[Mean Streets, Cruel Towers]The Milk Run

Shrei


"Catch~!" She skids the duffle bag along the floor towards Arte with a faint squealing noise, before returning to the security room to grab another bigger one.


"Ah, ew, ewww sorry, ah Sorry, ew, Sorry," she mutters as she tries to manhandle Arc's body into the bag with as much dignity as she can.


She observes the smears of blood on the fingers of her gauntlets before wiping them off on his trousers like a cat kneading a blanket. She offers a meagre prayer to him, before zipping him up in in his makeshift coffin of sort.


"Sweet Shining Virdina, you're a heavy bugger," she kerfuffles him over a shoulder fireman style and hauls him out the fire escape window with an unceremonious flumph.
 
Arte


He's waiting for an ominous creak to follow Shrei and Arc's passage, but as soon as Igo limps in, irate and still armed, Arte grabs the duffle and hauls ass out the window.
 
Loki disengages and staggers out after you.


"Doors sealed, alarms disabled, and I removed the safety limiters from the guardian daemon - if anyone tries to repair the system, it's gonna hurt 'em."


Down on street level you can hear the sirens of approaching armed response vans.
 
Ritz


Watching the officers limp about and scream for backup had gotten less entertaining and her personal signal to get a move on just hit her. The gun toting wagons of the local precinct were on their way and it was time to get a move on. Ritz taps her ear to speak to her comrades.


"More lawmen on their way, might be best to get a move on so I'm disengaging and grabbing the van. Shrei can drive if she wants to, I'll setup in the rear and get my gun locked down. We've got five minutes at most."


In a practiced manner, she unhooks her rifle and hauls it up. Moving quickly, she starts down the lengthy fire escape to the alley and van below.
 
Igo Tyrell


Hopping like some diseased rabbit down the final rungs of the ladder, Igo staggers towards the van, scanning all about as he made a break for it. His pistol was in hand, level with his eyeline as he moved.
 
Shrei


She is one of the last out of the building, making sure everyone else has been seen to before leaving.


The bag containing what's left of Arc is slung over her shoulder once more, and she proceeds to take the step ladders as more of a.... suggestion.


Feet forgoing the rungs in favour of kidding down either side, and leaping across the flats at a pace or two.


Ground level sees her open the back of the van, chirp, "Happy Birthday! Here, have a Present!" Before dumping said bag among everything and everyone else.


"Seatbeeeeeelts~" as she takes the drivers chair, the knuckles of her augs mechanically peeling back to reveal her thinly gloved fingers, faint patterns carrying the neural pathways pulsing gently in the odd biofabric.
 
You return to the warehouse with remarkably little trouble - looks like Jack picked the location carefully - the nearest precinct house was in the opposite direction. Loki disables traffic obervers on the way to ensure a smooth escape.


Now there's nothing for it but to wait for Jack to arrive with your payment.
 
Igo Tyrell


Breath in. Breath out.


Breath in. Breath out.


Breath in. Breath out.


There was little conversation between Igo and the others on the ride, less so once they had arrived at the hideout. The adrenaline from the heist was wearing off, as had the numbing agents in the biogel, and what had already been a painful ache in his thigh was now a roaring inferno of burning agony.


His face is ashen, and a cold sweat beads the pale face. The painkillers rest in Igo's hand, shaken in lots of three. They remain unopened.


I just want to get paid, go home, swallow most of this bottle, and feed Henrietta. Maybe there's some reruns of Kain Abbey on the box, let me numb my mind along with my body.


"Jack best be getting here soon," he grumbles, punctuating his sentence with a trio of rattles.
 
Shrei


The feline woman is back to doing her stretches and flexes as like before the mission started. She has tried her best to cheer up Igo several times and failed miserably to do so.


Now she simply looks bored.
 
Jack rumbles in with an armoured van.


"Loki called me." His eyes narrow at the young hacker. "Somehow. Anyway, brought your payment and a doctor..."


He opens the door of the truck to introduce you to Sawbones.


@Action Replay
 
Igo Tyrell


"Jack, Jack, Jack," growls Igo, shaking his head with each intonation. "You sent us up with bad one. Arc. Had to black bag the son of a bitch, especially since he turned on us after screwing the run royally,"


He gestures to the leaking duffel bag with the mans remains.


"We were nice enough to bring him back with us, so there's nothing for a spook to use. Still, two k a head, and while his has several rounds in it, I think it's fair you divvy his share up between the rest of us."


"That said, we have a couple of other interesting items up for grabs, Arc's augs included, if you're willing to pay for them,"
 
"Sawbones." Inclining his head, his gaze flitted about the room. "I have a good idea by looking, but for whom all is the house call? If the outpatients are out in force, make a line."


Punctuating the statement, he gave a bird like hop over the remains of the day towards the pale speaker. Beneath the plague doctor's mask, his eyes flicked from the pills to wounds. It was a bit late for a house call, but cash was king. Bad runs usually meant he got to meet the extended royal family.


"Leg, and torso. Anywhere else I'm missing?" Opening his bag, Sawbones got straight to work.


[dice]834[/dice]


[dice]835[/dice]
 
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"Well, shit." Jack says, smoothing back his hair. "But yeah, at least you all get his share, eh?"


He starts passing out credit chips.


"You mind taking a look at the stiff when you finish with him, Sawbones?"
 
Igo Tyrell


"Just me. Leg's got an exit wound the size of trolls thumb, but I stuffed it full of biogel," hissed Igo, clenching his teeth as the doctor began his ministrations to the limb. "Chest is fine, nothing a fistful of painkillers and a lie down won't fix,"


"Jack, you just wanted the spike, right?" he managed through the examination, shaking the painkillers in lots of three.
 
Jack nods, leaning against the van.


"Just the spike. But if you need to find a buyer for anything else I'll only ask ten percent..."

Severe bruising above the right hip, cracked rib. It'd be almost no effort to fix that with magic.


The leg is a worse job - looks like the bullet ricocheted off the bone, leading to a minor fracture. He's lucky, because while that blew out a chunk of muscle it also kept it off the femoral artery. He'll need a transplant or the expensive gel package.
 
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Igo Tyrell


Igo nods in return.


"We got a bunch of hot firearms in need of a scrub down, a mem chip we found in the vault, and whatever the hell is inside and still workable in the holy asshole over there,"
 
A perfunctory nod to Jack, Sawbones began wrapping it up. He'd brought through worse cases. This would be one less stiff for him to work with.


"All done. Don't try any marathons for the immediate future." Tossing a small sucker into Igo's lap, he turned back to the elephant in the room.


Peeling back the zipper, this was the most Swiss elephant he had ever seen. Poking through the cheese, he was hard pressed to find much left worth anything. Augs aside, they didn't do things by half measures. Reaching into something with the consistency of fondue, it took him awhile to get to what he wanted.


"Blessed are the cheesemakers." Muttering under his breath, Sawbones carefully set to salvage.
 
"How'd he die? Specifics because I'd like to hear it. I want to know what not to do."


Ritz peers in over the new sawbones' work. He was doing stuff and while she accepted the words of Igo at face value, she'd like to know exactly why he died. Too often fixers like her had to deal with inward betrayal for the sake of shares. He could have easily been burnt out by some sort of hidden skill that her fellows hadn't chosen to reveal.


Quietly she withdraws an actual analog notebook and begins writing down her findings of the day. Little hand written bios of her fellows and of course and lengthy entry on Jack. Her mind liked to shift around up and down, it was nice having a first impression book for when she began to think differently of someone.
 
Igo Tyrell


There's a snort from Igo, and he shakes his head.


"Some sort of aug inside of him freaked out, and he started ripping people's heads off. When he ran out of enemies, he turned towards us. Shrei gave him a knock, he stepped in front of an auto-turret, he immediately was given a blessing,"


"This was, of course, after he had activated the alarms almost as soon as we entered the building, either through blind ignorance or some sort of willful sabotage attempt. So yeah, if you wanna know what not to do, don't be a fuckin' idiot and you should be fine," growls Igo, starting to test his leg.


It still burns, but it was slower, subtler than before. Still in need of a heavy painkiller, but no longer the screaming klaxon of his body in agony.
 
Jack shrugs.


"Well, if that's all for now... I'll be in touch about the goods. I suggest you find a communal safehouse to stash 'em."

Shot to death. The augs, though... they're practically part of him. No carrier threads; they've integrated with his nervous system directly.
 
"I believe it. You've made this guy into a modern art masterpiece." Filling up the gaps in conversation, the squelching sounds of yielding flesh started to echo about the warehouse. Upon reaching the prize, a whistle escaped turning into a low piping from the mask. "That's a new one."


Tilting Arc's head, Sawbones pulled a flap of muscle tissue away for a better view. Fusion wasn't something he had quite ever seen before. Memory searching for any similar cases on record turned up null. What the hell was this guy eating?


"Unfortunately, you won't be getting the augs as you pictured them. No threads to speak of. Closest comparison is that they've become a part of the guy. Might be able to get the core parts with enough time."
 
Jack freezes.


"They what?"


He strides over and stares, unflinching, at the torn meat and exposed metal - looks like brass. His hand flies to his earpiece.


"I'll pay you 10k right now if you can get those out and into a sterile case I'm calling in."
 
"Him," Jack says, "to pay for extraction. If you can keep your shit together long enough I might be able to sell the augs themselves for over a million."
 
Igo Tyrell


...a million credits. A million credits. A million credits.


...


"...consider my shit together Jack," replied Igo flatly, his voice not betraying the sudden spike of glee inside of him. It even managed to dampen the ache in his thigh.
 
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