Futuristic HOLO | GRAPHIC | DREAMS

[Elephantom]

Log #1348


Author: Jacob Dshciker


Last date updated: 12/1/3087


Location: Unknown


Loading transmission...


"They're coming! I know it! I've seen them following, they know I've seen them and their hideous experiments. They're going to kill me, lest I reveal it. They know that I'll reveal it, and even if I do surrender, they'll still kill me, for I know too much. They know I'm the whistleblower, they now know that it was someone from the inside all along, damn it! They'll never give up, they're gonna keep looking for me in their relentless pursuit to eliminate all traces of any knowledge of their experiments and creations, I'm like a fugitive right now, on fact, I am a fugitive right now, and there ain't no stopping that. I'm sure they've started removing all my traces and evidence that I existed, right now in advance. I've seen them purging my records! They want to remove me from the face of the earth.


It was me, who was the whistleblower, who thought that he could outwit the U-Guys, the damned regulators, but alas! I was undoubtedly wrong, they were too smart, I should've knew it.





I've been watching them, ever since I was promoted, I was given access to the more higher districts, the more higher levels, and I was given a task, a task which I regret accepting, but what else was I to do? It was three times my annual salary, and greed pulled me towards it, wish I could reset it, but nevertheless, what's done is done.





But as I was continuing, once I knew what was going inside the laboratories. It was some form of artificial intelligence, who could understand human consciousness and actually has a form of conscience, which I predict is evil without a single glimmer of doubt, it was a technology hundreds of years ahead of our own time, and I knew I had to tell them, the government, about my discoveries. Once I told them everything with precise details, including all the basic algorithms and operation details, all they did was break out into a ridiculous laughter, and pass it off as a crank call. When I insisted, or I tried to insist, that it was the truth, they immediately gave me some serious death threats, mostly targeting my weakness, which is my family. But who could blame them? I now understand that they were simply just pawns in a more bigger game of chess, and we were the boards who were continuously being stepped upon, or to be more precise, the megacorporations planned to destroy the whole board!





...


Shit! They're coming after me, I can hear them asking for my location. I gotta finish this fast, you see, there are a group of a lethal enforcers of some kind called the U-Guys, a fact I found out when I was given the full-priority cyberspace deck, which allowed me access to all confidential files and folders. And once they knew I was poking around their files, they immediately started following me, and as they usually described it, they put me on their 'watch list', which also meant they were four steps ahead of me. And now, it all boils down here, where they're looking for me, I know I cannot survive this ordeal, but all I can do now is spread the word, spread the whole fucking thing! If you're listening to this now, I repeat, spread the word, I heard they were... Fuck! Don't shoot me! Don't shoot- ahhh!


Hey, you see this, Mark? This traitor was trying to rat us out to the media and the stupid public by sending out this idiotic log to everyone, thought he'd outwit us, then again, he wasn't really the sharpest tool in the shed when it came down to common sense. Hey, say what? Delete this log? Remove all evidences, copy that sir. Hey, Mark! Help me transport this body, and delete all the stored information on the log.


Log process abruptly ended...


Purging all data...


Purge initiative successfully completed.


-





"Everybody! May I have your attention please" The Host said as he tapped on the holographic microphone which caused a sudden influx of momentous screeching sound onto the surrounding area as everybody's eyes went towards the host. Seemingly triumphant in gathering their constantly wavering attention, as most tourists have some kind of stereotypical short attention span. He put on a slight smile, or a grin to be precise, before continuing on with his speech. The room was bustling with a sense of cheerfulness and a bit of a crowd, as people simultaneously chatted and acquainted themselves with one another, thus creating a bustling ambience, which ended quite abruptly due to the sudden screech which left most people either dumbfounded or simply surprised. The room itself was quite large in all aspects and there was also a podium on the stage in front of them, which is obviously for the speech and information and the host was going to enlighten the tourist with.


All the seats were cushioned with comfortable with synthetic cotton, really tough and quite easy to clean, but real soft and extremely breathable too. The atmosphere was mostly cold due to the air conditioners and one could hear the sound of zooming vehicles pass around the cities, their sounds were quite audible due to the new photon engine system, which provided a more efficient power source at the cost of a distinct sound.


"A very warm welcome to all of you who have managed to spend their time and money to come here and to get acquainted with our magnificent city, and I trust that all of you will be satisfied at the end." He said before he moved his hand in a rightward motion, which created a hologram on the board beside him, it was pretty much the most newest tech, holographic manipulation, invented about 100 years ago, anyways, continuing onto the more main parts, the hologram, which projected a picture of some very bright and flashy city fuelled with neon and the occasional passing through of the popular hover vehicles. It was actually the truth, of course why wouldn't be? It was one of the reasons this city was given the title of being a 'neon city', of course it wasn't the country itself, no. But if was the most important city, the one they are in, of course.

"This is our country, the one you're currently standing in, also the one I'm currently standing and talking in. It was created in the early years of 2860 from the crumbles of what our forefathers used to call 'Canada' and the 'United States of America', 'Mexico' still stands today, but is merely called a 'no man's land'. This protective metal sheeting on the ground was created to counter the barren wasteland which our Earth was slowly turning into. Luckily, our intellectual scientists and our leading technology proved to be invaluable in the restoration of Earth. As you can see here, and on the ground you walk on and are currently standing on, it's a 1 mile thick sheet of Graphene coated with synth-metal, which are made out of nano-fibre strands of modumental, designed to be hundreds times stronger than normal steel. I'm sorry if this information bores you audiences to dissatisfaction and frustration at the detailed description, but it's a policy and formality of ours to do so, and which is to be as descriptive as we can be. Sorry for the inconvenience." The Host said in his usual polite manner. Before pausing again to change the hologram, again with a swipe of his hand, which caused the picture to change into a basic top-down map of the multiple districts. The map was a really rough skeleton of the districts, nothing too bland, nothing too frilly, all too standard.

"The city is divided into three official districts, and one unofficial district, which is mostly a town full of Slum dwellers and outlaws. The most highest district, district #1, is were the big businessmen, the scientists, the government and the statesmen live in, all the important people who deserve their money because of how they balance our economy and help us stay safe from a sudden crisis. The mid-level district, district #2, is where the technicians, the electricians, programmers live, though most of them work in another sub-district called 'synthesis ground' which is were the cyberspace and our electrical systems are handled and updated. The synthesis ground is divided into three sectors. Sector #1 controls and equalizes cyberspace traffic flow and maintains the latest updated technology, with extreme care. Sector #2 maintains our electrical grid by use of advanced holographic electrical manipulation technology with improved features which allows access to a more bigger picture of the underground electric grid which can be fixed in a jiffy, and which is why electrical outages rarely happen. Sector #3 maintains flow of cyberspace decks and tweaks and manipulates their variants and access levels, a mostly important task, if I may say. All of them contribute to our society significantly, and we should appreciate them full-heartedly. District #1, the low-level district, though certainly not the least contributor of them all, this district is were all the physical labourers and workers reside in, they are the people who maintain the physical framework of our country. And there's the infamous unofficial District 'downtown' which was previously district #0, before it was suddenly put on martial law as most people went rampant there, and now, it's really just a ghetto urban area, trust me, no one wants to stumble in over there." He said before smiling a bit more broadly. Yep, the synthesis ground was one of the most important stuff in the neon city, nearly about all of the city, excluding the downtown district, uses energy and support from the synthesis ground.

"Again, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Here's all your cyberspace basic decks, a part of our policy to provide our newcomers need to further explore our country, culture and social significance in this free world. These are, of course, completely free of any costs." He said before pressing a button in what seemed to be a holographic keypad, again, which was also one of the efficient stuff provided by the leading technomancers. He pressed a unassuming button which ejected basic-level decks from each of the seats the guys occupied in.


He smiled ever more broadly, almost in a creepy way, you could say.


"I'm proud to say this again, welcome to our city, we all hope you have a pleasant stay in here, I'm sure you all will thoroughly enjoy." He said before quickly disappearing off into the backstage areas in quite a brisk pace.

-


Elephantom presents:


HOLO | GRAPHIC | DREAMS


A Retro-futuristic, hard-boilded, uber-violent Cyberpunk Role play!

 

[Elephantom]

Marcus was on this extremely shady guy's tails, of course, he was very focused on this objective, mostly because of the caffeine but also because his job required it. He was asked by this woman to follow him, who she claims is trying to kill her and her friends, and already has killed two of them, and is now coming for her, quite the normal case in a city like this were crime is one of the most common stuff, as you can see, Marcus was and is a private eye, a investigator for hire who clearly wasn't afraid to pull the trigger, mostly because of psychopathic tendencies and badass ninjas skills. It was pretty much a normal day in his line of work, catch the killer, get the bucks and then rinse and repeat all the way round, except sometimes, the bad/good guys got killed and posthumously captured or disintegrated. Easy as piece of cracker, or so it seemed like, but it was definitely more than that.


Now the main fact here was: Who'd ever want to kill a stunning dame like that? She was definitely a stunner, that's for sure, any killer would probably be more bedazzled then being crazy. The second question was the killer's agenda, all killers have direct agenda, unless that certain person was a sociopathic fool. Actually, come to think of it again...


Flashback...


Marcus was in his office, as usual, there was nothing too weird about it except for his office also doubled as his home, and apparently, he was quite low on his rent payment by 200 credits. Fortunately, the owner was kind enough to give him some time. Unfortunately, it wasn't long enough before he was going to get his ass chewed out, and then evicted in due time. That's the how the world turned, you either played up bucks upfront or you get to roam the streets like a half-assed hobo. Heck, even most owners don't even accept virtual credits, they think it's some kind of abomination, especially the zealous old people who think that the cyberspace is the den of Satan. As they say, 'senile' old fools.


Marcus fiddled around with his E-Pen before actually starting to think how he really needed some quick cash. He rolled out his standard issue colt, before pretending to aim it on someone, complete with a few fake shots emulated using some washed up vocals, and as if it was some strange coincidence, Marcus too, was some washed up detective with a strange weakness for all femme fatales. And as if on cue, the doorbell rang, yep, even when holographic buzzers came out, Marcus still was using the good old doorbells, probably more due to budget than to nostalgia. The other real fact was that he slept on the couch, it was unfortunately, the bitter (and ugly) truth.


"The door's quite open, come in." He said, before grasping his pistol grip tightly, he had a lot of enemies, and caution is the best precaution, or vice versa.


And out the door came a beautifully stunning woman, he wasn't an expert in the psychology of women, but she was dressed in a white evening dress, and what he assumed was some kind of hat that women usually wore. Whilst he was dressed in his morning outfit, which was a trench coat and pair of slacks, which was pretty much too casual, way too much casual. She took a seat the corner of the table, as she looked at him, he now noticed that she had blue eyes, comparable to images of the sea. Now that was completely stupid, he was already getting manipulated by a woman.


"What brings you here at this time of night, doll?" He said in his bold voice, with a slight smirk, of course.


"Don't 'doll' me." She paused a bit, he could now see that she had a funny Russian accent, at least to him, it was funny. He proceeded to retaliate with another quirky remark before she was beat to it, by the woman, of course.


"Name's Jane Wersinger. I think you know what I'm here for, of course, you should know, it's your job. I'm being followed by someone quite shady, I think he's going to kill me. My friends, have all died. Every Sunday, one of my friends die off in mysterious ways, and I think that somebody's going to kill me." She said, before watching behind her, at the door. Yep, the paranoia was acting up.


"Don't worry, doll. Just give me some more details, anything, any unique characteristics? Any constant visiting place? Anyone that knows him?" He said, before picking up his E-pen and a notebook.


"Nothing too deep that I know of, only that he has a tendency to visit the omni-club, a lot, which is situated in District #2, sector #3, digit avenue. His names is..." She suddenly stopped, as if the next thing was something that was either very shameful or just really ridiculous. Marcus decided to wait for a while to let her speak, and when it looked like that she wasn't going to speak any time soon, Marcus decided to give her the glare, one that was full of expectations.


"Ok fine, his name is... Bongo jackson." She reluctantly finished as Marcus wrote it all down.


"Ok, since everything's done and all. I need an upfront 100 credit payment, while my regular fee is 50 bucks for each day I'm working. Nice meeting you, doll." He said as he ejected from his comfortable seat, before going aside her and opened the door for her to go.


"Lady's first." He said as he motioned for the door, in a chivalrous manner.


The lady smirked a bit before casually handing him the bill, before moving on.


Flashback sequence ended...


He cautiously tailed the person which he presumed was killer-cleaner, now the question was, how was he sure it was the killer? Sure he still had his detective-level cyberspace deck, which allowed him to access mugshots and past convictions. And there he was, the killer-cleaner. The person who he presumed was trying his best to kill random people on Sundays.


Then again, the evidence was quite solid...


Flashback...


So this is the club, this dingy old shack is the omni-club? This was actually stupid, the name was extremely deceiving. Deceiving it was, but there was a task to accomplish.


There was a big, burly bouncer guarding the entrance. He has a Holo-pad on his arm, suggesting that they were only taking in guests. It seemed like entrance would be a lot harder than expected. But then again, for a guy like Marcus, it was a nibble of microbe.


He went up towards the bouncer, who really just thought he was the average guy looking for some quick fix, it seemed like the bouncer's hands were fisted. Chances are, the checklist were all checked out and his hands were itching like he'll to pound somebody into a pulp. Luckily, for a hardboiled detective like Marcus, the matter wouldn't even escalate that far.


"Fuck you, moron. You have two choices: Either Utter submission or Death. You have three seconds to answer." He said as he pulled up his M191000 against him.


He was met with a huge jab.


BAM!





And Marcus went flying towards the ground, landing with a thud. Damn it! The day was going nice and he now has a bruise on his cheek. The bouncer closed in on him, and it was minutes before he was going to be stomped. Marcus quickly rolled away, his plan was simple. Bring out the nunchucks, kick this guy's assholes and send it down for brief visit in the anals of hell.


Before he could roll out his nunchucks and dish some real damage. He saw a humongous hook coming towards his way. He rolled away and was currently facing his back when he realized. Damn, He has a tactical advantage right now, and this bouncer was going to be down in the dumps right now.


With a thrust kick to the back of his knees, he fell down with a sharp shriek before Marcus knocked him out with an elbow to his cranium.


He was really knocked out. Really very knocked out. Marcus bought out his notebook from his pocket, before writing a simple and concise 'man down' into a page before tearing it and laying it down beside him.


He then proceeded to the club, once he entered, oh damn. It gave him a lot of nostalgia. It was just like when he took down Kash-King. Anyways, it was the more dirtier version of the Madoffwosleksy club, the most dirtiest club in Sector #1.


And everything that happened, went by like a blur. There were laser shots all around the place. And then there was grenade, a crucial point in a skirmish, a one vs. Everyone skirmish to be precise.


Marcus leant next to the table before asking the club host, one question.


"Where is Bongo Jackson?"


Flashback sequence end...


He carefully tailed him around the numerous alleyways he seemed to go through until finally, Marcus decided to confront him, the killer-cleaner has to meet his debut, his early debut.


"Hey, catch this!" He said as he threw a folded page towards him. He caught it before suspiciously reading it.


There was only a word in it. A single word.


"Sucker"


Before he could look up, he was hit in the head with a plasma nunchaku, which was the thing he deserved so very fully. And then, he was dead like a fly caught in a mouse trap. No heartbeats whatsoever. Marcus laid a 'quick-tronic industry's' instant body dissolving solution, it was quite a weird and unusually small machine which you had to fix onto a dead person, who's effectively brain dead and whose brain cells are rapidly degenerating, for two-three minutes. Before it (the body) finally dissolves into a pool of bodily liquids, all green in colour. The mechanisms this machine uses are quite simple, first, the thing (the piece of machinery) scans the body to check if it's really dead. Then it re-scans the body to confirm it again, an alive person really doesn't want to get dissolved, cause it really hurts, much like diarrhoea, except stuff are oozing from all sides of hour body and before you know, your intestines are coming out of your asshole, all the while it gets disintegrated.


Then again, it was just another very normal and ordinary day In...


NEON CITY

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

- Downtown, Overlooking the Mart -

​

"Itsuka mirai o yasashiku tsutsumu no nara~" Paska sang softly to herself as she loaded 9.76mm AP slugs into a magazine. The cold wind from her little perch overlooking the 'Mart' deep downtown gently blew against the waterproof hood she had pulled up over the head. Her eyes shielded behind the protective lens of her gasmask. A dull red glow showed up over her eye, displaying simple information such as wind speed, direction, humidity and temperature. The mouthpiece also served as a voice modulator, masking her voice by jarbling it up.


"Now then..." Paska muttered as she slid the last round into the magazine and slotted it into her sniper rifle. A deft pull of the charging handle loaded the round into place. Paska gave the buttstock a slight tap before a barely audible whine indicated the plasma rails were powering up. She made a mental note to check the circuitry of the plasma generator later as she peered through the scope of her rifle and started adjusting for the wind. Her client was very.... precise with their instructions.

- 4 hours earlier -


- Sector #2 Residential District -
​

"Tadaima...." Paska sighed as she entered the simple apartment in the District #2 Residential Sector. She tossed her briefcase and kicked her evil, evil heels away. Formal office wear is a killer and she hated heels in particular. But a job's a job and credits make the world go round. And in this case, pays the rent. Of course, she had her... other job to fall back on but it pays to have a little extra credits. After a quick shower and a simple meal consisting of something canned, she fired up her personal programming deck and started surfing the web.


"Nothing new.... Nothing new.... Nothing... Hm?" Paska's attention was caught by a hidden notification in a "Gaming" forum. After glancing around, she quickly set up a private micro-server to have some online privacy and started reading the message. It was short. It was simple. It was a job offer from a regular client of her's.





-HW. Its me. I have another job for you. Another minor problem I need you to fix. You see, a couple of guys started selling Foolkiller on my part of the Mart. AGAIN. I need them gone AND I want to send a message. I want the smartass who thinks its a good idea to sell on MY territory's balls shot off. Let that sunavabitch die ball-less. Do that, and all 400 credits are yours. Of course, I will wire 160 credits for the initial pay. Just get the job done.- DrC


Paska studied the target's picture and thought for a moment before rapidly typing in a reply. This job was simple. A small smile crept on her face as she read the extra objective given. This is going to be fun.

- Downtown, Overlooking the Mart -

​

"There you are, Kintama-san..." Paska muttered as she licked her lips. Her target and his merry gang were in her sights. The crosshairs of her scope hovered over his head. She smirked slightly as she adjusted her aim down to his groin. Her finger curled around the trigger and she held her breath. She squeezed the trigger and sent a 9.76mm plasma slug sailing through the air, liberating her target of his prized possessions before the report even reached his ears. Before his buddies could even panic, she squeezed off a few more rounds. Some nailing them in the head, others struck the chest cavity while the runners were shot in the Achilles's Tendon or the knee.


"I guess that'll do it. So long, Kintama-san.... I guess it should be Kintama-chan now. Ufufufu~" Paska chuckled as she quickly left the area. The job was done and a certain Humming Willow is now 400 credits richer. Just another day for a secretary-cum-coffee lady.

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

Downtown, in an abandoned warehouse somewhere in the Fourth Quadrant


“You idiot.”


Four shots in succession were fired. Two struck the wall next to the man’s head. The other two left its mark on the wall under the man’s other head. Selene twirled the twin pistols in her hands, smirking at the wetness that stained the man’s pants and trickled down the concrete. The fear etched on the man’s face couldn’t have been starker. Thanks to some creative rope tying, he dangled against the wall like an inverted y. People generally didn’t end up like that unless they pissed the Selene off.


Selene was pretty pissed at the moment.


“You-”


Shot


“-stupid-”


Shot


“-meddling-”


Shot


“-idiot.”


Shot


“Um, boss? Typically we ask questions before shooting again.”


Selene didn’t bother looking as she whipped her arm towards the voice and pulled the trigger. She wouldn’t hit him anyway, and he wouldn’t let himself get hit. She lowered her arms and turned to face her bespectacled second-in-command, pale-eyes swirling with annoyance and just a little hint of madness.


“I don’t need to ask questions to things I already know, Taka-kun,” she said matter-of-factly, before turning back to her little rat of a fool. “John Harris, 39, works daytime at the Mart, regular user of Foolkiller, and just recently… a fledgling smuggler who thought dealing in my territory was a smart thing to do. Tell me, Johnny boy. Do you feel smart?”


“No! No, ma’am I was just--”


Selene shot, enough to graze the man’s already bald head and draw blood. The trickle down below got a little stronger. “Did I ask for a ******* explanation? It was a simple yes or no question, for Pete’s sake! Was that so hard to understand?”


She spun in place, gazing at each of the Moonies perched against the ruined blocks of the opposite wall. All of them were snug in a hoodie of their chose, of all colors and designs. Each answered to her question with either a nod, a grin, or a thumbs up. A smile flared on her face, canines showing, pride gleaming in her eyes. All of them were miscreants, outcasts, the dregs clinging on the bottom of society’s ass. And yet they were her treasured people, and she was their proud leader -- The Pale-Eyed Princess, of the Half-Lidded Moon Gang.


Once she finished her rotation, she fixed a maddening gaze on the man and said, “Let me repeat the question once again. Maybe you’ll get it this time. Do. You. Feel. Smart?”


“N-No!”


“Good. Alright then! That’s all I needed to hear,” Selene said with a wave, walking away from the wall riddled with countless bullet holes and an equal number of blood stains.


“Wait. T-That’s it?” the man squeaked out.


“Uh, yeah.”


“S-So… You’ll let me go?”


Selene froze mid-step. “Hmmm... I honestly don’t know, Johnny Boy. What does the Rule Book say, Irina?”


A girl wearing a black hoodie jumped down from her perch and stepped into the light. Her face was hidden beneath the hood, but the strands of her silvery hair was visible enough. “Meddlers go through re-education with the gang, for their personal betterment,” she said with a voice as smooth as ice.


Whether through fear or desperation, hope filtered into the man’s words. “Y-You mean like a warning or s-something?”


The entire warehouse burst in laughter. Wild sounds that echoed against the rusting steel walls and sent spikes of fear driving into the man’s heart. It took them two seconds to calm down, and Selene had to wipe a couple of tears from her eyes. “Man, you’re a riot! I haven’t had a good laugh like that in a loooong while. Tell you what, I’ll handle your re-education myself as a favor. Hey, can someone get me my Ame-chan?”


The slim girl skipped back to the bloody wall, catching the purplish .22 long rifle without looking. Gulping down his mounting fear, the man managed to say, “W-What are you going to do with that?”


“Oh, this? Don’t worry, I’m not gonna shoot you with it,” Selene said, causing the man to sigh audibly in relief. “Besides, it’ll just be a waste of bullets. I have something more cost-effective.”


She pulled back the top layer of the shoulder stock, revealing the rubbery handle of a standard-issue military combat knife. Selene drew it from the stock, then handed back the rifle to Taka who stood near her. The blade was black, with a serrated edge and two thin red lines running along the flat. With a grin, Selene flicked a switch right by the handle, and the steel began to hum and glow. She brought it close to the man’s face, letting him hear the light sizzles when his sweat evaporated against the intense heat.


“Once I’m done re-educating you, you’ll be a smarter man than before, Johnny Boy. You’ll be smart enough to remember that Selene won’t tolerate stupidity a second time. You got me? Judging by the froth on your mouth, I’d say we’re good to go! Now, where do I start~? Oh, I know! How about an extra service? Why don’t I cauterize your little friend down there so you won’t piss your pants ever again~?”

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Lana flicked the ash of her cigarette down upon the ground and sighed to herself. The lights around her beamed down with an glow of neon. Around her lay the bodies of ten people and one was upon his knees, hands behind his head. "Why did you think I wouldn't put everything together?"


The man shivered in fear as he lowered his head further. He remained silent as Lana took her cigarette and put it out upon his forehead. The man bit down into his lip as it burned but, remained quiet still from the pain. "Tough bastard even in your final moments..." Lana said as she lit up another cigarette and began to think of the earlier hours.


--- two hours earlier ---


Lana and her team of three had been working together for awhile. They'd accomplished a fair deal of job together and complimented one another well. However, their last job just a few hours before now had gone south. They'd lost their medic in the scuffle. Though the job was finished they now waited for their contact at the coordinates they had received to complete the job.


Of her team remaining, one was calm and collected and the other was on the verge of freaking out. "Man! None of this shit feels right. What the hell happened there!?" The one freaking out said as Lana shook her head. "We lost a good member today but, thats it. Thats just how things are." She said to him as the freaking out member pulled out a stim and injected it into himself so he could relax a bit more.


"A job is a job and sometimes things go wrong or right in some cases." The other male said seemingly both calm and confident. Lana raised an eyebrow but, lit up a cigarette herself shaking her head. "Our fixer is late..." She said looking towards the alleys around them. "And this area feels too open..." They were situated within a street market that was closed for the evening.


The one whom had been freaking out rubbed his upper arm and shoulder, where he had injected himself. He shook his head then sighed. "Man this entire thing reeks..." He said seemingly calmer now. Lana only nodded in response everything felt off to her as well.


There was suddenly the sounds of footsteps heavy and weighted which caused all three of them to draw their weapons. Lana held onto her two pistols and sighed, "Either she is dead or she betrayed us..." Lana said, mentioning she being their fixer. Lana aimed towards an alley and fired her guns just as another mercenary popped out to begin an ambush.


Killing that one and moving to fight the others, Lana didn't notice what was happening behind her. Her teammate whom had been freaking out moments earlier was rushing to engage an enemy with his sword. However, the calmer one fired his submachine gun into his back ending the life of their drug addict.


Lana turned to give orders only to witness the final moments of her friend. She wanted answers and to torture the one whom had dares betray them as well. Using her guns and firing out a hail of bullets she attacked.


Lana isn't sure how long it took, was it minutes? An hour? Longer? To end the lives of those whom had been sent after her and her team. She dragged the unconscious body of the traitor into the center of the ruined market where the bodies of the first few dead had laid. She herself had two rounds hit into her right shoulder and it was similarly cut up and bloodied.


She kicked him awake and leveled her gun at his head with her left hand. "Well now, this should be fun..."


--- present once more ---


Lana punched the guy hard into his jaw as one of his teeth flew out of his mouth upon impact with the ground. She then stomped on his head with her boot twice. "Ugh, what should I do?" She said as she then smirked to herself. She pulled out the vibroknife she had taken from her dead friends body and then stabbed it into the traitors right shoulder. His right arm was made of cyberware and she grinned as he screamed in agony. She began separating the metal arm from his flesh and laughed gleefully as the traitor screamed.


Blood flowed upon the ground as Lana placed the arm over her shoulder. She then brought it down and smashed it into the traitor's head. "Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself you bastard!" She said repeatedly as she bashed his head into the concrete. She huffed slightly and dropped the bloodied metal arm, the ground now soaked in blood and brain matter.


Lana stepped away after looting the many corpses from her narrow victory. She wondered if her fixer was similarly dead as well and sighed as she then mounted her motorcycle. She threw a grenade upon the ground as she then sped off to return to her apartment. The grenade exploded destroying the bikes of her fallen teammates. "I need a drink..." She said as she drove off from the downtown sector to return to her own apartment within the first level.

 

[Wood]

"Gordon?" The man looked over his shoulder at the fellow sitting on his couch. "Do you ever think about what happens after we die?" The man tap-tap-tapped two powders, one white and one a light shade of purple together in a mortar, carefully as to not stain his bathrobe.


A band called "The Bungaleers" was playing at a loud volume on the television set. Nobody but Gordon was watching as the four suited men stomped out their latest single, "The Girl from Quadrant 4" with their guitars held firmly at their chests and their matching hairstyles unmoving in spite of the way they shook their knees. The Munchies-O'-Matic whirred slightly in the background as it mixed a slurry of ingredients into something that looked remarkably like a chicken curry when one considered it was made from a vat of powder


"If I'm the k-k-k-king of her heart," sang the men.





Gordon considered the question. Sure, he had thought about it. Didn't everyone? He had jacked into a daytime program the other day which starred a portly woman claiming that she had gone to Heaven, but he didn't put much stock into those bargain decks.





"Why does she k-k-k-eep away?"





"Nothing much, I would guess. Lot like being asleep." Gordon spoke with a nasally tone, the last syllable of every phrase rising as if it were a question. The curry solution sprayed out of the dispenser and into the bowl of a small silver table waiting beneath, which promptly rolled over to the dealer.


"That c-c-curvy girl from Quadrant Four" The men bashed out something resembling a guitar solo, the din of screaming teenagers masking their mistakes.


The man stopped his tapping and slid the mixture into a plastic sandwich bag, tying it off with a plastic ring. "Nothing much for you, Gordon. But life goes on for the rest of us." He dangled the bag from between his thumb and his ring finger. "And if the Moonies find you in their territory, goofed up on my shit they're gonna carve those weird fucking augs outta you and come for my ass and just my ass if I'm lucky."





Gordon perked up and grabbed at the baggy, the dealer holding it high above his head. He pushed Gordon backwards onto the velvet couch, his head banging against the wall. "I'm not going Downtown, you Bogart. I'm just going down to Fat Roxie's for some..." Gordon paused. "For some sugar, there's this girl with adjustable tits I'm after." The words sounded false coming from Gordon, the way his hair was combed over to hide his growing bald spot and the acne scars dotting his chin. Nobody had any doubt that this was a lie.


Resigned, the dealer threw the bag into Gordon's lap and took a sip of the curry, the table scurrying away and folding itself under another larger permanent table. "I'm going to trust that you're a man of your word, Gordon, because if you fall off some fucking building climbing around like an idiot and the Moonies think I'm dealing on their turf, I'm going to impregnate you myself before they come for my balls."





Gordon nodded eagerly and fondled the bag, pleased with it's purity.





"Mind if shoot it up here?"





"Take a bump and tell me what you think, but I'll be fucked before I let you shoot here. I got kids, you know?"





"Yeah, where are they?"





"How the hell would I know? Mal's got them tonight, I'm meeting Johnny here in a few hours."

Gordon's Apartament



​

Gordon sat on the folding tray he called a kitchen table, the tourniquet around his arm cutting into the soft flesh. He squirmed with anticipation against the jumpsuit he was wearing under his clothes, flames and eagles sewn into the fabric. He watched with extreme caution as the mixture of Foolkiller, extra black lace and citric melted down into a sludge. He adjusted his safety goggles to be tighter and the plastic bib to be looser. Gordon always took the correct safety precautions, just as they taught him in his Chemistry 101 class. Tonight was a big night. He needed to protect Johnny, and Foolkiller was in short supply, being throttled through Half-Lidded Moon Gang territory. It was rare that somebody still had the balls to smuggle in the Fourth Quadrant, and Gordon couldn't risk his supply running dry.


Slowly, he found a soft vein and drew the tar into his syringe. He couldn't help but smile at how scared he was the first time, and now he performed the operation as well as any hard boiled addict. He pressed the needle into his arm, still wincing slightly as it parted his flesh and mixed his blood into the chamber. With only a moment's hesitation, he pressed the applicator and electricity filled his veins. The world seemed smaller, almost; Or was he larger? The fire grew in his stomach. Gordon placed his mask in his jacket pocket


He left his apartment and boarded a bus travelling downtown. Tonight, Dr. Thrill was going to catch himself a Moonie.

 

[Elephantom]

MARCUS' OFFICE | DISTRICT #2 | SECTOR [CLASSIFIED]


Marcus looked at the pistol that was left astray in his desk, it was pretty worn out from overuse, but it was still a memoir of his old days, most people don't even use the M19000 anymore. Maybe someday, he could contemplate suicide, but today wasn't that day, or tomorrow wasn't that day, or day after tomorrow wasn't that day, just simplifying everything, he wasn't going to contemplate suicide for a long time, but thinking it again, his job was and is suicide anyway. He picked up his pistol before putting it back into his holster, might need it in a nifty, who knows? Better be safe than sorry.


He then proceeded to look into his wallet, frowning at the sight of it, unfortunately, he only had 300 bucks with him and owner was going to come to his house to collect his 200 credits due rent. With a possible 50 credits interest, which will leave him with only 50 credits and the title 'broke'. As he was about to scram for the fire ladder because he heard someone in extremely audible heels coming over to his room in the apartment, and then he heard someone knock on the door, maybe it was the owner, maybe it wasn't the owner, and there was only one way to find out. He tapped into his holographic wrist projector, which displayed a series of commands, he tapped into his house before using his eye for the retinal scanner to verify. Once the verifying process was done, he got the precise lead on the emergency camera system which scoured the hallways. Fortunately, it was just another damsel in distress. He turned off his holographic projector before opening the door for her, through which, the female entered and took a seat on one of his chairs in front of his desk. After she took her seat, he went for his own seat, to began the talks, of course. See what she had to say around here.


"What happens to bring you around these parts?" He said with a subtle tone, obviously he wasn't in the mood to play the washed out detective, he really wasn't, he was just going to play the regular detective doing his regular job.


"I need you to find a missing person, Johnny, who's gone missing in the fourth quadrant. No questions asked, just do the job. I'll pay you 150 credits upfront. Be fast, he's in grave trouble, I heard he's being emasculated." She said, her voice as smooth as silk yet as sharp as lime, as she slipped a bill towards him before moving out of his office. Well, it seemed like she was in a hurry, and quite truthfully, he was in a hurry too. He took the cash before taking his trench coat which he wore, it was one of his trademarks. He then proceeded to exit his office and go out onto the street.


As soon as he entered the street, damn the loud music, the town was bustling around as usual, but there was loud music and construction going around there. He briskly, and quite hastily too, went over to the main road where he hailed a cab, who stopped. He quickly entered it, and looked at the driver.


"Hurry to the downtown area, fourth quadrant and look for a possible abandoned warehouse where illegal activities maybe going on. And take a stop next to ammunition shop. There's a guy on danger, he's being emasculated." He hastily said as the cab moved on along the cold streets of Neon city.


40 MINUTES LATER | VORTEX GUN-SHOP | DISTRICT #3 | SECTOR #2


Marcus stood next to the owner as he bargained for the price of seperate clips. The driver waited patiently, for him to finish his shopping.


Marcus finally decided on buying:


3 clips of M19000 laser rounds- 60 credit


3 clips of M19000 Compatible Shock rounds- 90 credits


total price- 150 credits


Left with- 300 credits


2 HOURS LATER | DOWNTOWN DISTRICT | SECTOR [CLASSIFIED] | SUB-SECTOR FOURTH QUADRANT | ABANDONED WAREHOUSE


Marcus gave the driver his fare, which was approximately 20 credits before exiting the vehicle. He was now in front of the supposed warehouse where heinous deeds were going on, and he was going to put a single effective stop upon it.


He tightly grasped his pistol before moving into the warehouse, with a kick to the door, a breaching process if you're feeling tacky. He aimed the gun at everyone as he showed his badge before tucking it back into his pockets.


"Hands up everyone, this is detective Marcus on the case, who has definitive evidence on this one about your forced genitalia removal ring... Hey, wait a minute! You're the half-assed moon-toilet gang. You're already an outlawed bunch, aren't you?" He said, with a slight smirk. The odd were against him, but he had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

- Downtown Sector, 4th Quadrant Warehouses -



​

"Now then... I need to see what's wrong with the plasma generator of this thing... I hope its not busted..." Paska muttered as she skulked around warehouses. Keeping an eye out of any blind spots that might give her some peace and quiet or even worse, hide a threat. An ambush is the last thing Paska wants to face and being ambushed Downtown means certain death or worse.


Of course, Paska is also aware of the fact that she's in Half-Lidded Moon Gang territory. Her mind was already coming up with an entire archive's worth of excuses ranging from "Just passing through, I didn't see anything" to "I just shot a guy's nuts off cause he's dumb enough to sell in someone else's territory and I just want to go back home to watch some TV." Paska knew that being honest could spare you... Or get you killed anyway so she's prepared to even pay with either her hard earned credits or, better yet, information.


"So... Let's see where I can hide around here....?" Paska muttered to herself as she stopped for a moment to look around. She spotted a half-rusted ladder leading up to the roof of a warehouse. She glanced around and quickly climbed up the ladder and settled herself behind a ventilation shaft. She then quickly got to work, disassembling the rifle's buttstock. She frowned.





"Cyka.... The capacitor's almost fried.... Its a miracle this thing didn't explode earlier...." Paska swore as she carefully removed the faulty capacitor and absentmindedly chucked it down the ventilation shaft. It made a echoing rattle as it clanked down the shaft. Paska ignored it and focused on replacing it with a spare capacitor. Once done, she hesitantly activated the rifle. It worked perfectly, down to the barely audible hum as the plasma rails came to life. She quickly put the rifle back together with a smile.


"Now to head back..." She said, reaching for her pack.

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

- Downtown Sector, Moonie HQ -

​

“Hmmm… You’ve already fainted? That’s a big no no. Hearing you scream is an important part of re-education! Then again, you’ll scream for me soooooon enough…”


The tip of the knife had just burned a hole through the denim when the door to the warehouse banged open. Then walked in someone who was entirely too old and too cocky for her liking. Arrogant prick waved around a badge and a gun like he owned the place. And he was completely unoriginal. A red eye? Really? At least Selene had two, and with a lovely shade of pale green.


Most annoyingly, he reminded her too much of those stuffy suits back in the First District. Speaking like he knew everything there was to know about everything. She hated that kind of person the most. It didn’t help that this man’s reputation was well known to every Moonie worth his or her salt.


She turned her gaze to the intruder, grinned, and then, still gripping the knife, raised her hands. As one, the rest of the Moonies whipped out their assortment of firearms and aimed each sight and each barrel at the so-called detective. Taka was gripping Ame-chan one-handed, long barrel pointed directly at the man’s chest. Irina had her throwing knives out, though Heaven knew why the girl hadn’t picked up a gun yet.


“Good evening, Officer Marcus. Or should I say Private Investigator Marcus?” she greeted. “There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding right here. See, I’m actually doing the police a favor. This guy here? He’s a smuggler, and I have definitive evidence of his activities around this quadrant, though we still can’t trace who his supplier is. So if I were you, I’d let this little Girl Scout do her rightful duty and uphold the peace her own way~”


All while she was talking, her thermal vision was active. She glanced around the place, looking fidgety and bashful, while actually looking for any other unfamiliar heat signatures just in case Mr. Marcus brought along some back-up. Unsurprisingly, there was someone up on the roof, though the person wasn’t exactly the best in hide-and-seek. Every person in the room heard that clanging in the ventilation shaft.


“So," she said, her grin widening. "Why don’t you call down your partner up there on the roof and let’s agree that Johnny Boy here is the real bad guy? Then I’ll hand him over to you, once I’m done with him of course, and we can all go home happy. What do you say?”

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Lana eased up into the quadrant four also known as half-moon territory. She shook her head wondering why she was going here exactly. Was it simply the closest place to get both her arm patched up without questions and that they probably had enough drugs to make her forget the last week? Yeah, seems legit. All Lana really wanted right now was to forget, the betrayal she just received still stung her terribly.


Lana eased into a area near the Half moon HQ, she rubbed her right shoulder which still lightly bled but, had slowed down considerably. "Hope I won't need to shell out for a replacement Arm... Should have kept the other one then..." She shook such thoughts from her mind and pressed a button on the motorcycle activating an anti theft shocking field. So that only her fingerprints could use it.


Lana headed towards the place, her right arm slowly becoming less and less useful. Just as she arrived near the Entrance she was heading towards she saw another kick the door in and start shouting something. "Crap, is this a suicide attempt or a diversion for some police thing..." She assumed believing that the person whomever it was, was either a cop or insane. "Maybe both?"


Lana moved towards the same door quietly as she could and pulled out her dual pistols once more. She shifted her head into the doorway to get a better viewpoint and noticed all the armed people. She thought quickly to herself of what was the best option so she quickly stepped into the doorway and moved behind the lone person and attempted to sweep her right leg downward to knock him upon the floor.

 

[Wood]

Gordon had always hated riding the bus. He fidgeted with the mask in his pocket as the filth encrusted vehicle meandered downtown. On the inside, Advertisements coated every possible surface. Two apple cheeked children held their spoons high between Gordon's feet, their faces red from the rush of eating whatever was in the bowl between them. "Golly!" The fatter one exclaimed. "Where would we be without Gorp's Gruel?" Radios mounted on the wall played tinny music, ads and safety reminders, imploring the passengers to be courteous to a "resource that we all share and depend upon."


"That's funny, coming from the speaker that somebody wrote Titmonster on." Gordon swung his legs, the cocktail of stims growing stronger by the second. It was unbearable to just be sitting. As the bus drifted into Industrial zones, people began to get off in droves for their night shifts. He was observing the way the blood felt in his hands when an older woman sat next to him, the extraneous tissues on her arms and legs pressing Gordon into the armrest. The soon-to-be-masked vigilante looked through the windows, and when the woman began to munch on a pungent snack Gordon squeezed himself from the bind and pushed his way to the driver, pulling on the bell as he walked.


"Sir, I work in this abandoned warehouse. Would you mind stopping here?" Gordon yelled, as politely as possible.


"The one Dick Tracy just kicked into?" Inquired the driver, noticing the way somebody had breached the door with gun held high.


"Yeah. Hehe. Flamboyant guy, huh?"


"Alright, just this once."


Gordon placed a few credits on the dashboard and fled the bus. He walked down the sidewalk, watching the warehouse in his peripheral vision. There didn't seem to be too much noise, but if somebody's entering what appeared to be a "Smedly's Powder" warehouse ready for a shoot out it seemed wise to investigate. As inconspicuously as possible, the suited man swung into an alley and stripped out of his oppressive street clothes, revealing the skin tight jumpsuit underneath. It was a gaudy affair, a purple base with eagles and flames haphazardly stitched onto the cheap fabric, a squealing hawk wrapped around his midriff like roadkill and a cape upon which "Pow!" was written in a huge green font. It was painfully homemade, but that was all part of the fun- He wouldn't be taken seriously until it was too late.


From his satchel, Gordon withdrew a leather cylinder, hands shaking in anticipation. He had never been one for guns, mostly because he was a terrible shot. His flexible joint aug made his fists as powerful a weapon as any, but sometimes he just needed an extra kick of flare.


He flicked his wrist, the blade folding out and locking into place in only a few seconds. He admired the supple curves, the long streaks of red. Gordon knew of three absolute truths in this life. That he will die, that he will be taxed, and that nothing is more badass than a flaming katana. As a final touch, Gordon withdrew his powder bag from his satchel. He held his blade horizontally across his left arm, and with his right he poured a tablespoon of the stuff onto the blade. Greedily, he inhaled every crystal.





The man slipped the mask over his face, and Gordon turned to dust. In his place stood the glorious, the marvelous, Dr. Thrill.





Fire in his veins and a spring in his step, he inspected the building. The front door was, obviously, no longer an option. He preferred to enter as quietly as possible, preserve the element of surprise. He especially wanted to avoid finding himself employed. The air duct on the ceiling seemed like a good choice, but making too much noise could be dangerous. Against all conventional wisdom, Dr. Thrill decided that slipping in through the back door unannounced was the best course of action.


Entering through the docking bays proved to be a simple enough task, the rusted gates proving to be little challenge for Dr. Thrill's power of entering through the unlocked door. He took a moment to listen. There was definitely a commotion going on, lots of people in the larger room directly ahead.


Dr. Thrill banged his leg. A thin sheet of webbing spread between his fingers, thousands of hairs seemingly growing from his flesh in an instance. Gordon had dug through the trash for dinner for 2 months to afford this toy, and Dr. Thrill appreciated it very much.


The man stuck his hands to the wall, one at a time, and lifted himself off of the ground and onto the wall. He poked his head into the main auditorium, and it became obvious very quickly that this was the worst possible scenario. There was Johnny, a centimeter away from being emasculated, more Moonies than he had ever seen in his life and some old man waving a gun around.


Dr. Thrill was no coward. He would announce himself, try to get someone to monologue, grab Johnny and get out. He dropped off the wall and held his hands high. He stepped into the room, and did his best to come up with something witty. He would just roll with whatever came out.





"Wahh! Euggh, wwahhhHHhhhH! WAHHH!!" His baby crying impression had seen better days.

 

[Elephantom]

Yep, that was the line, that was the last straw. She crossed the line as she took that action, he kicked a licensed private investigator in the back of his shin, and to put salt on that wound, he even fell to the cold metal ground, it was extremely humiliating, at least to him it was. He looked at the woman, before looking at himself. His face was frowned beyond limit.





You're reading that right. He fell down on the hard metallic ground, some might say that maybe he was clumsy, but that wasn't the case in here, he was kicked by a woman, apparently, for doing his respective job. She shouldn't have done that, and she was going to regret that terribly, well, Marcus was already a really volatile person and he only killed one person later this day, and that wasn't even enough to curb his highly inflammatory mood, and to top that off, he was punched by a man, straight in the face.





THUD!





He hit the floor, to be precise, mostly his back hit the ground. But still, it hurt, and it wasn't going make him any happier. He was close to craziness, ever so close to falling into the abysmal depths of pure insanity.


He hastily got off the ground before instantly going for his nunchucks, which he tightly grasped before revealing it and then twirling it as it turned on, covering a small radius around him with a blue hint of glow. He hit the metal wall beside him multiple times, producing significant numbers of metal sparks.


"You. Half-assed. Toilet-worshipping. Shithead!" He angrily yelled at her. Of course, this was all just a simple distraction. Once he said that, with his weapon poised for attack, he immediately rolled towards a row of crates before vaulting over it than mantling over over a stack of crates and another stack of crates before jumping down into the flat ground, yep, it was Indiana Jones all over again as shots flew by everywhere, and then, he landed before Johnny and Mr. Thrill. Yeah, he knew Mr. Thrill, every cop and law enforcement officer knew him, and he also had a few charges against him, but he escaped due to his dumb luck, but that wasn't going to happen any longer, at least for now, he was safe mostly because of a mutual situation. And there was another half-assed moon toilet-eer. He threw a piece of rebar at her before looking at thrill.


"Mr. Thrill, this is P.I Marcus, we have to escort Johnny out of this hell-hole. The Toilet-worshippers will riddle us with holes if we don't escape using..." He said as he showed his badge to him before he looked around for some exit point, and he saw one, simple backdoor which was left open, and gave an old-fashioned access to the quadrant five, but one must first use the adjoining bridge or fall to their deaths inside the pit. And there was a propane tank, which was, fortunately, hissing like hell and nobody noticed it. Using a final manoeuvre, he pushed Johnny, he had opened him up before that but he was shivering with panic of the potential genitalia removal, now as I was continuing, he dragged him and pushed him into a wheelchair which was strategically positioned next to him, possibly for easier movement for Johnny wouldn't probably be able to walk after he was to get emasculated, and he did all of this while throwing pieces of debris and rebar at the gangster. He gestured Mr. Thrill to run outside before he aimed at the tanks, and with one faithful push of a trigger, he... Missed. Damn it, he shot again and succeeded as the tank's now point of gas turned into fire which would slowly spread to the other tanks and their respective gas and then... BOOM! Abandoned warehouse before, no warehouse afterwards.





"RUN!" He said as pushed the now seated Johnny and sprinted for the backdoors, it was a matter of life and death, and the odds were against him, but he wasn't going to give up, not after that heinous physical assault act, no.

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

"Alright... That should take care of it. Now then...." Paska muttered as she glanced over at a nearby skylight. She quietly crept over and slowly edged herself close to peer down at the ruckus and screaming downstairs. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of a suspended man's privates being threatened with a heatknife. She could tell that the little.... girl? Was enjoying herself and was beside herself with glee when a Detective type burst into the scene. The two exchanged some words and the girl glancing up at the roof.


"Chyort!" She cursed and was in the process of making a hasty escape when someone swept the Detective type off his feet with a simple shin kick! Paska was beside herself with barely suppressed giggling at the sight. It was even better then seeing the new intern trip over air and giving everyone in the office an eyeful of her interesting choice, or lack thereof, of underwear. Paska decided to get a move on. To make herself scarce before they send someone to escort her down when she heard a gunshot.


"Tch-! These nanban are crazy!" Paska swore as she took off towards the opposite side of the roof. Upon spotting a nearby ladder, she deftly swung over the edge and slid down the ladder. Landing..... Right in front of the warehouse's backdoor.

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

The firing started as soon as the old detective moved, yet Selene respected the sickening way he resembled an action hero. Bullets weren't hitting him, he was vaulting over those crates like nobody's business, and he somehow thought throwing rebars at her would scare her away. She jumped back, dodging the first one without problem. She would've dodged the second one just as easily, or shot it out of the air if needed, but then Taka threw out his arm. A loud clang resounded where the rebar hit it.


"I told you to stop doing unnecessary things," Selene said, glaring at him. "What happens if that arm of yours gets busted again?"


"You can fix it. After all, your family built it," Taka smiled, then pointed to the masked-weirdo-detective duo who was making away with Johnny Boy. "Though shouldn't you be worrying about them first?"


And there they were, rushing off to the warehouse's back door, where a bridge would lead them to Quadrant Five. Come to think of it, how did it get to Quadrant Five? Wasn't a Quadrant, by definition, a fourth of a whole? No matter. While Selene had no personal grudges against Old Guy and Masked Weirdo Baby Wannabe, and she really did intend to bring a junk-less Johnny back to the Mart, these punks entered into Moonie territory and stepped all over her authority. She couldn't have that now, could she?


But just as she was about to pound lead onto their legs, one of the pipes from the nearby propane tanks burst. It didn't take her two seconds to figure out what that crazy Old Guy would do next. "Moonies, scatter! Meet up in Cat's Cradle at the Second Hour the next day!"


The firing stopped almost immediately as one by one, the Moonies dashed for the various hidden exit points along the warehouse. Selene herself was running for the hole near the western wall along with Taka, but she turned back just enough to squeeze Izanami's trigger. Crazy old guy wanted to blow up the warehouse? Alright. Selene was feeling generous. She'd do it for him.


-------------------------------------------------------------


Irina grimaced. This was the second HQ they would lose in two months. It was getting harder and harder to find suitable HQs for their operations, what with the other gangs and... other people encroaching on their territory. She'd have to talk to Selene and Taka about taking a more aggressive stance on this. But for now, if she knew her boss well enough, Selene intended to blow up the entire place along with the private investigator, tights man, and John.


She was about to exit through the southern wall, but something caught her attention. Or rather, someone. There was a girl at the front door, probably the one who swept the detective's legs from under him. Irina had no reason to help the girl get away; she was probably already more than capable of doing so. But as the first blasts of heat and sound came, her legs hummed, launching Irina towards the girl with the speed of a rumbling train. Without warning, she grabbed the girl by the scruff of her neck and dragged her from the door just as the explosions began in earnest.

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Lana was not having a good evening, oh sure explosions and death are her forte but, now she had to figure out an entirely new place to go. The detective, that's what she was assuming now, had not only risen quickly and whipped out some energy nunchucks but, had used them so effectively that she was certain the guy was also a ninja. Considering his ability to just dodge bullets that were flying around him and make off with two others.


Two others one of whom seemed confused as to what was exactly happening but was eager to be free from his bindings. The other a masked wrestler with flaming katanas. Seriously what is with these weird combinations? She thought as she herself had attempted to fire at them with her own guns as well.


The explosive piping was a key thing that caught her attention. Now hearing that everyone was bailing out. She began to turn away back to the door she entered, only to be grabbed from behind and pulled out it as well. She then moved away the warehouse as it started a chain reaction of explosions to make blow up sky high.


Lana looked at the person whom had grabbed her and held her right arm which was getting close to the useless stage. "Hey thanks for that I guess..." She looked at the woman up and down with her eyes before turning to head to her motorcycle. "I have a motorcycle we can use if you want to get back to your gang." She said calmly while casting a glance towards the girl. "I'm Lana, some folk call me Val as well, I'm just a simple mercenary looking to get so drunk she forgets the past month." She then moved her slightly limp arm. "And get this fixed," she figured being mostly honest to her reasons for being there was the best idea. After all she had stepped onto the gangs territory but, wasn't set to fight them at least this time.


Lana looked at the girl one more time as she went near the alley where her motorcycle was. "Let me deactivate the special anti theft system and you can drive if you want to head over to that bar." She said before going into the alleyway to do just that.

 

[Wood]

Dr. Thrill had never gotten such immense results with such a small gesture. Dick Tracy got sideswiped by a girl with a striking resemblance to a character from his erotic cartoons, goons started popping shots off, though nobody had began a convenient monologue for Dr. Thrill to escape with Johnny silently. It looked like that wouldn't be happening, as Dick Tracy vaulted over a crate and flashed his badge, which seemed like an unnecessary gesture given the circumstances. He simply nodded, and was ready to fire back an incredibly clever response when the Detective pushed Johnny away and began to sprint.


Such a display of cowardice wasn't without reason, and Dr. Thrill quietly inspected his surroundings. But first, Johnny was yelling about something. He'd have to get around to that. He could barely hear over the sound of his beating heart, and why was his suit getting so sweaty? It took more effort than he expected to walk over to Johnny. He pushed the fellow for a second, but soon decided to ride and sat on Johnny's lap, propelling them both out the door. Why were the walls closing in? Dr. Thrill wasn't the kind of man to get crushed in some sort of magical shrinking building, so he pushed on, faster this time. Johhny began to scream again, but clearly he couldn't see the way the pavement was convulsing.


But he couldn't abandon the Detective who had saved Johnny. He and Johnny sat, waiting in the wheelchair.





"Johnny! My name is Dr. Thrill!"


"I... would you get off of me?"


"Soon, Johnny, soon! But first, I know about your nefarious smuggling!"


"Do I know you? You sound a lot like that little fat guy who buys from-"


"Forget the little fat man, Johnny! I can get us both out of here, but only if you give me some Benzo right now."


"Are... Gordon?"





Dr. Thrill paused. Tonight was going very badly. He looked back down at the man underneath him.





"Just shut your mouth and give me yours Benzos or I'm going to have a seizure."


"Fine, dude, you could have just asked."





Dr. Thrill jumped from the wheelchair and made a triumphant pose, before triumphantly falling to his knees and vomiting with his mask around his nose. There was a reason the drug was called Foolkiller. The men watched the Warehouse ignite together, Johnny in his wheelchair and Dr. Thrill on his knees.

 

[Elephantom]

Marcus in a fit of desperate haste, noticed that both men were now sitting in the wheelchair, and they were awkwardly discussing about drugs. Marcus, then and there, figured out that they were both drug users, or to be precise, one of them was a drug dealer, the other was a drug user, ahem, a stupid drug user. Over the many years he had spent looking at crazy idiotic drug users, this one was by far, the most lackluster and foolish one. As he pushed the wheelchair, oblivious of the woman standing in front of him, he kept going on. As the explosion started, almost grazing his back as he did one last jump, landing on the hard metallic bridge. That was the second time that happened to him. Twice in the same situation, that was by far, the most magnificently lame day he had ever experienced.


He stood up from the ground before looking at the burning warehouse. His back was burnt quite severely, while they got off Scot-free, he suffered all the brunt of the explosion. His back was literally searing with an inflammatory pain.


He groaned a bit, as he stretched his neck. By far, this was the worst thing that happened to him in this day, his back was burnt, his trench coat was burnt and his shirt was partially burnt.


"Damn it!" He silently muttered under his breath as he massaged his temples. Now that the ordeal was finished, he had to arrest this two slackers, and any toilet-worshipper he may find.


As he was about to show his badge and cyber-cuffs to the two criminals, he was interrupted by an onslaught of...


"Robo-Force personnel?" He exclaimed as he looked at the squadron. It compromised of four elite members, which can easily be identified by their expensive armour.


Yep, they were currently in the Robo-oppressor's eyesight. That was until a volcano of flashy lights erupted from the squadron's back, who were now utterly dumbfounded. Than they were all dead, killed by a single penetrating shot, which was presumably from a rail gun system. He looked at the direction the fire came from, only to see...


"Jackal?" He confusingly said. He too, was dumbfounded. As jackal looked at his old buddy.


"Long time no see, pal." He said as he broke out of his trance. Jackal responded quite bluntly.


"You owe me a favour." He said that before disappearing off into the night. Marcus was about to ask him to take care of this two slackers. But then again, nobody would ever agree to babysit these two.


"Your on your own, kiddos." He said as, he too, disappeared off into the night and towards the main street. Probably to take a taxi and go off to his home. It was increasingly late, and he was feeling sleepy.

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

"Wha-?! Watch where you're going!" Paska cursed as she barely dodged the wheelchair that came barreling out of the warehouse. She wasn't really sure what she saw but all she knew was that the Detective type was pushing it but the odd blur sitting in the wheelchair was way to big to be 1 person. She shook that thought out of her head and decided to run after them. There's only a few reasons why people would run that fast. And things that are going to explode was pretty high on that list.


"Don't mind me!" Paska shouted as she ran past the group and disappeared into the maze of warehouses in quadrant 5. Once she was certain she was in the clear, she ducked into an empty warehouse and took off her gasmask for a moment to wipe away the sweat. She thought about the events that passed and started giggling.


"That was fun... Wow..." She gasped as she checked her gear. "I shot some guy's jewels off, did a rookie mistake and escaped an exploding warehouse.... This might be even more fun then my first job."


Once she's sure that all her things were in check, she slipped her gasmask back on and took off into the night, looking forward to a hopefully dreamless sleep. Her hope was suddenly interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. Startled, Paska's hand reached for her M191000 pistol and was about to draw it when she heard a familiar voice.





"Well, well.... If it ain't Humming Willow~ Been awhile eh?" A thick voice purred. Paska frowned as she pushed her pistol back into her holster.





"What do you want Kaisar...? I just finished a job..." Paska hissed a gasmasked man. He chuckled as he shrugged and put on what Paska assumes is a smug happy face. The man carried a rather large plasma shotgun on his back, a face obscuring gasmask with blue eye lenses and a nano-weave hood. A style Paska copied when she first started.





"Oh nothing much, Willow~ Just checking on my former partner. Y'know. Making sure she's alright and things like that." Kaisar said with a chuckle. Paska rolled her eyes and continued walking. Kaisar smirked as he watched her walk away.





"Heh. Same old Willow eh?" Kaisar said wistfully with a small chuckle before he went on his own way.

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

The explosion blew the roof off the warehouse and sent a heatwave that nearly singed the clothes off Selene's back. As it was, the scarred skin was exposed to the elements, and Taka didn't dare look at that charred spot on the skirt near her tailbone. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't; Selene's smile demanded all of his attention and caution. It was the same one she wore when she announced the first of many atrocities that would eventually topple the Fujiwara family to the ground.


"Hey, Taka?" she said, dusting off her arms while they ran farther away from the ruined warehouse. "What else do we know about that Marcus guy?"


Taka sighed. He knew this was coming. "There are stories running around that he had a wife who was murdered by some gang he busted. After that, he went a little mad and butchered the gang as vengeance. Now, he offers his services as a private eye. Some of our members have had brushes with him in the past, and they always had a hard time getting away."


"Uh-huh. Now tell me the reason why we should riddle him full of holes."


She knew exactly why, but Taka said it anyway. "Some rumors about us have been spreading within Downtown, something to do with... toilets. We're pretty sure that Marcus is responsible for starting it."


Selene chuckled. "It seems unfair that someone who's not a Moonie is telling others what being a Moonie is like. I want to fix that~"


"Whatever you're planning, it'll have to wait until everyone's accounted for at the Cradle," Taka said.


"I know, I know. It's a bit of a bummer that Irina isn't with us now. Oh well," Selena shrugged. "She'll find her way to us. She always does."


---------------------------------------------------


Irina studied the girl who had offered her a ride back to the gang. The offer meant nothing, since Lana, as she called herself, would never know where the Moonies were once they decided to disappear. Not only that, her arm was in a limp. It was clearly broken, and taking care of another person would just make things worse for her.


Then why did Irina go out of her way to make sure that Lana was clear of the blast? The girl meant nothing to her. She had never met her up until now. The only reason Irina could come up with was probably due to Lana's overall... feel. Asking her to put it into words now would be a futile endeavor.


Deciding that Selene needed her more, Irina let her legs hum with power, before dashing away from the scene before Lana could even notice. Maybe someday she could explain to herself what she felt. But tonight, it was a time for plotting revenge.

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Lana was too numb to truly care about the fact her back was scorched and was simply another injury on top of all the others this day. She deactivated the theft system and waited about a minute before getting onto the bike and sighing. "Well I'm just going to head to Seventh Heaven then," Lana revved the bike and took off quickly towards the first district.


She wasn't driving nearly as fast as she normally did, beyond the fact her arm was barely able to hold onto the bike, she was heading to the first level. Driving all the ready to sector 7 on said area she eventually stopped in front of the bar.


She lit up a cigarette just as two men from the bars entrance went to aid her. "So did anything go down here too?" She asked to which she received a simple Yes from one of them. She went into the bar with a sigh as she looked into the place.


The bar had fresh coat of bullet holes and spaces she assumed once had dead bodies near the door. She shook her head before heading to a pinball table and smacking it roughly only to be lowered into a secret or perhaps not as secret area beneath the bar. The room was larger than the bar itself and had a doorway which led into a hallway and other areas beneath it. Various Fixers she only had passing interest in were there stocking up for their own jobs. There was a clinic and surgical area for new implants which she was tempted to head straight for but shook her head. An area for purchasing arms and equipment, a tech area, all you could need under this bar.


Lana sighed as she approached the end of the long hallway and looked upon the door that was simply labeled "Fate" a door which she entered only to receive a pot thrown at her direction. She dodged it as it shattered against the wall looking at the angered person.


Apparently not as Angry as Lana assumed, a woman dressed in a expensive black dress eyed her somewhat. "Your late, I take it the others are dead?" She said surprisingly calm once more.


Lana nodded her head slightly, "Yeah, they didn't make it. Apparently Fin sold us out but, he won't be doing anything none that his brains are splattered all over the concrete." The other woman nodded before looking her over shaking her head.


She pointed down the hallway, "Go get patched up Val and get something to forget the evening I know you want to. Consider it on the house though you owe me for the damages upstairs." Lana simply nodded to herself before heading to get patched up.


Lana was provided with two options either to get her arm repaired for a simple and free operation. The other option being getting her arm removed considering its already heavily damaged state and replacing it with a cyber variant. She laid on her stomach as the doctor began fixing up her back and sighed debating the two options within her mind.

 

[Wood]

Dr. Thrill and Johnny simply looked to eachother. It had been a strange night for both of the men, and one of them had left it somewhat less man. This was becoming more apparent as their adrenaline began to wear off after the robot incident. The robo-patrol had arrived and was jousted so quickly that Dr. Thrill had no time to look up an stop vomiting, let alone perform any acts of heroism.


The man puled the mask around his nose and off his head, sticking a cigarette between his lips, the slight sweetness of the paper a pleasure given the night. He couldn't help but notice a certain... moisture on his back. Exactly from where he had been sat in Johnny's lap. He scraped some of the liquid off of his jumpsuit and brought it to his nose. It smelled metallic.


"Johnny?" Gordon was pensive, unsure if he was about to tell Johnny something he didn't actually want to know.


"What? Does this have something to do with the robots?"


"Err, no, not exactly. Do you... Are you... wounded?


"I mean, I guess I'm kind of sore from where she was... threatening me."


Gordon paused, stood and replaced his street clothes. He was Gordon Bronson again.


"We, I mean you, might want to take a look at it."


"I don't know man, it hurts a lot, I'm not sure I want to see it."


"Well, I mean, I can look at it... I guess...if you need to go to a hospital it's better that..."


"Are you gay, Gordon? Is that what you're after? A fucking warehouse blew up and you're trying to take advantage of your fellow man's trauma?"


Gordon fixed his hands around the handles of the wheelchair.


"Let's just find a bar and call someone to take you to the ER, ok?"


"Fine, whatever, I don't care."


The man pushed his friend through the downtown, blood trickling down Johnny's pant leg. They silently made a pact that they would take these events to the grave.

 

[Elephantom]

Marcus sat on his chair, yet again, he was waiting for someone to come in or something to come in. Or just something to happen. But as usual, things were never according to his plans or wishes. He slouched on his chair, looking at the streets below him, it was not much to look at except if you wanted to see some hobos wandering around a broke alley. Marcus closely examined the area, and finally realized that most of the hobos were either dead or decapitated, for which reasons are unknown, though Marcus could presume that some of the hobos ate their body parts, he just couldn't make a grim assumption like that.


He started to tinker around with his E-Pen when a large envelope came in through a slot in his door, it was pretty large, like three dozens of mails were stacked into it.


Marcus lazily stood up before trudging towards the door with a hunched shoulder. He wasn't really feeling that good, especially since his back was now black and burning, and his head was hurting from a punch from that thoughtless oaf and from repeatedly falling down on the metal ground. He picked up the envelope before opening it, only to see that it was a VCR Tape, which are currently obsolete. Who the hell uses VCR nowadays? And Marcus sure didn't have a VCR in his home.


He looked at the VCR before throwing it into one of his drawers in his old-fashioned desk. Maybe he'll take it to the museum tomorrow for a check up, but until then he had a job to do. And that was smoking.


He popped a cigar into his mouth before lighting it and taking a long drag from it, it was for taking out the undue stress that was building up in his mind. Part one of his nightlife phase was done. He then exited his house using his front door, of course. Before going for the street, with a paper in his hand. He was going to meet one of his informants, and bribe him to pass a rumour around town.


30 MINUTES LATER





"So, here's the bill, ya know what to say? The moonies are turning loonies and they want to sacrifice some virgin by drowning that person with toilet water. Pass the word. Now, shoo." He said as the informant made his way out of the sector to pass around the word in district #3 and the downtown. Marcus also went away, to his home. Part two of his nightlife phase was successfully accomplished.


45 MINUTES LATER





Marcus was now in his home, just dressing up after a shower, which is the one thing that he needed, especially after his fiery potential death. He could now rest in peace, knowing that the moonies probably can't rest in peace that night. He chuckled to himself before resting down into his couch. He needed a rest, a sleep to be precise.


He dozed off into a deep sleep soon afterwards.

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Lana was within the surgical area beneath the bar for some time. Her back was quickly repaired and Lana decided to go under the knife and have her arm replaced with a basic model of cyberware, which simply gave her a cool looking metal arm but, that was it. She flexed the metal hand staring at it as Fate came to check on her smoking a cigarette. "I see you went metal," she commented to which Lana nodded in return.


Fate gently placed a hand upon Lana's new metallic shoulder, "Come let's drink to those whom have fallen and curse those whom betrayed us." To this Lana quietly stood and prepared to forget the past few hours with the aid of a bottle of vodka.


It was only about hour later that Lana was completely wasted yet remained drinking. Fate watched on sipping a glass of wine far calmer than her drunken ally. "I give you ten minutes before you wake up doing something you regret." Fate said with a bit of laughter. Lana could barely handle a single strong drink without getting slightly tipsy, now she was on her third bottle of vodka.


Lana attempted to tell stories of her former groups jobs together, though her words merely ended up as slurs. Once it was about three A.M. She was passed out on the floor and half naked.


Fate rubbed her temples feeling slightly woozy herself in the attempt to keep up with Lana. "Get her a cot to rest on please," the Bartender nodded and carried Lana to a room for the evening before Fate herself went to rest herself.


Fate however stopped at her computer and typed upon the keys as she noticed some new jobs available. She blinked a few times, "These are interesting, Though they seem to be straight up assassination jobs." Fate pulled out a cigarette lighting it up before looking up the first target believing Lana could easily get back into gear with something simple until she felt ready to lead once again. "A Job is a Job, perhaps one of the boys would like some of these too? Hm..." Fate smiled before beginning to set up a series of jobs for her beloved fixers that she helped within the city.

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

Selene woke up feeling refreshed. Well, as refreshed as someone who survived a huge explosion could be. She was lying down on a bed of three-layered cardboard with a single flimsy sheet to keep out the cold. Her back was sore, but thankfully her clothes took the brunt of the damage. Unfortunately, she was left wearing tatters, so a change in wardrobe was necessary. The abandoned apartment unit they bunked in was devoid of drunkards and druggers, but the looters had almost licked the place clean of anything useful. It was her luck that she found a floral-patterned sun dress in surprisingly good condition.


She stripped out of her ruined clothes and slipped it on, tying her unruly pink-dyed hair into twintails, and taking some time to look at her reflection in the cracked mirror by the dresser. Nobody would expect the Pale-Eyed Princess to walk down the streets of Downtown wearing a dress with combat boots, twin thigh gun holsters, and finger-less gloves. And if they had something to say about it, Izanami and Izanagi were ready to hear it. With a ready retort of laser rounds.


"Well, I won't find anything better until we get to the Cradle. Better grin and bear it," she muttered.


Taka should be waiting outside the door to the room. Prick didn't feel like sleeping next to her, even if their combined heat would've helped stave off the cold. Then again, he probably didn't want to sleep in a room clearly made for someone's daughter. Dirty stuffed toys were piled up in one corner of the room. Pink wallpaper was peeling off the concrete walls. The closet where she got the dress was painted with yellow lilies. And on the bedside table, a picture with a cracked frame, showing a grinning girl standing between a man and a woman against a backdrop of dingy walls.


Even in this hell of a Downtown, the girl in the picture found a reason to smile, compared to the girl who lived in paradise, and found all the reasons to do everything but smile.


An irrational anger welled within Selene. With impudence, she kicked the door down, startling the sleeping Taka awake. He didn't look worse for wear, with his brown hoodie, gloved hands and black denims. "Come on. Everyone's already waiting at the Cradle," Selene said, walking for the exit without even sparing a glance at him.


Taka, however, was still trying to overcome a cocktail mix of grogginess and surprise at Selene's state of dress. "I never thought you'd wear a dress, of all people," he almost said. That would've been bad. Selene's mood was as tempestuous as the ocean, and one wrong word could set off a storm. He didn't feel like dealing with that first thing in the morning.


'You look good, don't get me wrong.'





Now that, he would never say out loud, even on fear of death.


============================================


Silver hair fluttered in the morning wind, catching the dim light of the synthetic lights in its glittering threads. Irina sat at the edge of the abandoned apartment's rooftop, watching Selene and Taka walk out of the front door. Usually Moonies would exercise caution when heading out into Downtown. Selene's policy was to stick to the shadows, and let their reputation do all the talking. That she was out in the open meant that something big enough happened that caused the Pale-Eyed Princess to act. It wasn't the warehouse explosion for sure, but something else. Something that damaged their reputation.


Irina never liked impulsiveness. In this case, she had no choice. The moment the Moonies convened at the Cradle, they'd start planning whatever it was to salvage their reputation... and to eliminate the one undermining it.


"This might be something big..." she muttered, pulling out a nondescript black deck from her pants pocket. She opened it, setting up all the necessary encryption, before tapping at the one number she should never be caught dead dialing.


"Callsign Mercury reporting. I have something that might interest you, Jackal."

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

- Paska's Apartment, District #2 -

​

"Tadaima... No place like home..." Paska groaned as she entered her apartment. It wasn't easy getting a cab in Quadrant 5 but she managed anyway. The driver was even smart enough to not question the slight burning smell coming from her hoodie. A short stop at the Fixer bar to drop off her gear and then it was off home. She didn't even bother to check up on anyone there. She was both too tired and pissed.


"Why were you there Wilhelm...?" She asked herself as she stripped off her scorched hoodie and inspected the damage. Not too bad, most of the damage was superficial anyway so she just tossed it aside and peeled the rest of her clothing off. She noted the cold sweat that was clinging onto her skin as she stepped into the shower and turned it full blast. She couldn't care less about the cold water. After letting the stinging cold water wash away the grime off her skin, she dried herself off and tossed on her pajamas. She threw herself onto her bed and was asleep before she could even count to 3.

- 14 Months Ago -

​

"Willow?! Willow?! Are you alright?!" Wilhelm desperately asked as he shook Paska back to her senses. She weakly looked up, her ears still ringing from the explosion. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. The charred, burning husk that was once a van was ablaze in the middle of the street. No one can survive that.


"Marka... Oliver.... N-no...." Paska muttered. The job was supposed to be simple. Guard the ammunition delivery for the Fixers from anyone stupid enough to try and intercept it. Paska and Wilhelm were given the duty of escorting van 3. The can carrying the thermal imploders and heavy-duty plasma batteries. Marka and Oliver were the drivers of the van. A couple of Fixers Paska met when she first joined the business. They were a nice pair. Marka was the cheeky, cool-headed one while Oliver was a hothead and a bit of a tryhard. She was particularly close to them as they were friendly enough to give her some tips and Marka even gave Paska her first proper firearm.


"Snap outta it Willow, we got incoming! Damned junkies!" Wilhelm cried as she opened fire at an unseen target with his plasma shotgun. Paska weakly reached for her pistol and raised it. The M191000 Marka gave. Paska could barely pull the trigger before she broke down in tears. Screaming her throat hoarse in fear and despair.

- Paska's Apartment -

​

"MARKA!!" Paska shrieked as she bolted up in her bed. She reached up to brush her fringe aside, feeling the cold sweat at her finger tips. A glance outside the window showed that it was still nighttime. A few random cars were still driving around, throwing light into Paska's window from their headlamps.


"I haven't had that nightmare in a long time.... Was it.... his fault...? ....Or is it mine...? Milly...." Paska muttered as she curled up in her bed, her mind drifting off again.

- 1 Year Ago -

​

"Paska! D-don't go! Please!!" Milly cried out, Wilhelm was firmly but gently holding her back as Paska walked away. She blinked back the tears in her eyes and forced herself to not turn back. What was she to do? She'll only put Milly in danger if she stays. One Fixer as a family member is bad enough but two would attract danger. Was this.... the right thing to do?





"Hey Pas! ...... If you change your mind.... You could come back, y'know? Just saying..." Wilhelm said. Paska stopped for a moment to give him a nod. Being careful not to look either him or Milly in the eye as she hailed down a cab.


"Paska! M-mom! Don't leave me!" Milly cried. Paska froze before she got in the cab. She ignored the cab driver's groans as she held the door open.





"I'm sorry...." Paska muttered before climbing into the cab and it drove off. Away from the streets of District #3. Away from her other home during the weekends. Waking up to make pancakes or the equivalent to it in the mornings with Milly. To joke about their latest job and laugh about the funny things. Paska. Ran away.