Futuristic HOLO | GRAPHIC | DREAMS

[Wood]

There was almost a sexual quality to Hannah's "clinic." The lights were dim and blue as to not hurt her eyes, made brittle by sedative abuse. Patients, depending on the operation, were reclined either onto a table or a velvet couch covered in a transparent tarp. Jazz music was piped into the room constantly, half to keep Hannah awake and half to cover up the less pleasant sounds the human body can make under the extreme pressure of being cut open and filled with metal. It was about the size of a small apartment, with the parlor used as the surgery and the bedroom used as a holding bay in case patients can absolutely not be moved by their gangs right away. She preferred them to be in and out in an evening regardless of the surgery, however, as she was renting the District 1 basement space. The Landlord had his fingers in the pot, but preferred not to have gangsters coming and going, as when one of their own are injured, gangsters seem to come and stay.


When Hannah wasn't working, she was reclined on the same couch, in a haze between sleep and nodding off, her eyes half closed. A simple doorbell system was in place. Ring once for boo-boo repair, twice for mortal danger, and three times for cyber ware. Clients came to her for a variety of reasons, often because they had active warrants and would be arrested if they went to a clinic, sometimes because Hannah had done work on them before, and more frequently than any of them would admit, because Hannah might "prescribe" street drugs in lieu of ridiculously expensive Corporate drugs. There were only a few rules. Credits up front, no rapists, no children. Her clinic was something of a no-mans-land, gangsters of opposing factions often arriving with members wounded in gunfights against eachother. This gave Hannah some influence in Neon City's underground, as she was seen as an impartial service. In other words, nobody fucked with the girl who might be pulling bullets out of their heart. Some even sought to stay on her good side by doing small jobs in her stead.





Hannah herself was relativley young, her 30th birthday in nine months. She could be easily mistaken for a teenage, however, her small stature and partially Asian descent contributing to the fact that she hadn't really changed much in appearance since she was 18. Black and brown lilac scented hair was strewn around her as she lounged, thoroughly in another world when her doorbell rang twice. She danced on piano keys to the door, and what she peeped through the peephole was one of the most common sights in a Neon City clinic. A concerned looking fellow holding up his bleeding friend, a piece of rebar protruding from between his fingers. She opened the door.


"Thirty credits." She led the men to the bench, hoisting the free side of the victim over her shoulder and laying him onto the table, holding the bar steady with her free hand. It wasn't ideal to move him about, but any possible damage had been done on the trip over. Hannah gave the man her warmest smile and injected a beginner's dose of Foolkiller into his arm.


"This is so fucked, man, is he going to live?"


"Probably. How'd it happen?" Hannah inspected the rebar, flicked it with her finger and was pleased to see that it was firmly planted, meaning it hadn't shredded much of the soft inner tissue.


"Man, we had just picked up in Downtown and we were headed back, and a fucking warehouse exploded and launched this like, three blocks, right into Sketti, man."


She paused for a moment. "A warehouse exploded? Was anyone around?"


"I don't know, man, we tore outta there and came right here. Man, is he going to be okay?"





Hannah inspected the wound. A foot of rebar was planted in Sketti's leg, which was as good a place as there was. "It'll depend on whether or not any major arteries are broken. If they are, we'll have to cauterize."


The man was visibly frightened by the word. "That isn't what I think it is... Is it?"


"Probably. We've been doing it since we've lived in caves. Just sear the bad stuff shut."





The wounded man was clearly new to Foolkiller. He was singing along to the clarinet track, even as Hannah attached a set of pliers to the bar. She used her foot as leverage on the table and yanked straight upwards, a "squlesh" sound coming from the bar as it was pulled from Sketti. It came out easier than any of them anticipated, and wasn't even followed by too much blood. Hannah mopped up what there was and peered into the hole, Sketti humming along to a saxophone medley.





"Looks like your man got lucky. I'll stitch him up and he'll be fine in a few weeks." Hannah patted Sketti on his face and leaned in close. "You're okay, change the bandages every day and stay off that leg as much as you can."





Twenty minutes later, the men were gone, and Hannah was back on her couch with thirty shiny new credits in her pocket. She slid a pill under her tongue and drifted off to something akin to sleep.

 

[Elephantom]

MARCUS


It was a new day, a bright new day, for some more new endeavours, not that he was looking forward to it, no. He was rather interested in some quick cash, cause that was exactly what he needed, he later saw the owner back in the streets, but Marcus was careful enough to hide. He could see that the owner has bloodshot, and he was pretty sure that this guy had murder in his minds. The later events during the previous day was painstakingly awful, especially the explosion. His back was literally charcoal, and he didn't want to reminisce about that. He lazily stood up from the couch, before stretching his arms and back, specifically his back, as he went for his table, to be precise, his desk table. Before sitting in his usual chair which in turn, was on his usual area, which was just in front of the door. He opened one of the drawers, which contained a can of pre-cooked insta-sardines, it tasted like shit but it had enough minerals, proteins and caffeine to rejuvenate a drowsy man, and by rejuvenate, I mean shocking rejuvenation, you really don't need anything if you are this sucker.


He opened the can with a good uppercut, before looking at its contents, yep, it was full of dried defiled fish, powdery dried defiled fish to be precise. He poured some hot water on it, to which, it suddenly turned into what you might expect from a can of Frank n' beans. Right, it looked nothing like a can of sardines, it even had small kidney beans in it. The guy who made this thing must've gotten the wrong concept of what a can of sardines was supposed to look like.


He ate it, with extreme difficulties, he finished it, it tasted like a hundred year old lime, it was bitter at its best, he finished the food with one big gulp, which left a greasy bitter trail in its wake. If used properly, this thing can be implemented as a torture tool.


He stood up from his chair, his face still contorted into a frowned and stressed expression as he exited his room, before going back in to retrieve the cassette. Of course, he had a place to go to, and it was the molzbirch cafe, which was situated in the southern most area in sector #1 of District #1, and not the library, of course. He just needed to discuss this matter with someone.


He exited his room before going downstairs. And in a few minutes, he had hailed a cab. The can itself was in good condition than the other cabs around the locality, maybe he was one of those noobs, and maybe he could use this fact to his advantage.


"Hey, driver. Take me to the Molzbirch Cafe, in sector #1, District #1 and in the Waxteeing Jollow avenue. Be sure to make it quick, eh?" He said as the taxi driver drove on along the busy roads of neon city. After a few close shaves with taxi drivers, and after a wild chase from a rival taxi. They finally reached the aforementioned place.


"Take the fare." He said as he passed a bill to the driver, before scooting away to the cafe. It was until the driver was in district #2 when be realized that the bill wasn't a credit, it was instead a paper with a single sentence in it, 'you got duped', and that was the concise and solid fact.


By now, Marcus was already in a chair, happily whistling away a random tune. That was until, Jack arrived, clad in armour. He sat down on the chair beside him, in a subtle manner of course, he didn't like to draw any unnecessary aggro.


JACKAL


"So you're supposed to owe me a favo- wait, my phone's ringing." He opened his phone as heard what the person in the other end said. To jackal, it was neither shocking nor was it foolish. Many questions came up in jackal's head. Why was Irena calling him? What did she have to say exactly?


A good way to start a day.


A real good way


GRENDEL


Shots burst out of Grendel's rifle which drilled into the goon's head, effectively killing him and putting him out his measly experience. He was hired by Jim Paulson, a local arms dealer who dealt guns in the downtown district and was also a secret informant to Marcus and some bunch of other people. Well, he was paying well, and the contract was to eliminate his enemies. He was receiving a big fat 10,000 credits, he was behaving real paranoid around these days. Especially since the news about the moonies being some toilet loonies spread. Well, everyone believes it and so does Nick. Well, who wouldn't? Since it's the real fact, they were looking for some male Virgin so that they could emasculate him and sacrifice him to the toilet Lord. That almost happened to Johnny, but he was rescued by Thrill and Marcus. They even appeared in the newspaper this very day. Even the news about the toilet gang's heinous deeds spread out to everyone. Apparently, there was also some rumours that they were paedophiles, but that was yet to be proven.


Well, he for didn't want to get killed by some gallons of toilet water, and so, he mentally ordered himself to kill anyone who's shady enough to look like a Moonie.

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Eva -- Early Morning.


Well this wasn't something I expected, Eva thought to herself as she adjusted the helmet she wore to give a wider view of the situation. A screen appeared in from of her eyes which revealed her own face, she was in her boring day job. Today was especially boring as she hadn't been involved in such an thing. "This attack is one of many recent attacks against gangs within the downtown sector," She said in a crisp British accent.


She moved closer to the destroyed wreckage of the warehouse continuing to speak, "This warehouse is rumored to have been the base of the Moonies, the local gang of Toilet Worshipers," Roku's face twisted into a playful smile as she attempted to contain her laughter at such a statement.


She continued to edge closer and then panned her head to give a view of the devastation. "The Moonies formally called the half moon gang, were heavily entrenched in this area of downtown. Some people speculate the Moonies may be over with this attack however, we have doubts that they will settle for their name being twisted in such a way." Roku began to head backward as she then turned going back once more, "This reporter has seen zero evidence of any deaths within the destruction. This could simply be the start of renewed violence within downtown." Roku finally stopped and turned looking back at the wreckage once more. "This is Roku your darling and daring reporter on the ground signing off."


Roku shut off the helmet and set the quick recording to the major news network she worked for. She knew she'd probably need to record it once more later on as she wasn't her usual excited self. She shook her head and slipped into her Bloodmoon and tossed the helmet upon the seat beside her.


Roku drove out heading to the third district to report in to her Superiors, not that she truly cared much about this part of her life at all.


Lana and Minako --


Lana rolled her eyes as she drank her fourth cup of coffee and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why does this guy seem so familiar?" She said looking at the job she had been offered by Fate.


Fate sat beside her, she puffed out a blast of smoke shaking her head. "Maybe you encountered this person once perhaps last night?"


Lana drank down the droplets of coffee and the bartender poured her another simply listening as he always did. "I doubt it, I barely recall some gang members, a guy tied up, a wrestler, and a detective. It was a weird end last night." She said groaning while pinching her nose again.


Fate laughed somewhat and took a drag from the cigarette, "Well there hasn't been an official price that you could collect on any of those people, I suggest killing this Marvin Chin and collecting some money. You need something nice and simple."


Lana could only nod her head and looked over the file. Marvin Chin, Asian Male, Alias Two Chinned Fin, runs a brothel within the downtown sector. Price was only five thousand credits but, it was put up by a rival of his. She sighed and nodded her head, "He'll be dead before dusk," She stood and flexed her cybernetic arm with a sigh.


Fate looked at Lana and smiled, "I took the liberty to change your theft system, it'll focus only on your bio signs," Lana nodded appreciatively and went to collect her gear.


After grabbing her gear and hefting a large bag of weaponry over her shoulder she left to mount to her motorcycle and head towards downtown again, to hunt down Two Chinned Fin.

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

At the Cat's Cradle, Downtown, Second Quadrant…


The place wasn't a cradle nor was it named as such, though it was full of cats. Cat's Cradle was simply a cover name for an out-of-way cafe that somehow thrived in the middle of the gang wars, the street brawls, and the occasional mad drunk. Technically, it was considered neutral ground by most of the gangs, somewhere they could go whenever they need to talk without pulling triggers. But in truth Selene's gang held controlling stock over the cafe, so to speak.


It was little more than a hole in the wall, formerly some poor sap's garage space. Chairs and tables from the nearby junkyards gave a hodge podge image. Strange paintings and artsy graffiti covered the walls in an attempt to give the Cradle a more sophisticated feel, which was slightly ruined by the crackly country music playing on the radio. The counter was just a huge closet turned on its side, painted completely in black. Behind it was a simple kitchen with a working sink, a coffee brewer, an electric stove, and a bag filled with packets of instant coffee mixed with a handful of Arabica beans.


The latter was usually reserved for people who had enough credits to pay for a brand new hover. Coffee beans were considered an upper district commodity, rare enough in this day and age. It said something that two cups of the stuff was sitting on Selene's table, fragrant steam wafting from the dark liquid.


"Thought I heard something strange last night. Thay was your doing, wasn't it?" the scarred man only known as Grump said. From his bulk and solid jawline, you wouldn't think he was the cafe's owner and barista.


"Yeah. Got pissed off by this old man. Marcus. You know him, right?" Selene said before taking a sip of the brew. A little too bitter, just how she liked it. She could do with green tea instead, but that was even rarer than the beans.


"Marcus? Weird guy with a red eye? Oh, I know him alright. Heard enough grumbling about him from my patrons. Heard some other things, too. Something about toilet worshippers sacrificing old Johnny to their toilet god," Grump chuckled.


"I don't know how that shitty story got around so quickly, but I sure as hell won't leave it alone any longer."


"So what are we going to do about it?" Taka asked. He sat across Selene, nursing his own cup of coffee.


"What I really want is to leave behind a bloody trail of bodies long enough to get the U-Guys' attention, with Marcus' corpse at the head of it. But that won't do anything but reinforce the people's current opinion of us. Rumors have a way of twisting perception, which pisses me off more," Selene said, pausing to take another sip. "What we need to do is something a little more complicated."


"Which is...?" Taka said.


"Patience. Let's wait for the rest to come. Hey, Grump! Get ready with that instant coffee of yours. I'm expecting company."


"Sure thing, princess," Grump winked, before going to work on boiling water in the pot.


Right on cue, the silver-haired Irina came through the steel-mesh door, jingling the bells hanging from it. She looked untouched by the explosion, which was expected. Her black hoodie was impeccable, her gaze steely cold as always. She made her way to Selene's table and helped herself to a seat.


"The usual, Grump," she said without any inflection.


"Right," the barista replied. He kept his gaze on her for a second longer, before fishing out some beans from his sack for Irina's cup.


"So, find anything interesting for me?" Selene asked.


"We're on the news. Or rather, our former HQ is. There were something about toilets and pedophiles, but you probably already know."


"Dammit. Freaking old geezer. I'll take my sweet time tearing out his tongue if I get the chance. Then I'll carefully burn on his cheeks all the bullshit he's been telling, so that every time he looks in the mirror he'll--"


"Selene, calm down. We still need a plan. No going off on your own until then," Taka reminded her.


"Right. Thanks for that," Selene sipped generously from her cup, ignoring that sclading heat that burned her tongue. Today was looking to be a fine day for plotting nefarious plots. Selene was happy with her coffee and the plans spinning in her mind. So happy that she almost missed the contemplative gaze Irina was throwing her way.


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





Thirty minutes ago, atop an abandoned apartment on Quadrant Three...





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


She waited until she heard the go-ahead before continuing. "I have enough reason to believe that the gang will soon move against Marcus. I don't have anything else beyond that. I'll update you once I get more info. Over and out."


She cut the call and shoved the deck back to her pocket. Quick, concise, straight to the point. It didn’t matter that she didn’t give her superior a chance to speak, as long as she told him what he needed to do. She didn’t want to trouble him more than she had to.


That was the least she could do to the man who saved her life.

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

- Paska's Workstation -

​

"Baka bakka...." Paska cursed under her breath as she angrily bit into her morning bagel. Things were NOT going her way the entire morning. Sure she managed to reach work on time, on the downside that she didn't have time to apply her makeup properly. She looked more like a kabuki actress than a secretary. Next, her blasted heels broke as she was about to leave for work. This meant she had to bear with her other pair of heels which were even more uncomfortable. Lastly, just as she was able to get into the groove of her work while ignoring the snide comments by the harpies of the office when she received a request from the HR manager to fix his Deck. It seems to have picked up a virus and won't function properly.


"Now then.... Let's find the source and.... yup.... Its from a porn site.... Of course... Knowing him.... His horny kid must have swiped it earlier....." Paska groaned. She had more then half the mind to smash the deck to pieces. Preferably on someone's head before ramming the remains up their posterior but that would lead to her getting fired. And she'd rather not get fired over something that monumentally stupid. She reached for her workstation's phone and contacted the manager before spending the precious 10 minutes it takes for him to get to her station to tear some old file holders to calm down. A couple of passing interns quickly fled for their lives at the loud snap coming from her desk. Having heard stories about the "Berserk Coffee Lady", they would rather not know how Paska go that title.


"Here you go Sir. I cleaned up your Deck. It should function well," Paska said with a smile as she politely held the Deck out. After a bit of praise and the manager left, Paska sighed and propped up her coffee break sign. Her first stop would be the washroom to clean up her face. After vigorously washing the makeup off, she decided to go native for the rest of the day. Her next stop would be to check on the coffee pots then its back to work. As she was refilling an empty coffee pot, Anju, one of the female interns, entered the break room.


"Ah! Kirishima-senpai! Did you hear?" Anju asked excitedly as she practically zipped up to Paska.


"H-heard what...?" Paska asked, feeling slightly bemused at the intern's excitement. Nothing much happened in the office anyway so this 'news' might be something minor like a demotion or some other thing.


"There was a huuuuuuuuge explosion over at Quadrant 5! Its all over the news! I heard it was due to those toilet-worshipping Half-Lidded Moon gang cultists!" Anju said excitedly as Paska decided to pour Anju's cup of coffee without sugar. Poor girl doesn't need an additional perk.


"Ah.... I see.... Well.... I think I did hear something about it on the news....." Paska lied, she knows about it for one easy reason. She was there.

 

[Wood]

Gordon's


Apartment


He hadn't slept, showered or otherwise done anything other than sit on his couch, tuned to the News Station. Gordon's underwear was bunched up around his waist and inside of the couch, a thin layer of sweat sticking his body to the leather. It was morning now, and he had been watching the news feeds ever since he got back from Johnny's impromptu testicle repair. His cat wandered past, rubbing against his moist leg. Ralph stuck to Gordon for a moment, his longer furs trapped in the stickiness but he pulled himself free and took refuge under a cardboard box. It wasn't until he had been watching for nine hours that Roku appeared on the screen, the rubble of the warehouse in the background.


Pushing himself forward with an audible "squelch," he scanned the ruins for and listened to Roku in hopes that she might mention a certain masked wunder-man. The burst tank precisely covered by her head, Gordon flailed with his arms and shouted "Move over!" to the reporter, who, of course, did not mention him. He paused the shot as the reporter left the frame. There was Johnny's overturned wheelchair, Investigators milling about.


What Roku did mention, however, was that the warehouse was populated by Moonies. "Which is why that idiot Detective was there." Gordon mumbled out loud, frustrated by the results of the previous evening. He had technically accomplished his goal of Johnny-protection, more or less, but there was no theatrics, no fire katana weilding. He had entered the belly of the beast, and didn't do anything with it. He grunted in disappointment, now preparing for his morning shower. He needed a reliable source for jobs, moreso than Channel 2 news and his dealer. He'd need connections. He had to join a gang. Bronson set out onto the streets, in search of sufficiently shifty looking individuals.


Hannah's


Clinic





The thing about late-stage opiate addiction is that one must be very attentive to their supply. Hannah awoke late that morning, no clients arriving to wake her and no alarm set. The first thing that she noticed was a very immediate urge to vomit, which wasn't an entirely new feeling. She shuffled to the bathroom in her nightgown and deposited the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl, her bones aching as she sat on her knees. Hannah wasn't yet worried, however, as she had purchased a supply a few weeks back. It wouldn't be her first time suffering from withdrawal- It was enjoyable, almost, the cravings making the first pill that much more enjoyable.


She returned to the couch, dipped her hand into the bag that served as a stash bag and found it completely empty. She tipped the thing over, shaking it and all that emerged was a receipt from a taco restaurant. She slumped against the couch and put her face in her hands. Hannah was what is traditionally referred to as a heavy user, meaning that her brain chemistry relied on the chemicals within her Beauties. There are many ways to die in Hannah's situation, from a seizure to dehydration to the most likely, suicide. Hannah laid on the ground and calculated. "It's been 12 hours since my last hit, which means withdrawal starts now. I have something like 12 hours until this gets really bad, which means that I have 12 hours before I run the risk of dying of something."





Hannah slipped into a casual outfit, doing her best to avoid noticing the feelings in her bones. She slipped a thick pair of sunglasses over her eyes and set out onto the streets, in search of sufficiently shifty looking individuals.

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Lana let out a small sigh as she pulled out her Ax-7 Rifle, she began to twist a small silencer onto the end of the guns barrel. She then switched it to its single shot option and finally went prone upon the floor of the abandoned and partially destroyed Apartment building. The walls were crumbling slightly destroyed in a battle long ago. Once a window and wall existed there but, now gave a large enough hole to be able to accomplish Lana's mission quietly.


She was within the downtown sector, within what was considered the Moonies territory. Lana realized this but, quietly shook her head as she lay upon the floor. I doubt they will be involved She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, now holding it between her metallic fingers, she blew out a rush of smoke and waited for the right opportunity.


A couple of hours passed as she waited, her cigarette count dwindling. Lana herself wasn't sure now if this was best the option. Waiting to snipe the target quickly and quietly, would be simpler to just barge in guns blazing. Just as she was about to remove her silencer and prepare to do just that. Another person leapt across the rooftops and landed where Lana's target was residing.


Mercy leapt over the rooftops skillfully and skidded upon the brothels rooftop with a grin. Her mask was upon her face and she twirled her surgical blades for a brief second before colliding with the rooftops door to head down into the depths of the brothel.


The low moaning that seemed to reverberate through the complex sent a small shiver down Mercy's spine. She peeked into one of the rooms calmly observing two people in the heat of ecstasy. Mercy smiled beneath her mask as she quickly entered the room and brought her heated blade downward impaling both in an instant.


The crimson color of blood grew her smile as she proceeded to slash into the bodies splashing the walls red painting them. She stepped out of the wall covered in the nurturing life force that all humanity held within them. It felt so comforting to her, "They must all be released... To feel the fibers of life..." She said quietly before twisting around and proceeding to do that.


The screaming that erupted from the occupants didn't bother her, the fact they resisted and begged didn't matter either. All that did matter was release, an almost orgasmic release for Mercy as she coated the walls, her body, the people, with crimson joy. As she tore into them Mercy licked her lips while standing over the body of a large male now free to feel his final moments.


However she wasn't expecting the punch that collided with her masked face. She twisted her body awkwardly and stood up staring into the eyes of another female, her face showing a mixture of emotions. "You stole my job," The woman said before leaping forward to engage in battle.


Both Mercy and Lana fought with an ferocity that neither had felt in battle before. Mercy herself hadn't fought many others in combat and though that being the case gave Lana trouble still. Mercy gleefully smiled as she made the first real cut upon Lana's arm spilling a light splash of blood upon the floor. "Soon you will feel the joy of care." Mercy said in a sadistic tone of voice.


Lana took this opportunity to immediately smash her metal fist into Mercy's face, this time shattering a portion of the mask away. The impact was even strong enough to cause Mercy's nose to break and bleed slightly as well. The two looked at one another gauging their next movements. Mercy threw her helmet upon the ground and smiled gleefully as she touched her nose. "Your one blood obsessed psychopath," Lana said as she drew a blade and pointed it towards Mercy's face, "Another time I'd probably work with you, sadly I won't let you take my job."


Lana leapt forward to slash into Mercy with her Vibroknife only to stopped dead in her tracks as Mercy punched her face in return. She skidded backward as Mercy said in a quiet tone one that almost seemed sad, "I released them from sadness to feel the comfort of the strands of life," she said lowering both her blades and shaking slightly, "I apologize for stealing your job, I only wanted to help in my own way."


Lana wasn't sure if this was a trick or perhaps some weird twisted logic Mercy had developed, "My name is Lana, perhaps you just need someone to guide you?" She said in a quiet tone. Mercy looked at Lana a small, almost real smile, appeared upon her face as she nodded. Lana did something her brain and instinct would normally never consider and offered a hand to Mercy, "Come let's get out of here," Lana said as Mercy gripped her hand gently.


The two females both covered in sweat and blood walked out the door of the brothel, hand in hand. Lana would lead Mercy to her motorcycle to take her to Fate, knowing that the motherly instincts of hers would easily accept the sadistic and young doctor whom Lana was bringing back with herself.


Elsewhere in the city, Roku stepped out of the news building with a sigh. She had finished a redo on the recording she had made earlier and had to reject a promotion once again. Her boss had been hounding her to be an permanent fixture on the news as one of the anchors. However, that wouldn't work with her plans and money schemes. She enjoyed the back and forth of boring day reporting and causing explosive fun at night.


Roku shook her head slightly as she entered her Bloodmoon and sat within the drivers seat. She placed her finger upon the pad to start up the car and drove out of the news buildings parking lot. Roku began to head to her home in the first district within the first sector. It lay near the downtown entrance which made getting into the downtown areas far easier.


As she drove she heard her own voice over the radio giving a broadcast. Roku shook her head and lightly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel clearly bored of the current situation. She stopped suddenly near a small cafe in the first district and got out of her car. She quietly ordered some Soykaf, a cheap substitute for coffee before relaxing in a seat by herself. She quietly wished to herself that something, anything would happen to keep her from dying from boredom or at least to stop her from grabbing her own guns to shower the cafe with bullet holes and dead bodies.

 

[Elephantom]

MARCUS


Marcus was walking by the lone roads of Neon city, or district #2 sector #11 to be precise. Nobody wanders that area that much, due to its close proximity to the downtown district, although you can see the occasional border patrol officer walking by down the roads, or in a lesser uniform manner, sleeping on the chair. Of course, it was all very normal in this city, most often, people don't just go in and shoot up some building or a bowl of noodles, which meant that the border patrol saw less action than most other officers, being second only to the philosophers group, a weird cult led by an even more weirder guy, the cult is filled to the brim with zealous fanatics, but this was all just rumours that they kidnap people and cut off their dicks and genitalia, like it was totally a complete rip off from the moonies. Anyways he had long since gone off from the cafe after jackal excused himself and went away to whatever stuff he had to do at that moment.


Nevertheless, continuing on the note pressing matter. As Marcus was walking by the lanes which were neatly laid with a sheet of steel, he heard a few sounds here and there, and noticed a guy with his peripheral vision, although he couldn't see the guy due to the flickering lights here and there which produced irritating glares every time it lit up. It was now really clear what was going on around this place. A guy was stalking him, that too, very furiously. Or maybe it was just a hobo trying to escape from the view of the average citizen. Whatever the reasons may be in this situation here, Marcus had a gun and there would be one less guy in this city today.


Marcus quickly laid his hands upon his holster as he looked towards the front of the ship. There was a lamp, the only one which didn't flicker so very vigorously, but which was also filled with jittery moths. Marcus slowly but steadily drew out his pistol as he carefully held it with two hands, grasping the handle tightly as small drops of sweat dropped down his forehead.


As he was about to shoot aimlessly because of sheer paranoia, he heard someone behind him move. Due to his self-preservation instincts, he looked back only to see a dark black figure which slowly revealed himself as his eyes got used to the dark. Once he fully realized what he was, he slowly gasped in terror. It was Ludwig Wittgenstein? What was he doing over here.





"Oh, it's you... What are you doing here?" Marcus said as he breathed a sigh of relief. He than relaxed his hand as the gun went back into its holster, going back to the position it was in before, waiting to be used again.


"Markas, I need your help." Ludwig spoke with his deep Austrian accent. It looked like he really needed some help, really needed some help, and by really, I mean extremely harmoniously massively he-shot-my-dick-off type of help.


GRENDEL


Grendel entered a small cafe in the first district, for he was supposed to meet a anonymous contact over there. However, Nick really wasn't in his best mood, especially after what Ludwig tried to pull off on him. Seriously, you don't aimlessly shoot around the area in hopes of hitting someone, and he did shoot someone. And that someone was him. He still had the hole in his shoulder, fortunately, he had successfully removed the bullet, although he still needed some professional patching up. He carefully examined the surroundings. The place was quite silent as there was way too less guys in the cafe. Grendel, who was obviously annoyed and had a job to do, did what everyone mercenary did in the past, does now in the present and will do in the future.


Grendel raised his shotgun up into the air as he shot a few into the ceiling to scare off any passengers stupid enough to stay near him. He then shot a mug full of soykaf which splattered into a million pieces full of now broke ceramic shards, very jagged shards. The soykaf was now all over the floor.


JACKAL


"Stall her, kill her if you can." He spoke into the receiver before quickly cutting off the call. He really wasn't expecting a calm from Irena, especially not now. Then again, he wasn't really one of those people who talked very much, he only said what he needed to, and he believed that actions express more than just some mere words. Jackal slowly sneaked away from the cafe after excusing himself in the most deliberate way, and that was that he needed to attain a military meeting, before he sprinted away to whatever hideout he had stored away in the first district.


GREMLIN


"Damn it!" He said as he tightly grasped his pistol, the duke. It was getting quite tense as he walked through the bustling streets, waiting for the next big thing other than supporting grendel on his singular endeavours. Gremlin quickly passed through the road in a brisk manner. He was trying to whistle a very rustic tune before he was really rudely interrupted by one of the robo-force squadrons. Who had massively huge rail guns. Gremlin was a smart guy, and he wasn't actually going to confront them upfront. He soon made a run for it, avoiding the numerous gunfire all the while vaulting over obstacles and climbing over fences.


He finally ended up in another part of the seedy road connections as he sprinted away from certain oblivion. Before he saw that the robo-force had a damn Robo-Samurai complete with a super large katana. And he was 7 feet tall. He barged through the simple wire fences as he slowly went after him, it was every clown's nightmare. Getting chased by a crazed samurai is one of those rare stuff people can rarely afford to see.

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

Cat's Cradle, Second Quadrant, Downtown...





In the hours that followed, Moonies filtered into the small cafe, quickly rearranging the tables and chairs in a semi-circle, the kind you'd see in a parliament hearing somewhere. Cups of coffee were served in straight order, along with some tough bread and biscuits from last month's raid at some rival gang's food stash. Right in front of the counter was an aging whiteboard Grump managed to pull out from a dilapidated school building. Scribbled all over the board in neat, businesslike handwriting were three bullet points, followed by several lines of details, plans, drawings and even a portrait sketch.


Irina and Taka were standing on either side of the board, glancing over the Moonies sitting down on chairs and tables, taking note of anyone absent. Thankfully, everyone was accounted for, though there were bandages and bruises standing out from several who weren't fast enough to escape the brunt of the explosion. Better alive than dead, anyway. Both of them didn't want Selene to have one more reason to flip her switch.


One would think that gathering the entire gang in a place like this was a foolish act. They could easily be taken out by a well-aimed RPG, or a few grenades, or even some brave fools crashing the party and waving their (little) guns around. But Selene had one gift for Grump when she first took over the cafe-- a Fujiwara Defense Grid. It was a network of sensors, alert systems, and automated turrets that would shred anyone they deemed hostile. Against a dedicated team of U-Guys or Robo-Force personnel, it wouldn't amount to much, but it did its job of keeping the peace in the Cradle, especially for general assemblies like this.


Selene tapped a rebar on the board, her expression calculating, her movements stiff. Right then, she wasn't the gang leader of Quadrant Four, but some girl from District # 1 who should be dead. "I'll get straight to the point. Private Eye Marcus is our target. He's the one responsible for all the bullshit you keep hearing about toilet worshipers," she paused, hearing the angry murmurs ripple through the crowd. "He needs to be reminded of exactly who he's trying to mess with, and if I had my way, I'd strap him to a table and get intimate with his innards. Buuuuut, Taka-kun here insisted we try a less direct approach."


Taka coughed, ignoring the looks of pity directed his way, and took stage. "I think that instead of us knocking down his door, we should let others do it for us. Because going against him directly is pretty much admitting to everything he said about us. A hit job against Marcus will do the trick. I'm sure we're not the only ones holding grudges against him."


"We can word the request so that we cut all involvement with the job," Irina chimed in. "Marcus dies or not, we had nothing to do with it. If he lives, then he'll likely come to us. We can shoot him up to our heart's content then."


"Well there you have it," Selene said. "But teaching him a lesson wouldn't be enough. We need to turn the public's opinion around or else the other gangs will start having stupid ideas. And that's where she comes in."


The Princess tapped her rebar on the portrait sketch of a familiar-looking woman with blonde-hair and an intricate mechanical helmet. "We've all seen her at one point in the net. Well-known reporter, popular with all the guys, though plagued with rumors about random shoot-ups all over Downtown. She's the perfect person to be the gang's PR specialist and consultant. So, Irina? Mind grabbing along a few Moonies and talking to Miss Roku for us?"


Irina didn't hesitate. "Of course, Selene. I'll get on it as soon as the assembly concludes."


"Good girl," Selene smiled appreciatively, before tapping the final point on the board with her rebar. "Lastly -- and this is my favorite part -- the third part of salvaging our reputation involves a little something I'd like to call 'all-out war.'"


Unsurprisingly, a round of cheers and shouts went through the gathered Moonies. Selene could feel the wild urges struggling beneath their normally placid facades. For too long she had forced them to remain in the shadows, to conduct their business behind walls and closed doors. No longer. The drawing on the board detailed the hideouts and hangouts of each major gang in Downtown, with several notes on gang members, points of entry, and priority targets. It was time for them to make good use of the information they'd gained over the months.


"Well discuss this more in detail once we've got the first two items underway, but Taka and I will be in charge in leading the war effort. More of Taka than me, since I'll be out doing my own thing," Selene grinned. "Passiveness and aggressiveness both have their merits. I think it's high time we started showing everyone just who they're badmouthing. Once we start, we'll have more than just the gangs to deal with; U-Guys, Robo-Force, other pricks. I'm sure that once we've got the ball rolling, it'll be hard to stop. And people will never again breath one word about toilet worshipers."


A three-pronged plan. It took Selene, Taka and Irina the better half of an hour to come up with everything. If all went well, then the Half-Lidded Moon Gang would be well on their way to take over Downtown. The Princess had loftier goals in mind, but she had to go about it one thing at a time. Building something was ten times harder than breaking it down. She had to be careful; if one facet of her plan failed, everything would break apart.

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

- Wilhelm's Apartment -

​

"....ad.... Dad...... DAD!!" Wilhelm heard before his head was promptly assaulted with a pillow. Wilhelm suppressed a chuckle as he pretended to panic before laying still as an frowning Milly stood by the bed.


"Come on Dad.... I need to get to school! And you!" She whacked him with the pillow again. "Need!" Whack. "To!" Whack. "Get! To! Work!" 3 whacks. One to the head, one to the solar plexus and the one aimed at the groin was countered by Wilhelm's knee.


"Alright! Alright, Ma'am! I'm getting up!" Wilhelm surrendered with a chuckle as he sat up, smiling at his pouting daughter. Milly's neck length hair has been done up in a neat pony tail and she wore the uniform for the local volunteer paramedical group with an armband depicting a steering wheel, designating her as an ambulance driver. Wilhelm couldn't help but notice the strong resemblance she had with her late Mother.


"Gee Dad, stop spacing off like that. You're thinking about Mom again," Milly said with a small smile. Wilhelm chuckled as he slid out of bed.


"Yup. You're as sharp as her too. Have a safe day at work, Mills." Wilhelm bode with a peck on Milly's forehead.


"Hehe~ You too, Dad!" Milly bode before she rushed off. Wilhelm chuckled at the sound of the front door slamming followed by the neighbor's dog's panicked barking. "Now then.... Where did I leave that knife...?"

- Fixer Bar, Downtown -



​

Atlas Pub and Grill looks like your standard rundown bar in Downtown. Broken signage, bullet-marks on the reinforced door and a slot for the guy on the other side to ask you for the passcode. Oh and the "true" entrance is around back.


"Hey, its me. Password's Homage." Wilhelm said as he knocked on the door. The lock clicked open and he slipped in the barely opened door. The guy manning the door was a nervous looking kid around Milly's age, armed with what else but a shotgun. Judging by how tightly the kid was grasping his shotgun, it would probably be stuck to his hands if he died. Wilhelm chuckled at this sight as he descended down the stairs to the true bar. The main HQ of a group of Fixers he signed up with. There are multiple bars like this throughout Neon City and all of them are connected via a direct wired line in case of emergencies or large scale operations like rebellions or planned rioting but mostly emergencies. No one can pay every single Fixer the money needed to run a rebellion anyway.


And everyone knows what is the only thing a Fixer is truly loyal to. And that thing is Credits.

 

[Freyu Valentine]

Roku was surprised, not only had her wish been granted to have something happen, she didn't quite expect it to be her cup of Soykaf exploding within her hand. The cheap coffee substitute splashed upon her as the Cafe goers proceeded to flee from the place. Roku however, showed an almost unrivaled level of calm as she started to shake her arms up and down, flicking bits of Soykaf away from herself. Her shirt now both damp and see through, the ill effects of wearing white today, she stood and shook her head.


She calmly walked up the the mercenary clearly uninterested in his badass stance but, smiled sweetly. "You owe me a coffee Mr. Mercenary," she said innocently before strolling out of the cafe. She entered her Bloodmoon and sat in the drivers seat, winking before she shut the door.


Roku however was fairly displeased by having her Soykaf exploded upon herself. As she sat comfortably in her Bloodmoon, she began to press a couple of buttons on a keypad. A screen suddenly appeared upon the steering wheel as a large turret erupted from the rear end of the vehicle.


The turret turned to face the cafe before firing a consistent wave of laser bullets into the place their intent to shred the mercenary to pieces for the offense to her Coffee. Roku smiled as the bullets began to pelt into the Cafe confident the mercenary would not survive.


Elsewhere Lana sat with Fate, Mercy and another woman whom she had met in the past ten minutes. This woman was codenamed Wolf and was simply more machine then human. Wolf coldly watched the proceeding meeting that was set up by Fate. "Now Lana, I know you may not be ready for commanding a team for me again however, we've gotten some rather interesting jobs that need stronger hands and more hands to deal with." Fate began to explain.


She paced in front of a screen projected upon the wall of Fate's meeting room. She used her cigarette clad stick as a pointer while smiling calmly. "The jobs are detailed in the files I've given each of you, however one of our potential recruits for your team is also currently Mia, though she may simply have not responded to the message nor seen it yet." A picture of Roku with the codename Eva appeared upon the screen as well.


The screen shifted and revealed a profile for Marcus, "This is one of the jobs mentioned that we've got lined up, I would also assume you wish to repay him for the damages upon yourself," though Marcus hadn't technically caused the removal of her arm, it was the lack of quicker healing onto it that had convinced Lana to replace it with metal.


Fate paced to the side as she pointed to the screen, "He's currently worth one hundred thousand credits, apparently this guy had far more enemies than was assumed originally." Fate pointed her cigarette clad stick back at the screen just as it shifted to reveal a picture of the Robo-Oppressor. "A person whom needs little introduction I'm sure, though we truly have fairly little on him, his price is constantly growing for his elimination from the downtown quadrants," Fate said as she finally settled back upon the chair.


Fate nodded her head a bit, "These are our two biggest jobs that have come in thus far, however we do have an assortment of smaller jobs plus I'll be handling Intel and job collecting as per usual." Fate spoke and then took a drag from her cigarette.


Lana was the first to speak, "This sounds rather intriguing, so for now it's simply locate and kill Private Investigator Marcus and the Robo Oppressor," Lana said with the smallest of smiles.


However Mercy spoke up as well, "We may need to figure out something about Eva as well," She said while poking the table with a scalpel. Mercy had eagerly joined the team which had formed it far faster as Fate had been struggling to locate a properly crazy enough medic for the squad.


Wolf spoke with a cold voice almost devoid of emotion, "We should also consider wiping out those Toilet Worshippers, they are a menace if a minor one for now," Lana nodded her head and crossed her arms thinking about what to do.


Lana looked at Fate and smiled, "Give us something simple to test out our capabilities together, then gather information on Marcus, hopefully by then we will hear from Eva," The team seemed to be in agreement with this and so Fate cracked her fingers and prepared to locate a simple job for the three to complete as they prepared to head out and figure out some sort of team slogan. After all every team had one right?

 

[Elephantom]

MARCUS


Marcus was quiteshocked, in a moderate scale, to say anything, anything important to be precise. Not because of the high impact of his problem, or the fact that Ludwig was followin him for a straight thirty minutes. But the fact that his day was supposed to be without any problem, of course, he wanted his day to go easy, not that his personal wishes were ever fulfilled, no, it was always the other way round. He looked at Ludwig with an expression like he'd eaten a pre-boiled piece of chicken with traces of hair and cow udder left in it, which is of course, completely horrifying. Marcus went into some kind of shock induced trance as Ludwig attentively stared at him, waiting for him to reply or something, before he finally realized that Marcus wasn't going to talk, anytime soon, and also that Marcus was three inches smaller than him, ya know, he discovered both facts at the same time.


"I have a problem, a big one. You know, the philosopher's cult. Well, I defected them to some overworked hobos, and now, they want to destroy me. And I for one, don't actually want to get dissolved away, so I need your help." Ludwig slowly explained as if Marcus was a two year old, which he wasn't, obviously.


"I got problems of my own, and I've known you long enough to get that you're a bad liar. Tell me the whole truth." Marcus suspiciously asked the now nervous Ludwig. Of course, a famous guy just doesn't rat of all the information to a nobody, who in this case, is a relativity unknown and unnoticed hobo.





But then again, he was one of those guys who couldn't handle drinking pretty well.





"Ok, the truth is... I gave off all the information to some DEADLOCK executive when I realized that the philosopher's cult were creating identical clones of me, most of whom still roam this city. I don't know what they want or what they're exactly thinking, but nevertheless, DEADLOCK turned out to be in league with them, and ordered a hit on me, with the assistance of gremlin. I later discovered the DEADLOCK was planning a whole wide strike on all people considered a major nuisance, which includes you. They're hiring all the top dogs to do it for them. And one of the major problems they're having are the ex-fujiwara industries owner, who's rumoured to be selene. And well, with the help of some U-Guy, they now know who's who. While the notorious Robo-Oppressor decided to let this conflict slide while he does some dealings with Japan. Which officially caused the conflict in the first place, as the you-know-who decided to scapegoat the now defunct fujiwara industries, or more unofficially, the moon gang. Japan, seemingly intelligent enough to not dive headfirst into conflict, asked a favour from one of the other megacorporations, DEADLOCK. You can see that robo-oppressor caused a spike in crime in the more eastern Asian countries, more directly at Japan and China, as he had hands in a massive shipment of illegal guns. This caused Japan to take immediate albeit subtle action after the now trigger-happy Australia grew a bit more nervous, and ready to strike at any times soon." Ludwig finished his lengthy explanation which left him breathless, and quite fruitless too, as Marcus wasn't even a bit focused or attentive towards his details, as he couldn't exactly recall what he said.


"You can bunk in with me, we can be the couch surfing duo." Marcus said which left Ludwig a bit annoyed as it seemed like Marcus didn't take one thing seriously.





At least Marcus wasn't a jingoistic and xenophobic maniac who'd hand over Ludwig to the government as soon as he can.





GREMLIN


"What ya crazy ass motherfuckers doin' over there?" A completely stoned and unknown pedestrian exclaimed, he was given a fitting reply as he got sliced in half. Apparently, gigantic cy-murais have a strong hate for all things stoned.


Gremlin, taking quick advantage of that situation made the mile high run for the sanctuary, which were the now defunct sewers, and hopefully, it still ain't running.


The samurai reflexively noticed the running victim, and decided to move in like a young athletic angry woman. Which of course, wasn't exactly the best in Gremlin's health.


Gremlin made a slide for the awkwardly open sewer grate right in the middle of the street. As he slid, he looked back to give a mocking salute to the stupid robot, only to see that it was sliding too.


Things by now were getting uber weird, not to mention that one of the stupid menial workers decided to drop a lid on that hole right at that fucking moment, thus rendering his move invalid. However, Gremlin wasn't going to let a robot slice him into two pieces vertically, he'd rather make the most cowardly move than get a immediate twin. He analysed the environment, noticing a very large yet abandoned derelict apartment block, over 50 storeys or so it seemed. There were some construction equipment lying around the place, implying that the place was previously under construction. Nevertheless, to escape a relentless dumb bot, he had to go to some higher ground.


Even if it looked like a mission way too impossible to complete.


JACKAL


Jackal silently went through the streets with his squadron. They were in a covert urban operation, of course, that was exactly what he was trained to do. It was phase one of operation flagship, and the U-Guys were directly assisted by the DEADLOCK industries security front and some subtle help from the United Anti-terrorism Command (UAC). The mission objective was to eliminate all known terroristic criminals and anarchists, for which, they've gotten some help from some local mercenaries.


As they slipped through the shadows of the slums of the downtown district. A barrage of gun noises became more and more audible, yep, it was the call. Maybe it was one of them nudist Fixers. Those Boisterous freaks of washed up assassins.


They slowly moved towards the more eastern sides of the downtown blocks, until they noticed that the noise was from a damn turret in a damn armoured car, actually it was clearly visible. Nevertheless, the main matter was that this guy had one big vehicle, which had illegal firearms inserted in it. Of course, all of them wasn't legal in the slightest way.


He watched the car for a few minutes as he ordered his team to standby and wait for further orders. By the looks of it, this car won't give up so easily, and the first step any reasonable and not a trigger-happy idiot would take was to reason with that person.


Jackal, using his cyberspace deck, connected to a some nearby speakers, previously used as propaganda machines, but long since abandoned. It was the perfect machine for speaking stuff, and that too, very loudly. And hopefully, the gunner won't realize were the voice actually came from.


He quietly spoke into his holographic wrist device, which was broadcasted at a more large volume on the speakers, but the strange thing was the propaganda machines were pre-coded to synthesize the user's voice into a deep voice with a strong African accent. This thing even had a loop feature.


"You've been tracked down! Surrender to our forces and we'll make sure that you'll be unharmed! I repeat, surrender your weapons and exit that vehicle! Or we'll be forced to call in reinforcements." The speaker boomed out, in a strong African accent, of course.


Meanwhile...





The mission was actually more than what it actually seemed to be, as it was, in reality, a full-blown takedown operations as multiple serpent class soldiers from the United National Defence Program (UNDP) Flooded put into the streets to take down any resistant perpetrators and/or past perpetrators.


GRENDEL


And the perpetrator has an armoured vehicle and Grendel had a missed shot under his belt now. Oh, how so her unfortunate it was, for him to be precise. He did what any smart an would do in a situation like this, and that was duck all the way down to the ground in a prone position, so the bullets don't hit you. Grendel did exactly that before rolling out for the counter to take some protection from the rain go fire he was facing.


And as if on cue, a large voice boomed out from the western side of the street.


However, Grendel couldn't analyse the source of that noise any further, because he was quite pinned down to his cover. And he didn't what his head to blow off.


OPERATION DETAILS:





"Serpent" class: A type of soldier class widely used by many of the militaristic organizations in Neon city. They're more lightly armoured and equipped with light to medium weaponry with a wide arsenal of non-lethal and lethal weaponry designed to perform quick Eliminations of targets and in more smaller quarters were speed is necessary, which is also their main attribute. Particularly deployed in tightly packed slum districts and interior operations.


DEADLOCK Industries Security Front (DISF): Their privately funded security force, or more commonly named as their private army. Nevertheless, their tech usually changes and completely depends on their money and success. The forces themselves are quite trigger-happy and they hate studs, hookers and all stoners out there.


United Anti-terrorism Command (UATC): A government funded agency who specializes in urban combat and anti-terrorism. They have moderate to adept levels of technology, and there aren't any levels of tidal success which effects soldier equipment. Though, if there's little success or productivity, Squadrons are aslwoly withdrawn, until there are no left and the mission is successfully and concisely labelled as a failure.