Futuristic NCQuest: Mecha flavored action, Story

[Viper Actual]

"Fuck yes! Why didn't I think of that!?"

Peyton grunted and shrugged before crossing her arms, watching the mushroom cloud evaporate into the air. She remained silent as Cammy rambled on about forgetting to get fuel for the grill and how she was off her game. Shrugging once more, Peyton glanced briefly at the house before looking back at Cammy. "Regardless of why you did what you did I'm glad I had you around to watch my six."

"I'll be honest; at first glance I had my doubts but now I'm glad it was you who went on the mission with me." Peyton chuckled. "Those bandits would never have been ready for the amount of shock & awe you brought down on them."

Jennifer then placed her hands in her pockets and nodded towards the grill. "As for showing up, well, I had to see what all the fuss was about, right?"

 

[Aldur]

Episode 2

Hadrian Fosse​

​

Time had gone flying this particular evening. In fact, it tends to do it every evening when Hadrian's free. His backyard becomes herald to a mesmerizing view at night. The house he moved into stood higher on the hill and looked down the ones below and catching a glimpse of the city in its neon-soaked splendor. Hadrian had been in his backyard since before the sunset, lazing away next to a third glass of White Russian, listening to his relaxation playlist. He absorbed the beautiful vista from behind a pair of orange tinted round rimmed sunglasses. He wore them partly because he didn't want to wear his eye-patch outside of his job and because the orange tint enhanced the experience exponentially.

He reached for the glass and brought it in for another sip before noticing the current song fading out, making way for the favorite part of the playlist. He put the glass back down, licking down the sweetened cream from his mustache and closing his eyes. He went for a deep breathe in of the cool night air which he let out through a wide grin. Hadrian procured a cigar box from beside his chaise longue and took a cherry flavored cigar out. Shortly after, he set it alight with his engraved lighter. He huffed and puffed, letting a smoke screen engulf the city and blurring the line between an ethereal, idealized view of the city and reality.

Life was, undoubtedly, on-par with paradise in that very moment. Time slowed to a crawl and it dissolved into Hadrian's drink. He was drinking liquid weekend on a Tuesday night. He sunk back into his chair, drowning out the silence with honeyed, ancient tunes.

Naturally, the silence fought back. It was in the form of less ancient tunes. Very recent ones, in fact. His moment of blurry lines and liquid weekend deserted him and the painful reminder of Tuesday soured his drink and overpowered his playlist. Baffled, Hadrian rose back up and brought down his sunglasses down, searching for the source of this awful disturbance. Hadrian scanned the neighborhood and zeroed out on one of the houses.

A party, huh? he thought. On his special night? How disheartening. He paused for a moment, then rose from his chair. He took a brief trip back inside his house. Hadrian then returned with a pair of binoculars and performed reconnaissance. A bit of a look here, a bit of a look there and... Linkers. Hadrian put the binoculars down and threw them on his chaise longue, gulped down his remaining drink and went back inside.

Once inside Hadrian put on one of his nice Cuban shirts on and some more presentable pants than his previous shorts and looked for a pair of actual shoes, not some flip flops. He'd keep the shades, even though it's night time. Before leaving he rolled up his sleeves and packed up some "modular" liquor. He had recently started mixing his own drinks and figured this might be a nice test of his skills. Cigar in between his lips, Hadrian went out.

A brief walk later and Hadrian found himself at the culprit's front door. He noticed the truck in the driveway back when he scouted out the place. He wondered about the make and the model, but he didn't mean to pry like another nosy invitee from earlier. He knocked and the door and assumed a grumpy neighbor pose with crossed arms and passive-aggressive frown. He puffed once and switched the cigar from the right corner to his left corner of the mouth.

Interactions: AnonyMouse
Mentions: SkyHawk MK IV

 

[YsFanatic]

Episode 2
While Adam responded to people greeting him, he didn't worry about getting involved in small talk just yet as he was a little preoccupied reading a manual. Despite having put in for a rush order for a video game console from the local store, paying a good chunk of extra cash in the process, it had shown up not even five mintues before the party was supposed to start. Though he supposed that it didn't help that he had amended the order to include extra controllers. The time it took to unpack the system from its bulky packaging and put it into the grey backpack that was now hanging from the back of his wheelchair mean that he had been a little later than planned, but still earlier than most.

Normally he would have just plugged in a console without even bothering with the manual, but this one was a bit different. It was a new system that was capable of playing games from multiple different consoles, if you purchased the correct license keys, and that was the part he had wanted to read up on to make sure he didn't screw it up. The whole thing was rather expensive, but being able to play just about anything was a huge thing for someone in his situation. After all, cable management was a bitch when you couldn't just squeeze behind a TV on a whim, so just having one device sitting right under the TV itself was ideal.

Finished with the reading, Adam looked up just in time to spot Cammy walk outside to the grill, causing him to frown. While it looked like she had put in some effort in keeping floor space clear, there was still enough furniture and other items to make navigation with a wheelchair a pain with this many people around. Since this was a party, asking for forgiveness rather than permission would be the way to go. At least he hoped so. Carefully wheeling himself over to the entertainment stand under the TV, he locked the brakes before pulling the backpack around in front of him. Pulling out the console and its cables and got to work setting it up. Thankfully it supported a wide range of hookups so there was no problem connecting it to the TV. However, there was the small issue of the power outlet being behind the stand where he was not able to reach it.

"I don't suppose anyone could give me a hand for a moment?" Adam held up the end of the console's power cord, hopefully making his problem rather obvious.

When he heard the knock on the door, the wheelchair bound Linker raised a surprised eyebrow as he looked back at the entrance to the house. He had thought the party was only for their little group of rookies, was he wrong?

 

[AnonyMouse]

"You're well-dressed for someone who just came on a whim," Cammy commented. "Classy. I dig it." It was far classier than Cammy's own attire, which was little more than a miniskirt over some leggings and an unzipped hoodie over a loose tanktop. She appeared to have applied some kind of gel to her short blue hair and swooped it up into spikes, but even that looked rather half-assed, even by Cammy's lax standards.

"Anyway, there ain't much fuss yet," Cammy said, taking a step back from the grill. "I invited, like, everybody, but only you people showed up. You know the ones."

Come to think of it, she had basically invited the linkers and their maintenance crews. Considering they'd just gotten back from a mission, the maintenance crews weren't exactly free tonight. Maybe a few irresponsible ones would show up, or the ones whose assigned NCs weren't too badly damaged or worn. Either way, it seemed unlikely the party would have the turnout she hoped for. In hindsight, maybe she should've invited the handlers. Halliwell already said she couldn't make it, but Cammy hadn't gotten to the others... most of whom would probably have said the same thing, too.

As this realization dawned on her, the house AI interrupted her train of thought with its dull, monotone voice. "Miss Azata, a suspicious gentleman is at the main entrance, requesting entry. Shall I allow him in?"

"Suspicious, eh?" Cammy said and then muttered under her breath, "the talking toaster is profiling people now. Gimme a break." Then, in a voice the machine could actually hear, "I'm coming, dammit. Party could use a few more sausages, suspicious or otherwise. Don't wanna see it turn into fuckin' Taco Tuesday in this place. No offense, Jenny."

She clapped Peyton on the shoulder before heading inside. Passing through the living room, she spied Adam trying to connect some sort of fancy new gaming console to her television. "Nice," Cammy commented as she crossed the room and went to the front door. She briefly considered stopping by the garage to grab her shotgun, but the night was still young. And surely this 'suspicious gentleman' wasn't that suspicious. Probably just another guest or maybe a neighbor asking them to tone it down.

Cammy snatched the door open. Because, when your home is full of military-trained mecha warriors, you don't peek or look through the peephole. YOLO. What greeted her was a middle-aged man. Sunglasses after dark. Cigar in his mouth. A shirt that screamed 'every day is a holiday, bud.'

Cammy's eyes quickly drank him in before she said, "okay, whose dad is this? Let me guess, Nico's grounded?" She spoke too soon... as usual. She barely finished the question before noticing the liquor bottles in his possession. "Ohhh, nevermind, I see." She laughed. "You got hookers and coke in there, too, gramps?"

 

[Aldur]

Episode 2

Hadrian Fosse​

​

The sound of Cammy's footsteps coming up to the door gave Hadrian a moment of clarity. Enough to question his actions. Why was he still at the door? Just to suffer? Make others suffer through his mere presence? Clarity, like time, is fleeting and the door opened before he could answer. Facing him was a lightweight, female Linker. Blue haired and inked. Rebellious. What came after wasn't very shocking after the initial inspection. Nico was definitely grounded. He once again switched the position of his cigar, putting forth another puff.

"No. I'd call, but ain't no point since you're here already." Cigar switched again. Hadrian did not take prisoners, not figuratively. "Now, there's two ways this'll end. You let me mix drinks... inside." He points towards the house. "Or I tip the local blues about some noisy neighbors in the area." Hadrian grabbed the now half-spent cigar with his left hand and blew some smoke to his left side. "Besides, you owe me since you ruined my Tuesday night." He extended his right hand forward and continued. "Hadrian Fosse, Linker."

Interactions: AnonyMouse
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[Tanya Degurechaff]

Episode 2
The party was going well, or at least he thought so. He'd never really been to any parties, so he couldn't measure it in anything besides a lack of fighting. Niko hadn’t been too intrusive on others already in conversation, and was more focused on assisting with any setup that had to be done for everyone to enjoy themselves. He felt most useful with simple tasks like that, and it seemed someone else would be requiring his assistance for the moment. Walking over to the source of the request, he noted the man was in a wheelchair before anything else. Then his eyes were drawn to his raised hand, and Niko put two and two together.

“Trying to plug it up, I take it? I’ll get it for you.” Niko extended his hand with a smile, not wanting to come off as rudely snatching the cord away. If he was handed the cable, he would carefully check behind the stand and plug it into any free sockets. If there were no free sockets however, he’d have to ask about it. If not handed the cable… He’d just be confused as to what the issue was. He didn't pay much attention to the conversation happening at the door as it wasn't his business, and he was in the middle of something himself.

YsFanatic

 

[AnonyMouse]

Cammy's brows rose slightly as the man spoke. Her hands shifted to her hips, stance squared. It was one of those looks that seemed to say, 'oh, reeeeeally?' Telling her something could only end one of two ways wasn't the best way to start a conversation. Doing so while standing on her property definitely wasn't a good idea, either. And tossing in the 'threat' of police intervention certainly wasn't wise.

The most the police would do was tell her to quiet it down, if they showed up at all. If she didn't, they might shut the party down or slap her with a citation. But she'd just made 5 million dollars today, so who gives a damn about a small fine for noise pollution or disturbing the peace or whatever these Baltimorean dickwads call having a good time. If anything, she should turn it up, as retribution for what they did to her truck.

All of this slowly churned around inside Cammy's head. She was a millisecond away from letting this guy in when the mental boiling pot bubbled over. Her visage shifted from 'I don't give a fuck' to 'fuck you' lightning quick. She folded her arms and casually leaned on the doorway, blocking entry. Well, blocking it as much as her 5'2 frame could. 90 pounds of fury stood between him and any hopes of being invited inside.

"So, we're neighbors?" she said, sweet as can be, as if this was somehow more important than him being a fellow linker. "Which house is yours? We'll have the next one at your place and I'll show up at your doorstep and threaten to shut your shit down if you don't let me in to mix some fucking drinks. You're a real piece of work, pal."

By this point, she was definitely not sweet anymore.

She whipped out her cellphone and slapped it into his offered hand. "Call 'em. I'll wait."

 

[SkyHawk MK IV]

Episode 2: Electric Boogaloo
The commotion at the door peaked Hazel's interest, especially the part about a suspicious person announced by the house's AI. It wouldn't kill to take a look, would it? Standing up with drink in hand, Hazel made her way past the living room and towards the front door, being pleasantly surprised by Camille unloading what pent up anger that she had stored in at the man in doorway. Even more surprising was the fact that he seemed to be taking it well judging by his facial expressions. Peeking a bit more over Camille's shoulder, Hazel saw the booze the man was carrying, which made the situation more confusing that it already was. The hell was this guy? She had heard a few words clearly when getting closer 'Linker' was the most interesting one.

Looking over the newcomer, Hazel commented "You pulling guys out of retirement Camille?" smiling at the small quip "Heard you said you were a linker, who gave you the address for this place?" The question obviously directly at the man. She leaned against the wall, behind Camille but was still able to see the man in the doorway. Hazel was already thinking about which genius didn't tell them about the supposed 'Linker' who looked like one of those stereotypical washed up business or cop types. This gave her an idea. "I'll call Sarah, might be a tad late but she should be awake still, give us some answers about this gentlemen in the door." Hazel took out her phone and began to dial the necessary numbers.

 

[Aldur]

Episode 2

Hadrian Fosse​

​

This pair of shades was Hadrian's favorite. The reflective lens always made for some interesting interactions. Attempted eye contact from people always required them to look into not one, but two mirrors. By the end of the woman's rant, Hadrian found himself holding her phone and taunted. He lost no time and nodded towards his home, while his relaxed fingers recited a poem well known to him. He planted the cigar back in his mouth again. It was a miracle the fire alarm hadn't gone off already, but he took it as a sign.

"Down the street. Top of the hill. Can't miss it." The words came out of his mouth like bullets out of a machine gun, though it was a controlled burst, rather than a blind spray. Calmly, he put the phone to his ear and waited. By that time, another woman had made her way towards the entrance with questions of her own. Questions that would have to wait, as made clear by Hadrian's raised index finger. He put his free hand on his hip and let the conversation be overtaken by the buzz of music coming from inside of the house. It wasn't the type of music Hadrian would make a habit out of listening to, but he supposed taste was subjective. That and he'd rather not debate classics with perturbed individuals.

"Hello?" the phone clicked and a faint voice replied to Hadrian in a monotone manner, but afterwards nothing concrete could be comprehended. "Yup." he continued. "Mhm..."

"Yeah, I'd like to order 2 large pepperoni pizzas with extra cheese, a prosciutto calzone with black olive rings and extra sauce..." Hadrian took the cigar out of his mouth and faced Cammy again. "You girls want anything? It's on me."

Interactions: AnonyMouse SkyHawk MK IV
Mentions: N/A

 

[Windsock]

Episode 2: Azata's Kitchen
As the giraffe-hybrid played with his own deck of cards, the woman allowed herself to express a little bit of surprise, but was more focused on his questions and what else he said. It was evidently true in that case that the two weren't exactly on regular speaking terms, which about caused the minor predicament she was to soon find herself in. After thinking on it further, aided by his continued questioning on a reason why, she decided to forget about her own little plan and let Azata figure her shit out on her own. Leaving everything she found where she found it, she started thinking.

It would be rude to just ignore the question; but by the look on her face she wasn't expecting something to be put so bluntly, and was having some kind of a problem formulating a proper response. After her cylinders fired for a few moments on the innocent inquiry, she admitted something somewhat interesting. "Actually. . . She . . . doesn't remind me of myself at all..."

After having some difficulty with such a basic question that anyone would ask a mentor of their student, she was obviously still a little confused, as if she was ruminating on her own reasons. Another period where her engine ran itself to the ground, an offer of something more concrete was made when she recovered. "Call it a ... bet.", she admitted, leaning back on the counter. "I didn't have anybody look out for me when I was new either... I guess that's another half of it.", evidently recovering her mental track fully, back to normal after a moment of strangeness.

"How about you, big guy? Why are you a Linker? Just here to pick up hoes?"

Interaction: Malphaestus ​

 

[Malphaestus]

Episode 2: Azata's KitchenFREDRICH-ALEXANDER VON STREUBEN
To some's surprise, he also responds to "Tower-Upright."

He continued to shuffle the deck as he listened in on her response, flicking and tucking every other card in an increasing variety of fashions in a moderately impressive display of dexterity. Whilst he was initially surprised by her answers, the further she went on, the further he felt himself validated. If it's a bet, and if the reason for her mentoring is predominantly because she 'didn't have anybody looking out for her,' then familiarity is the only reasonable explanation for her actions. Ritualistically finishing his inquiry by performing a nice and simple blackjack shuffle, gently pushing the halves together, and opening himself up for Rosa's own prodding.

It hadn't escaped him that, whilst he had focused on the cards throughout the entirety of their exchange, the nuance of her behaviour were made visible through his own senses. The activity all around him throughout the house also tingled along his neck; big flame out on the grill, Adam and Nico fiddling with the TV, Hazel and Azata moving out to the door... Stranger on the porch. Even so, Rosa's unnatural pause, her pondering, it all added up at the same time. She seemed a rather instinctual person, feeling the waves and speaking from the heart. Though there were likely to be exceptions. He continued thinking, but this time about himself, where he fit into the spectrum; he was a thoughtful individual, but whenever he entered the Emperor he became something else. It had initially spooked him, and even now made him a bit uncomfortable in how sometimes he had no control over himself, but before he could ponder further she fired off her own verbal projectile.

He froze for a moment, stared at his cards: they were facedown.

Without any 'prophetic' guidelines to pursue, he was forced to adopt his perceived version of Rosa's own speaking method into his own, doing so with immense awareness, conscious of every word uttered. Truthfully, the story was barely interesting, he thought as he resumed shuffling again in tandem with his own thinking. "Ferrum-Mortis, First-Rate, worked in New Europe when I grew up." He began, only continuing to mention a large array of first-rate Linkers, excluding the local hero Dreadnought in-so-doing. "Panzer-Athena, Moroi, Waverider, we all know them." He said as he quieted, implying an abrupt end to his own reasons.

Though he would not end there, instead only proceeding to be all the more absurd as he continued in his monotonous tempo, slow and plodding, unaware of himself. "To rule over all of them is what I want," his otherwise serious and professional persona breached by his childish dreaming, though he delivered it with a strange sense of confidence and assurity making anyone question whether his insanity was somehow sane in some fashion. As if something emerged and disappeared just as quickly. "If they are kings and queens of the battlefield, then I will become an emperor," he spoke with a modicum of artistic flaire, a product of his own artsy interests, more interestingly halting his otherwise unimpeded shuffling as he said it.

"So I impulsively applied for the test, got accepted, and now I'm here." It had been easy, surprisingly. The mental torture of some had not been so for him, he had baggage and a background to support him through difficulty, and a mind so rational that even pain became a number, at least when he had 'control.' No skill was better than being consciously able to 'flip the switch.' His tendency to endure lended itself well through MAVERICK's training program, and the NC control schemes were just his 'style.' The only true variable had been the Emperor, a beast most fierce, one which he needed to tame. The only thing throughout the initiation program to linkerdom which had not gone per automation.

He paused.

Now reaching for a Stravoburg import, a Weissbier; costing 50 of whatever currency New Maryland ran on. True insanity, the cost, he thought as he flicked the cork with a quick diagonal pull displaying a clear expertise for cork-loosing. Looking up to Rosa, he then turned his eyes towards another identical bottle, tapping thrice next to it, before he pushed it towards her slightly, now taking a sip as he did. Good, but lacking, he thought as he opened himself up again for whatever she would say next.

 

[SkyHawk MK IV]

Episode 2: Electric Boogaloo
Hazel shrugged in response to the mans question of food, more concerned about the call that she was making. A few seconds later, the phone on the other end picked up with a familiar voice on the end "Miss Scott. What pleasure do I owe you at this time of day?" The voice of Sarah conveyed slight annoyance. Hazel must've either woken her up or worse interrupted her doing paperwork and administrative duties. Quickly, she gave a response "My apologies Ms Nielsen, we've got a situation at our little party. A old guy turned up, proclaiming himself as a Linker. Looks to be late 30's mid 40's. Smokes cigars and looks like he's just moved from the south." A few seconds later, the silence afterwards followed a small sigh "A name would be more suffice to my needs, Miss Scott. Not much I can do with a description." Hazel looked back at the gentleman who was still on the phone "Name?"

Presuming the man had given his name, Hazel relayed it back to Sarah, who after a few minutes of silence responded "Hadrian Fosse. 43 years old. Employed by MAVERICK and definitely a Linker. That's the sort of sweet of it. Will that be all, Miss Scott?" Hazel shook her head and responded "No that's all Ms Nielsen, thank you for your help." Ending the call and putting her phone away, Hazel looked back at the two in the door "He's legit, Camille, Linker through and through. Still bloody fucking weird though turning up like this. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." She met each others eyes for split second before heading back into the living room and towards the kitchen. Looks like Streuben and Rosa are getting along. Wonder if they'll end up getting a room.

 

[AnonyMouse]

Camille stood by, arms still firmly folded as the man made his call. The amount of numbers he dialed made it clear he wasn't calling the cops long before the conversation actually started. Yeah, that's what I thought. All talk, Cammy thought, satisfied, but not allowing it to register on her face. Even though she hadn't raised her voice at the guy, she was still quite clearly pissed that he'd shown up on her 'turf' and tried to strongarm her. Or maybe this was his idea of a joke.

Either way, fuck this guy. If Hazel hadn't shown up when she did...

Not wanting to make a scene, Camille kept her mouth shut, which was definitely a miracle in its own right. She was very conscious of her tendency to take relatively minor incidents and ramp them up to eleven. For reference, she was at about a seven right now. At eight, blows would be exchanged. At nine, the knives came out. By eleven, someone would be getting buried in the backyard. Or cremated on the grill.

"Nah, I'm good," Cammy said when the man asked if they'd like anything. "How about givin' my phone back, for starters."

It was about this time they both finished their respective calls and Hazel assured her this man was a real linker, which meant everything was okay.

"Oh, he's 'one of us?' Like that fuckin' matters," Camille said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She even did the air quotes. She stepped aside and gestured for him to enter, with a dramatic flourish. "Asshole could learn a thing or two about manners, but you know what they say. Can't teach an old dog new tricks." She looked him up and down one last time. "Come on in, tough guy... but know that you're gettin' punched in the nuts before the night is over. That's a promise."

 

[YsFanatic]

Episode 2
"Thanks," is Adam's simple reply as he hands over the power cable before giving a small nod in response to Cammy's comment. While the younger man took care of that issue, he started to pull out the controllers and set them on top of the console. While he only had four of them, one of the neat things about the console was that depending on the game it was possible for someone to use their phone or tablet as a makeshift controller. Not ideal by any means, but useful for simpler games that allowed for an increased number of players.

Once the system was plugged in and booting up, Adam looked over his shoulder to see Cammy was still at the door talking to someone, something that he found surprising. He had figured that if they were not supposed to be here that she'd make them go away which meant that his surprise only grew when she moved aside for the man to gain entry. Not that Cammy looked all that happy about the situation.

"Huh, don't suppose you have any idea what that is about?"

Adam figured that Niko wouldn't know anymore than he did, but it didn't hurt to ask.

------------------
Tanya Degurechaff

 

[Viper Actual]

"No offense taken," said Peyton as Cammy stormed off to assault the stranger at the door.

She shook her head lightly and looked up into the sky. There were still a couple of dark clouds looming over but hopefully she'd be able to spot some stars by the end of the evening. By now she could hear Cammy exchanging pleasantries with whomever was at the door. Peyton glanced back over to the house while her right hand instinctively moved to her hip, its fingers searching for a low-profile concealed holster.

Right, thought Peyton, grimacing. I'm at a party. No insurgents around these parts.

Exhaling she adjusted her bomber jacket to cover up her somewhat exposed hip. As the verbal fight at the door seemed to quiet down Jennifer glanced over at the grill. With nothing else to do really she took charge of tending the fire. Peyton used a elongated metallic fork to move the briquettes as the whiskey-empowered fire shuddered and roared like a untamed beast. Her eyes fixed themselves on the embers and the flames, glancing only briefly at the house every now and then while her hand continued its irregular movements.

I sure hope Cammy isn't expecting me to shoulder the role of a chef.

 

[Tanya Degurechaff]

Episode 2
"Nope, not the slightest clue what's up with them." Niko replied casually, having now plugged up the console. At least there was no genuine fighting, though it sounded like there was a brief argument between whoever was at the door.

"So, what is this thing anyway? I haven't fully kept up with how many consoles have been put out... Not that I've never played a game before." Niko stepped back and looked down at the console and its controllers, not recognizing anything giving away that it belonged to a particular brand he'd heard of. Perhaps it was a new competitor? Or he was just far out of the loop these days. Regardless, at least someone had brought an alternative form of entertainment over just watching TV or playing cards.

"Oh, and um, which games did you get for it?" Niko asked another question relevant to the console, seeing as it'd probably set the mood for how the party would go for those playing.

YsFanatic

 

[YsFanatic]

Episode 2
"It had the development name of Project Unity and many people still call it Unity because it can play games from almost any other console currently out there. The catch is you have to pay for the license keys for those other consoles in order to play their games, and that cost adds up rather quickly." Adam pauses briefly as he shrugs. "Not ideal for the average buyer, but its not too bad for someone making our kind of money."

Finally the system finished its first time startup and he was able to start the process of linking the controllers to the unit. After that he'd have to make a profile and acquire the license keys so he could but and start downloading games. Nice thing about living next door to this house was that he could still access the wireless signal from his own home without having to bother Cammy for her login details. Downloads might take a little longer, but he figured that the gaming might not start until after food anyway.

"Just got this, so don't have any games yet. Haven't decided if I'm going to ask people what they want to play or if I'm just going to pick out some stuff on my own, but if you got any requests just let me know."

----
Tanya Degurechaff

 

[Windsock]

Episode 2: Azata's Kitchen
As another rookie came into the kitchen, the veteran Linker noted the new presence simply with a nod as she herself continued her own contemplation on this overgrown man's reasoning, his implied thought-process. Translating his absurd mannerisms and what he was literally saying, she could come to terms with about half of what he just spewed out of his mouth. The drive to become the best was something everyone experienced at least once in their life, which she lately began to understand.

On the other hand, his literal words were fairly gross. To rule over, was his first thought? To hear of warriors stronger than yourself and not to just beat them in a fair fight to prove your own worth, which would be one thing, but to rule over with your overwhelming power? That was something she always hated. Reminding her of some of her own previous rivals, she lightly, barely sneered at the thought; Rosa's eyes rolling just a bit at the man's self-absorbed fantasy. With that, he started to sound like a bully.

She really didn't like bullies. But, she managed to reel herself in; this man was based with her self-appointed protege, and she managed to remember that it would be stupid to cause problems for someone you're trying to look after, at least in some part. She calmed herself down with the fact that the boy could at least be polite, watching as he went back putting away his gift to the hostess.

There were worse people in the world, Slyidina thought with a shrug.

She presumed the lady who just walked in overheard what they were talking about, and asked for her take on her own life-story as of late. "So, what about you? How'd you end up a Linker?"

Malphaestus SkyHawk MK IV ​

Azata's Backyard
With Peyton enjoying the embers of the roasting grill, she would notice something change in the darkening atmosphere of the coming night sky. A low noise, like a plane. Looking back up, she would notice the gentle stars had a new one amongst their midst, coming into hearing distance, and soon ready for a basic look. As she looked, her instinctual assumption was proven; a single, lone propeller aircraft; flying high at a steady rate, headed for the local airport, but currently cruising overhead.

The plane itself looked familiar, like she's seen it somewhere else; maybe even the same aircraft. It wasn't a huge thing, just a several-occupant personal transport, but something caught her eye as it slightly angled itself for a turn; the small emblem on its flank showing itself fully for proper analysis. On the plane, was CRONUS' own flag. Her old employers were apparently shuttling somebody into town.

Viper Actual ​

 

[SkyHawk MK IV]

Episode 2: Azata's Kitchen
Arriving at the counter top once again, drink still in hand lucky that nothing had been spilled from it's container, Hazel sat down and focused on the question that Rosa had asked her "I got interested in blowing stuff up from in my mid teens. Never cared about the usual girl stuff like dolls and makeup, though the makeup I did get into a bit. I'll admit that much." Hazel smiled, remembering her own childhood "Parents didn't really wanting me to get into demolition work, but I loved the hell out of it. Fast forward a 5 years or so, got a job as an assistant or whatever and I started from there. I traveled around being contracted for military and civilian demolition work alike. Honestly, best choice of my life. I was raking in the cash really, ended up becoming team leader with my own crew. That was hella fun. Drink beer after work with the lads is something I still miss."

Taking another drink of her whiskey, Hazel continued "I took care of them, and they took care of me during the good and bad times. A few years down the line, MAVERICK approached me offering the opportunity of a lifetime to become a Linker. I heard about what they could do, so I asked if I could sit on it. Giving me 24 hours or something. Hardest thing to do, y'know? I still miss my crew though, ain't gonna lie about that but I know they'd support me." With the last drop of whiskey from the glass now gone, Hazel reached over to refill it again. "So, that's where I am now. What about you, Rosa?"

Windsock ​

 

[Windsock]

Episode 2: Azata's Kitchen
As Hazel went into the base details of her own history, it was easy to notice Rosa's quickly changing mood; from a light, sneering attitude at Streuben's haughty idea to something more charmed in reaction to Hazel's own home-grown humbleness. A curt smile showed itself, and she obviously suppressed a snicker at Hazel's admittance to a lack of femininity during her formative years, yet let out a sympathetic depressing of the brows at the regret over leaving a life behind.

"Hey... MAVERICK loosens up the leash a bit, when you pay off your debt.", she offered to the younger woman. "It'll still be a while, but you could take a break when you want and happen to go back out to your hometown? See your folks again? Just food for thought. . ." She let that stir for a moment, before standing fully straight again and taking a second to adjust her own body. "Well, as for my little biography-"

Episode 2: Azata's Livingroom
As the two men finished their temporary addition to Azata's livingroom and started to find things to download, everyone in the room would note something not quite right, in the back of their minds, about the room itself; alongside the console the two lads just plugged in. Nothing they could put their fingers on, until something unexpected happen; the console Adam brought along shut itself off, a split second before the whole house went dark for another short moment. A quick yelp from the kitchen accentuated the confusion. What the hell was that about?

The house A.I. was the only feature that didn't go completely dark, managing to stay on for the breadth of blackness. Its gentle, synthesized voice offered a basic synopsis throughout the household. "Electrical issue detected. Presumed fault in the primary power cable. Please hire a certified technician promptly." Not a great sign. Still, the lights were back on for now.

Adam's console rebooting itself, it output a screen that told the viewer it was going to check itself for memory damage; and would take a few more minutes to do so. Lame. That left them without that distraction for a few minutes, and the console apparently had another dumb 'smart feature' that told the TV to automatically switch to something else for now. Very necessary.

The TV was now outputting a news channel; New-Baltimore-News, the local news station, thus the elegant nomenclature. Two people were talking; the average expected female news lead, sitting at the usual set-up of a round desk with a bunch of generated graphics augmenting the boring background behind her, and a projected image. The image was the projected bust of a fairly handsome man, evidently implying he wasn't physically there to talk, that assumption confirmed by the small text below the projection conveying he was a 'Assistant Freelancer', that went by 'Michael F. Smith', not representative of NBN, of course. At the middle of the sentence, one could start to make out the words of this darker-skinned, middle aged fellow.

"-Happy to be here. Anyway, I'll get straight to the topic at hand; what everyone's asking about. What was that big traffic jam with the MAVERICK trucks earlier today, at the lovely city-state of New Baltimore? Cutting straight to it, it was an official MAVERICK approved Linker operation, the first real intervention from the new base that was recently installed."

He talked promptly, quickly, but wasn't exactly hard to understand; and judging by the juxtaposition with the man himself he definitely felt half his apparent age. The woman, a blonde petite little thing that contrasted against this wise-and-spry lad but had the same 'get-it-done' attitude in her voice, asked the obvious questions first on behalf of her viewers. "Obvious enough, but what exactly were they doing? Was this worth causing a forty minute headache?", looking curious for any information this 'Smith' could provide.

"Well...", he started, the little look in his eyes suggesting he was ready to deliver a bit of a hammer-blow. "Take this with a grain of salt, but if my anonymous sources aren't lying to me, there was a private ransom held on New Baltimore from a terrorist organization calling itself the 'Sons of Zeus'. Allegedly, these ex-military thugs found chemical warheads and were getting ready to launch them at New Baltimore if they didn't get paid."

Taken aback, the woman was blatantly floored by the possibility. "Hold on-!", she started, raising her palm in an appropiate gesture. "That sounds unbelievable! Isn't being secret about it, defeating the point of the ransom in the first place?!" It was a valid point, to be sure. But 'Smith' had a decent enough elaboration, or so he looked. He went on to provide his two cents. "True, but there's some other factors at play. It's believed by my sources and I that the Sons of Zeus were just using this as a 'cheap' way to get extra cash they don't really need, and weren't expecting much from it anyway; a bluff. Another rumor, so again, don't put too much stock in this; but it's believed they're actually in some sort of alliance alongside some other, larger terrorist organization or two; like the Deserat or my personal theory, pirates."

Confused by that last statement, the newswoman was intrigued. "Pirates? Care to share?", which the man was obviously happy to oblige with. "I'm well aware that piracy is at an all time low near Baltimore's ports, but nature abhors a vacuum. There's plenty of big pirate clans who'd be interested in filling in that spo-", and with that, the news station cut off. The console's start screen was showing itself, alongside a message that conveyed it didn't detect anything wrong. Still, it was cool to hear something somebody in the house was just involved in; besides the obvious bad parts of what was just being discussed. Was that guy onto something? At least their jobs weren't exactly in jeopardy.

 

[Malphaestus]

Episode 2: Azata's KitchenFREDRICH-ALEXANDER VON STREUBEN
To some's surprise, he also responds to "Tower-Upright."

His eyes had been glued to the bottle he suggested Rosa to take and inebriate herself with, but alas she did not. He sat still on the bar stool, feeling Rosa's unspoken displeasure at his goal, much to his confusion. She had no right to, he thought briefly, before returning to the idea that he, himself, might also be peculiar. A breath through the nose, another sip of the bottle, as he moved his left hand over the deck, performing a one-handed blackjack. It was an easy trick, the foundation of all those which followed. One he had trained for an accumulative year, perhaps, and one he could do on reflex, much like many others, but this one more so than them.

He had felt Hazel's emergence into the increasingly vacuous kitchen expanse on the back of his neck, she had another drink at her side. Maybe he shouldn't have offered Rosa one, maybe then the situation would have differed exponentially. Maybe it was social taboo in the fractured states of the northern americas. He took another sip, and put the bottle on the table which now all three were centered around.

Grabbing hold of the first card amongst his now super-shuffled deck, he flipped it into an upright position, only to reveal the Magician in reverse. He sighed briefly, inaudibly, as he continued staring at the card, reflecting on it, adjusting to it. Poor planning, huh. He couldn't argue against it, the simple arrival here had been fluke and spontaneous, but in his admitted defense, the entire party seemed to carry with it the entire quality in ten-fold of whatever he had.

Buying the Huntsmaster, dated 2371 of all things, was probably a huge mistake too. Though one he'd have to live with. His debts were amounting after all, accumulating into the mountain summit: Debt Mountain. Maybe he should just leave, he pondered, though not in depressiveness, but rather isolation. No one seemed to get it. After all, he didn't even have a good track record in socialite activities. Bar hopping in New Europe were forced, no other place to get convenient food or drinks for the homeless. Only reason he did it as a soldier was because of the familiarity of it all.

He crossed his arms as he sat silently amidst the intermingling of the two Linkers. They seemed merry, at least. Now waiting for a good cut-off point amidst their discourse to announce his return to solitude amidst the singularly true high-rise throughout the city.

Though, just like his interaction with Hazel in the Hangar, it was not to be. The power was cut, the backup pushed into gear, and the lights flickered off. No matter how instanteneous it had been, his body jolted as he stood up and gazed through the kitchen entrance, out into the living room, and towards the hallway. His gaze then flowed from one window to the other, his military training guiding his lizard-brain through its reflexive actions.

An attack? The thought came abruptly, and left just as swiftly, as he quickly took control of his own body and his own decisions. Impossible. MAVERICK had total awareness through its impressive intelligence network, and the region was not active enough for massive rebel operations, he had spent hours researching into it on the balcony of his flat, after all, and most importantly Malthus had called him an idiot for being 'too paranoid about some newbie shithole.'

He stood still, and the lights came back, the AI having already briefed him and everyone else about the status quo. He heard the news blare off in the living room, a coverage he listened to intently.

Michael F. Smith, huh. He covered one of the border skirmishes in New Europe when Streuben was enlisted with the 22nd, though he was never associated with his own unit, placed in some barely frontline supporting force. Though he'd grown accustomed to seeing him, after all the news were his most watched TV activity here or elsewhere, but he felt a chill down his spine as he mentioned their own convoy at the break of dawn. It was a strange feeling.

A sense of existential validation, that his actions bore an effect on the world. Something within him demanded more of it, more attention, more of all of it. But at that precious apex the news were cut-off, and the sound of the Unity console's start-up sequence blared like sirens through his eardrums, even though it might not have been as loud as he himself envisioned. He shook himself into control once again, having now lost it twice in a row, but at least without any obvious effects.

He looked to Hazel and Rosa, now pointing towards the backdoor, as he took up his deck with the other hand.

Signifying the fact that he was going out for a smoke-break.

Maybe he'd stay just a little longer.

~~~~

The Magician
Manipulation, poor planning, untapped talents ​

 

[Aldur]

Episode 2

Hadrian Fosse​

​

Upon entering Cammy's humble abode, Hadrian did not make himself at home, but instead, he went to the nearest empty table/countertop and without a word planted his rifle case down with a large "HOOCH SCOOCH" patch stuck to its front. Unflinching, he slid the safeties off at the same time and grabbed the top handle. Hadrian stood still briefly and then raised the top and revealed a kingly array of modular liquor, including gin, whisky, vodka and countless other bottles of forget-me-lots. Alongside the hooch scooch, Hadrian carried another smaller case, roughly pistol sized. He lifted it in his hands and opened it. From within he procured a shaker, liquid, unsweetened liquid cream and a box of candied cherries, freshly relocated from Hadrian's fridge. All that was missing was the ice cubes, which he was certain would be somewhere around here.

The table was set and all that Hadrian needed to do now was begin the ritual. He grabbed a bottle of white rum from his case and twirled it in his hand, carefully taking the cap off and dropping the right amount of alcohol into the shaker. Switching his attention to the pineapple juice, he repeated his previous routine only without the twirl, ending on a high note before pouring the last ingredient, a swig of cream, to strengthen his concoction. They all blended into each other and once the shaker was set, they were set to ascend and become one. Hadrian picked the shaker up. A single thought stirred his mind and with an unflinching gaze, he would shake, shake, shake the shaker. By the time he was done, there was no more white rum, no more pineapple juice, no more cream. There was only pina colada. The refined nectar let its presence be known through its sweet smell. To finish the ritual, Hadrian took a straw and introduced it to the mix.

Sadly, his first sip would be one he couldn't see, but the outage did not compromise his taste buds. Hadrian's slurping broke through the AI's message, followed by a pleased exhale. The electricity would kick back in along with the television. Hadrian watched intently, forgetting to finish his drink. The gentleman, Michael F. Smith, was on the news talking about Maverick. Hadrian didn't like that guy, he knew two dozen Michaels and three Michael Smiths, all of whom he pitied for having the most common names in all of North America. Their parents must've hated them, he thought. Michael Smith. Two in his platoon back in the army and one at the gym he goes to. It sounds like nobody. You walk down the street in a crowded city and you could meet at least a handful Michael Smiths. But only one would tell you about pirates in the New Baltimore port. Hadrian wasn't sure if he meant him or his peg legged Handler. Either way, it wasn't a happy thought, but at the very least they'd clear him for some assignments. Hadrian gulped his drink and finished it.

"Anyone need their drink fixed?"
Interactions: Everyone
Mentions: N/A

 

[SkyHawk MK IV]

Episode 2: Azata's Kitchen
Hoping to get some insight into Rosa's history, it was quickly cut short by the sudden loss of power after the two lads at the base of the TV tried to connect the console to it. A success sure, without the consequence of the power loss. Surprisingly, the AI managed to stay online for everyone to hear with it's calm reaction to the situation at hand. Hazel had only just gotten halfway through her initial "What the fuck" reaction before power resumed to the house. The TV had decided it was time to show something worth watching as it switched itself onto a news channel, just in time to watch a report from none other than Micheal F. Smith himself. Hazel had seen him numerous times, always near at the forefront of anything military related that he could report on.

He continued to drone one about the recent MAVERICK operation that had taken place. Whoever his contact was, Micheal sure was using every bit of it to his advantage, just like any news reporter. It was only a few minutes that the reporter finally disappeared off screen and the console rebooted itself to normality once again. Looking around to the others, it was clear that the power cut had put a bit of a downer on the party though nothing that a few drinks or a certain someone couldn't remedy.

Hazel saw Streuben signal that he was heading outside for a cig break, but not before he fished his cards back into his pocket one of which showed a magician of sorts facing up-right. She would never understand why he carried those cards around. To each of their own. Hazel took another sip of the whiskey once more, slowly getting back into the mood of the party, or what was left of it anyway. Hadrian had offered to mix drinks to everyone, though she discarded his offer "Whiskey is just fine for me."

Aldur ​

 

[AnonyMouse]

As the man made his way inside and set up a mixing station on her kitchen table, Cammy watched him go. She briefly considered giving him his nut-shot now, while his back was turned. He'd never see it coming. But she wanted to see the look on his face when it happens, so that was out of the question. The night was young; she had time to do this properly.

With a slight shrug, she shut the door and returned to the festivities, feeling a little livelier for all that had happened. The party had more booze now and she had a new mark to pick on. To his credit, the guy knew how to take a joke and make one. She couldn't hate him, even if he had gotten off on the wrong foot. But a promise is a promise. Those nuts are mine, pal, she thought as she passed by his setup and entered the kitchen. I'm goin' wrist-deep in that shit.

"The hell is goin' on here?" Cammy whispered to herself, thoroughly perplexed by the grouping she found there. Streudel was doing card tricks and offering drinks, while Hazel and Rosa gathered around. So, the man-giraffe was capable of communicating with earth-based lifeforms after all. Who would've guessed? While he wasn't exactly the life of the party, he wasn't the death of it either, which was far more than Cammy ever thought him capable of. Then again, parties had an odd way of making strange bedfellows. She truly hoped that wouldn't become literal. Hazel could do soooooo much better and Rosa... ugh, just the thought of it flooded Cammy's mind with grotesque images.

Giraffe courts hippopotamus at the local watering hole. Lion is too disgusted to strike, moves on for easier prey.

She had actually come to the kitchen to get meat for the grill, but the power outage cut that short. "Useless piece of fucking shit," Cammy grumbled when the lights came back on. In the few seconds of total darkness, she had continued toward her --mostly empty-- fridge without breaking her stride, as if it didn't bother her at all and already had the door open by the time the room was illuminated again. But the news program that came on a moment later pulled her attention away.

The news that the 'Sons of Zeus' might be part of a larger terrorist network didn't come as a surprise to Cammy. But it didn't come as a shock, either. Job security. As long as MAVERICK existed, so would groups like this one. At least someone had noticed and was getting the word out and keeping the people informed of what was going on under the cover of darkness. She doubted this Michael Smith fellow's intentions were as altruistic as that, though. And Cammy was very aware that anyone who 'got the information out' could also control that information. She made a mental note to ask Halliwell about this guy later.

When the broadcast was cut and the console came alive, Cammy returned to her mission. She took a slab of something wrapped in foil on a tray from the refrigerator and turned just in time to see Streuben gesture toward the back door. So, they were headed to the same place. Ugh, she hated walking near him. Why did he have to be so freaking tall!

Instead, Cammy delayed her return to the grill by pausing to peruse the assorted liquor bottles the various guests had deposited on her countertop. She almost immediately snatched up the Huntsman, partly because she knew who'd put it there, but also because she didn't often drink expensive shit, so why not. It went on the tray along with three --yes, three-- shot glasses. Adequately armed for whatever came next, she went out the back door, but not before remarking to Hadrian, "I don't need my drinks 'fixed.' Straight. No bullshit," she said with a teasing grin before disappearing into the night.

This was, of course, a lie. She mixed drinks all the time. Just not now.

Cammy shouldered her way through the door and arrived where Peyton was still waiting patiently. "Sorry, some douchebag ordered pizza, but I'm still goin' through with this. Stubborn bitch, I am," Camille said as she set down the tray and slapped the foil-wrapped mass of meat and spices onto the grill. "The nerve of that guy, buyin' us stuff and mixing drinks for us. What an asshole." She shut the lid before properly turning to Peyton. "Anyway, we don't have to babysit this. Some other asshole brought expensive European hooch, so I'm gonna be an expensively drunk stubborn European bitch in a minute. You in?"

 

[Malphaestus]

Episode 2: Azata's Backyard (news broadcast written by Windsock)FREDRICH-ALEXANDER VON STREUBEN
To some's surprise, he also responds to "Tower-Upright."

The trek towards the backdoor of Azata's "house" had been an arduous one; icebergs loomed at every corner, along every wall. Icebergs which, whilst they may seem insubstantial, undoubtedly held within them biohazard materials and something at least mildly radioactive. Having stayed in the kitchen for so long, he had forgotten how frightening it was to walk amidst 'sludge' such as this. He thanked his earlier self for having the common decency of purchasing a cleaning robot.

The sight was enough to even make Streuben step a few seconds faster, blistering speeds for his common everyday maneuvering. Once he had finally grabbed hold of the doorknob, and pulled it down, minding the doorframe, mild exasperation brewed on his brows as they twitched momentarily. With the door closed behind him, he rummaged through his jeans pocket after having bowed into the opening, luckily having found the required resources necessary to instill in him a minute sense of stress-relief. Absorbed with his own minor panic, he didn't notice Peyton as she stood tending to the grill. Neither did he notice Azata as she came a slight while after him.

With a cheap, local cigarette in his mouth, lit and ready, he put the lighter back, and pulled out a rectangular bar from the same pocket. It seemed like nothing at first, but all Linkers would be aware of it, because as he flicked his wrist, the bar extended into shape; now a wider, and flatter rectangle. This was not the trick, the trick came now, when Streuben would press on the surface, and the tablet would shine to light. It was the MAVERICK standard issue personal terminal.

First of all, messages. There were two, one from Johnson, most likely showing a picture of the repair setup. Clearly useless, so he pressed on the message, and quickly swiped left. The next? Malthus, sending another unwarranted moan across the aetherspace, but at least it fit his character. Malthus seemed to understand him, even though negatively; but there was parity in their working relationship, Streuben thought, as he dismissed that message as well. Having thought about it, the Linkers are a rather tense gathering. They didn't seem to like eachother, or him. He couldn't be sure, not that it mattered.

With little else to do, and a huff and puff of the cigarette, he pulled up the news app. As Streuben flicked through the application, he found the live-feed option and basked in the discussion. Decently kept grass crunching beneath his feet, the portable terminal took only a few seconds to connect to the data stream and offer a continual feed of information.

Jumping back onto the news, it was a continuation of what they were talking about on-air; Mr. Smith's own theory on the goings-on behind the scenes of recent incidents. "-eavers being my favorite, for lack of a better term, of course! They're one of the most powerful pirate clans, especially in recent times. Their leader, who we only know as 'The Reaver'-, great name, I know-, is definitely the type to try and destabilize the region to suit his own purposes; and with his previous history he's probably trying to make his own pirate-state. The usual megalomaniac things that one can expect?", implicitly laughing at this pirate-lord's self-appointed name. He certainly didn't seem intimidated by the thought himself.

The news-casting woman seemed happy with the discussion, and soon tried to put a bow on that particular part of the late-night news. "Thanks for coming by to share with us about the daily MAVERICK incident Michael, but hopefully we won't have to call you again too soon!", which the man nodded at, and bowed himself out to. "Any time, Alice.", cutting his side of the connection. 'Alice', the newscaster, then turned back to the camera and offered an insight into the next thing on the agenda. "Up next, a re-cap of the regular news for our nightly viewers; after the break!", at which point the broadcast would ordinarily show a commercial from Quantum Computing Research, a fundamentally manipulative name for a corporate enterprise, and their amazing smart appliances. In reality, their only work involved tricking people, though even he had some of their products back at home.

But he, at least, was aware of it.

He's rich enough, now at least, to be a hypocrite. No issue so long as he was aware of it.

Let others think and live whatever lives they trick themselves into.

Let them mouth and sneer as they wanted, he was above it, he thought as he blew another cloud, looking briefly towards the grill.

At least he didn't live like a troll.