• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Futuristic Imperium (Futuristic Superpower rp) (O/A)

OOC
Here
Characters
Here
35c5f647bffdcd17ed80f8af684ea373.png


JACOB HARDWHICK
╬════════════════════════════════════╬
Mood: Relieved, in pain

Location: Slums, Apartment Complex Boiler Room
╚══════════════╝

It had appeared the plan went accordingly, as Jacob watched diligently as Faust attacked the Super, now dawning a beautiful diamond form. The form displayed not only a unique and strong power, but revealed Faust's prowess in said ability. The Rebel Leader was glad his intuition and observation of Faust's powers were correct, the arms dealer's body completely made of diamond now. All he had to do was lend his ring. He was sure his wife wouldn't have minded if it meant his survival. With a sigh of relief Jacob holstered his weapon, as Faust subdued their enemy, however Jacob's vision blurred a bit, briefly, evidently a side effect of his secondary 'gift' it seemed . His vision stabilized in time though for him to see Faust rip their aggressor to shreds. He couldn't blame the dealer. If Jacob's businesses were targeted, his cold demeanor would be replaced with rage, in place of his usually emotionless demeanor. This wasn't to say that Faust wasn't outwardly violent with the finishing blow, showing the arms dealer's burning anger from within, something Jacob had caught wind of a few times since encountering the man.

A wet and warm sensation was felt on bare skin, followed by hair follicles. Jacob touched just above his upper lip, and examined his fingers, blood marking them with a sign that his nose was bleeding. He was quick to wipe before Faust disembarked from the their enemy. Even though the duo worked together, weakness wasn't Jacob liked to show, even to his gun supplier. Approaching both Faust and the now mangled and dead super, Jacob listened as Faust gave his thanks. Jacob waved his hand politely. "There's no need for thanks. I would've found this building eventually. If anything we helped each other speed things up" Jacob had said, briefly turning his gaze back to the carnage of corpses under rubble and the, now dead, Tier 5 Super. Listening further, he extended his hand, something the Rebel rarely did without some form of respect, for which he had a lot of for Faust. For a businessman he showed prowess, strength, and a capability for fighting. Jacob could always use someone like that even as an outside benefactor.

"You make some wonderful weapons Mr. Faust. I recognized you halfway through the fight. Hard to forget who sold you a fine weapon" Jacob said, in reference to the Vector he had. Although not bought directly from Faust, Jacob was good with faces, and remembered the owner's face in an ad that the salesperson had with them. "Jacob Hardwhick. A bit of a businessman myself here in the Slums of Neo" Jacob continued. "I own a body shop and a deli. Although I'm sure you figured maybe even from appearances that I have other dealings" he finished. He wasn't usually one to talk a lot, or give out information, however Faust was a strong super, a known arms dealer, and a potential ally. While Jacob usually had a cold and closed up demeanor, he found he could always be a bit more open with potential allies, or respectable fighters.

Taking a glance over at the Tier 5 they had just beaten, Jacob's mind wandered, although still attentive to Faust. The gap between a Tier 5 and the ones below was evident now to Jacob. It took a two on one to overcome, and Jacob rarely struggled with other supers. However he couldn't help but notice the black tar that oozed from the corpses' eyelids and nostrils. No doubt the same drugs he was trying to smother from the area. Jacob was laisse-faire with a lot of activity in the Slums, between gang wars and drugs. Humans couldn't avoid these things. There seemed to be a super drug going around though that for non-powered people gave a good high, but for powered individuals gave some extra confidence behind their powers. Jacob wondered how much their slain adversary had taken to give them such a struggle, or if it didn't boost his powers but rather nullified weaknesses. Either way the drug was a problem


"We should probably leave the premises after freeing your employees. I could use a breather and a drink" Jacob said to Faust, willing to follow, and try to garner some sort of deal perhaps. If Jacob could get Faust's arms behind the Rebels, the cost wouldn't matter, it would definitely give way to a fighting chance against Imperium. On top of that with all the damage in the complex, Jacob definitely felt better taking things outside. He was sure the police would eventually come and deal with ever the bodies. The Slums was not absent of police, but it was rare for them to appear quickly, usually off the basis that they liked staying alive, and paper work was better than a building full of junkies and a Tier 5.

"And the ring back of course"

Interaction: SidTheSkid SidTheSkid
 
vera.transmission.pngᴅʀ. ᴠᴇʀᴀ ꜱᴏᴋᴏʟᴏᴠ
Location //
Czarna Dama
▂▂▂____________. . . _____________▂▂▂
In the heart of the bustling bar, the air is alive with almost solemn energy of those who survived the chaotic firefight. Conversations meld together, animated discussions, and clinking glasses. The room is adorned with dim lighting, casting a warm, intimate glow that embraces the patrons. Vera graciously took her merlot, peering down into the glass as if thoroughly inspecting it for sanitary purposes. She gave it a gentle swish, raised it to her lips to get a whiff of it's aroma and gently took a sip. It delectably danced with the respected taste buds. Licking the flavor off her bottom lip, she offered a nod to the bartender as a subtle 'thank you'.

Twisting ever so slightly at the hip, she angled a rather receptive ear to listen in on the other conversations taking place. Having noticed that familiar Yakuza from the interactions earlier with her hostage, it formed curiosity in Vera. Albeit her business to be with this 'Alex', she was thrilled to having the pleasure of gathering more information on all that have participated in the previous calamity outside. The Yakuza fledgling revealed her face and without hesitation, that peculiar substitute of an eye visually scanned over her. Running as much data along Vera's visual hud. Overhearing her exchange greetings and revealing her name only confirmed her analytics were correct.

Vera gave the glass another swirl and sip, "Awfully bold to allow so many mixed coterie in your establishment." She stated to the bartender in observation as more patrons trickled in, "You must be confident in your abilities to corral anyone who gets out of line" Vera raised her glass with slight admiration, yet her lowered gazed averted to Ayako,
"Especially with a Yakuza member. Correct me if I'm wrong, was it not the Yakuza having played an essential part of the catastrophe outside?"
▂▂▂____________. . . _____________▂▂▂
interactions | SnowStorm42 SnowStorm42 Loomis Loomis
 
The Revenant
Revenant Concept art 1.jpg
The Revenant stood in the debriefing room within the classified area of Imperium HQ, his advisor; Admiral Stone was yelling at his lackeys, W-20 and 11. The surviving units from the battle. More reinforcements had been called in to assist the cleanup and detainment. "Your priority was to contain EPOI-2782, instead you left the battleground; explain to me why we shouldn't replace you with one of the board members kids?'
The Revenant responded in his distorted and cold voice: "EPOI-2782 had injured me and could likely terminate me if I hadn't fled; instead he saved a random gang member, i appears he has a priority to protect 'innocents'

Stone slammed his fists on the table "We spent so many resources, hunting down unaligned heroes: The Defenders, Delta Team, and now this Abyss. Has he shown mercy or the priority over innocents before? The PR team is going to have to go into overtime if he continues fighting us while saving the innocent. A misinformation campaign appears to be in order; Regalia's footage may be required." The Revenant nodded before opening the door "Wait."
The Revenant turned to his boss "If you fail again, Project Rebirth will be terminated and your contract will be ended prematurely.

The Revenant walked into his wing of the lower levels; Doctor Black was attending several machines in front of a cryo pod. "Evening sir, Vital signs are stable."
The Revenant stood forward and wiped the frost form the window; showing a beautiful woman, her skin pale. "Good, what is the progress on our prisoner?" the mercenary turned to the Doctor. "His vitals are low, as expected and his regenerative effect is starting to 'Rot'."
The doctor usually described the effects of Revenants ability as "rotting", as the victims abilities slowly faded, their life force along with it. Leaving a hollowed husk.
The revenant stepped into the containment area, cages with glowing bars separated the pair from what he called the Abominations.

Inside each cell was a pale humanoid creature, laughing with demonic laughter, sending a chill even down The Revenants spine. The things had blood shot eyes, their hands sharpened into bony claws. Their mouth full of razor sharp teeth.

The room smelt of rot, noises of anguish came from the furthermost cell, past the empty cells; some bloodied, others clean. Two men where tied to hospital beds, a continuous IV full of viscous liquid being fed into them.

The first man was the crime lord : Midas, with the ability to turn anything he touched to gold. Next to him was the man captured during the previous raid on the rebel stronghold.

The pair bellowed in pain, complaining about voices and laughing. The doctor had explained it as hysteria from the pain. The doctor checked their vitals and said “They are ready.”

The revenant and doctor went into the observation room as the beds went down a track into two separate cells, following each a robotic arm with a syringe full of a foreign liquid.

The Revenant had simply used a syringe of his blood on a captive hero, but after joining imperium, an improved serum born from his blood was born.

The Revenant nodded to the doctor and the arms moved forward, spearing the two men and plunging the serum into the men’s heart.

It was first gradual as the men convulsed; their skin paling, the body fat and muscle disappearing.

A second pair of syringes pulled two vials of glowing liquid from each man: Gold and Blue; Regeneration and Gold Transformation. The vials where instantly put into a refrigerated briefcase, and taken to Research and Development, where the team would attempt to harness the power to replicate the abilities.

Sometimes they would send an abomination to the department, but they had enough for project Goliath.

As the pair left the containment area, the pair joined in the laughter before the vault doors shut.
Eddie Gears
Eddie sat in the armored Limo, a con sealed pistol in his jacket. He hadn’t seen the point, seeing as the peashooter would do little damage. But he likely wouldn’t need it. He had a case full of the pills, one to preserve his facial reconstruction and to drain his abilities every day.

Leo had been an frequent patron of the Czarna Dama, and after a quick briefing on how his doppelgänger acted; he knew exactly what to do. He had been on undercover missions before, he had simply had needed a breakdown on his personality, information he would need to know, and favorite beverage.

Leo frequently showed off his wealth, and was a jackass; Eddie had used that cover plenty, so after approaching the bar he ordered Leo’s favorite drink and tried to emulate the body language he had watched. He knew that now that he was undercover as Leo, he would need to prioritize hiding his face when fighting crime as Abyss. Luckily, the reconstruction was able to be changed in a minute using a black capsule in his wallet. He would be spending the next few weeks within Leo’s mansion; so he had decided to go to the bar, hoping Leo’s usual was agreeable.
 
Repemtia had just as soon sat down ready to order as a voice caught her ear from the side and while she kept her face staring mostly forward she did shift an eye to look behind the mirrored glasses. Apparently, this place was slightly more vocal than her usual where all had kept heads down.

"My previous prefered spot was unfortunately vigorously perforated by the rebel's most recent playtime and is currently buried under several floors of rubble" She idly cast a hand to the side with a faint sigh "So yeah I'm a first-timer here at the black lady"

It didn't escape her notice that it was more than just Tristan who she had gained the attention, another man just down the bar seemed to be struggling not to keep looking as well. She would almost suspect he recognised her, but quickly discarded the thought, it was more likely she was just a prettier face than was normal for this place. Scanning around a little more she idly wondered if she should try to throw on some cosmetic chrome of false scars in future, it might make her blend in slightly better with the rougher patrons, or then again maybe just some make-up to look like dirt or something.

"I feel this is the place where drinks would normally flow frequently and cheaply regardless, but i would perhaps suspect your not a frequent patron either, given that Chrome seems a little shinier modern than a lot of others in these parts"

Meatball30 Meatball30 Xen6n Xen6n
 
[Czarna Dama - Neo-City Middle]

"I haven't been robbed for it yet, so I'm counting my blessings," Tristan joked with a crooked half-smile, twisting in his bar stool to get a better look at the woman. While her loose outfit concealed most of her physique, it didn't mask her near Amazonian height, which he only now noticed after a more complete glance. Her vocabulary was a bit more than he'd expect to find in this part of the city, though he supposed he might just need to check his biases. "New to this part of the city in general. And loving it, aside from the occasional terrorist attack and near-death experience. That's a new one just today, though."

In his delightfully buzzed state, he couldn't help but giggle at her description of her usual haunt's fate.

"You can at least raise a glass to work, or whatever else made sure you weren't there when it happened," he suggested. "Hard to tell who to thank for the place getting leveled though, the 'heroes' or the criminals. I think I nearly caught a stray couple tons of car when the super gal showed up. At least she had the decency not to screw up my instrument, maybe she loves the fine arts," he scoffed, amused.

"Were you around when all that went down? Things are getting... scary, honestly." Tristan shook his head, taking a sip of another cocktail that had shown up on the bar in front of him. He didn't seem to mind running up a tab by then.

PlusUltra PlusUltra
 
The girl takes one of the glasses placed before her and raises it before taking a deep drink "Quite the opposite, I never said I wasn't there when it happened, it was actually due to trying to get away from work but I know to remove myself when things get too troublesome. You see enough of stuff like that and it just becomes mundane regardless" she idly swirls the glasses contents in her hand pausing "As for blame? I think id put it mostly on the idiots compensating with all the guns, though the earth-shaking terry likely didn't help. When the real supes show up there mostly just want to clean up the mess as quickly as possible, honestly they should just give them the go-ahead to clean house rather than just reacting, they have enough organisation to do it, but part of me thinks that if they solved the problem then they would have nothing to make money on. Scary makes people want more heroes I guess, demand for the supply and all that"

Meatball30 Meatball30
 
Fauster.png

[Location: Lower Neo-City, The Slums.]
[Currently: Expecting Jacob to join him. ]
[Mood: Relaxed. ]

With a small nod of acknowledgement at the kind gesture, Faust reached out to accept Jacob's offered handshake. However, as their hands neared each other he'd instinctively recoil back after noticing that his complexion was still consistent with the crystalline Diamond texture; its material still shrouding Faust's skin its nigh impenetrable hardness. Not wishing to uintentionally harm Jacob, he felt it necessary to take the extra precaution of liberating his control over the material. So, with some deliberate focus of his own psychological will, he was able to let the Diamond substance layering over his skin to vacate from his pores and into a glittery mist, thereupon returning him back to his normal, fleshy state. After doing so, Faust would've adjusted his own tie before his hand would finally meet Jacob's in a firm and genuine handshake.

"I take it that vigilantism is one of your regulatory pastimes? Ah, you flatter me with your compliments Mr.Hardwhick. Rest assured that I always provide the best for my clientele, anything less would be an unsightly stain upon my name. That is why I provide nothing short of exceptional firepower; 'A Bangin' value for every Shot.'"

A faint, mischievous smile played upon Faust's lips as he recalled one of his company's more popular commercials, he would specifically reference this with a well-known slogan that came from it. With a playful glint in his eyes, he raised his hand, forming an imaginary gun shape with his fingers, and mimicked pulling the trigger, there was good chance that Jacob would've seen this advertisement before, it always found itself playing on certain television programs later in the evening. Faust was quick to take note of the man's name, "Jacob Hardwick," committing it to memory; he would be quite surprised to also learn that this Jacob Hardwick character was also somewhat of a 'business man' himself, engaging in the entrepreneurial endeavors of managing both an autobody shop and a deli simultaneously.

"Initially, I perceived you as just a mechanic, and it seems my assumption was partially accurate but such details are inconsequential... Though I must say, you certainly are quite talented, it takes a special man to juggle dual enterprises while undertaking the noble task of 'rejuvenating' the slums of its parasites."

With an accentuated emphasis on the word "parasites," Faust casted his heartless gaze upon the lifeless body of the former 'supe', he too would catching sight of the repugnant black sludge oozing from certain facial orifices, clearly a sign of heavy drug-usage. Such an utterly pitiable sight! Even with an excessive reliance on performance-enhancing substances, their fate still culminated in failure. Faust expressed his disdainful disapproval, shaking his head in disdain. However, his attention swiftly returned to Jacob, who proposed the notion of indulging in some intoxicating beverages, an enticing proposition indeed. When Jacob expressed his concern for Faust's captive employees, Faust nonchalantly waved his hand back and forth, dismissing the matter as if it held no significance; there was already an alternative suggestion that he had in mind, one deemed to be a safer and more preferable option.

"No need, I shall dispatch some 'gentleman' to come by and release my employees, now that we have taken care of those bothersome threats. Naturally, they will see to it that the evidence of any unpleasantries we caused is swiftly cleaned up. I'm sure you understand; there are no positive outcomes to being associated with such an unsightly incident, its imperative that such risks are minimized...For both our sakes..."

With a deliberate motion, Faust unfurled his fingers, releasing the necklace and ring from his sturdied grasp and placing them gently into Jacob's awaiting hand. The silver necklace and its precious diamond centerpiece now returned to their rightful owner. Faust turned away after relinquishing the items, making his slow departure from the boiler room and being sure to avoid the heaps of rubble and mess strewn about the floor, however, as he reached the threshold that led out into the apartment's ground floor corridors, Faust paused and his instincts would bring him looking over his shoulder and back to Jacob.

"I'm unsure if you've arrived with your own means of transportation, but if not, i'd suggest joining me in my limousine that's parked at the forefront of this building, i'm sure it's far better than walking all the way to the bar."

With that, he'd briefly raise his hand with a genial wave before stepping out from the boiler room, into the halls, and eventually out of the apartment. Once outside, Faust took a moment to casually brush off some dust coating his shoulder, a seemingly effortless gesture that spoke volumes about his composed demeanor, caring little of the lives he'd stolen or the possibility of losing his own, to Faust it was just another matter of business that was resolved. He continued his short journey, making his way to the idle limousine just outside the apartment, Faust's eyes relieved to see the sight of his loyal butler, Nigel Henderson, still sitting patiently in the driver's seat. The moment Faust entered the vehicle, Nigel turned to face him, his features calm and composed even with all the commotion that had occured earlier.

> "Welcome back, sir. It is most fortunate to see that you have returned unharmed."

> "Thank you, Nigel. And if you would be so kind as to inform our esteemed 'clean up' services of this address? Just a routine task of disposing of the bodies and the customary procedures that go along with it."

> "Certainly sir, I shall inform them posthaste."

> "Furthermore, it seems we shall have the pleasure of an additional passenger on this excursion. A helpful fellow by the name of "Jacob Hardwick"; his timely intervention made this ordeal considerably less irksome."

> "Oh?"

The butler, Nigel, couldn't help but wear a slightly quizzical expression as he cast a sidelong glance out of the side window, expectant of this "Jacob Hardwick" to arrive. Faust had already shifted himself to the other side of the back seat, positioning himself away from the still opened passenger door; providing an immediate and inviting seat for Jacob if he were to accept the earlier propsal that faust had made.

[ SnowStorm42 SnowStorm42 ]

 
  • "Makenshi is supposed to be in charge of the transport this time." The thought of who was coming to pick up Kenzo made Ao shiver. It was silent in the safehouse for a moment. "How'd Ayako do?"

    "Haha, Abazure!" Kenzo looked down at his hand, the severed digits that represented his failures to the family reminded him of what was waiting for him after being caught so easily. Inhaling a deep breath brought a moment of sobriety, "She did good, really good. You think the boss will promote her?"

    "Maybe, I wouldn't mind having her as Shategashira. She looks after her own at least."

    Kenzo let out a laugh and lifted his can of Sapporo into the air, "I'll drink to that." True to his word, he upturned the can and emptied it in one swift draught.

    Ao raised an eyebrow before tentatively asking, "So what exactly did the Imperium want from you? It's like the family says, 'sarawareta tok was, inochi ga nai to omo.' We don't negotiate hostages, and yet... Here you are."

    The jovial demeanor was suddenly gone from Kenzo. He sat straight up right, gooseflesh beginning show on his arms as his hair stood on end. "You don't want to know." The two sat in silence a while longer, with nothing but their beers and spirits to keep them company.
 
Last edited:
Power Warper
Zelos
Grant Atonal
Neo-City Middle, Czarna Dama
Grant was taken aback when the grumpy Yakuza girl interjected herself and apologized to him about her behavior earlier. It wasn't that he misjudged her as a cold person who was incapable of apologizing, it was that he hadn't had many people apologize to him in his life, and sometimes when they did, he didn't know what to say. As he looked at the Yakuza girl closely, a short pause came before he finally gathered himself to reply, "It's alright, I understand if I may have sounded patronizing and I want to apologize about that. We were all under pressure, and given what had transpired, no one would've been in a good mood. The name's Grant by the way."

It was his cue to quit ogling the woman and giving the idea that he was physically attracted after noticing how Repemtia looked his way and saw him staring. He returned his attention to Rachel, who was still speaking with the illusionist and who, based on her appearance and behavior, most likely worked for the government.
Code by Serobliss
 
8da51c7a12ea52b50a197b55ed2abcd4.jpg
Ayako cocked an amused brow as she noticed the effects of the alcohol Rachel was quickly consuming started to show. The swaying motions as she sat in her seat and ever so slight slur to her words. As much as Ayako would love to let loose and relax, she hated losing control, and she definitely wasn’t going to lose her wits with corporates so close by. A small chuckle also slipped from her mouth as Rachel let out an infectious laugh at their previous predicament.

“I appreciate the offer, I am hopeful things will go in my favor though.” Part of that statement was true. She knew she had completed the job and Kenzo was relatively unharmed, but the scuffle was not in the plan and she knew they would have something to say about it. Ayako watched enviously as Rachel and the bartender tossed playful looks and gestures at one another. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a friend, or even just light hearted conversation. Her life had been a whirlwind of violence and hard wo for the past few years and while she was grateful for the Yakuza she had to admit she missed the life she used to have.

“Ayako,” She nodded and gave Grant a small smile. “It’s alright, like you said everyone was heated in the moment.” She wasn’t expecting him to also apologize back to her, most of her interactions with men did not go this way.

“Shots?” Ayako was surprised Rachel was so ready to continue drinking. The woman had already drained so much out of the bottle she was holding and wanted to add more? If I drank that much I would be a mess.

“I will have to raincheck the shots,” she tossed a quick glance at the women behind her and noticed Vera was staring in her direction. Great.


“The catastrophe was not caused by myself or anyone else related to the Yakuza,”
Ayako snapped and turned to fully face the cold features of the woman beside her. “If it wasn’t for the others that inserted themselves violence would have been avoided.” Her finger tapped the cool glass of her drink out of annoyance, her irritation with Vera was written all over her face. The original plan was to drop in on the hand off, lightly drain oxygen out of the area, snatch up Kenzo and get the hell out of there. But, like most plans, things didn’t play out as she had hoped for. She had to force herself to not mention the Omnitech drones and their insertion, she wasn’t looking to start another tussle but she also wasn’t going to let Vera construe the situation for anything other than how it was.

Interactions: Loxely Loxely , Xen6n Xen6n SnowStorm42 SnowStorm42 | Mentions: Sepokku Sepokku
 
"Ugh..." Rachel sure was popular. Which in this case, meant she was competent at her job. The woman that had been tired and dirty, dragged at least some distance at gunpoint, seemed to be in fairly better spirits now. The Yakuza ducked out for a while, came back, and resumed the conversation. One of those (literally) dry, corpo-looking types got into the mix as well, and seemed to be deliberately trying to get a rise out of her.

The topic of shots came up.

And that was Molly's cue, of sorts. She wasn't much of a talker, but there was always that expectation among the White Lotus to be contributing to the...networking, on some level. Molly reached into her pants pocket, just to confirm that the card was still there.

Getting up, she made her way over to Rachel, standing a little over Ayako and giving Rachel a nod.

"You're looking better." She tried to smile slightly,but failed. "So, Sssssssarna Darma." She was evidently unused to the pronunciation. "Nice place you got here. I mean it." Not too good at saying things in a non-threatening way either.

"Uh, the White Lotus is always looking for new business partners. So when your liquor runs out-" Not "if". "-give them a call."

Turning her hand over, Molly pressed a rather tasteful business card down and slid it over to Rachel. The black rectangle bore the symbol of a white lotus with gold trim in the center, surrounded by vaguely "Oriental" geometric patterns in the corners. Beneath it in tiny cursive print was the contact information of one "Michael Lam - Chairman, Brewing Division". There was almost certainly no person of that name in the White Lotus, or anywhere in the city. Like many of the large organizations in the city, the White Lotus was no stranger to "creative accounting".

SnowStorm42 SnowStorm42

(mentions: Loomis Loomis Loxely Loxely )
 
"Scary makes people want more heroes I guess, demand for the supply and all that."
Tristan pondered that for a moment. It wasn't a controversial opinion, to be sure - plenty of folks outside the upper echelons of Neo-City society had reason to despise the long and corrupting tendrils of the myriad corporations that guided the city's fate. They were present from The Slums to The Acres in one form or another, usually wearing multiple faces and with multiple interests. He knew he'd certainly been on the beneficial end of that.

"Careful, some might think you're suggesting our model entrepreneurs are creating problems to sell the solution," Tristan half-joked. "Though, do you really think supers having carte blanche to act on their own would be any different? I'm certain we've got plenty of good guys out there held back by red tape and corporate nonsense, but..."

It seemed like he struggled to find the words for a moment, getting the gears in his by then whiskey-riddled head turning with some effort, absentmindedly kicking his heels against the instrument case beneath his bar stool.

"I dunno. Seems like there's plenty of other heroes that would just do the same thing as the corporations, except then, they're the ones profiting directly," he shrugged. "The devil you know and all that."

PlusUltra PlusUltra
 
"Careful, some might think you're suggesting our model entrepreneurs are creating problems to sell the solution,
"Effective and self-sustaining business model to keep shareholders happy" She finishes the drink and raises a finger for another. "It's all a carefully managed eco-system, but you take away the red tape and the predators gorge themselves, no prey left, starvation, cannibalism, and it all comes crumbling down." she idly tips over one of the empty glasses for emphasis.

Part of knowing her PR and a good ear did give her more insight into how the whole thing worked, though as long as it sounded like just bar speak and rambling nobody would realise just how truthful it was. Then again this was far more talking than she normally did when out drinking regardless. "I mean the whole devil thing is a very convenient stick to know, makes the carrot more appealing, or the bigger stick i suppose"

Meatball30 Meatball30
 
Lilian sat quietly at the bar, examining the operation proposal that one of her drones had drafted up. It intended to hit the safehouse Kenzo had disappeared into. Unfortunately, it had also reported the plan to the proper authorities and it had made its way up the chain of command; Imperium had heard of it, and they had already taken control of the operation. No matter, Omnitech Industrials always had a solution.

Sending out two specific units as reinforcements, Lilian revised their plan of operation. No longer were they to orchestrate a raid on the compound, instead theirs was a singular objective: the safe and discreet retrieval of a Yakuza informant. A feeling of trepidation ran down her spine at what she was about to do, then she took the virtual leashes off of Ech0 and the other two assigned to the mission. At least if worst came to worst, they wouldn't be able to put the blame fully on her.

With that squared away, her attention returned to the bar scene. A new arrival appeared, having overridden her perception filters due to the simple fact that she was the only class six super Lilian knew of. Carefully piggybacking off of electronics in the area, she watched Repemtia without looking at her. The speakers on several phones picked up bits and pieces of her conversation.

"...go-ahead to clean house... enough organization... solved the problem... nothing to make money on..."

Various analysis software took samples from every audio input device in the room, then used phase cancellation to isolate extraneous noise. Voice wavelengths were analyzed, categorized, and synthesized into a portfolio to read their owners lips. Every micro expression mapped and analyzed, then ran through a database that attributed each one to a degree of deception. All of this, of course, had already been running idly in the background, on the few people she had whitelisted in her HUD. However, Repemtia was quite the oddity in Neo-City, and her sudden arrival prompted an immediate reallocation of resources.

Imperium's poster girl was wearing quite the ridiculous get-up. 'Really? The city's savior, and she's airheaded enough to think that costume would hide her.' Though, she conceded, it had taken several weeks before her facial topography had started to show up on Omnitech's sensors, and it had been successfully hiding her until then. Her tinnitus started to act up, a high-pitched ringing noise seeming to emanate from every direction. The amount of raw data started to overwhelm her. Taking a deep breath, she counted backwards from five.

'Pieci. Cetri. Tris. Divi. Viens.' Things got quiet again, her software having successfully isolated exactly what she was trying to tune into. Repemtia was talking to someone, a chrome head, according to her readings.

"I'm certain we've got plenty of good guys out there held back by red tape and corporate nonsense, but... I dunno. Seems like there's plenty of other heroes that would just do the same thing as the corporations, except then, they're the ones profiting directly. The devil you know and all that."

"Effective and self-sustaining business model to keep shareholders happy. It's all a carefully managed eco-system, but you take away the red tape and the predators gorge themselves, no prey left, starvation, cannibalism, and it all comes crumbling down."

Lilian let out a derisive snort. Her power sent an audio file straight to the Chrome head she was talking to, playing directly in his ear, inaudible to everyone but him. "A lion in a circus, will tell all the other lions how great it is to be part of that circus, never knowing the true freedom it is missing."

Looking at her watch, she realized she had a bit of time to kill. Standing up, she made her way over to the two. "Apologies, but I couldn't help but overhear the two of you, and I'm afraid you're quite mistaken young lady. All that red tape is there to protect the Imperium." A smile started to spread across her face as she explained, "There's a reason sponsored heroes rarely patrol the slums." Running her finger across her throat, she made a choking noise, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Last one they sent down there didn't even encounter a rival super. Just some angry locals." She pantomimed a bullet whirling through the air and into her head, exploding its contents out the other side.

"They can't hack it down there. Shit, I've heard the Resistance has been working with a weapons contractor to pump out new toys. Word on the street is they have something that's going to put the Lunar Princess in the ground. A weapon that capitalizes on her own power, turning it into a fatal weakness."

Her supple shoulders rose into a bored shrug, "Not to mention the casualties caused by the Imp's own. That's something you never see on the news. It's not good television to talk about how Macho Master had a breakdown and tore through an orphanage thinking Captain Kidd was hiding there, or the lives lost trying to reign him in, or how he was given six months paid leave and then reinstated. Think he's currently serving as private security or something..."

PlusUltra PlusUltra Meatball30 Meatball30
 
Last edited:
Rolling her eyes somewhat she craned her neck back slightly to look towards the new arrival, really a lion in a circus? never the less she didn't let the annoyance seep into her features as she responded.

"It seems like you got your parties muddled up, the point I was making was the red tape does protect the imperium for long-term reliable and stable profit over short-term gain and risk."

She did give off a faint laugh about the mention of the last hero killed down in the slums, from what she recalled it was a smiling upstart looking to prove themselves on the outside, but just some idiot pushing to boost themselves before the whole contract renewal in reality. It honestly helped Imperium once it was spun right, more to demonize the rebels, a small memorial to drum up more support, and an easy way to get rid of an idiot that didn't play the game "Oh yeah I think I caught the memorial service, Gold Star? Gold Dawn? Was something gold....anyway, the weapons really are not that much of a deal. I mean they are putting all the effort to deal with a level 4? Even if they dont bring her back like that Black Blanc guy, she's not even the strongest one on that super team of hers, If anything it's those levels 5's they really need to worry about"

Seriously though, the idiots trying to come up with some anti-gravity weapon? Imperium already had a few like that though naturally they had a limit and could be overpowered, heck she had broken more than a few in all the testing. Still....she would likely have to put up an act like there doing a good job and it's working, that would be a pain, but her little handler would demand a performance either way. Some of the scientists would likely want data on it as well.

"Macho? Yeah its hard to keep track of all those running around, Really there are too many Captains to keep track of like they don't understand the concept of stolen valour, though guess it's only slightly worse than all those dropouts trying to call themselves Doctor something. Eh either way, even if they did report it on the news people will forget when the next shiny news story comes along, heck in a few weeks that mess down at the junctions will be replaced by your next regularly scheduled incident."

If she cared enough she might have looked up the Macho guy, but the standard procedure was to move them away for a few months then give them either some big redemption story or new costume if they were worth bringing back, tossed away otherwise.

Though she did have to admit this woman did seem a little more informed and from the smaller details she was another one from higher up in the acres. Did she get turned round and pick the wrong bar, she honestly didnt expect so many of the upper class to be in this area, or was it maybe just a good spot she hadn't heard of before?.
 
35c5f647bffdcd17ed80f8af684ea373.png


JACOB HARDWHICK
╬════════════════════════════════════╬
Mood: Relieved

Location: Slums, in a Limo
╚══════════════╝

Jacob watched as Faust reverted to his flesh form, something that seemed to take focus and patience, before giving the Rebel leader a very firm handshake. Jacob was a bit old school with that due to his time in the military, but a firm handshake showed some form of character, although the battle they had just ended showed plenty of both of their characters Jacob had thought. "I can't say it's a routine thing. Death, crime, substance abuse, it's all common place in the Slums. There are certain things I can't let slide though. We all look out for each other over here" Jacob found himself elaborating to Faust. The people of Neo-City Middle rarely knew what the Slums were like, unless they were from there, and those of the Acres couldn't imagine it even if they tried. The Slums were probably a trash can or not even a thought in the mind of those of the Acres. However the Slums bore a life of it's own that also had heart and soul. Often times shacks and tents on the layered levels of Rudon District, for example, would light lamps and fires during a heavy rain and watch and enjoy, or maybe sing for their neighbors. There was something about living in grime and knowing no one gave a shit that brought the people together. Even gangs tried to respect the residents to some degree, with a few outliers. Jacob occasionally did clean up on these outliers though. The drug problem, was caused by some of these outliers, he thought, as he glanced once more at the Tier 5's corpse, it's eyes now black from the black tar that gushed out.

Jacob let out a soft as the air of amusement out his nose as the arms dealer quoted his own, very popular, commercial. As Faust explained his assumption of Jacob being a mechanic, the ex soldier took a moment to glance at his clothing realizing he had smears of grease here and there. "I have good and loyal employees that help with the businesses. I learned time management early in life" Jacob said, not specifying his time in the military. He wasn't necessarily hiding the information, but felt it was better to not open up for more questions on the topic until he got to know the man better. His time in the service was a thing of the past anyway. The same applied to withholding information on his other business, as chop shop's were a divisive topic for those with and without cyberware.


Jacob shouldn't have been surprised that Faust would dispatch for someone to clean up the mess. The man walked and talked with an elegance, had a very successful business, and with that definitely status and money to have followers. That was something Jacob needed more of. Money. The businesses generated so much, but 'fighting tyranny' didn't sell to new members of the resistance as much as currency did. The Rebel leader appreciated Faust's implication of clean-up. The less evidence of Jacob's presnece and powers, the better. It was then his ring was returned to him. Taking the necklace, he placed it around his neck and locked it back into it's rightful place, before giving the ring on the end of it a quick rub. "Thanks hon" Jacob thought to himself.

As Faust suggested following him to his limousine, Jacob nodded, wanting to be able to decompress after a fight, his body aching with a the pain of an intense workout.

The limousine out front looked so very out of place amongst the debris, litter, and filth of the Slums. It was a sleek and polished black, luxurious, and more up to date than any models found in the Slums. Jacob was quick to dust off his jacket and remove it revealing his now lightly torn sweater. He folded the jacket into a neat square, with the outside of the coat facing out, to avoid getting the inside of the luxury vehicle dirty. He followed Faust into the vehicle that had an even nicer interior. His attention was immediately on the driver, Nigel. Jacob raised a hand in greeting.

"Good afternoon" Jacob said to the driver, not wanting to be rude. He turned his attention back to Faust. "Your demeanor tells me it's not uncommon that you've had to fight. You did really well in there. I can see how your knowledge of combat can be applied to the weapons you make" Jacob said to the arms dealer. "Glad we had a common foe. I don't think I could've handled that Tier 5 alone" Jacob said giving a nod in thanks. "Furthermore, I'm not picky, and have some time to kill before my next meeting, so where to?" Jacob asked


SidTheSkid SidTheSkid
 
e8dceaddf13609477986927a9c6574ab.png
Rachel Marewski
Rachel took a moment to appreciate that Ayako seemed to be enjoying herself. The group of supers she was grateful to all seemed stern, but with the Yakuza girl showing some enjoyment in the bar owner's company, it reminded Rachel's drunk brain that they were probably all under duress and were probably quite normal outside of conflict. That was the thing she learned bartending in this city. Everyone's true colors were buried under stress, conflict, and an unspoken political war that was very much alive in the streets.

Before Rachel could continue speaking with the Yakuza, Grant was introducing themselves and apologizing for what Rachel assumed was something she must've missed while unconscious. A smile watched the bartenders face watching the interaction, until the cold cybernetic lady from before, Vera, spoke to Rachel directly. Her smile lessened, but was still present in more of a smug drunk confidence. "The patrons are basically security. Not to say this little lady can't handle herself" Rachel said grinning at the corpo. She turned to face Ayako as she spoke to Vera about the Yakuza's involvement and saying that it was the involvement of others that caused the chaos. Rachel turned her whole head back to Vera, too drunk to allow for peripherals and subtly, but having to turn her whole attention to who was speaking.

"I'mmm not one for politcs, but uhh.. being in that shit..a little of everyone's fault. The gangss were most to blame but.." Rachel paused, trying to find her words. The thought was leaving her mind when she caught it really quick. "The Lunar Princess did a lot more damage than the news showed annnnd there were others trying to jump in too. Hard to point the finger at one-" hiccup "group" Rachel said, before putting the bottle on the counter.

Before she could give more of her two cents on the political talk the blue haired woman from the super group approached. Rachel felt popular. Her mind instinctively glanced over at the other newcomer, who seemed to now be engaged in her own conversation with the cyber-faced man and now Lillian. Sticking out a mental tongue and swaying in her seat, Rachel turned fully to face the blue haired girl, struggling to process her words but being sober enough to comprehend. Rachel laughed out loud at the pronunciation of her bar, something that never failed to make her chuckle at least, given its foreign name. "I was gonna go check on you actually, sitting alone over there. And thank you! The Szarna Dama" Rachel paused, with a smile, catching herself also slurring the name of the bar. "she's a good bar" Rachel said. She looked at Molly's hand placing the business card. Rachel proceeded to pick it up, finally lift her glasses onto her head revealing her light blue almost grey eyes, and give it a look, smirking at the fact that she was reading the card but not processing what was actually on the card, only taking note of the symbol.

'Rackin in the business deals today. I should endanger myself more often' Rachel thought. "More suppliers never hurts, what with laws, restrictions and taxes. And we can always try to give back in what way we can, be it with hired guns or entertainers" Rachel started. "Thanks, uh....." Rachel started, leaving room for Molly to introduce herself. It was then that Kevin brought the shots for the group, catching Rachel's attention. She gestured over to Vera and Molly, causing Kevin to pour the rest of the shaker in two more glasses, and sliding them over. Glasses of Kamikaze shots now sat in front of Vera, Ayako, and Rachel, with two more positioned where Grant and Molly stood.

Rachel looked over at Ayako, remembering what she said earlier.
"If you change your mind. I'll take it if you don't" Rachel said to Ayako with a wink. She then turned her head back to Vera. "And if we're gonna talk politics you need to loosen up ma'am" Rachel said with a grin.

Looking toward all of them now, Rachel took her glass and raised it. "Cheers to this crazy city" Rachel said, before hammering back her kamikaze shot. This would be the nail in the coffin for her ensured drunkenness. She felt good though, and it had been a while since she sat down with a bunch of customers and enjoyed their company. Rachel felt some interesting conversations were waiting for the group, and Rachel was going to enjoy herself. Some of them weren't hard on the eyes either. She was also confident that her loyal bartenders would make sure to keep her in check. She had to be sober enough to give a tour for Lillian at some point, and not embarrass herself

Interactions: Loxely Loxely Loomis Loomis Xen6n Xen6n Nellancholy Nellancholy Mentions: Sepokku Sepokku PlusUltra PlusUltra
 
Last edited:
"A lion in a circus, will tell all the other lions how great it is to be part of that circus, never knowing the true freedom it is missing."

The audio beamed straight into his cybernetics visibly caught Tristan off guard, particularly in his alcoholically lubricated state. It was enough to make him peel his eyes away from the comely stranger he'd struck up a conversation with, veering into the realm of politics that was so deliberately avoided in The Acres, and scan the room for the potential source of the discrete message.

He only identified the likeliest candidate when he stopped sifting through the tapestry of faces around the crowded room and acknowledged the newcomer - someone he was fairly certain he recognized, though not someone he knew personally. Of course, his parents had mastered the art of schmoozing long before he was born, and it only improved with age. Given her get-up and how she carried herself, Tristan had her pegged for another Acreite, perhaps.

The silvery-haired stranger seemed dismissive of the newcomer's ideas, though Tristan latched on to her word's a bit more than he otherwise might have, were he more sober.

Not to mention the casualties caused by the Imp's own. That's something you never see on the news.

"And especially in The Acres," Tristan scoffed aloud. "Ignorance is bliss and all that, right? Half the time I don't know that anyone there really... gets what's going on outside the gates. How tense things are getting. I know my folks certainly don't want to, and I don't want to tell them. Don't have the heart to. It's in the powers-that-be's best interest to keep it that way too, surely?"

even if they did report it on the news people will forget when the next shiny news story comes along

"I don't know if that's true. I think it might be for some folks living outside the worst of it, but... I also don't know if it's good to broadcast that type of shit? With where we're at right now I don't imagine a mass panic would make things any cleaner."

Tristan considered it for a moment, knocking back his watered-down whiskey sour to claim a loose ice cub and diluted alcohol. He crunched on the ice emphatically for a moment.

"I'm not sure if the folks down below forget so easily. Living outside the lap of luxury gives you a weirdly long memory, so far as corpo heroes going rogue or things like that. Something is going to give soon, and I don't know if anyone is going to be on the right side of things when it does."

His mind came back to the message that had been beamed into his circuits, though. Neo-City was certainly the world's largest circus, and Tristan had been raised among the lions he was warned about. His own parents included.

Yet having lived outside the Acres for all of a few months, and seen what he'd seen that day, things weren't quite so clear.


PlusUltra PlusUltra Sepokku Sepokku
 
Eddie Gears
Eddie took a sip from his drink, barley able to keep it down. He hadn’t had alcohol in a long time, ever since Nova Team. He had decided about two weeks into his isolation following their deaths that he wouldn’t touch any of that stuff that could cloud his senses. But to keep appearances he feigned enjoyment. The sight of the Yakuza members didn’t ease his nerves. The mention of Repemtia did give him a slight smirk as he sat there, before his earpiece crackled “Your supposed to blend in, Leo wouldn’t be in the corner alone.” Val said over the earpiece. Eddie pulled out his mobile and after a quick security lock he messaged her back Can’t risk being detected, I think i see an imp. In here. After sending a second fake text to a fake number he returned the mobile to his pocket, brushing the dagger he had concealed there. He would have rather carried a bag of miscellaneous items able to be constructed into a ceramic pistol, but who would bring that shit to a bar. He checked his watch and reasoned he had spent enough time there and was about to leave before another message went in “You leave we blow your head off.” Archangel himself said; the cold and uninterested voice, distorted to conseal his identity. “Another hour before you can head to the mansion. There we will debrief you and get you supplied.
 
vera.transmission.pngᴅʀ. ᴠᴇʀᴀ ꜱᴏᴋᴏʟᴏᴠ
Location // Czarna Dama

▂▂▂____________. . . _____________▂▂▂
Shrugging off the arrogance of the young Yakuza, "At the root of all the problem, regardless of those involved, it was the exchange of your precious hostage that created the calamity." Vera took another casual sip of her wine, eying the girl over the glass with a lowered gaze. Though, those mismatched eyes lazily drifted to the bartender who began showing signs of inebriation. She scoffed, teetering ideologies of the unprofessionalism in the bar, yet wisely keeping those opinions to herself. Vera knew well enough the room was packed with rather strong patrons and she wouldn't stand a chance. Averting her attention to the gloved prosthetic, she flexed a tightened fist and released it. Brushing a flat palm across her slacks to remove the residue of debris and dust from outside. Her lips curled into a scowl, filthy. Questioning why she agreed to leaving the sanction of her lab, where everything was pristine. She swirled the glass in her opposing hand, taking a final swig. Her potential business partner appeared distracted by the booming audience of the bar. Vera's furrowed brow deepened with annoyance of the chattering ambience and so, she set the empty glass down and gestured to the man to pay her tab.

Rising up from her stool, her lengthy thin silhouette nearly towering those in attendance. Her physique was something she took pride in, her height was an easy foot in the door for subtle intimidation. Vera's boots clacked against the hardened floor as she approached the Yakuza girl, Ayako, resting her manufactured hand on the girl's shoulder. With a gentle grip, she leaned in to her ear and murmured, "You have potential and valor, perhaps consider putting those skills to use in a more... productive career." Slipping a sleek thin card onto the bar top, black as night and it's words simply read 'Dr. Sokolov of Imperium' along with a number for contacting. "Sleep on it." She sternly stated while regaining her posture and standing upright. With that exchange, she looked over the bartender once more and offered an unenthusiastic nod. Now, departing the Czarna Dama.

Standing on the curbside, Vera accessed her implant's hud. An annoying chime of a ring tone echoed internally, upon answering, the familiar face of her superior generated in the corner of her vision.
"Vera."
Gritting her teeth at his sight, "I'm returning. There was no ample opportunities to gather any specimens."
She responded callously as another holo appeared, dialing another line that was followed up with a chime reading, Your ride will arrive shortly. Estimated time: 2 mins.
▂▂▂____________. . . _____________▂▂▂


interactions Loomis Loomis | mentions SnowStorm42 SnowStorm42 Crocodile Crocodile
 
Fauster.png

[Location: Lower Neo-City, In-transit.]
[Currently: Speaking to Jacob. ]
[Mood: Inspired. ]

There was a bizarre potency in Nigel's eyes as his glare followed the newcomer's movements. His weathered complexion already hinted at a lifetime of experiences, his immaculate proper attire also revealed that he was also quite meticulous about his appearance overall. However, there was something more, something unorthodox about this 'butler'. If Jacob had perceived the reflection of steward through the rear-view mirror, quite the eerie moment would occur; for the briefest of seconds, it appeared as though Nigel's eyes underwent a startling alteration. The aged man's irises mutated into a pitch black, engulfing the entirety of his eyes, before his pupils illuminated into a haunting shade of crimson which also bore an unusual form, they were in the shape of a kite, they twisted and shifted around, as if analyzing Jacob's entirety in mere seconds, for sure this would have left anyone unsettled. But as quickly as it happened, Nigel's eyes reverted to their normal appearance, his focus mundanely returning back in front of him and away from the mirror, perhaps leaving him to question whether this anomalous event was just a figment of his imagination.

This mysterious occrence was probably now overshadowed by Faust, who was being the ever so gracious host by sharing his commodities with his newfound associate. He'd reach for a bottle of champagne, producing it from a nearby cooler by its slender neck that was adorned with glistening beads of condensation caused by the sudden changing of temperature; the champagne bottle emitted a loud 'pop' as he deftly uncorked it with the nudge of his thumb and with practiced precision, Faust poured the sparkling liquid into the two crystal glasses that were already on the coffee table in front of them, the bubbling beverages faintly mirroring the ambient glow of the limousine's interrior lighting.

"In this line of work, one is sure to encounter a multitude of unsavory characters i'm afraid. Adaptation is crucial for achieving success, you see. Well, as for us sharing the same adversary? Once upon a time they were my adversaries, when they kidnapped my employees. But now that they've met their demise, I can resume my regular affairs. Also, do not question your abilities Mr.Hardwhick, you performed with excellence; I am more than confident that either of us could have dealt with that addict single-handedly, albeit with a bit more time required, naturally."

Even though he was confident in this he couldn't deny that the battle had taken somewhat of a physical toll on both himself and Jacob. The array of cuts, bruises, and just general weariness being the unmistakable marks of just how roughed up they were, it was a blessing that there weren't any actual serious injuries, still, Faust was no stranger to getting his hands dirty but there was always a certain appreciation for smoothness and efficiency during these kinds of incidents that he deeply cherished, and Jacob undoubtedly played a crucial role in making that a reality.

"Where to? Now that is an excellent question. Personally, I find myself yearning for a fresh and intriguing experience, and as fortune would have it there is a particular bar nearby that would serve as the perfect option, the 'Czarna Dama' I believe; I've not indulged here so what a better time than now?"

Faust was already aware of the existence of this establishment, knowledge of which being piqued by the rumors surrounding the particular bar, it seemed to defy the expectations typically associated with dive establishments. Unlike the dirtied, unsavory joints that often lurked within the shadows, this business held the promise of a different experience, an unexpected oasis amidst the chaos. Whilst seated at the front of the limousine, Nigel attentively remarked Faust's words with an affirming 'nod' as he start inputting the directions into the vehicle's GPS system before placing his hands back onto the steering wheel and guiding it towards its destination. Throughout the ocassional partaking of champagne, Faust showed a visible interest in Jacob presence as the two made small talk. Being often surrounded by a sea of individuals who seemed to conform to his every whim, someone like Jacob was a refreshing contrast, a breath of fresh air amidst the stifling familiarity of 'yes men', and because of this he felt desire to tell Jacob what was brewing on his mind, maybe he could give him his honest take on his thoughts.

"In this era of heightened powers, one cannot help but understand the apparent increase in acts of terror; It is disheartening to know that such atrocities have become more frequent than ever before. I take it you're aware of the matters that took place in 'Middle Neo-City', just a few hours before our meeting? I regret to say that it wouldn't be surprising if it turns out that numerous innocent civilians may have tragically lost their lives during that awful happening, alas, you cannot fault them for they are helpless against such powerful beings."

Faust paused momentarily as his hand delved into his pocket, retrieving a small object concealed that was tucked away in the confines of the lining. Nonchalantly placing the item on the table, it was revealed to be a basic 9mm cartridge. With the cartridge now resting between them, Faust's voice had a more solemn timbre to it as he weighed in on his intentions, the atmosphere of this pleasant drive now taking a quick turn as he continued to speak.

"Conventional ammunition, like this, even though effective against the typical thug still proves woefully inadequate against the formidable defenses of a capable superpowered being! But what if such insignificant projectiles were to transcend their limitations. For a moment, i'd like you to imagine a scenario where these seemingly inconsequential rounds could garner the capacity to truly harm these exceptional foes or immobolize them. It would, for once, restore a semblance of equilibrium, maybe even bringing peace of mind to some. Mr.Hardwhick, for my next project, I wish to harm... the unharmable..."

[Interactions: SnowStorm42 SnowStorm42 ]


 
"It seems like you got your parties muddled up, the point I was making was the red tape does protect the imperium for long-term reliable and stable profit over short-term gain and risk."

Lilian took a seat. "My apologies, I must have misheard."

"I don't know if that's true. I think it might be for some folks living outside the worst of it, but... I also don't know if it's good to broadcast that type of shit? With where we're at right now I don't imagine a mass panic would make things any cleaner."

Lilian nodded along thoughtfully while she listened to the stranger. He was an insightful guy. She noted the instrument case by his feet, perhaps that fact was due in part to his chosen profession. She had heard that a mind for music made pattern recognition a bit easier, and what was social upheaval if not a carefully composed piece of dissonance?

"I'm not sure if the folks down below forget so easily. Living outside the lap of luxury gives you a weirdly long memory, so far as corpo heroes going rogue or things like that. Something is going to give soon, and I don't know if anyone is going to be on the right side of things when it does."

A wry grin played up at the corners of her mouth, like a large cat that had found a particularly enterprising mouse lurking about their cave. "Exactly correct! The whole city is a bowl, with dams that separate the middle city and the slums, then the upper and middle cities. That bowl is starting to fill, through misplaced ire, righteous indignation, or even callous inaction."Her right hand went up, index finger extended to the sky as she said in a melodic tone, "All it takes is one dam to give for a flood to happen."

Folding both her arms together atop the counter, she rested her head against them, closing her eyes while informing them dreamily, "My simulations indicate it would be of Biblical proportions... As for the Lunar Princess, my understanding is that the weapon has a confirmed fatality in ninety-seven percent of all scenarios. Supposedly it's some sort of massive laser that takes advantage of gravitational lensing. A friend of mine says she saw one of the scenarios play out, and the poor girl was flash-fried by thermal bloom. Tragedy really." Despite her eyes being closed, a plethora of data was being fed to her through various sensory inputs scattered around the bar, and her attention awaited Repemtia's reaction.

She was silent for a moment, relishing the thought, before she opened her eyes again and looked toward the thoughtful musician. "You're quite the insightful one, aren't you? That sort of thing isn't taught easily. You might have a future here in Neo-City yet. You said you were from the Acres? So are my parents," She lied.

Raising her head, she slowly moved her left arm until it was facing the musician and rearranged her biomass so that the heel of her hand was gone. The SSFECLA sent a harmless burst of nonvisible light onto the man's face, mapping it out and running the results through a database. Almost immediately there was a match, one "Tristan Rosenthal," Her right eyebrow quirked up as she said the name aloud. The news report that was attached to the name was quickly parsed and her reading on the man was updated. His sister had died in an incident and presumably, that was what had given him such strong anti-Imperium sentiments; he would be a perfect recruit.

"How would you like a job? No more gig work as a musician, a real Corpo job, with benefits and life insurance. Next time something traumatic happens," She tapped her finger against the part of her skull that would have been cybernetic if she were Tristan, "DocWagon will be there in an instant to patch you right up, might be there in time to save the meaty bits."

Utilizing her power, she uploaded her contact information to his phone, along with depositing a month's salary into his bank account. "Feel free to keep the money, even if you decide you don't want the job. I should be getting back to the owner of the Bar." Without waiting for a response from either of them, she stood up and walked into a crowd of people, searching for Rachel.
PlusUltra PlusUltra Meatball30 Meatball30
 
Last edited:
Eddie tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for permission to leave the bar. He hadn’t had any more to drink after the first drink; wanting to have a clear mind when he was debriefed.

His mind had been drifting off to his next targets when he was done, a crooked judge that regularly accepted bribes in order to rule in Imperiums favor, one of their shell company’s CEO, or a few minor officials.

It’s when he heard the name Abyss that shattered his solitude, sharply turning to the television on the wall. Likely anyone who saw that would just think he was a fan or something but he looked regardless

“The vigilante and serial killer, known as Abyss to the public; has been captured following his attempted assasination and killing of several Imperium peace officers.”

Eddie stared at the footage of a man wearing a torn copy of his uniform, few would be able to distinguish the difference unless they had seen him up close. The man looked nothing like him, his neon green eyes included. This could mean two things: either the knights had gotten a fall guy to act as him, or Imperium wanted the public to think he was captured.

Eddie put his hand to his earpiece “Was this you guys?” Eddie whispered, getting an immediate response
“No, we planted a body with your uniform, looks like Imperium doesn’t want to deal with a martyr. Just stay for thirty more minutes and get to the limo.”
 
35c5f647bffdcd17ed80f8af684ea373.png


JACOB HARDWHICK
╬════════════════════════════════════╬
Mood: Intrigued

Location: Slums, in a Limo, Out front of Czarna Dama
╚══════════════╝
As the two men got situated in the back, Jacob took one more look at his surroundings, taking in the cars features and perks, but also catching the driver's eyes once more in the rearview mirror. There was a coldness to the glare he was giving Jacob, that also showed a loyalty to Faust. It felt as if the older gentleman would personally wage war on Jacob in service of Faust, and although Jacob didn't get the best look, the man's eyes changed ever so briefly, but without accelerated vision active, the eyes changed back just as quick, leaving Jacob to ponder what the older driver even was. Jacob was not deterred though. In the age of supers, and especially with years of experience, he wasn't unaccustomed to the strange and sometimes questionable. Some supers had some frightening abilities that gave a more demon like feeling, and with the rise of technology, well, for all Jacob knew the driver was another of Faust's weapons. Best to leave it be as the car began rolling. He was a guest after all and prying would be rude.

Jacob accepted the champagne from Faust with a not. "Thank you" Jacob said before taking a small sip of the bubbly elixir, the gold liquid having an even more rich taste after the work they had just put in going into combat. The taste was good enough for Jacob to take another, bigger sip, before turning his attention back to Faust and listening to his response. "You give me too much praise. Whatever substance he was hopped on...Maybe you're right that we could've handled him individually but the damage would be way more severe to us" Jacob started. He admired that Faust seemed to put business at the forefront. The beast that appeared back in the boiler room was a calm, sophisticated, and tactical businessman now. Jacob had to admire it, given this city seemed to produce mindless sheep in suits in most other higher end businesses. Jacob was reminded of the fight suddenly, when his stomach burn decided to give a very specific sting, belonging to that of the burn the Tier 5 left. Jacob took another sip of his glass, in hopes of diminishing at least some of the pain his body felt, between all it's cuts, aches, and bruises. The two men looked as if they had left a back alley brawl.

The Czarna Dama's mention caught the rebel leader's attention, his head turning back to Faust. "If you want a fresh and intriguing experience I can't recommend that bar enough. I've only been there a handful of times, if even, but some of my clients, associates and friends frequent there. It's definitely got an...atmosphere. The bar tender can be a nut, but she does good by her customers and the liquor is usually good" Jacob said, practically pitching for the bar. It was a good idea as, whether crowded or not, the bar was known for discretion. Jacob's rebel's often name dropped the bar, set meetings there, or planned missions. Apparently it was very friendly to the rich and Slum alike, and a good melting pot. Jacob, again, had only been a few times for tactical meetings. The bartender was usually courteous, chatted, but never pried. She was definitely a moody one though, as one time she was relaxed and professional, and the other times Jacob had been there, she was sloppy, blunt, or left with a rebel associate, leaving her bartender's to man the bar while she did who knows what with his associates. It definitely would give Faust an interesting time.
As the two continued to converse, the topic shifted to state of terror the city was in. Jacob held on to each of Faust's words, definitely interested in knowing where the gentleman stood, and it seemed that while there was neutrality, there was also an awareness of the chaos, terror, and crime that came with super powered beings. Jacob nodded.
"I did receive a live feed of the incident. Terrible stuff. Be it the gangs or Imperium's hero and mercenaries, there was a lot of chaos, and a lot of unspoken casualties that the news refused to address. " Jacob responded, folding his arms now and nodding.

Faust's demeanor suddenly changed as he pulled out a very simple bullet, for a very simple gun, and Jacob's attention was fully locked in and hooked. An opportunity seemed to be arising, as Faust then gave seemingly rhetorical questions to Jacob in reference to the bullet. Following Faust's instructions as he painted a picture, Jacob did imagine if normal rounds could harm the Supers. For sure, his first thought was citizens being able to stand up to Supers who abused their power, but of course his mind also pictured the resistance movement mowing down even the strongest of Imperium's known heroes. The thought also shifted to the bullet being used against Jacob, immobilizing him, leaving him unable to lead with power. The thoughts were...frightening. But intriguing to Jacob.

"I wish to harm... the unharmable..."

Jacob took another sip, finishing his champagne. There was a brief pause and silence after Faust uttered those words, as Jacob pondered a bit longer. "This city. It's divided for sure. There is masked violence from Imperium, whether people want to admit it or not. The casualties they leave behind are swept under the rug with payouts and other more gruesome tactics. At the same time the gangs of the city and any super powered beings on their side..as we saw..cause turmoil and violence. A collision of these entities always leaves nothing but death...So the common denominator seems to be powers"

Jacob looked Faust in the eyes, also matching the same serious air as he was presented with. "If you could eradicate that. Not only would it even the playing field for even basic citizens. It could change everything.." Jacob said. At that moment the limousine had reached the Czarna Dama, which had some patrons walking out, the inside, from a quick glance, bustling. "What if I told you..Mr. Faust..that I could have a whole market of people in need of this type of ammunition? If you could craft it I could easily provide a lot of potential clients" Jacob asked. Placing the glass in it's respective holder, opening the door, stepping out of the car, and throwing on his coat, he exited the vehicle but looked back in. "I think we should discuss inside, over a drink. I'd like to hear more for sure" Jacob said, hoping the gentleman would follow through with their planned drinking.

Jacob gave one more nod to the driver, Nigel, before closing the door of the limousine. The rebel adjusted his jacket, concealing the holes in his sweater, and quickly wiping any more debris off of himself. He approached the door of the Czarna Dama, hopefully with Faust in tow. One more patron walked out as Jacob approached the door, causing Jacob to shift to the side, not wanting to bump into her. She had a cold demeanor, and lots of cybernetics. She seemed like a corporate type, and for the life of Jacob he could've sworn she looked familiar but he couldn't place his finger from where. It was less so her actual appearance but something about her aura, was giving Jacob a certain feeling, however there were only blanks as to who she could be. "Sorry" Jacob said for almost bumping into the former bar patron. He gave her one more look over, still not shaking the familiarity, before turning his attention back to the door of Czarna Dama.

Interaction: SidTheSkid SidTheSkid Mentions: Loxely Loxely
 
Fauster.png

[Location: Czarna Dama. ]
[Currently: At the Bar. ]
[Mood: Pleased. ]

As Jacob expressed his support for the idea, an invigorating excitement surged through Faust's veins whereas his mind celebrated with triumph, "Excellent... Excellent!". Jacob's claim to have a network of individuals hungry for this sort of ammunition and weaponry only furthered Faust's entrepreneurial spirit. A subtle grin caressed his cheeks as he envisioned the many possibilities that lay before him; primarily the prospect of this being a lucrative business venture that could have him seizing the opportunity to fulfill a demand previously unrecognized, in short, there was a lot of money to be made from this and he wasn't going to let this chance of his slip away.

Nigel's voice broke the silence, announcing their arrival with a touch of formality, "We've arrived, gentlemen." Faust's gaze swept out of the window after hearing Nigel's announcement, he caught sight of the impressive two-story complex adorned with a vibrant neon sign that read "Czarna Dama." The name twinkled in glowing lights, like a canvas stars brightening up the night sky. Faust took a final sip of his champagne and admired the liquid's tantalizing taste lingering on his palate before delicately placing the glass back onto the table. "Let us see if this establishment truly lives up to its reputation," Faust remarked, his voice being steep with anticipation. With a satisfied look still marking his expression, Faust adjusted his impeccably tailored suit jacket, ensuring every inch of it was in place and that it was aligned appropriately with his red slacks; the arms dealer's presence demonstrated a sweeping energy of confidence as he stepped out of the limousine with a prideful stride.

Being relatively perceptive of his surroundings, Faust noticed the near collision between Jacob and the woman who emerged from the bar; fortunately this mishap was avoided with a side-step from his associate, sparing them both from an awkward encounter. Faust was able to see that prosthetic neck and eye of hers that added some uniqueness to her appearance. He wasn't actually sure of her identity, but he could tell by the way she was dressed there was a certain professionalism emanating from her, suggesting she might be a business woman of significance, perhaps a corporate agent? Nevertheless, Faust wasn't too committed on figuring it out, his current focus was on finalizing his business dealings with Jacob. "Come now Jacob, there is much to discuss," he urged, his reminding tone becoming more inviting and filled with anticipation as he continued. "I'll foot the bill. You needn't worry about taking care of our drinks; the price is of little concern to me, so feel free to drink, drink to your heart's content even!" Displaying a bit of camaraderie, Faust deliberately swung his arm around Jacob's broad shoulder, and guided him through the entrance of Czarna Dama, drawn by the clinking of glasses, the rowdy humdrum of conversations, and the vibrant music that was spilling out into the streets.

As they crossed the threshold after opening the front door, Faust's keen eyes were quick to absorb the diverse scenery that unfolded before them. The bottom floor was divided into several distinct sections, each with its own allure and character. One of these sections was wholely dedicated to the usual bar games, the clatter of billiard balls and the sharp thud of darts hitting their target filled the space. The competitive atmosphere drew the attention of those seeking a momentary respite from the outside world. Moving into the main section, Faust vision swept across the arrangement of tables centered in the dining space and the several booths lining the walls. Each seating area held the promise of interesting conversations and memorable moments, as patrons engaged in loud discussions or laughter-filled exchanges with their friends.

His gaze eventually settled on the bar itself, the focal point of the establishment. The counter, composed in shades of gray and white, exuded an understated elegance with its design and marbled top. Illuminated by LED lights, the shelves showcased a collection of alcohols, each bottle stood as a work of art in its own right, their labels adorned with intricate designs and fonts, the transparency in their glass allowed a fine glimpse into the liquid treasures held within. With a determined stride, Faust traversed the distance to the bar, his mind set on the prospect of finding something here that'll satisfy his thirst. He claimed a seat on one of the plush, cushioned white stools that stood sentinel in front of the polished counter. As Faust sat at the bar awaiting for Jacob's arrival, he took stock of the eclectic mix of patrons, each one presenting an unforetold story shrouded in mystery.

[Interactions: SnowStorm42 SnowStorm42 | Mentions: Loxely Loxely ]


 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top