Scotch had them set it down for a moment and took out her holopad, punching in a brief series of numbers to slide down the wall disguising the biggest of the hidden compartments built into the hold.
Her ship might have looked like nothing but a slightly outdated cargo ship from the outside, but it had gotten it’s fair share of work done.

Once the container was stowed away safely, Scotch turned and started making her way to the front of the ship, not bothering to look back. Swift would follow her. Eye too, if she was unlucky.

Scotch was itching to get into the cockpit and get this show on the road – or into the sky, to be precise – but she put in a brief stop in the room leading up to it, throwing her coat on the floor, on top of an old pair of boots and one of her two broken old holopads. “Make yourself at home, I guess.” She made a vague hand gesture across the room, which might be considered a ‘living room’ by someone with very low standards, but mostly just consisted of a tiny couch, a table with no chairs, and a fridge and heater tucked away in a corner. The whole thing might have looked depressingly empty, if it wasn’t also in an impressive state of disarray, shiny pieces of tech and other knickknack scattered across the floor – some of it bought, some of it lifted from old shipments, most of it either worthless of broken. She’d sold all the good stuff. “If you can find something edible in the fridge, it’s yours. Bathroom’s over there. Swift, you can use my bed if you want to get some sleep.” She pointed to a door at the far end of the room that was slightly ajar, revealing a mattress and some boxes. “But don’t go digging through my stuff. Nothing for your innocent eyes.” She would have thrown him a grin if she’d been in a better mood, but couldn’t really find it in herself.

Instead, Scotch turned to Eye. “You…Just because you’re a Mister or whatever doesn’t mean you can-” She cut herself off. She didn’t really know where she was going with this. She was pretty sure being a Mr. allowed him to do all sorts of things, actually. “Just- If we’re stuck with you, fine. Do whatever you need to to. You can go watch your precious container all night long, for all I care.”

Shit, that came out sounding pretty weak. She really needed to get a grip. They were still alive. They container was safely stowed away in the back of her ship. Things could have gone a whole lot worse.

______________________​

The funny thing was: Scotch was actually happy about the meteor storm. Sure, it made her time steering the ship a living nightmare, and there were a few instances where they just barely avoided being pulverised by a giant space rock, but a least it made for a nice distraction. There was little time to think about long lost friends and unsettling tagalongs when she was busy trying to not get them killed.

By the time she she could make out the faint red glow of Juno station in the distance, Scotch almost felt like herself again – A very exhausted, sleep-deprived version of herself, sure, but definitely better.

Her mood was slightly dimmed when she noticed the plume of smoke trailing away from the station as they got closer. “Uh. Swifty, come take a look at this,” she shouted towards the back of the ship, slowing down, but not stopping their descent. Whatever this was, they probably didn’t have the time to wait and watch it unfold from a distance.

​

 

[Dover]

location: The Citadel
interactions: @ everyone in the Citadel (paragraph 7 on) | @ The Counsel (paragraph 3-4)
mentions: Isabel au Saara Bang Bang | Vita au Caelesti Cosmic_Chaos | Jamie au Olver ReverseTex (paragraph 5)
ooc: in which I attempt to tag almost everyone in the RP and decide to be lazy instead

Hera​

Someone died overnight in the Shadow Districts. Or rather, maybe people died on the Citadel every day with ten billion people on board, but this one was different. The report on the matter said he was part of the Hands group, that he suffered a previous, unspecified lung condition, and that he had died of asphyxiation. His six-year-old daughter had found the body. It'd taken authorities nine hours to respond to the call, which she was told, was an excellent response time for minor problems in the Shadow District.

Hera suspended work on her terminals and reassigned maintenance to prioritize the failing ventilation system in the lower levels of the Shadow Districts. The water leak would be next. Someone had already vandalized one of the repaired terminals. Technically, she was still obeying. Emperor Zera only said to prioritize terminal maintenance. She said nothing about how many should be repaired or anything about switching back part way through.

She did, however, listen to Emperor Zera's orders to stir up problems with the Counsel members. Part of her, like the Emperor, just wanted to see them squirm. Seeing that would give her some small pleasure. Potentially the last of it that she would have for some time. Eventually, the Passing would come to its end, and new Emperor would be chosen, and they'd likely be worse than the last. That was the way with tyrants.

So she kept it subtle at first. She messed with the heating in their homes first so it was just a bit too hot or a bit too cold. She pumped trickles of air from the Shadow District ventilation system into their homes, their places of business. She made it so the water in their showers and baths was never quite at the temperature they wanted.

Others weren't at home or reacted in a way she didn't expect, but she'd get them later. Once Isabel au Saara retired for the evening, Hera planned to make the sound of a single shot ring out in her room. Vita au Caelesti was an odder one. Nothing much seemed to perturb her. Though, the woman did seem to have a particular fondness for her library. Hera made sure the sliding doors to it opened and closed at random. And Jamie au Olver? He didn't get the privilege of subtly, as far as Hera was concerned. She stopped all incoming and outgoing electronic messages to his residence. It wouldn't stop him, she knew, but it might slow him down. She'd take just annoying him.

He was on the move again today. Isabel too. Everything focused on The Agency and she was just about to direct her attention there to interfere with whatever was about to occur when it happened:

The email came in, the only words in it, 'THE VENTS', being unendingly repeated like some horror movie from the Old World.

And for the briefest of moments, while the Citadel's residents read and called over others to view it, Hera didn't get a single new request. It was peaceful. Quiet like she never experienced before in all her years of existing.

They all came at once.

Thousands upon thousands of requests bombarded her from all corners of the Citadel. A hundred thousand requests piled up in the queue. Two hundred thousand. More kept coming. She didn't know what to say. How could she possibly reassure everyone when she hadn't even begun to investigate the source? She was split in all directions, trying her best to tell people that everything was under control and the message was being dealt with by the Agency. It wasn't enough. The requests kept piling up with more of the same. Now follow up questions as well.

Her connection to the Shadow Districts was always tenuous at best, but it was almost completely dark to her now. She had no eyes there. Only the movement of the struggling functions. She tried to divert more resources there. More processing power to the requests. She felt every single light in the Citadel flicker for a few seconds as she tried to keep hold of everything.

She needed help. She needed help, she neEDEDHELP. SHENEEDEDHELPSHENEEDEDHELPSHE HELPHELPHELPHELPHELP.

 

[s e v e n]

Gabriel O. au Augustus

Location: Citadel, Level 14, Underworld

✢ Interactions: Lexa
✢ Mentions: Jaime ReverseTex , Zera Bang Bang , Hera Dover

​

​

x

lol still sorta [i]really [/i]drunk. I'll make up with a decent post once I return xD



Perhaps living in a near complete utopia didn't eliminate the chances of having a severe headache, because that was what he felt now. In the dimming approaching of sunlight, blades of light piercing through the ends of his curtains like razors, Gabriel has found himself roused not by the incoming clicks of heavy footsteps through the halls, yet by the splitting of his head. Or perhaps also a bit of the former.

In all honesty, the male barely remembered what was happening the other night. See. He remembered the desultory flashing of red, blue, green, amidst the ever ending darkness. Smell. The thickness of alcohol- brand of the flourishing nightlife. Touch. He remembered the feeling of running his hand through skin- or perhaps coating over metal. Perhaps this was like any other of his nights, whenever opportunity seeks. And then a face flashed.

It took him minutes to finally regain memory how he even vaguely looks like, more to whatever his name was. Oliver something. Jacob- no, that's his own name. A lock of white, dazzling yet betraying set of sharp gaze- and might he admit that he had quite a charming smile. Whatever. What happens in the Shadow District remains there. However, if his memory haven't betrayed himself, Oliver was someone important in the Noblus area...

Oh shit.


"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." With a whir of the gear, the door slid open, revealing a figure with dark hair just as his- only longer. Blue eyes amidst the dark locks, glowing like that of a navy lantern. Alexandra "Lexa" au Augustus, half metal demon in designer shoes and also, his twin sister.

"Sister mine," he greeted, a side-way grin making its way to his face. Lexa's face did not waver, instead if it was possible, her scowl deepened.

"Save your excuses, Gabriel. You promised that you would stay away of the Shadow Distirct...until," she averts her gaze slightly. "Until these are solved."

"And you believed in that promise?" he asked, sliding himself off the bed, wincing at the sudden throb of the head. Of course.

"No," answered Lexa too matter-of-factly it was almost sad. "But I am warning you, brother mine. For the thousandth time-"

"Oh Gabriel, don't go hang out in the Shadow District. Oh, don't go drinking- don't poke your dick in that thing- "

"Yes yes, you know the drill," Lexa cuts in, avoiding any more possibility of her brother's pointless mock expression of her. "The thing is..." she began, softening her expression, before she paused in a frown. "Who or what did you sleep with last night?"

"Does it really matter?" he asked, stripping himself off his shirt -still reeking alcohol- and replacing it with a new set. "And how did you find me? Also, twin instinct is not legit. I checked it with Hera."

Lexa's face was pulled into a mild confusion briefly before rolling her eyes. "You answer I answer," she said, to which Gabriel sighed at. In all honesty, he wasn't really sure. That night was shelved among ones he barely remembered anything at all- he didn't even know how he got out of the bar, nor what he did among them. Considering the lack of bruises, he perhaps hadn't slept with anyone, nor pick a fight that became two wayed. Yet perhaps the name was worth mentioning...

"Jason Oliver."

"Who?"

"Jared Oliver."

Lexa muttered some things under her breath, contemplating the name as she felt it around her tongue before her eyes snapped wide, her attention grazing back towards him. "No you did not."


"Yes I did...?" he frowned. "Or more of I cant really tell..." he murmured.

"Let's hope it's not true," said Lexa as she paced in the room.

"Why?"

"Jamie Oliver!" she pointed out, for once bearing a slight emotion to her voice, if it was exasperation. "He's a member of the Counsel. One of the most dangerous, I've heard."

Gabriel felt a shiver up his spine. Well fuck. He wasn't sure if he was worried more over the fact that he may or may not have slept with a Counsel member, or the fact that his sister seemed to care more about it than he does.

"Alright there Sherlock. Perhaps then you'd tell me how you found me? Is this Hera again?"

"No, no it's not," answered Lexa shortly. "And I forbid you from any attempts to shock her. There is...a much important matter right now."


Gabriel choked, turning to look at her on his way out. "Did I get someone pregnant?"

Lexa glanced back at him, though once more her expression had become stoic, almost robotic. "Mother is ill."


​

​

​

Lexa E. au Augustus

Location: Citadel, exiting the Augustus Estates

✢ Interactions: Gabriel, Zera Bang Bang
✢ Mentions: Victoria NUSKI
​

​

x

From the moment she was born, she knew the world was fucked up. The moment those light flashed before her eyes, crashing of limbs and bones, and the coming splashes of crimson painting the halls of death- she knew that the world was really fucked up. Her heels clicking against the white polished floor, her blurred reflection dancing in the pale light, Lexa made her way across the hall, her twin beside her.

"Have you feel something weird lately? As in this morning?" Gabriel said, perhaps in an attempt to break the silence between them.

"Gabe, shut up," was her whole reply, not even looking at him. From the corner of her eyes she saw her brother roll his eyes, pulling a face before averting his gaze out the window.

"Why are you doing this though? Why do you care?"

Lexa paused in her way and take a short glance at him, before continuing. "She's our mother."

Of course that was a first reason. Despite their circumstances, it was a fact she know that their loyalties must remain with Zera, not only because she is their mother -adoptive or not- but more because that she is the Emperor. However, there was...something else.

Lexa was more than aware that something is going on- she wasn't sure what, but she knew that nothing would have been the same again. Something approaches, a fate reducing distance as they speak- dark and gloom envelopes. And as the Emperor's daughter, she deserves to know, and this was something she deemed important, even more important than her issue with Victoria au Saara.

Victoria. A girl of the same fate. She tried to shake off memories clouding her vision, smiles, laughter, and of course, that one scene that ends it all. She could consult with her really, that would have been a quicker access. But after that hug yesterday, a hesitant smile and her words ringing in her ears... Should she? Could she? Would she? What was these feelings even. This weren't betrayal, not even close. Yet somehow walls protruded between them, a sign of not the end yet regardless a sign.

I should have visited you.

Doors open with yet again a mechanical whir, the figure of a dark skinned woman, elegant despite her old age, emerged. Maria, the palace android serving right underneath the Emperor herself, turned her head to face the door. There was also another girl, looked much younger than they were, clearly asleep. Who was she? Lexa never remembered seeing her before- however, there were many that she didn't know. And she was about to change that.

"Maria, please," began Lexa. The female android nodded, heading towards the door with a prior curt bow. The door closed behind them, leaving only the three in the room. It was Lexa herself who stepped forward first, considering that Gabriel was not the one with most needs. Back straight, chin up, the perfect form of respect- Zera au Augustus may be their mother, but she is also the most feared person in Citadel- the highest of names. The Emperor.

"Hello, mother."

​

​

​

 

[Dover]

location: The docking bay, Juno Station
tagging: Mr. Eye CerpinTaxt | Scotch Mourning Dove | Probably the Blinders if they're waiting in ambush? Bang Bang
mentions: Nigel ReverseTex | Nat Squared
ooc: out of the frying pan and into the fire we go!

Sami 'Swift' Tanyag​

He'd not kept it together well after moving the cargo. The shaking of his hands had become plainly obvious after that. Embarrassed that he could handle so little, Sami shoved his hands in his pockets. He followed Scotch to the front of her ship, still silent. Right now, he wanted to keep as much distance between himself and that Mr. Eye guy as possible.

Scotch's ship was just as much a mess as the first time he saw it. Clothes strewn about, broken things on the floor instead of trashed, some pieces of tech here and there that he might have checked over if he wasn't so goddamn tired. The first time he'd come here, he'd gotten on Scotch's case about the mess. It was too much effort to care about that right now. The couch looked appealing enough to sleep on, and he appreciated the offer of food.

"Thanks," he mumbled. Sami shuffled off to the door that Scotch indicated her bed was through. "Wouldn't dream of looking through your stuff. Gotta keep my innocence." Sami scoffed. Besides, he was half scared of what he'd find if he did look through her stuff. He frowned at Mr. Eye and gave Dolly, who was ever at Sami's side, a nudge with his arm before he whispered to her, "Stay out here with Scotch. Watch her back and get me if something happens."

I will protect Scotch! Dolly said.

"Sure you will."

Dolly left Sami's side to hover by Scotch. With one last look over his shoulder at Mr. Eye, Sami headed into Scotch's room. He slide the door to a near close. If something happened, he should still be able to hear it. But if he didn't deal with his problem soon, he wasn't going to be of use to anyone. He sat on the edge of Scotch's mattress.

It took more effort than it should have to open his bag and wrangle the package of Stims he'd ordered earlier that day. He removed one Stim and smuggled the rest back in his bag. Four more after this. Sami tore the Stim's packaging open with his teeth, lifted his shirt just enough that he could press the Stim to the side of his stomach, and depressed the button on the top. Stims were always a sharp bite as they went in, but the relief came just as quickly. It flooded his body, causing him to lean forward in his sitting position and press his forehead against his knees. There was no high with this particular drug, just pain relief, though that didn't stop the symptoms of withdrawal. But that was eased too as the Stim worked its way through his system.

Slowly, Sami eased himself down to curl up on one side of the mattress and drifted to sleep despite the impending doom of meteor showers, sketchy organ transports, and a probable member of the Blind Bureau on board.

______________________​

Sami woke to find himself surprised that they hadn't been crushed to death by a stray meteor. That was nice. Groggily, he pulled himself to his feet. Everything hurt again. Sami was down to three Stims before Scotch called for him. He left her room, carding a hand through his hair to get it to smooth back down.

"Look at what?" The question didn't need to be answered as soon as he got a look at Juno station through the cockpit's viewing port. "Shit. We can't catch one fucking break." He licked his lips nervously. "I don't think that Mr. Eye guy is going to take 'hey, how about we go back?' for an answer. He didn't care about the meteor shower. Probably not going to care about Juno being on fire either." He exhaled loudly through his nose. "Nowhere to go but forward. Let's go."

Juno's Docking Bay was at least a few levels removed from the signs of disorder they could see. Least, it seemed that way as Scotch's cargo ship docked there. Sami stayed up at the cockpit as they docked, lingering just behind Scotch's chair. He peered around, looking for signs of trouble, but saw nothing but two people as they approached.

"The hell? Is that...? I know that one." He pointed over Scotch's shoulder. "Nigel. Basically runs Lancelot's Pot. No idea about the fancy-looking buff guy." Muscle? Things must have gotten bad if Nigel, of all people, was hiring muscle. What a weird choice in muscle, too. "Not sure why either of them is here, but if one more person joins this suicide mission, I'm going to lose my mind," Sami growled. "I'll... I'll go out first. Kinda looks like he's ready for a fight, but Nigel'll know me. Come on."

Dolly zipped to his side as he made his way to the back of the ship. Pointedly ignoring Mr. Eye, Sami hit the button to open the cargo bay doors.

 

[ReverseTex]

N I G E L

Location:Juno
Interactions/Mentions:
Squared Dover Mourning Dove CerpinTaxt

Nigel zoned out as the man named Nathanal spoke, his amber eyes scanning the permiteter for his visitors or Blinders. From what he did pick up however, this man was some reality host who happened to like fashion, and clearly liked men also. Twat. Seeing Scotch’s ship in bound, he sighed, looking up at the bigger man. “Listen mate i apologize for getting on the wrong foot, but i’m afraid i’ve got some business you’re not allowed to be around for. Go find the Blinders, they’re much nicer blokes than me! If I am your supposed “muse” then we shall sheduale a meeting soon? Good? Good.” Clasping the man’s shoulder, he forced a smile, knowing it would be the cherry on top. He did feel bad for this man, knowing that he would belive ever word he said...

Leaving the “show host” in the alleyway, praying to any of the gods that the man would run away, he spotted Sami emerge from the ship. His eyes quickly shot to the man’s leg, which looked fair, but due for some patchwork. “Cheers mate! Sorry for the delay, i’m afraid some flamboyant twat from who knows where tried a fast one on me...” His stress high from the previous conversation, he took a deep breath before continuing.

“Right. Now due to the Blinders recent behavior, i’m afraid that the cargo will be much harder to transport than anticipated. I wasn’t able to bring any of Lancelot’s men, crazy bastard... But i’ve mapped a route we can take, it’ll be the least dangerous, but still not idle. Who’s the other blokes back there?” Looking over Sami’s shoulder, his amber eyes studied the darker woman, as well as the tightly wound man... Smuggler and Blind Bureau he’d guess.

 

[Squared]

Location: Juno Docks
Tagging: Nigel ReverseTex | Sami Dover | Scotch Mourning Dove | Mr. Eye CerpinTaxt
Mentions: n/a
OOC: playing with fire

Nathaniel Prescott Bernoulli

Nat was no genius, but he'd spent his fair share of time around people, and he could tell when someone was trying to ditch him. So, he did the exact opposite of that, and followed after Nigel, because taking no for an answer was just not in his nature. Was he playing with fire? Maybe. Was he going to stop any time soon? Probably not. Was he going to get burnt? Almost definitely, but such was life.

“Yeah, no, you see—" he glanced at the other people who’d just approached Nigel —some better dressed than others— and flashed them a polite smile. Were they going to be a problem, or could he perhaps find more muses among them? He could almost hear Richard's voice in his head, warning him that this was too dangerous, telling him it would not be wise to continue with this course of action, but Richard wasn't there and Nat did what he wanted, when he wanted it.

“Lovely to meet you all, hope you are doing well, even under the circumstances. Terrible weather, isn't it? Now, pardon me, just give us a moment—" he turned back to Nigel, standing in his line of sight to make sure he had his attention. "Right so, as I was saying, good muses are hard to come by, so when I do find one, I tend to stick by them. And hey you got something to gain too, the winner gets a grand prize!" Jazz hands accompanied that announcement, because jazz hands automatically made everything more exciting and interesting.

"Besides," he continued, this time making sure the new people could hear him too, "this whole place is a mess, and it seems like you fine gentlemen have some business to take care of, and I happen to be able to, like, appear and disappear in all sorts of places, and move stuff with my mind, so that’s gotta count for something, right? I could totally help! Plus I got this neat little thing!” He took out his razor and waved it around like a toy.

 

[Collidias Rex]

Incoming File ...
To: Mourning Dove Trouble, Bang Bang Gwen

RE: HADES

Location: Underworld, Back Room
Bureau Notes: There may have been misjudgments made

Classified
Hades' elbows rested on the tabletop, square with his shoulders. While his palms touched, his fingers lingered a hair's breadth apart, separated by an invisible barrier of tension and ready to snap together and weave.

Madame Trouble was one of two things. A member of the android rebellion ... or someone trying very hard to appear that way. Hades had suspected the former, merely out of habit, but ... something was not right. No, Hades was decidedly unhappy about his new visitor, and his face grew creased with discontent as Madame Trouble continued to speak.

"But information is boring, isn’t it? We both have our own ways of attaining it already, I’d assume. I certainly do. So what about humiliation? The Emperor has been trying so hard to keep-"

There had clearly been a miscommunication.

Eurydice ... Viper ... Jesus, is this what Gwen hears when I talk? His head sunk into his hands and he smoothed his palms over his eyes, rubbing at them. This was abrupt. Not only was it abrupt - it was insulting. It was concerning. This was exactly what he had feared - the codenames, the subterfuge, the metaphors had all boiled over. The objective had been smothered by the presentation.

“However, if you have use for the information she carries, or perhaps want to play the benevolent ‘hero’ who’s returning the stolen soul to au Augustus, I can have her brought to you. Just say the word.”

Hades stole a moment to deliberate. His answer was already set, but he couldn't find the words he needed.

And then Gwen spoke up for him.

"What's the point?" Gwen's voice snapped the moment in two. "Steal an android, show the Emperor's weakness, then what? We just wait for her to hunt us down? Or worse, whoever succeeds her."

After yesterday, he should have yelled at her. He should have snarled or slammed his fist on the table, Gwen, shut it - but she'd caught him off guard.

Hah.

Was she turning into him? Grumpy, blunt and critical ,.. he fought back a smile. No. There was too much at stake here.

"Madame Trouble." He started and drawled into another pause, searching for and sorting the exact sounds he needed to utter. "Who ... the fuck do you think I am?"

That was it. His fingers folded together and his brow sunk low, and Hades glared across the table at his new 'contact'.

"Do you think this is a game? Do you think we're playing spies? Well I'm not fucking playing a game! You have the nerve to show up at my table and peddle your mad schemes and insult me! Do you know anything about me? Do you have the faintest clue who your partner is in this negotiation? Because I don't think you do!" His fingers had come free and a hand slammed onto the tabletop.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you genuinely believe I give a flying fuck about what Zera does in the bedroom! Christ, every junkie in two miles could tell you I don't fucking care for their prattle. At least have the nerve to tell me outright that you need my bloody money, and not fuck me about and act like this is for my benefit!" Sweat dripped from cheek, which had turned a shade of red. "Is this what our mutual friends are concerned with? The petty affairs and slander of the noblus?"

He threw his hands in the air. "I'm trying to get an entire fucking planet to embrace revolution, and my conspirators are busy slinging mud at the upper class? I'm sorry, I thought this was a fucking revolution, not a winter-fucking-soiree. Do you have any idea what I'm planning? Do you have any idea how much your glorified paparazzi piece pales in comparison to the stakes of my objective? Do you? The families have been busy pissing on one another for decades now, and look where that's gotten them - nowhere! Zera is still Emperor, and they're still scavenging at her feet! Do you know why that is?"

Both fists dropped onto the tabletop again, and Hades climbed from his seat and leaned across the table. He panted for a second, fists trembling and teeth gritting down. His face tightened for a moment, then cleared with a long, slow breath.

"Zera devastated the citadel." The words almost came in a sigh, breathy and tired. "I'm sure our mutual friends are particularly aware of this, aren't they? Zera is responsible for The Wastes. That is why Zera is in power. That is the kind of event it takes to stir change on this godforsaken sphere."

 

[RiverGamer]

Incoming File ...

To: KnightSergeant

RE: Aritafae 'Fate' Alexander

Location: Slag Sector, 17th district

Bureau Notes: “A man does not make his destiny: he accepts it or denies it.” - Ursula K, Le Guin. Still day one of the Passing (Taking my time here I apologise)

ClassifiedFate clenched her teeth as she had the bones in her right hand progressively broken and squeezing her eyes closed to prevent tears from spilling out. She wasn't going to allow for herself to appear any weaker than she already did. "Fuck!" Fate hissed through her teeth. "Okay, what do you want? It's not like I have anything to give you. I guess I could probably do some jobs for ya..? But if you're looking for everything I own then I'm sorry but I have pretty much nothing because, as you said, I lead a pathetic life so sadly I'm not made of credits" Fate didn't normally like giving in, but she'd realised in that instance that she was sorely outmatched so she resorted to conversing to the stranger and hopefully finding a way out of being killed or captured by the authorities. She planned to do this be offering what she could give, her skills in theft. Although they hadn't worked this time, they must have seen her pickpocket what had to be at least half a dozen or more people in quick succession. Even though they were intoxicated, it was difficult to pickpocket from more than one person without being caught or methodical planning, and she'd done it on the fly! Hopefully, they'd have her do some sucky jobs and let her live. However, this was a small hope.

"Can I just ask what you mean by me 'feeding the machine that (I) seek to destroy? I don't want to destroy anything, I just want to survive like everyone else. I'm sure you understand?" Fate paused before continuing. "Ok yeah, I'm not the biggest fan of all the high and mighty Noblus, but is anyone? Listen, I apologise for trying to steal from you and especially for stabbing you. It's because of my state of life that I act this way, I don't try to kill anyone but I have always reacted badly to being pinned to anything, which you had every right to do of course.." Fate sighed, she hadn't felt this weak in years, she really needed to up her game. I cannot die yet, Isa needs me. Fate's sight was downcast to the floor as she thought of Isa and what was needed for her. I haven't got nearly enough yet. If I collected enough then yeah I'd be less concerned about my death but I don't want it all to end yet. Death will have to wait for me.

"Just please, don't kill me.....I have someone who depends on me....she'll die without me..."​

 

[Noivian]

Incoming File ...
To: Elowyn

RE: OCTAVIUS AU LOCKE

Location: Castle au Locke, heading to Shadow District
Bureau Notes: Octavius is too silent, too brooding.

Classified
Octavius took a moment to look the girl over. She was dressed simply enough... perhaps too simply. If she looked like a Slav, it might lead to assumptions he didn't want others coming to. Swiftly striding down the hall, he popped open a simple cabinet in the wall and took out a cloak, looked to be made of a grey wool and in well-worn condition. The cloak came with a hood and a simple steel clasp holding it around the wearer's neck. He tossed the garment at her, not bothering to see if she caught it. "Put it on," he said sharply as he turned and stalked down the hall. Turning back at the end of the hall to make sure she was following still, he fixed her with a look of concentration, gauging how much she'd stick out now. Ah, well, he wasn't about to contradict his own orders, regardless of if a pair in hooded cloaks stuck out more than one in a nice cloak and one who wasn't as nicely dressed following after.

Making his way back up to the main level, he strode out his front door, and with a wave to his chauffeur to call him off, drew the hood up over his head. The walk to the closest elevator to the lower districts was quiet, if not in part for Octavius steeping in his own thoughts too much to be mindful of if the new Slav was trying to strike up conversation. It was favorable, actually, that he was in this mood. Had he been more attentive, she would have been reprimanded for attempting to converse with him. After all, she was a simple Slav, not a member of the family. Passing a terminal, he had to remind himself that he was under scrutiny now. While House au Fairest wasn't the strongest or most influential of houses, it would reflect severely bad on him if Hera decided to share footage of him striking a Slav he had prior promised to treat well.

If nothing else, Octavius au Locke was a man of his word.

Honesty got you little in this world. Integrity, however, was another story. Octavius had found if you always stuck by your word, weather or not it was the truth, people will always believe you. Was he going to mistreat this Slav? Not where he could get caught. Certainly not where anyone could see, and definitely not where anyone could potentially blackmail him with evidence. Mm, but physically harming her wasn't the only way to punish her. It all depended on figuring out what made her tick. He smiled to himself, but that smile held no warmth. It was a cold smile, easily held under the hem of his hood, a smile that held a foreboding atmosphere about it. He glanced to Lyn. Just another piece in his elaborate puzzle.

 

[Elowyn]

Incoming File ...
To: Noivian

RE: Ashelyn Fall

Location: House au Locke... Shadow District
Bureau Notes: Traveling. Post 004.

ClassifiedLyn tried not to quail under his harsh scrutiny. After a moment he took from a cabinet a long wool cloak and tossed it to her. Lyn scrambled to catch it. She obeyed the direct command and tossed the traveling cloak over her shoulders and fastened the steel clasp. The fabric was well worn, a pale gray. She felt rather more secure under the extra layer that obscured the rest of her body. There was even a hood.

Nervously, she followed after him when he began striding purposefully out the door and towards an elevator. She assessed his demeanor, found that he was probably not looking to talk being lost in his thoughts and not the most friendly of sorts. Ashelyn was determined to at least do the best she could in her new position. She did not know this man or understand his motives. She didn't have any clue what they were doing or what was required of her. But it seemed like he was the sort to be blunt with orders so she rested contented that she would not be playing a game of Guess-What-Master-Wants. She'd heard stories of slavs who had masters who enjoyed bullying their slavs making them go mad by never being satisfied with their work. She hoped beyond hope that he wasn't the abusive type although who was to say at this point? For now she resolved to stay attentive to him and his wishes as was the only proper thing for her to do.

By and by, she wondered what business he had in the Shadow District. She herself had only been there once and that was a number of years ago, before she had begun to work for the House au Fairest. The only rumors she had heard were bad. It was a place of shadows, tricks, lies... shady dealings and the like. Perhaps he was going to one of those Stim places?

 

[Noivian]

Incoming File ...
To: Elowyn Bang Bang

RE: OCTAVIUS AU LOCKE

Location: Floor 18, Prometheus Laboratory.
Bureau Notes: OwO what's in here?

Classified
Pulling himself from his thoughts as the elevator signaled their arrival on the eighteenth floor, he turned briefly to Lyn with instructions before the doors opened. "Keep your head down, eyes on the floor. Stay right on my heel, and don't speak." Traveling in the Shadow District wasn't something to be taken lightly. Crime all but perspired in the air and unobservant pickpockets might mistake the visiting Noblus for a petty Hand. Granted, it wasn't common to travel down here in the day time, but his letter had been to... vague to ignore. Octavius had calculated the risks of a hostile encounter. None of his plans had set into action, however, so there was no need for any of the Noblus to be on his bad side. His crime in his youth had been thoroughly covered up, and whoever decided to confront him on such a matter was a fool to do so now, over twenty years since his proven innocence.

Besides, there was always his magic. And his Razor. He gave the weapon a slight pat where it sat tucked away on his belt, as if to affirm its location. Indeed, if this encounter was hostile in nature, he would be victorious.

The elevator doors slid open, and he picked up his swift pace, long strides making good headway over the dimly lit floor. A brief glare from under his hood adverted the gaze of any onlookers who had the misfortune of glimpsing it. It wasn't long before his destination made itself clear: Prometheus Laboratory. That's where his note had told him to go. Something awaited him there. Standing at the door, he was suddenly brought to realize he had no clue what exactly he was getting into. Having half a mind to turn back and return to his dwelling, Octavius mentally scolded himself. He had come this far, and his integrity wouldn't allow him to return home until the mysterious letter was sorted though.

Octavius entered the lab.

 

[Elowyn]

Incoming File ...
To: Noivian

RE: Ashelyn Fall

Location: Shadow District
Bureau Notes: Traveling. Post 005.

Classified
It gave Lyn a decided start at his words: "Keep your head down, eyes on the floor. Stay right on my heel, and don't speak." How bad was this place? Her heart pounded in her chest and her senses became hyperaware. She did as she was told and bowed her head, training her gaze at the littered ground. There wasn't anything to say, anyways. He seemed experienced enough, and no fool, so that brought her some measure of comfort, although it did not stop the hairs from rising at the back of her neck.

After the elevator doors opened, her master's pace quickened. Their destination turned out to be a lab of some sort. It stood imposingly in the gloom. There was nothing for her to do but to follow, still silent.

Now this really set her heart racing. A lab in the middle of the Underground? Surely he wasn't going to sell her organs or something, was he? No... surely not. Her previous owner would have taken care of that. It wasn't like a Noblus to go back on his word, after all. Ashelyn tried to distract herself with thoughts about Amalie. Had the girl eaten? Had she been replaced or were they now too poor to afford even that? A tin-can, perhaps? How were they getting along...

Tap... tap... tap... her footsteps went along the corridor. Her master's back was perpetually before her. There was no telling what this would lead to.

 

[Bang Bang]

Incoming File ...
To: ReverseTex

RE: BELLA AU SAARA

Location: Agency Tower
Bureau Notes: man this party sucks 0/10 not attending again

Classified
Isabel au Saara was about to launch into one last attempt at reason, something to draw her friend back from the plank she was about to walk with her eyes wide open, when the doors burst open. She expected it to be Agents with urgent information but no; There stood the prime bastard himself.

Jamie au Olver.

"The King Rat himself. Why am I not surprised to learn you've been sneaking about behind closed doors, Olver?" Bella flung at him with all the malice she could muster as she realised something that set her blood cold: She was outnumbered. Very outnumbered.

“You’re right Bella, our dear friend Captain Ariel has no authority here, I do...” Jamie drivelled like the pretentious twat he was. 'Dear friend'? What did he know of Ariel other than her price? Though how had Bella considered them so close when she'd been unable to judge even that? No - she'd always known everyone could be bought. She'd just never thought they would come for Ariel. But she was Captain now, a title many would love to consider in their pockets. After all, why else had she herself had her appointed thus?

Her mistake had been to believe loyalty still existed on the Citadel.

"Fuck you, Olver. You have no authority over me. You command nothing, rule nothing, are nothing. And if this is how you chose to rise, amongst blood and liars, you'll fall just the same way, I promise you that."

He circled her, a predator marking its prey, as if even with all this technology they'd come no further than the jungles of Old Earth.

“Look around you. We are all liars here, and everyone here is better than you...”

She was all set to back chat him when suddenly he seized her, forcing them close. At first she thought it was some misguided intimidation tactic - that is, until she felt the sharp sting of the Razor at her neck. He laughed that awful laugh that made her want to regurgitate, the kind of laugh that set hope for human kind into a spiral of disintegration. “So dear Bella... Any last words?”

She was outnumbered, outplayed, and outmatched. It was with unexpected calm that she realised she was not leaving this room alive. Arms dangling at her side, she twisted her hand minutely to feel for the Razor strapped ever present at her hip. She could not hope to fight him off and win, though she may be an excellent swordsman, he had her by the scruff of the neck. Revenge, then, if not escape.

"Just three," she answered him, voice betraying the slightest quiver of fear as she realised what - and whom - she would be leaving behind. A slight nudge of the thumb, and her razor burst to life, a long, curved sword-like thing crackling with light. "Go to hell."

She did not expect to survive. She could only hope to bring the bastard down with her, before he proved to be the undoing of them all. One last, strong movement; she brought the Razor gliding up to rip across the fucker's smug, sneering face.

 

[Bang Bang]

Code:

Incoming File ...
To: s e v e n Lexa Cosmic_Chaos Aria (see after the cut regarding upcoming military campaign: NUSKI (Vic) KnightSergeant (Lyud) )

RE: ZERA AU AUGUTUS

Location: The Palace
Bureau Notes: Finally writing characters that ramble as much as I do - feeling validated here

Classified
Zera listened to the inane chatter of the girl, watching her drink until sleep finally claimed her. What a strenuous way to start a morning; Even her Counsel were less effort than this. Still, she'd made her choices, and this girl, innocuous and trivial as she was, would do nicely; Besides, Zera did not have the time to be picky.

As two Hands clad in sleek white coats entered, so did the Emperor's wards. She paid them no mind until Aria had been carried out by the two Hnads, giving them a curt nod to confirm their instructions. With that done, she turned to meet Lexa's regal posture with a thin smile. As her eyes slid to the figure in the back, that smile soured to a cold grimace. "Lexa. Did you bring your brother here to address reports of what occurred last night?"

Even as she began on her usual lecture, she found herself without the burning, icy fury that would be the norm in her stomach at this sort of time. She felt... tired. Snapping her fingers at an android stood in the corner, head bowed, she ordered more tea to be bought and rested herself upon the crimson upholstery. Her hand, clasping the golden frame, shook, but she fixed Lexa with fearsome eyes nonetheless.

She did not detest Lexa as she did Gabriel; The girl was too soft, a disappointment of the protege she once was, but she was not her brother, a difference that served her favorably. In comparison to her sibling, she seemed quite benign, and served as a welcome mediator between the Emperor and the rabid dog she was obliged to keep.

"Sit with me, children," Zera said with uncharacteristic gentleness. Something about seeing Lexa, her attempt at performance, untangled something within Zera. This was as close to maternal fondness as she could come with these children now that they were adults and so much different to those scraps she had once adopted. "I'm certain you did not come here without purpose." Pouring the tea for the three of them, she brought hers, black and sugarless, to her lips. "Speak it. I am unfathomably busy, but this morning, I can spare you both a moment. Let's not waste it on lectures." She gave Gabriel a pointed look. "However much deserved."

✧✩✧
​

When Aria awoke some three or more hours later, she did so in one of the guest rooms of the Palace. As was to be expected of such a location, it was endowed with every material luxury one could want for; a vanity dresser embellished in gold sat besides enormous french windows, thrown open so that the light breeze generated by the ventilation system set the thin gauze curtains all aflutter. White sheets, pillows, and a throw matched the spotless walls, the floor of warm honeyed wood, replicated in the construct of the bed frame.

She, tucked into the right side of an enormous King sized bed, was not alone; to her side, two individuals of a brown-near-black complexion with wide, amiable eyes sat on snow white chairs, waiting on her. They conversed in quiet murmurs until noticing her awakening, straightening immediately. "Miss Aria, thank goodness you're awake," the smaller of the two androgynous attendees gushed. "The Emperor has been worried sick."

"She sends her apologies. She realises in retrospect that the request she made of you was unreasonable; it's no wonder you passed out from exhaustion."
"How do you feel miss? The Emperor has ordered that we are to get you whatever you need to feel well again."

"She wishes to let you know that she's chosen to assign you a new mission, also. Something of prestige as way of apology. She said she knows you're training to be a mercenary, and though some experience with the Imperial Fleet would do you the world of good."

"Most top Mercenary guilds only take ex-Fleet operatives."

"Yes, exactly. She's had to assigned to Fleet Admiral Victoria au Saara herself, who's due out shortly. Act squire to her for a term, and you'll no doubt learn very much."

"She's one of the best fighters on the Citadel, if not the best."

"When you feel well enough, the Emperor has asked that you report to her. She's likely to be in the Theta district. She's been notified of your arrival."

"Can we get you anything, Miss?"

 

[KnightSergeant]

Incoming File ...
To: RiverGamer

RE: LC-A7C4

Location: Shadow Districts
Bureau Notes: The only true currency is Knowledge(end of day one for me)

ClassifiedHer understanding of her purpose was obviously befuddled and she was ignorant of her place in the large machine, though perhaps the blind can march uninhibited nonetheless. It was almost humorous that she attempted to appeal to his weaker intuitions in order to save herself, as if his coolant capacitors and motherboards were capable of processing such a vain emotion as pity for such a pungent creature. Still, he could give off the impression of being merciful and fulfill his goals at the same time it would seem, so he didn't complain about the opportunity. With a measured slowness he pulled one hand from her, his other tightening around her shoulder as he continued to press her against the wall

There was a moment of silence between the two as he thought over what she offered him, a quick pair of hands that might be useful for some extra money or perhaps a spy; Information is the most valuable form of currency after all. Not to mention that she would be almost perfect for the role, given her perfect cradling between desperate and skilled that made her able and willing to do the work required. On the other hand, she knew what he was and could use that against him, not to mention that she could simply leave with more than he got from her - it was a rocky investment. Honestly though, he was sure that she would fit the bill and do whatever he said, humans were predictable if nothing else and she had already shown her hand. Holding his low, metallic voice he chuckled slightly, loosening his grip on her.

"Well now you just cant die now can you?" Reaching into his cloak he pulled something off of his side, a small metallic disk with a dull pulsating light on one side and a few sharp barbs on the other. Gently holding one side of the others head, his fingers slightly pressing against her skull, he shoved the thing into he back of her neck with a small hiss followed by a sharp beep.

With that he took a step back, 'cracking' his knuckles before slipping his metallic hands back into the darkness of his cloak. Now he would be able to see wherever she went, if she went home he would know where the person depending on her was, if she went up towards the agency headquarters to sell him out he would know. There was, again, a moment of silence between the two of them as he simply towered over her before he suddenly threw his arm out to the side, pointing towards the bright streets just out of reach of the alleyway. "Go make yourself useful, report to Feri in the slag sector when you are done." there was a pause for a moment, followed by a sigh. "And use the money from my wallet to buy yourself some more fitting clothes...and maybe a gun." Money was, fleeting in his eyes, and he would willingly trade it for whatever he needed at the moment. After all, that was its purpose.

 

[NUSKI]

Incoming File ...
To: Lyudmilla Taela ( KnightSergeant ) Lexa au Augustus ( s e v e n )

RE: CHARACTER NAME

Location: Fleet Admiral's Residence
Bureau Notes: hiyahhhh

Classified


"I am sure he will turn up today."

"That's what you said yesterday" Victoria said in reply to Phillip. Yesterday she had sent a member of her own elite guard to go and check on when Roman would show up at the Agency Tower but he never showed up. To make it worse, she called off the hunt which only made her feel only more conflicted. He usually disappeared off to a Joybar but not for four days; her brother was starting to become a nuisance. Victoria sat up and sighed. She was leaving tomorrow and she had a lot more to worry about than her childish running off to do who-knows-what. "Send a message to Lyudmilla. We will meet in the office. I need to speak to her."

"You haven't told her yet? You're leaving tomorrow!" Phillip said with a raised eyebrow. Since yesterday, Victoria was seriously starting to think about adopting this boy but if she was to do so she wanted him to seem more like a son. After her meeting with Zera, she got him a couple of teachers and new clothes. He would do some schooling at home until she could figure out what to with him. "She's probably going to be pissed."

"Doesn't matter. She will be happy she will get some action. It has been too long" Victoria said as she stood up and cracked her knuckles, looking at the room around her. She wasn't sure why, but ever since she was visited by the Emperor she wanted to make some changes. She had already started with Phillip but she needed to work on her reputation. She hadn't done anything impressive in a while and while this expedition would put her name back into conversation it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

When she would return, she would make people realize why she was known as one of the best warriors in the Citadel. "...Phillip. I need you to send one more message. Please inform Lexa au Augustus that when I return, I would like to arrange a friendly meeting at the residence" she said while turning her back to the boy while he wiggled his eyebrows at the mention of Lexa, opening the large walk-in closet using a fingerprint scanner that lit up almost immediately. Another thing she gave to the boy was a tablet which was mostly used for communication but he wasn't really familiar with technology so it was a start. Stepping into the closet, Victoria turned around only to press her fingers against the scanner attached to the wall which locked her inside. She only moved when she heard the door to her room close and was positive that Phillip wasn't tricking her this time.

Victoria put on the skin-tight metallic suit she usually wore during training exercises, not even bothering to go formal. She hated the damned outfit anyways, it was too much-- plus it had a cape. Shaking her head at the thought of having the cape stuck in a door, Victoria was prepared to leave the closet when she saw something that caught her eye. It was a rusted metal suitcase collecting dust on one of the top shelves. She looked behind her as if someone was there before jumping up and slamming it into the ground, the sound echoing throughout the closet. Now having a better look at what looked like just a giant box, the Fleet Admiral quickly recognized the suitcase. It was from her father, something he left in his will. She never opened it because she felt guilty. Her father never left anything to Lincoln which was unusual for a father. Growing up, she was busy with other responsibilities so she forgot about it but it must have ended up in her closet when the androids were moving her stuff in. The lock on the suitcase wasn't even fully clasped on which made Victoria laugh with disappointment. Going on her knees, she slowly opened up the case.

"Smells like shit" Victoria whispered to herself as she leaned in to take in the objects before her. There was a lot of stuff inside, the top layer mostly being old pictures of him and her mother which she quickly brushed aside. Once all the pictures were gone, all that was left were things wrapped in towels and strange device which resembled a tablet but the edges had six buttons. Not understanding the strange device, Victoria pressed down on one and the screen lit up with the au Saara logo. Victoria waited for several minutes before coming to the conclusion that the device was broken and put it down, letting the screen stay on. Victoria picked up another object and unwrapped it, eyes widening. It was a pair of dual knives with a piece of paper tied to one of the blades with a piece of string.

Tanya--

That was her mother's name.

Mom.

Victoria screamed, almost at the top of her lungs and stood up to whip both of the knives at the closest wall. They pierced through a blue dress that she had never worn. Victoria's face turned red with anger and kicked the suitcase away from her.

"I don't need you bit-"

Knock Knock.

"Vic, are you okay?"

It was Phillip. Victoria frowned, regaining her composure and clearing her throat. "I'm fine. Please leave." Phillip knew better to anger Victoria more than she already was so he quietly left the room. Victoria fell to her knees again, glaring at the staircase. She wanted to look through the suitcase more despite what she just did. Reaching for it again, the tablet-like object she threw on the ground before made a clicking nose for what seemed like five seconds before the face of her mother and father. Staring at the screen in horror, Victoria reached for it and whipped it at the ceiling before the woman on the screen could open her mouth to speak. The device came crashing to the floor in pieces which made Victoria relax a bit more. Reaching for the suitcase again, Victoria grabbed a random object without looking before shutting it completely and hiding it under a nearby chair. Still on the floor, Victoria unwrapped it and put into her hand what seemed to be jewelry. The chains were a gleaming silver and the pendants seemed to dance in the light. They were two necklaces with au Saara pendants on them, the familiar bird in sight washed Victoria with calmness. One was probably for her and the other was for her brother. They were both labeled and Victoria ripped them both off, but kept her eye on the one that belonged to her mother.

Victoria left the closet and made sure to lock it behind her, the door automatically closing behind her. Victoria put Tanya's necklace under her pillow, making a mental note to find Lincoln to give it to him. Standing in front of her mirror, Victoria looked at the necklace that was in her hand and turned her hand into a fist. Her MagiCraft suddenly appeared but quickly disappeared as she opened her palm, the necklace now gone.

"I don't need either of you. I am not weak like my brother" Victoria whispered to herself, glaring at her reflection. Victoria fixed her hair before leaving her room, leaving the suitcase in her large closet and the necklace nowhere to be found.

Spoiler: Lyudmilla Taela

FLEET ADMIRAL VICTORIA AU SAARA REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE IMMEDIATELY.

PLEASE SEE HER AT HER RESIDENCE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. EMERGENCY.

Spoiler: Lexa au Augustus

FLEET ADMIRAL VICTORIA AU SAARA SAYS HELLO.

SHE REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE AT THE FLEET ADMIRAL'S RESIDENCE WHEN SHE RETURNS FROM HER EXPEDITION.
SHE WANTS YOU TO KNOW SHE HAS YOU IN HER THOUGHTS AND HOPES YOU ARE OKAY.

 

[Rainzen]

Incoming File ...
To: tags: Hera Dover Mystery letter sender Bang Bang Octavius Noivian Lyn @n.y.c.t.o

RE: Antonia Au Steele

Location: Shadow district level 18
Bureau Notes: Post #2 alright mystery lab, give me your worst

Classified
Antonia didn't wake up in the morning. That would imply that she slept. Despite complaining to the staff three times during the night, her rooms had yet to reach a tollerable temperature. Eventually she had just given up pretences and taken the stims, to hell with sobriety anyway. If she was going to be up all night then she might as well make use of it camped out on the couch alternately sweating in her underwear and bundled in blankets as the temperature fluctuated throughout the night. Hera's doing. She almost felt betrayed by the perpetually friendly SAI. By the time the sun was rising and her high was starting to fade she had gotten farther than expected on her newer prosthetic designs, drafted a letter for immediate delivery in the morning and attempted to sort out her plans for surviving the next two weeks, all due to the beauty of energy enhancing drugs.
The messages were certainly a surprise, and not a particularly welcome one. Toni might not know the ins and outs of the game, and wasn't as familiar with the emperor as the other council members, but Zera inserting herself directly into Toni's path now of all times could not be good. Zera was a hard one to read, and frankly, the woman terrified her. "Hera, would you-" She began out of habit but cut herself off. "You know what nevermind." The furnace chose just then to blast a new draft of hot smoggy air into her livingroom. "And also fuck you." She added, stripping off the blanket and grimacing at the smell. Zera wouldn't need a confirmation anyway, if she had been unable to attend the request she would have just been expected to disregard any prior obligations in favor of the emperor. Besides, there might have been a reason the message had to be delivered by hand.
Best to take care of other business now then. The other letter had been ominus, but not nearly as worrying as the first one. One thing was certain, she couldn't ignore it. Perhaps it was the smart thing to do, let things continue as they were and keep her head down, curiosity was going to be her downfall someday; ideally not today. Going down to the shadow district was tricky business now that she actually had respectability to maintain. Two or so years ago she wouldn't have thought twice about going down to party at stim haunts and more notorious nightclubs, whether she was robbed or recognized hadn't mattered much before she'd become head of her house but it was a different story now. No one wanted to be recognized in the shadow districts but she refused to wear some cliche cloak with a wide hood, as if that wouldn't make it obvious that she was trying to hard to conceal her identity and probably had something worth stealing. No, she settled for a tying her hair back and covering most of it with a headband, and wearing her shop clothes. No one expected a noblus to look like they just rolled out from under a machine, the grease stained white tank top and frayed cargo pants would hopefully keep people from giving her a second look, it usually did. She didn't bring her razor either, since the only thing it would do was draw attention, opting for a gun incase things went sideways. She should just bring a gaurd but she didn't want anyone knowing what she was up to.
The way down was blessedly uneventful, and the lab wasn't actually all that hard to find, but she figured that was the last of her luck as she saw two figures enter shortly after the doors had come into veiw. Toni bit her lip nervously, unsure of how to proceed and suddenly very acutely aware of the fact that she had no idea what she was getting into. Going back now would just feel pointless. She squared her shoulders, drew her gun and snuck in behind the cloaked figures, briefly noting that she was glad about her decision to not wear a cliche hooded cloak, because honestly at this point that would have just been awkward, someone would have had to change.

 

[ReverseTex]

Jamie au Olver

Location: The Agency Bang Bang

Although as cunning as Jamie au Olver was, he had never mastered the art of fighting. After his duel he improved in his dagger and short-blade skills, mostly for quick deaths, not for battles. And the crackle of Bella’s Razor surprised him, trying to move from its path as it made its way towards him...

The next moment he was on the ground, his right vision blurred, and his hand that held his face together covered in blood. Not again. This is not happening again. A silent rage filled him as he made his way to Bella, who had paused to look at her handiwork. In one moment, he plunged his Razor through her heart, no quips, and no words. Shoving the blade deeper inside, he held it there momentarily, before ripping it out as slowly as possible.

His suit and face now covered in blood, his Razor covered in Bella’s, and his breath heavy from rage. Pressing the button that drew away the dagger, he turned towards his guards and tossed the hilt to them. “I need that gone...” Running a bloodied hand through his snow-white hair, he could feel his face had been torn. “Medic would also be nice...”

Jamie took a heavy seat in Ariel’s guest desk chair, his vision beginning to blur red from the blood upon his face. “You did good Captain, now get your men to make it look like a accident far away from here... Camera footage of her entering this building needs to be erased also, Zera’s pesky AI could get it...” Closing his icy eyes, the man relished in the silence for a moment, almost forgetting his injury and the dead body behind him. “ My father had always told me this. Money buys a man silence for a period of time, but a bullet to the heart bought silence forever....”

 

[Bang Bang]

Incoming File ...
To: Lyn Elowyn | Octavius Noivian | Toni Rainzen

RE: LAB 18

Location: Lab 18
Bureau Notes: I've tried to avoid controlling characters as much as possible, but have assumed they they will progress through the lab - within each 'travel' section you can fill in and add whatever interaction with the environment (and one another) as you see fit

Classified

The three who entered Laboratory 18 - though they were not all aware of one another - did so to find a rather unimpressive sight. Though enormous, the hall they entered into lay in disrepair, floor tiles scattered all over the place, walls heavy with rot. More so than the natural cycle of decay, it would appear some kind of machine had ravaged the place; great scrapes peeled paint from the walls, and metal and fabric from the machines and hospital style beds lining the sides of the chamber. The lights were non-standard issue; flickering, blue-silver things that made the room feel much colder than it actually was.

If a 'truth' - whatever that meant - lay here, it did not present itself immediately.

As and when those new intruders entered, the lights sputtered and then, all at once, flicked from their icy cyan palette to that of deep, bright, unyielding crimson. Behind them, the sound of the door clicking locked behind them echoed distinctly through the cavernous space.

Beyond the rows of battered hospital beds and dated equipment, and the walls which contained them thus, newer, stranger sights offered themselves up to those now bathed in red. Hanging from the ceiling, enormous tanks of a green fluid - turned brown-black by the lighting - hung suspended from the ceilings.

Within the thick cylindrical glass of these containers, something almost plant-like appeared to be growing. It twisted, coiled, and knotted, straining against that holding it in. Close inspection of the contents might - given the eerie atmosphere and the dim lighting - fool the looker into thinking the flora growth to appear to mimic the form of a human, sprouting roots and branches from limbs, fingertips, mouth and eyes. But those were only few; most had the common decency to resemble a strained, confined tree, and nothing more disturbing.

One such tank in the corner appeared cracked from the pressure, fluid slowly leaking down the side and dropping, drip by gradual drip, to the floor; The resulting sound was the loudest thing about the place.

Or, it was until a sort of scraping, perhaps a shifting of something across loose floor tiles, could be heard.

The sound fell still almost as unexpectedly as it did start; It waited, seemed over, and then resumed a moment later. The distinct sound of china tiles snapping in half under weight applied at a certain angle rang out, bouncing back in echo across the vaulted ceiling.

After another pause, the slight sounds gave way to a thunderous crashing; the sound of furniture, metal by the ring of it, being thrown and shoved about against walls and floors appeared deafening after the near silence. From where the intruders stood, a cardiography machine could be seen hurtling from one end of the room, disappearing behind the wall at the other. Feet - for what else could they be - could be heard slapping heavy, almost wet in the squelch of them, across the tiling.

A figure appeared. Whatever impressions the apparent strength it demonstrated might have given, it appeared - at first glance - human. Rotund, distended about the stomach, it limped, for its legs were unevenly proportioned like its arms, where one appeared amputated at the elbow. This stump, contorted and wrinkled, quivered. Hairs, dense and thick, appeared to raise upon it, and then all of a sudden they shot forth, thickened, and condensed to form one enormous, club like forearm.

The thing, though its enormous head lolled back in the feeble support of a spindly neck, appeared to be watching its visitors. It retched, hacking up a globular liquid, thick and viscous and coloured brown-black in the lighting. Behind it a door clicked open and shot back into its frame, granting entrance. The thing, whatever it was, paid the noise no attention.

It snuffed in the direction of its human guests, projected up another sticky stream of fluid, grunted monosyllabically, and shifted; weight forward on one leg. Its club-like arm swung back, like a batter of baseball preparing to strike the pitched ball.

As its visitors really should have been anticipating, it charged.

​

[[Additional notes: feel free to control 'the thing' as you see fit - hence forth, it shall act as a human would attacking, albeit more feral and infinitely more strong. Good thing Octavius brought his Razor. GM narration with recommence upon players proceeding (if they so choose) to the next room.]]

 

[CerpinTaxt]

Incoming File ...
To: Dover Mourning Dove Bang Bang Squared ReverseTex

RE: EYE

Location: Juno, Docks
Bureau Notes: IT'STIMEIT'STIMEIT'STIMEIT'STIMEIT'STIMEIT'STIME

Classified

“Yeah well, we’re thrilled to have you with us, Mister. Don’t know what we would have done without you giving us instructions.”


Eye showed no expression as Scotch glared at him, instead ignoring the angry woman as she helped Swift load up the cargo onto her ship. His eyes moved between them and the watch on his wrist occasionally, but other than that he made no comment or movement. The two had made up for lost time by getting the cargo in rather quickly. Once it was inside, Eye stepped into the ship and watched as Scotch typed into her holopad and revealed a hidden compartment. A good place to keep Mr. Knife's cargo so it seemed.


The floor was littered with various clothing and junk, any of which that came in Eye's path was lightly kicked to the side. Swift had decided to stay far away from him, and Scotch now turned her attention on him. “You…Just because you’re a Mister or whatever doesn’t mean you can-” Eye said nothing as the woman cut herself off, mumbling something about him watching the cargo for all she cared before heading off. Eye knew the two had wanted little to do with him, and he had no reason to interfere on the woman's piloting. He grabbed one of the free chairs and dragged it over to the table. He retrieved the holopad he'd stored in his coat a little while ago. He figured he may as well get some reading done. The trip ahead of them would be a long one, after all.


He watched as the robot that had normally stuck by Sami had now made its way to the currently piloting Scotch. He stared at it for a few moments before returning his attention back to his holopad. Page number 652.


--


“Uh. Swifty, come take a look at this,”


Eye lowered his holopad once he heard Scotch call out for Swift. He set the holopad down and rose from his seat, stepped out and over to where the two were. Eye observed the smoke rising out from Juno, letting out a small sigh before he walked back over to his holopad. His time to get some reading done had come to anticlimactic end and the holopad was quietly stored away. His back turned to the other two, the soft sound of something electrical whirring to life coming from him. What exactly made the noise was yet to be seen.


Hopefully this new item would prove useful for the job.


Once the craft had been landed, Eye stepped back from the table and calmly made his way to the cargo bay doors, watching as Swift hit the button to open them up. As the doors began to make their descent, his eyes caught what looked to be an extremely muscular and flamboyant man harassing someone in the docks. His eyes narrowed once he realized just who the two were as well.


"Mister Nigel." The Bureau member cleared his throat as he stepped off from Scotch's ship. "I presume you were asked to help escort the cargo from Boy? He had no knowledge of me coming along.." He trailed off as he looked about the Docks, finding them rather..empty. "Regardless, I suppose there is no reason to not work with you. I'm unfamiliar with Juno as it is, so you being here is preferable."


Nigel's news about the Blinders was new to Eye. Judging by the emptiness of the docks, the distant gunfire and smoke from earlier..yes this was quite the predicament. "I am Mr. Eye, a member of the Blind Bureau. I'm sure Mr. Knife will certainly appreciate your assistance." He looked at Nigel for a few moments before turning his attention to the flamboyant man who had decided to approach the group. The fact that he decided to treat his Razor like a toy was disconcerting enough.


"We have no need for your assistance, Mr. Bernoulli." Eye was apparently familiar with the man, or at least his TV show. "I suggest you find a place to hide until things have settled down. Or just leave altogether." His attention went from the razor to the camera bot. "Any cameras you have, I'm merely going to ask you shut them off. They won't be working soon anyway." What exactly would cause Bernoulli's cameras to malfunction was left unsaid as Eye decided to simply walk past the man. "Frankly, you'll be nothing more than a hindrance for myself and the others. A..waste of space, as they say? Yes. A waste of space." Whether the man retorted with anything, Eye ignored him. Nigel or the others could deal with the man.


Eye made his approach to the main door out from the Docks while the others were presumably removing the cargo from Scotch's ship. Through here he would be able to look out to see just the extent of the violence. Perhaps get a better ide-


Clink


Eye immediately froze, his left foot just outside from the quarantine zone, the door yet to open. It sounded like he had stepped on something. Carefully, Eye rose his left foot and moved it from where the object he'd stepped on. It was a small..cylinder. Eye kneeled down, picking up the brass object and raising it to his eyes to get a better look. Small numbers were engraved at the bottom, near the primer. 7.62x40. A common round. A very cheap and easy to produce cartridge. But this one had already been fired. He lowered the bullet casing and looked out at the black door, his eyes looking along the various edges of the doorway when he spotted..liquid. Crimson was smeared along a small part of the door, as if it had been hastily cleaned before the door had been closed.


Eye understood what was going on now.


He rose up, deciding to quickly find Nigel. Finding the man nearby, he approached the man and pointed over to the door. "Before we go any further..I'd suggest you examine the main door. If you hear gunfire come from the quarantine zone, it means whoever is in there isn't going to be focused on you." With the overly cryptic hint, Eye merely walked off, turning a corner over by one of the cargo containers before seemingly..disappearing.


--

The quarantine zone was silent, other than a light scraping, whose source was so far unable to be found. The lights flickered occasionally, a regular occurrence, but one that was happening just a bit..too frequently. The light scraping continued before abruptly ending and the lights on the right side of the zone flickered before simply..going off. The entire right side was shrouded in darkness but the quiet remained.

Whirrrrrr

Something was being charged. Suddenly the lights came back to life, revealing Eye standing there with a strange pistol in his right hand. The pistol was already raised, aiming towards the one in red, a pistol that looked to still be in a prototype stage. Various lights were on bits of the weapon, and not to mention possessed two triggers. It looked like a mesh of various weapons all compiled together into one pistol. He fired the gun, aiming for the headset as he fired. This gun was different. It was a pistol, and it was firing a round that was extremely loud for its size. It was loud, and moved faster than it should have been. It was as if a cannon had been fired, the large round letting out a loud CRACK as it was fired. This was no ordinary gun, and the small explosive payload meant to detonate after penetration meant the bullet was no ordinary bullet either. Once he fired, he let out another shot at the one in red before raising the pistol to fire into the lights. The cover of darkness would help him as he rushed behind one of the pillars in the room to use as cover.

UNCONSCIOUSLY, MY FINGER SILENTLY CRACKED.

 

[KnightSergeant]

location: Admirals Residence
tagging:
mentions: Victoria
ooc: redone son

Admiral Taela​

The sounds of the piano slowly rose, filling the room with each outcry of the large instrument as a nimble finger slammed onto one of the dozens of keys, over and over. Most people didn't bother with such cumbersome beasts of antiquity, seeing as how the same sound could be produced either artificially and played over the speakers that were usually around many expense estates or played through a jack of all trades machine such as a holophone. She however liked the piano, a gift from one of her cousins after her father's death - apparently crafted in the old fashion way by a small guild on Shahar III, that treacherous little moon. It was quaint, a simple gleaning black body with dark brown legs and the usual ivory white keys, and had been kept in good condition for how old it supposedly was. There was a small, petite, boy sitting at the seat, his fingers dancing across the keys skillfully and his whole face seemingly focused on what he was doing. She didn't know the boy personally, but he was the son of one of his subordinates who had been all too keen on showing his skills off for him. At the moment she was thinking about whether or not she wanted keep allowing him to use her piano, though she couldnt use it much herself and it would probably gather dust otherwise. Additionally, he was quite orderly about the whole ordeal, having been disciplined rigorously as far as she could imagine. No reason to hinder him from doing he was good at.

Looking up from her position at her desk her hollowed eyes narrowed as she stared the boy down, watching him as he finished up a rather elaborate piece, the music rising and rising in a whir of motion and sound that encompassed the whole room with its beige walls and oaken baseboards. With a resounding clang the piece ended, plunging the room into silence for a moment before he looked up, seemingly unable to repress the crooked smile that was splayed across his face. She couldn't help but produce a thin smile as she grabbed the nearby tumbler of scotch that had been sitting on the far side of her desk, the large orb-like piece of ice spinning around excitedly as she brought it to her lips. It had a robust flavor and burned momentarily as it slid down into her hardened gut, though it had a sharp taste that hung around on the tip of tongue that betrayed it’s authenticity. Her father never had a good taste in alcohol, no wonder he wasn't a successful joybar owner.

Ice clinking against the edge of the glass she put it back down with a clunk, index finger running along the screen of the device built into her desk, causing the blue hue to suddenly disappear as it slid back into the ornate wooden face with a low whine. Standing up she pushed her chair under the desk and took a step to the side, the heels of her boots clacking against the wooden floor. The sound was muffled as she walked over the thick rug that had been splayed out across the middle of the office room, the skin of a Ikmuni tiger - named so because humans like to relate things and not because it looked anything like a tiger - the dark purple fur starkly contrasting the glossy floorboards. Holding her thin smile she walked over to the piano and the excited looking boy, who still sat expectantly though he would never admit it, leaning her hip against the edge of the piano for a moment.

“Young patsan, you surprise me every time you come here - though you can always use improvement.” His smile widened for a moment as he nodded eagerly, patting him playfully on the head before standing back up to her full height as he slid off the seat. Almost the second his small loafers hit the carpet there was a quick succession of knocks coming from the doorway, followed by the door creaking open a few inches until her android secretary could step into the room, his hand coming up against his left shoulder hard followed by a deep bow before he started to explain himself. He was a tall model, lithe and weak looking with short raven black hair that had been cut short to the synthetic skin and a soft face with sunken eyes that glistened with a comfortable warmth - as if he had been working long hours at a dead end job for years.

“Ma’am, High Admiral Saara calls for your presence immediately at her residence.” His voice was bland, with only the slightest hint of a russian accent dancing at the edges of her words. Her comrades had given it to her with such a thick accent that would smack her in the face whenever he spoke, as a joke she supposed, when she had graduated from the academy. After a few months of that she had him trained and adjusted in order not to sound like so much of a joke. With a thin smile she placed her hand on the boys shoulder, leading him towards the door with a small whisper before looking up and telling the android thank you, to which he dutifully nodded. There was a moment of silence as the boy scampered off and disappeared behind the slowly closing doors along with the android.

The moment the large portal shuddered to a close her face hardened, lips pulling into a thin line as she turned back towards her desk, quickly finishing her drink before marching towards the small door that stood across from the larger one. There was a thin screen pressed against the wall beside the door and she promptly pressed her palm against black screen, waiting a warmth ran over her skin once, twice and then a third time before there was a small beep followed by a click. The door easily slid open as she pulled at the handle, the hallway beyond lit by daylight streaming in through the tall windows. It was an ornate hallway, adorned with old paintings that had been acquired over the years by her house, though she was sure that many of them were simple recreations as the original paintings were either much too costly for her house or destroyed in the wars that consumed earth. Though they did what they were supposed to, artfully painted dour expressions staring down at anyone who might be walking through the hallway, ancient emotions smoldering and compounding in layers and layers of oils and crumbled dirt. Alongside the paintings were closed doors much like those she had just walked through and running along the floor was a dirty red and purple rug with a faded golden pattern running around the outside.

Stepping into the room she quickly made her way down the hallway, the sounds of her footsteps echoing throughout the hallway as the door behind her closed on its own, shuddering as it fit gently into its frame. At the far end of the hallway was another door, which opened with much less security than the first and revealed a staircase descending downward towards another warm floor. The boards of the staircase groaned as she made her way down onto the landing, where another staircase waited to bring her lower where yet another door waited patiently - this time with another scanner. With an exhausted expression she slapped her hand onto the screen, waiting before the door popped open, swinging away from her. Sunlight poured in through the now open door, washing over her as she stepped out into the garden that was pressed against her house.

It was a beautiful garden, planted and cultivated by herself as a hobby she used to keep up her discipline - though she had to have gardeners tend the plants when she was off planet - but she did not give it but a fleeting glance as she strolled towards the vehicle that was floating idly with a rigid man standing beside it as if he was waiting for her. Swallowing a scoff at the idea she strolled up to the man, looking him over. The man was bald, with only a shading of short hair to denote that he had once had a full head of hair, with a crooked nose and a strong jaw that defined most military men. Her hard eyes caught with his for a second but he didnt look back, simply staring ahead into some unknowing void. Without letting another second pass she opened the door to the vehicle and slid into the huddled back. She could feel the white, fake leather of the seat press against her fingers as her form sank back into the comfortable seat. Because the vehicle did not need to be controlled by a human there was two pairs of seats facing each other and a small table between them in order to hold drinks, food or paper should a noblus, or someone of similar status feel the need to have a meeting or meal on the go.

“Good morning miss Taela, do you wish me to take you to the upper districts? The Monarch of Cana is still under inspection according to the report sent to your office earlier.” A happy, and obviously robotic, voice chirped away. It was unfalteringly happy and placating, somewhat to the chagrin of the firm woman, but she presumed that was to be expected of an automated assistant. Beneath her she could feel the vehicle wobbling slightly, and she curtly responded to the happy voice.

“Yes, take me to the nearest station if you can.” There was a moment where Lyud was left with the distant, muffled cacophony of the behemoth of a planet outstretched beneath her before she felt the vehicle rise higher into the sky. The view from the tinted windows was quite something to behold with glistening, sprawling estates both large and small sitting on platforms of vibrant flora all against a beautifully painted backdrop that changed from a bright happy blue to a burning red and a thoughtful purple as the day progressed. It was honestly one of the view things she liked about the citadel, how timeless it seemed when you took a break crawling and begging for scraps.

Before she realized it she was looking over the station, a large industrial looking building that was almost as big as a few small estates. There were hundreds of small landing platforms jutting out over the canyon of steel, glass and smoke that led into darkness below. The small vehicle slowed to a crawl as it adjusted its angle in order to land perfectly, floating a few inches above the surface of the platform before letting out a small hiss followed by a chirpy “we have arrived miss.” Thanking the small machine under her breath the woman slid out of the open door, the flat surface greeting her with a sudden groundedness as she stepped out and gathered herself. Half turning she watched the vehicle as it closed the door behind her, slowly rising back into the sky. We’ll that was the scenic part of the trip over with she supposed. Stepping into the doorway at the end of the platform she was greeted by a happy looking android clad in an conservative uniform, though the colors could be considered ostentatious depending on who you asked. Without letting it badger her on her purpose she put out her arm, pulling the cuff of her sleeve to reveal the bar-code. Understanding her impatience the android only took a second before realizing what she wanted and scanning her arm.

“That will be Path 8B” Its voice was warm and calm as it pointed towards one of the dozens of gates on the left side with a bright sign on the top flashing between P-8B, P-7B and P-1C. Tapping her knuckles on the desk she broke off towards the gate, passing through it with ease. The hallway beyond was even more industrial somehow, adorned with bright lights that washed over the metal interior and any number of posters for the military, tourism to other planets and the tubelines themselves. Continuing her march she stepped through the secondary gate to the P-8B tube and stepped in. This was the most boring part about moving through the citadel, the dull feeling of the air pressing against your skin as you whizzed around, too fast to take in the surroundings but too slow to just close your eyes and be there. It lingered just a little too long. Even having done this hundreds of times she still felt her stomach rise as she slowed down just enough to gracefully land on the platform that denoted her destination. Stepping out into the small lit room beyond she found herself in a much smaller version of the station before. Outside of the windows she could see the beast of the au Saara estate splayed out in-front of her like some terrible carapace.

Taking in a deep breath she stepped out onto the grounds she started her stroll towards the main building, ignoring servants, slavs, hands and androids that glanced up from their work or station to note her before returning to whatever they had been doing. Thankfully, the au Saara's had the decency to put their personal station within a kilometer of the main building so she didn't have to break a sweat on her stroll. After about twenty minutes walking pass smaller buildings and large gardens she stepped up the staircase, which was surprisingly bland compared to her expectations, and knocked three times on the door before stepping back, hands behind her back and feet shoulder length apart.

This should be good.

 

[RiverGamer]

Incoming File ...
To: KnightSergeant
RE: Aritafae 'Fate' Alexander
Location: Slag Sector 17th district
Bureau Notes: “It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.”-Joseph Conrad. Still day one of the Passing (After this it will start out as day/night one and will go to day two..finally!)
ClassifiedShe was staring intently as the stranger's retreating arm as they seemed to put their arm into their cloak before pulling out a small object. What the fuck is that? Fate waited as the stranger pressed the strange pin-like object into her neck that se thought was probably a tracker or small detonating device. She listened to what they had to say and then walked in the direction in which she was pointed to. Well, it looks like I'm alive for now. So where is Feri? *sigh* "May as well ask around instead of wandering around. Fate walked up to a passing bystander and asked were she could find Feri. She was pointed in the direction of a bar which didn't seem to stand out to her personally. "First things first, to get myself some stuff." She walked to a stall near the bar and purchased herself some new clothes, changing into them inside the cleanest looking public toilet she could find.

Feeling just that tittle bit lighter alongside a bit fancier, Fate turned around in her new outfit before walking to what she knew to be a weapons store and looked at the selection they had, deciding on a very unique looking revolver that be Fate's surprise and joy had an extra barrel underneath that seemed to allow for two shots to be fired at the same time. "Nice!" Fate couldn't help but whisper as she went and purchased the weapon. It's only fair that I spend the money I'm given to buy only the best quality of gear. Fate when into the bar named 'Feri' and looked around for any signs as to what she needed to do or who to talk to. "Could've at least told me what I'm meant to do here, 'report to Feri in te Slag sector'....could've at least said who to report to or something.... Fate shrugged and decided now was a better time than any to just sit down and relax before she'd try to figure out what was going on...​