• 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 Ｔｈｅｒｅｆｏｒｅ Ｉ Ａｍ - IC

Characters
Here
Other
Here



wilde





































  • mood



    determined and grumpy
















Wilde blinked at her fellow ARO, quietly surprised. Her head titled to the side, eyes rolling to squint up at the sky, considering her argument. While she had a good point about their conversational skills, she still didn't like the idea of sending Mica off with someone who was going to set off her flight or fight with every twitch. Frankly, the same could be said of Victoria, who seemed to be wound as tight as the compression spring in a gun.

With a click of her tongue, Wilde shook her head. "Fine, alright. Didn't want to brag, but yeah, none of you can hold a polite conversation for shit. So guess I'll have to shoulder the heavy burden of talking. But you-" She pointed at Victoria. "Still with me."[/b][/color] Without leaving room for conversation, she spun on her heel, headed towards the nearest main street. "Military doesn't lend itself well to putting on a smile, but maybe we can teach you how to be a little more cordial." Frankly, she thought that everyone ought to be a decent enough conversationalist to be doing this sort of work. Community was one of your best resources as an Arrow. But she supposed the sanitation and tightening of the leash that arrived along with the privatization of the business meant that they'd forgotten that the common folk could be of use. Typical CPD behavior.

Out along one of the more populous streets, Wilde made sure to keep in step with Victoria, while also scanning faces for someone who looked like they might know something. Specifically, a resident of the area would be nice. Or the sort who lingered. She tilted her head slightly, brown gaze following the second floor of the surrounding buildings until she spotted what she was looking for. Above one of the stores, a potted plant just barely visible behind thin curtains: a sign of someone's living space. Throwing a quick look to Victoria, jerking her head in the direction of the store, the ARO strode into the building.

If the neon on the outside was anything to go by, it was clothing boutique that also happened to sell up-cycled antiques. Exactly the sorts of things that wealthy folk looking to flip the neighborhood would be interested in. Wilde raised an eyebrow, passing by the rows of colorful and glitzy clothing with a considerable amount of doubtful confusion obvious on her features. It was clear with the small shake of her head that this was distant from her understanding.

Not that she needed to understand. Walking up to the first employee she saw, she quickly got directed to the owner in the back of the shop.

It was a small office, cluttered, with all the effort and comforts clearly put into the store. A middle-aged woman with smoothed wrinkles and brunette hair pulled back into a tight ponytail sat in front of a computer, spun around to face the two.

"So, what I'm... part of some investigation?"

"No. No, you didn't do anything. Nothing we care about, at least," Wilde laughed. "You live here, right?"

The woman's brow twitched, lightly concerned. "Yeah."

"We're just trying to get a lay of the land here. You see anything weird lately? People who look like they're up to no good. People carrying large bags. Maybe people you aren't used to seeing around?"

"You get all kinds of people in a neighborhood like this." The woman huffed. "I try not to judge."

"Right, right. Everyone could be another sale, I get it." Wilde scuffed a shoe against the floor, thinking. "Look. This could be a matter of life and death, alright? Could be a matter of losing this store. So help us out, so we can make sure that doesn't happen." It was always a balancing act of sincerity, seriousness and callousness when talking to people. Luckily, Wilde had done it enough to understand what most people would respond to. This woman may not have cared about anyone dying- outside of losing customers -but losing property was another thing. And after all, they had no idea what this Julius was building.

The woman lifted her chin, glaring down her nose at the two operatives. Finally, she sighed. "Few days ago, there was some big racket behind my apartment. Thought it was construction at first- there's all sorts of that around her. Trying to renovate all this old warehouses into new living spaces. But then there was gunfire. I know my place, course I stayed put. That's none of my business. Not the first time someone's been killed here, and probably won't be the last. But I didn't want my store getting ruined, so I came down to make sure all my security was on, and I saw through the front window. Some big guy, maybe six foot something, blonde hair, and he was walking like he was in pain. There was another pair of guys following behind him. They were looking at a tablet, talking. Then the blonde one, he fell to the ground and he... well he didn't get back up. Must've been the one they shot?" She shrugged. "I called the CPD about it. No one came."

Wilde blinked, biting hard on the toothpick between her canines. "Right." Fucking CPD officers were always shit. Figured they wouldn't have even thought this could be connected. If anyone even bothered to log the incident. "Well, ma'am, you can trust us to actually do something about it."

She looked to Victoria. "Anything else we need to know?"

































mesa













♡coded by uxie♡
 
the weapons specialist
location
Far Southeast Side boutique.
interactions
Wilde.
mentions
birdgeoisie birdgeoisie
victoria yan.
Despite the oozing contempt for every living person that seemed to come across Victoria’s path, she did know how to fucking collaborate. As such, with a final, bitten out, “Really fucking hard to smile when you have blood on your teeth. Seems to put people off,” she turned her eye to the looming figure of Raine, a quick up-and-down scan that happened in a blink of said eye. Her skin prickled uncomfortably when she turned her back on them, trying to ascertain if the hulking shadow was watching her, analyzing her, trying to figure out how to crack her skull open like a fresh egg. Still, she followed Wilde with no further comments, leaving behind the other AROs.

A handful of strides away, a new tension replaced the old. The half-glowering facial features smoothed out to a flat nothingness, the ramrod straight back folded in on itself until the tension hung in her shoulders instead, and her hands snaked their way into her pockets, curling around a blade that she might be able to utilize to rip open anyone who tried shit. The spring had uncoiled only to wrap itself differently, to tangle itself into the knots that would be lingering in her back at the end of the day, a new concern about what someone might see if they looked at her too closely and for too long— the eye that had been ripped out and changed, the scars that crackled across her flesh, the sticky dark that had settled in between her ears and painted the world with hidden eyes gazing upon her.

She found nothing amongst the crowd, far too many hustling and bustling back and forth, a sort of suffocating, overwhelming information overload that made her eye practically useless, forcing her to rely on her normal sight to try and pick up a shift in the crowd. There was a hint of relief in the straightening of shoulders that were starting to slump when Wilde indicated that they ought to head into a building, and she strode after the other woman with her hands still crammed into her pocket, fingers wrapped around the blade lest something happen.

The contents of the store did not make Victoria blink twice, the kitschy, over-the-top colors and designs wriggling a memory free, of her mother dressed in something far too loud and rough for Victoria’s own tastes, placing down a vase with fanciful colors and designs, meant to be looked at rather than utilized. It was far more expensive than necessary, as she would ascertain by the argument that would brew in the living room when her father came home, a snapping exchange of words thrown back and forth between the pair of them. The volume would escalate and escalate until it felt like it was rattling the door frame, the walls, her bed, and she would slip out of its cocoon to crawl into the hallway, peering into the bedrooms of her older siblings and asking, one after the other, if she could stick with them instead.

The memory sank back underneath the waves, mixing in with all of the other maybe-recollections, of moments that were the same or similar enough. They stacked on top of one another, their edges blending and bleeding into one another, a proverbial soup that occasionally flowed over. She ignored it, most of the time, and she did here, instead following Wilde silently and with a sharp gaze, examining the pieces around them to see if any of them might have something to do with a case or two— laundered goods repainted and modified to be sold to the highest bidder, lost to time and space.

As both Victoria and Wilde had discussed, it was best if the woman who seemed to actually have an emotion and therefore could actually give a shit spoke. She listened with an increasing feeling of exasperation, a burbling frustration in her chest as she realized that there was a lead here that had been left to the wayside for who-the-fuck-knew how long, and now what could have been a strong opportunity was essentially reduced to whatever hadn’t been picked off. Still, there might be something there.

Her voice shifted when she spoke, far more high-pitched than the one she had utilized when arguing for her ability to stick with the individual least likely to make her want to stick her blade into soft flesh, asking, “Would you mind if we took a look back there? They may be something left behind that we can utilize to ensure that whoever it was that caused that ruckus won’t bother you or your store again.”
coded by natasha.
 



wilde





































  • mood



    determined and grumpy
















Reading people was a sort of sixth sense for Wilde. Even though their focus was largely on the proprietor of the store, she was also acutely aware of thee growing aggravation next to her. Occasionally, she'd glance between sentences out of the corner of her eye- just to assure herself that Victoria wasn't about to pounce on this woman. Verbally, or physically. The woman was already on edge enough, clearly not a fan of the operatives, so any wrong move could mean any goodwill ceased. Luckily, that did not happen. In fact, Victoria seemed to be keep herself together rather well. Considering the few, brief, and rather hostile interactions she'd had with the weapons' specialist, Wilde was impressed. Something akin to pride needled at her heart. She always liked to see people succeed, particularly in areas they struggled.

But that shift in tone left her reeling, a fleeting expression of surprise crossing her face. Everyone had their tricks, she supposed. If this was what Victoria had to do to make herself appealing to others, so be it. As long as it got results. And it was a good question, too. See, Wilde had just planned on going back there anyways, regardless of any permission. But Victoria's way was probably better.

Heaving a heavy sigh, clearly desiring to be long gone from this conversation, the woman shrugged and waved her hand. She turned back to continue typing at her computer. "Whatever you have to do. Just don't break anything, or I'll be getting your badge numbers." It was something of an empty threat; everyone knew the CPD didn't get disciplined. And Wilde doubted this store or this woman had enough influence for it to be a publicity issue.

With as much information as Wilde figured they'd get out of the woman gathered, she silently gestured for Victoria to follow. The back of the store was less an alley and moreso a full road, but not one that had been given the same attention that some of the others around here had. The empty skeletons of storefronts and garages and stalls, creaking in the chilled winds that fell from the seawall, gaped at the two operatives like hollow skulls. A quick glanced up and down the road indicated that only the levels above ground held any life, and appeared to be residences. Though even those were scattered at best, with windows shut, barred, and blinds drawn.

Wilde hummed softly in thought, walking carefully towards the center of the street. She did a slow twirl, eyes scanning ever divot of brick and metal, before falling back down to the underfoot asphalt. Any blood that might've been here had long since been washed away by the near constant precipitation of the city, and whatever foot traffic passed through. But Victoria was right- there had to be something that was left behind.

"Take a look around," she ordered, absentmindedly, as she began to pace one side of the street, peering down every alley and up ladders or rickety stairs. In a neighborhood like this, ground level was never going to be where criminals would hole up. It was far too exposed. But the jungle-gym of decaying metal that clawed at the sky was the perfect home. Wilde only wanted some kind of indication of where they might've headed. Searching every floor and layer of the southwast side was an impossible task. All they needed was something to narrow their options.

Her eyes caught on the lifted ladder of a fire escape, just a few feet into a skinny alley. Not bothering to grab Victoria yet- after all, it could be nothing -she sidled into the space and craned her neck up with a tight frown. Rusted pieces falling off, looses falling loose, and metal cracked or snapped or split were all to expected of an area with such little maintenance. However, what she was looking at was distinctly not that. Above, the metal banister had been twisted. Bent, like a piece of clay squeezed between the hands. The deterioration of time and weather did not do that.

She hopped up, batting at the lowest rung of the ladder. It took a few tries, but on the fourth she wrenched it downwards. With a loud clang, it extended fully. Smoothly, too. Like it had seen use recently. An interesting possibility for sure.

Stepping back out into the open, she called out for her partner, "Hey, I think I might've found something-"

































mesa













♡coded by uxie♡
 
"What sort of target would that be? If a promotion is in order after you expire than I suppose that would give each of us more of a reason to gun for you as you say," Kaiser continued keeping his gaze ahead of where he was driving, programmed to have the best in road safety a machine could have he rarely ever deviated his sight to anything in whatever vehicle he drove. "That would be implying that I have the capacity to be bored. Go on with your history lessons old man, I have all day. I would agree though that your generation is superior to the rookie's, look at how well you've held up!" It seemed to be the bot's attempt at a compliment, or at least it could come off that way. Kaiser kept a careful eye on Venus as they made their way through the crowd, his systems keeping them within sight at all times while he continued behind them. He hardly reacted when the civilian became a target of violence, simply watching and waiting and driving as Jae-Sung spoke.

With a soft nod he lowered the aerocab down near the crowd to allow Kiala to get out, turning his head slightly to watch. Once she was out he pulled up once again, speeding off towards the building that his teammate had pointed out. Pulling around he brought the vehicle to a stop, putting it in park and crossing his arms over his chest. It was a strangely human gesture and it almost looked as though Kaiser was pouting. "Vehicle is parked, radioing the others now," his ears perked up as he sat there, waiting a second before speaking once again.

"Venus. Rookie. The old man requests a status on the situation. Have you de-escalated the target?" The robot sat back a bit in his seat, not once pulling his hands away from his chest as he listened quietly. While he wanted to be more involved in what was happening, he felt it was best to listen to Jae-Sung and remain parked where he was. At least for now. If it seemed he was needed in other eays he wouldn't hesitate, but for now he would wait.

Tags: nav nav Vagabond Vagabond AmberV AmberV
 
the weapons specialist
location
Far Southeast Side alleyway.
interactions
Wilde.
mentions
birdgeoisie birdgeoisie
victoria yan.
Victoria barely managed to bite her tongue to avoid snapping back at the boutique owner, offering her badge up to her with a snide remark about how she could have fun with it, given how little use it was getting. While this interaction had proven fruitful, the time that had been permitted to elapse from when the incident that had more than likely involved their target actually occurred to when they were actually hearing about it (right this incident) was certainly too long. It was those shaky few hours right afterwards that would have given them the tantalizing pieces they were supposedly chasing by wandering about the streets, burning time and money and patience that didn’t quite exist. This song and dance meant nothing in the end, just more time for Victoria to spend around coworkers that made her want to sink nails and teeth and metal into flesh.

As if only to push her further, Wilde gave a command that snapped Victoria’s usual foul attitude back into place, a heavy blanket that settled over her shoulders as soon as they stepped into the alleyway. Her eyes narrowed, her upper lip curled as her shoulders slumped forward, a hunched over, almost defensive position.

“I was planning on just kickin’ it back and makin’ you do all the work, but if you insist that you may need help from someone like me,” she remarked sarcastically and snidely, a childish quip that underlined her childish insecurities, her automatic defensiveness whenever prompted by someone whose shadow melded with the ones that were cast over her memory. Still, she did turn and affix her gaze to the door that they had just stepped out of, tracing the frame and its outline carefully, carefully. She did not fully expect something to be there— time would have done its duty to erase most marks, the dreary atmosphere and people who faded in and out of the city slowly sloughing off whatever evidence had lingered for however long the perpetrators permitted it. In addition, she doubted that they would have done something so close to a building like this, with a clear occupant and items that clearly warranted some level of careful handling, care and protection that the empty, looming warehouses did not. As such, while she was careful to gaze at every inch, she did not linger here, walking backwards steadily and slowly, the hairs on the back of her neck rising in anticipation of the woman further down the path.

The ground proved far more fruitful, specks of blood that had sunk into the stray pebbles and asphalt and were not washed away so quickly, clinging to the crevices and cracks that sprawled out. A stray piece of crumpled up paper, a sharp edge of a can or bottle that had been cracked so long ago also had the old, rusted over red on it, litter that captured garbage. Something had happened here, something vicious and violent, something that had left someone deeply wounded. Still, all this did was confirm the story that they had been told, nothing more.

Further along, however, there was something a touch more interesting. Grooves carved into the curb of the alley, scrapes as evidence of something heavy being dragged. The hairs on the back of her head raised for a different reason— hadn’t the woman said there was something going on behind her store, before she spotted someone out front? So, had the collapsed figure been shot out here, stumbled to the front of the building, then ate it before being dragged back around?

Perhaps to hide the body— to seclude it away from prying eyes. If so, that might mean that there were further remnants somewhere. She followed, slowly, eyes trained on the markings, ears straining for anything and hearing too much, the drips of water and the crackles and groans of the old metal and dilapidated surroundings, a voice in and of itself. As such, she heard something loud ahead of her, abrupt and sudden and snapping the pattern of the surroundings in half, causing her to stop, her grip tightening on the blade in her pocket, eyes narrowing—

Wilde stepped into view, faced with Victoria’s usual scowling face (an indication of agitation, though this time it was not wholly directed at the other operative). “Well,” she said flatly, blinking, “where is it?”

Glancing slightly past the other’s shoulder showed a fire escape, the probable cause for all the noise that had just reached her ears. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, jerking her chin towards it as she said, “Let’s go,” intent on not being the first one up to see whatever the hell it is that they may be seeing.

As Victoria approached the ladder, she took note of the same twist in it that Wilde saw, but was also able to note the peculiar absence of grime on the railing of the fire escape. Sure, there was deterioration, but there was no familiar stain, unlike the stairs themselves. Her eyes narrowed further at this— someone had come back to remove something.

Once they had climbed up the fire escape and onto the next level of warehouses, the scrapes and scratches and dents and divots vanished. No clear trail here— had someone been waiting?

Victoria glanced around once more, her eyes roving in her skull as quickly as possible, trying to seize snatches of something, anything— nothing.

“Well,” she said, finally bothering to offer information alongside her usual tone that deeply implied she was enduring the situation through gritted teeth and a necessity for a paycheck, “she definitely wasn’t lying. Someone got hurt— badly, and then got fucking dragged.” She paused for a second, her facial features furrowing further as she thought, her gaze flickering down to the fire escape they had just come from as she spoke, slowly as if parsing through each word as they left her hips, “She said there were gunshots behind at first. Someone was hurt here first, before they stumbled out front, where they actually fucking ate that bullet. Guys probably were intent on getting the body the fuck outta sight, and so brought it back here,” she pointed at the fire escape now, “and maybe dragged it all the way up fucking here. They tried to clean up after themselves, too, wiped the railing clean off— which means that they were certainly here, actually,” she added wryly. Their thoroughness was a clear indicator that something had happened, something had to be hidden. What it was, well.

They had hidden it quite well, it seemed.
coded by natasha.
 



mephitis.

































This part of the city had a filth that seeped miles deep into the ground, and Mephitis was delighted at it, held back from scurrying off to weave between the stalls only by the prospect of there being more to look forward to. Areas similar to this one were as familiar as the back of their hand to them, and it was the same desire that they had been nicknamed ‘Rat’ for, that made the junk feel just like home. Whatever home was.

The fact that they held back from scurrying off did not include the part that they still lagged behind just as much, if not more, as another one of the team - Jay? - eyes glued to the never-ending stalls. They were searching - partially for a lead - but also, for what could be pocketed for the moment with carelessly slung around credits.

“Trinkets, trinkets,” the word was repeated quietly under their breath, muffled by the metal of their mask as they tilted their head to the side, attention finally drawn to a play in the light. “Ah.” It’s triumphant and accomplished, and they disappeared behind tarnished metal and leaning poles to follow the glint - team forgotten for the moment.

It was their luck that the metal figure discarded in the rubble didn't take long to notice, and they crouched down to pocket it. If Mephitis cared even more about appearances then they already did, their height would fall into the category of ‘deficient’ and haunt them each time they looked in the mirror, but as it was, it was only to their advantage that as they crouched down they became damn near unnoticeable.

And very left behind.

To the point that it made Mephitis pop up in the midst of the group a minute too late after they hurried back with treasure in tow, only catching part of the conversation in process. At least it was the part of the conversation that had their name and that was all they cared about, nudging the mask into place from where it had shifted and nodding along. They were more than satisfied with the idea of checking out the reclamation yard.

“Let’s do it. Dumpster diving always gives leads.” Did it? Definitely. Their hands came together with a resounding smack, echoing what could be characterized as child-like excitement. Or professional passion. Put that on their resume. ‘Enthusiastic about work.’

‘“Ta-ta!” Waggling their fingers in farewell they began to move their way towards the reclamation yard, seconds away from making this a hobby run, job be damned.

































(ambiance)













♡coded by uxie♡
 


















糖衣炮弹





It was easy enough, now, to pick up the source of irritation. Venus glanced at the shattered glassware strewn about the street, and mused, mildly, that they would have been smarter than that. You didn’t become twitchy and unsettled the second someone looked at you and, well - this A-gen had made an enemy while trying to be discreet. He was basically asking to be decommissioned. They slid ever-closer, pale gaze flicking between Julius and the vendor.

The sudden movement might’ve appeared faster or more alarming to a human, but Venus perceived it well. They were almost impassive as they began to draw closer and closer - some people, unused to a fight in this area of the city, were drawing back. It gave Venus less cover to approach, but they didn’t care so much. The A-gen’s focus was on the rapidly purpling vendor, and Venus, like a predator stalking their prey, slunk closer and closer.

Ordinarily, they wouldn’t have bothered about the vendor. They had let many civilians die in the past if it had afforded them an opportunity. It was easy to claim they hadn’t gotten there fast enough, or that it was beyond their abilities to save one life. After all - they were only human. What could they do? But in recent months, things had felt stranger. It was not their own guilt that was at play - they knew that. Venus did not care about the vendor. If he died, the street would be normal again tomorrow. That wasn’t it.

They just didn’t want to disappoint her.

It would’ve been easier not to engage and to wait for someone with far more social skills than them. But, well. Venus had been an ARO for a couple of years by now. It would’ve been ridiculous if they hadn’t picked up some degree of awareness for how to handle a situation like this, unnatural as it might’ve felt.

Venus pulled away from the crowd and into the circle of space that had been made for Julius and his victim. There was no indication of what they were on immediate display, but they suspected that Julius would figure it out quickly enough. Both of their hands were in view as they circled into Julius’ line of site, gaze flicking to the vendor’s face. An A-gen could strangle out a man, sure, but it would’ve been easier to snap his neck and move on. This felt passionate, panicked.

They supposed they could relate to that, in their own actions over the years.

“There’s no need for this,” they said. They pitched their voice up a little to be heard over the crowd’s murmurings, but it remained quiet. Gentle, almost. Like someone soothing an injured animal. They were not built for this. “Killing this guy isn’t going to help your situation.”

What did you even say to de-escalate a situation like this? Killing the vendor might save Julius’ life but it would probably make him feel a little better. Still, though. They wanted his focus on them and, they supposed, it would be better if he lunged at them rather than killing the vendor. They stepped close enough, but they didn’t push to be too close.

Their head tilted to listen to the radio. They wondered if they were close enough for Julius to pick it up - and they suspected they were, because they would’ve paid attention to something like this, had they been in his position. Venus exhaled slowly through their nose. The rookie would probably do a better job of this than them but the vendor was choking now, so they couldn’t have afforded to wait to engage.

They needed to have words with the local empath after this. It was just not right that Venus cared about one little life in the grand scheme of things.

Very quietly, the said into the radio, “you know, it might be good to give the other teams a status update. I think he’s going to bolt.”

Or he was going to attempt to kill them, and they’d have to pull some bullshit to survive yet again. It was a toss-up, really. Venus wondered if this job was starting to really age them. They were predicting a nice meeting with the nearest brick wall if Julius got his hands on them.





























welcome home












♡coded by uxie♡

 
KIALA LOURDE

Location: Southwest Side Mentions: Jae-Sung, Venus, Kaiser​

She nodded towards Jae-sung, acknowledging his instructions, but she never pulled her eyes from the crowd. He was mostly talking shit anyways, only a few of the words were important. The rest was squawking and pointless posturing. Wierdly moralistic too, considering he'd been so glib about the man's life just moments before. Joking about a civilian dying was totally fine, but God forbid someone had a less than stellar opinion of the mechanical trash.
She'd show him that she could do her job just as well as anyone else. She may not actually be hot shit, but she was at least lukewarm.
But it started with a plan.
Kaiser had dropped the aerocab near the crowd and Kiala stepped out, trying to angle her way through so that the a-gen was between herself and Venus. She didn't need to take him down herself, she just needed him to drop the guy and bolt. Hopefully, he'd bolt right towards Venus. And, if by some miracle he escaped, they'd at least have enough to put out a warrant for aggravated assault. Pair that with some of the cctv footage from the local shops and it would be all too easy to plaster his face across the entire city.
Kiala pushed through to the front of the crowd, pulling together the look she'd practiced for hours in the mirror. Slight furrow to the brow, but not angry, making sure to not clench her jaw or appear tense. Firm, but calm. Perfect, she definitely looked very cool and reliable.
"CPD." She stepped into the space between the crowd and the a-gen, pulling out her badge and flashing it, "Sir, I'm going to need you to put him down. I don't want to have to bring you in, but I will if I gotta." No need to mention being an ARO. She didn't really look like the stereotypical ARO and, if he thought she was a regular cop, maybe he'd be more likely to try to leave instead of fighting.
If she was lucky.
She was praying she'd be lucky.


ARO ROOKIE
 



wilde





































  • mood



    determined and grumpy
















It wasn't a surprise to see the disdain envelope Victoria once more, but it was a little disappointing. Wilde was frequently annoyed with the younger woman's aggravating antics, but she'd be lying if she didn't want to see some improvement in their relationship. If anything, it would make working together easier and- more importantly, -safer. So although a snide remark about the attitude sat on her tongue, Wilde bit it back. Bickering would only make things worse.

With the specialist in tow, Wilde gazed up at the fire escape, mulling over her thoughts. They ought to find Raine and Mica, see if they found anything of interest, too. There was safety in numbers, especially if there was someone going about and shooting people in the streets. That could imply a heavier presence of underground dealings than they had been expecting. Even the most bare-bones of organization was going to make their work a lot harder. Victoria cut straight through the precautions, though, with an expectant gesture to the ladder.

Wilde's brow raised, shocked for a moment, before she coughed a small laugh. "Shoot first, ask questions later. I should've expected that." She'd always been easy to convince into doing stupid shit, so she simply hopped and began the ascent. "Though, uh, for future reference, running into shit like this with no backup is usually a death sentence." Clearly that kind of forethought wasn't stopping the season Arrow, though.

She led the way up until they had reached the open, rusted second layer of the street. It was something of a concrete terrace, with the buildings stacked up all around them, a comparably thin path crawling at the edges of the buildings, which was also criss-crossed and occasionally divided by sections of exposed rebar or similarly rusted stairs and ladders. The whole place had certainly seen better days. And it seemed that anything beyond street level had not received much care from investors. Wilde wondered just how much of this was on the verge of collapse at the next big storm.

Chewing thoughtfully at the toothpick, Wilde turned back to Victoria as she spoke. She nodded along. "That's assuming that was all the same incident. We don't know how often things like this happen. Maybe they were just sloppy that one time. Or maybe our little fashionista informant isn't so observant. Or it never got bad enough to tell anyone about it until someone died in front of the store." Wilde shrugged. "Lots of things to consider. Still, would've been nice to have been here sooner to when it happened. Shit, if there was anything in the first place, it's definitely all been swept away by the rain by now." She huffed with frustration, scuffing a boot along the ground. The bubbles that lingered in the path were like little eyes mocking her. She squinted, then quickly began to pace around the area. To Victoria, she must have looked a little insane.

Spotting a dip in the concrete, she dropped to a squat and swirled her fingers in it. A distinct sheen of oil flickered back at her. "You'd think if these had all been out of commission for decades, there wouldn't be anything left to leak. All that shit's way too valuable, they would've taken it away." Wilde paused, then whipped her head to look over her shoulder at Victoria. "Let's say you're an A-gen, maybe a group of them, and you're trying to build something in an old, rotted warehouse. What do you think you'd need gasoline for?"

Wilde had a few ideas, and it was all pointing to something much bigger than their standard catch and decom mission. She shook her head and pulled out her radio. "Raine? Need you to come to our location. Behind that shiny little boutique- quick."

































mesa













♡coded by uxie♡
 
TASK: LOCATE ROGUE
A-GEN "JULIUS"​

Julius' eyes flitted down to watch the vendor's feet kick useless in the air. He seemed to be contemplating the action, though his grip didn't wane. The trained operatives, too, were all to familiar with an action like this. How easily the human body crumpled beneath the might of the war's children. By now, the CPD vehicle overhead was more than obvious to the assailant, who snapped his head backwards in an inhuman, jerky motion. His head followed the path of it. Escaping scott free was quickly become a difficult option.

In that same manner, Julius' attention shot to Venus. The placid curiosity he displayed began to distort into aggravation, brow pulling tight together and face darkening. After all, what would this human know of what he needed? What he needed was to get out of here. He'd needed it several minutes ago. They had set him on a detour. The sort that someone like him could not afford. His lips pressed tight together, nostrils flaring for a moment. Somehow, he seemed to be both robot and animal at once. Perfectly calculated and yet as hair trigger as a cornered beast.

When yet another entered the fray, it was more than obvious to Julius that these two wouldn't be the only ones coming. He didn't have time for this. The target appeared to completely disregard the words of either ARO, turning back to face the vendor fully. His grip loosened enough for the vendor to gasp for air, but only for a moment.

Julius' grip readujsting, swinging the vendor's body out and launching it at the operatives. If the vendor's neck twisted, snapped loud enough to hear, with only a gurgle scream left in his wake, that was only a side-effect. The vendor's ragged body aimed for Kiala, while Julius spun on his heel and surged forward again. As he swept past, his arm hooked into the nearest bystander's- an older woman in shock at what she was seeing -and wrenched downward. Though not as grotesque as the vendor's death, the sound of bone snapping was still obvious enough to those near. The woman crumpled forward with the weight of the target's tugging, then remained on the ground, howling in pain and cradling her arm.

Feeling like he'd left enough of a mess to distract, Julius fled towards where another aerocab sat parked down the block. There was no more concern for being discrete, with civilians being shoved and stomped at his convenience.

nav nav , Bleating Ram Bleating Ram , AmberV AmberV , Vagabond Vagabond
Southwest Side
code by birth of venus.
 
TASK: IDENTIFY INTENT
OF PURCHASES​

The hawking of wares dulled by the time the AROs crossed the threshold of the reclemation yard. The adminastrative building was a rust-red shack that looked as scrappy as anything in the sea of junk behind it. Still, the inside of it was shockingly nice. It seemed that the yard was interested in presenting somewhat of a cleanly image to those interested in what it had to offer. After all, it wasn't only the unlawful who found these items useful. Or at least, not only the unscantioned unlawful. A couple workers were seated along the walls behind double railing, where they appeared to be cleaning, fixing, or appraising various items from the yard. To the AROs, this largely looked like amalgamations of metal that were meaningless. Though, of course, to a trained eye, there was untold value to be had.

Behind the chrome front desk, ringed with fizzy yellow neon, sat a lanky and scruffy looking man. His boots, tied three times around the ankle and caked in years' worth of mud and what have you, were kicked up on the otherwise pristine piece of furniture, as he distracted himself with a box of metal. It looked sort of like a puzzle box, covered in smaller contraptions and pieces that twisted and turned.

The man jerked up, eyes flying wide open as the AROs entered. Obviously, he hadn't been expecting such an intrusion. A stained sleeve rubbed across the top of the desk to clear it of any mess his shoes had left as he cranes his head up. "Howdy there, folks." His grin was framed by thin, chapped lips and displayed yellowed teeth- with a number missing or replaced with shiny silver and gold. "Looking for anything specific today?" He waggled his eyebrows. It sort of gave of the sense that he had not pegged the operatives as such. "We got all sorts of metal and shit you could ever long for. We got good extracted alloys or raw scrap or old comp parts." The man scooted his chair forward, ruffling a hand through greasy blonde hair. He looked to be rather young, maybe in his mid-twenties. "Pardon, I shoulda started simpler. You new to the yard or, ah... repeat customers."

@ManicMuse @AI10100 .wren .wren @Castello Sear Sear

West Side
code by birth of venus.
 


















糖衣炮弹





Their lips parted to stop the rookie from speaking, but her mouth went off and fuck, man, Venus didn’t know many things but they did know how A-gens worked. Escalation was inherent to them, especially when law enforcement was involved. Whether it was CPD or an ARO, it didn’t matter. CPD inherently meant an ARO would, sooner or later, turn up. Julius didn’t have to be intelligent to figure that out and hell, Venus wasn’t going to insult his intelligence too much. Especially when his fingers were around the throat of a civilian.

Their gaze flicked impassively down to the vendor’s kicking feet, distracted only briefly as Kiala began to speak. They weren’t sure what damage control they could do here - they were sure, had they been more of a negotiator, they might have been able to do something. As it was, they’d just have to disappoint. At least I tried, they thought, but the thought weighed heavy on their chest. Not guilt. Just frustration. Things had been put out of their hands - but they supposed they had no way of knowing if they were at fault, or if it was the rookie. It was easier to blame the rookie. Maybe she’d learn something.

Venus’ mind worked quickly. They’d always been great under pressure, right? But they couldn’t do anything inhuman. They couldn’t react too quickly. They couldn’t try to throw hands with an A-gen, especially one with a size advantage against them. They knew, at least, that they’d probably aggravated him by showing up. Kiala had made it worse. Blame the rookie, they decided.

Maybe she was a good kid. Maybe she wasn’t. In the moment, Venus didn’t care whether or not she was.

Their nostrils flared and they stepped away from Kiala as the body was flung towards her. The vendor was, unmistakably, deceased. There was always paperwork when civilians died. They hated paperwork. They’d give it to the rookie, they supposed. Their eyes narrowed and they focused entirely on Julius, no longer caring of the civilian crowd. They’d tried, and that had been what had mattered. Trying was half the battle. Now, of course, it was a matter of trying to suss out what this A-gen was going to do.

If they were him, they would do something unexpected. But they weren’t in his situation. They weren’t sure they could figure out what he would do. Only that they wouldn’t do what he was doing. They wouldn’t have been caught. They hadn’t been caught. It seemed like a skill issue on Julius’ behalf. He just wasn’t good enough at learning how to survive, despite the passage of time. Where Venus had learned to thrive, Julius’ desperation made him stink like a wet dog.

They surged forward, intent to stay on Julius’ tail. They were a wolf on a hunt and Julius was their prey - though they doubted he knew it as keenly as he might’ve thought. An ARO was one thing. Venus was another. Their lip curled, vicious canines exposed for a brief moment, as the old woman was thrown aside. It was easy to jump over her and keep running, following quickly in the wake of Julius’ fear.

“Deal with this,” they snapped over their shoulder towards the rookie, though they weren’t confident that they could be heard.

What did they know about Julius’ model? They were walking tanks, or something like that. Did it compromise their speed? Venus wasn’t sure. They’d learned to balance their own speed with their apparent strength - would it be suspicious if they put on a burst of speed? Fuck it, they decided, and pushed themselves to run faster, boots thudding against the ground and chain jingling loudly at their side. Their gaze was fixed wholly on Julius, and their limbs shoved of their own accord if anyone dared get between them and him.

“Target aiming for an aerocab,” they said into their radio, “Kaiser, prepare to cut him off. Try to stop him from taking off at all, if I can’t get to him first.”

Though they didn’t sound out of breath, their breaths still came heavier. Anticipation of the kill, the rising adrenaline. The sheer excitement of in the lead-up to their prey’s imminent demise - and yet they couldn’t do it alone and it frustrated them. They weren’t meant to hunt in a pack and yet here they were.

Or were they meant to? They didn’t remember, really. All that mattered was the distance between them and Julius, and their determination to close the gap until they could grab him.





























welcome home












♡coded by uxie♡

 
the weapons specialist
location
Far Southeast Side alleyway.
interactions
Wilde.
mentions
birdgeoisie birdgeoisie
victoria yan.
A muscle jumped in Victoria’s jaw as she clenched it, eyebrows furrowing for a moment as Wilde offered alternative explanations, poking holes in her neatly packaged theory. No words slipped out though, as she had to acknowledge the other woman was correct— the fashion informant was a civilian that may have been frightened and scrambled her memory of what order things had happened, what night they had happened even— the gunshots could have been tossed in as a memory from a day ago, but one that would make sense if someone appeared to have died. As she thought, she also considered the cleanliness that she had seen, a cleanliness that was not usual, but did not offer any clues as to exactly when beyond a vague, nebulous recent. A thought chilled her to the bone as Wilde spotted a drip, an oily sheen that could only mean gasoline— what if someone had passed through just the other day? The other hour? What if someone was lurking, somewhere, and waiting, right fucking now?

Her chest squeezed at the thought, that there might be someone around at the moment, watching the two of them faff about right under their noses, seconds away from turning the scene into a game of cat and mouse— or perhaps a pair of sitting ducks getting their comeuppance for poking around too deeply. Her face reflected her racing, paranoid thoughts, color leaving her and her lips pursed together tight in a discolored line, eyebrows now furrowed upwards in a classical appearance of concern. The questions she was being asked, the point she was being led to did not help her current state of mind, which scrambled for explanations that she had seen before— heavy machinery was involved which meant, building weapons, building A-Gens, fixing A-Gens, manufacturing something meant to cause mass destruction with a human face that might slip through the crowd.

She was jolted out of these thoughts by the next set of words Wilde was speaking, words that sent yet another chill down her spine— an implication that Raine may be arriving soon, at some point or another. The hulking figure, looming wherever it stood, always in the corner of her eye yet never fully present. A shadow of the past, a ghost of the past, manifested and haunting her still, with acidic breath that stung at her face and she now sometimes tasted in her own mouth after one swig too many.

There was the threat of whatever lurked in the unknown, in the yawning chasms of the warehouses around. There was the threat of a figure that she knew too well, hulking and brooding and with a violent temper ready to explode. The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t— hah, what a bullshit quote, a statement that she tossed away so easily, because she had never had control of the devils that she had grown up with, that had nestled themselves into her psyche all these years later. The unknown was a realm of possibilities— some of them, she walked out alive.

Victoria approached Wilde, her stance and expression changing to one of determination, the flash of spiraling thoughts contained to a mere moment that was being put aside now that she had made up her mind to forge forward. She glanced down at the shimmering oil before glancing upwards towards the clutter of buildings above, her eye seizing upon one drop as it descended and tracing it back and back and back, finding the dim shimmer of opalescence coming from a window several stories up in a nearby warehouse.

Against protocol, against Wilde’s advice, against her own instincts to a degree, Victoria moved, her eyes bouncing about the various pathways that could potentially be suitable for a person, her neck still craned all the way up as she attempted to trace a path through the maze of ladders and stairs, broken and rusting and dead ends, at the end of the day.

Glancing back down, she had migrated away from Wilde, the other woman no longer within sight (and a misplaced wave of relief washed over her at that, the part of her brain that had been abuzz since they had parted ways from the others finally quieted down to a whisper, a simmering anxiety that she had never been able to turn off)— and she was now facing a set of doorways. The calm from being away from others settled into her bones as she gazed upon the yawning darkness that empty doorways offered, the winks and glimmers that those that were slightly ajar gazing upon her with a matching steadiness.

Her feet continued to carry her forward, further and further as her eye examined up and down the aging metal, trying to pick up a spot out of place, a signal, a hint that may help her further. She paused in front of one garage door, now even further into the belly of metal, rust painted down its surface. She glanced back— this was different, this looked different. An exception that signaled to her that it had been opened before, before as in recently, as in maybe as recent as the past weekend—

Nothing was telling her that there were other eyes watching her as she made an obnoxious sweep of the door, of the ground before her, her head moving in a comically wild way as caution finally crept back into her decision making. Satisfied, it was tossed away as she gripped the handle, heaving it open with a screen of metal and springs, a cacophony in the silence of her singular figure.

Once it was open, she found— nothing. More trash, litter, a constant in this fucking city, so therefore not out of place.

Until her gaze found a metal staircase and traced the steps up with a sense of foreboding before her eyes darted away, finding— an elevator, its hulking shell staring down at her, sorely out of place. The combination of the reverberating metal screech that still lingered around her and the realization that she might have actually stumbled on something brought the adrenaline back into her veins, tension filling her body as her eyes darted about frantically in her head, her shoulders pushing up towards her ears in a shudder as she crept forwards, examining the walls to see if there were any lightswitches, any potential flickers of electricity that might explain the gasoline sooner, quicker, right here at the entrance.

None.

Her breathing was starting to pick up, rattling about in her lungs, in her ears, only overshadowed by her steps as she crept towards the elevator, as if it were a siren ready to drown her. A thought pounded through her head, almost louder than both combined— Please not work, please not work, please not work, please not work—

It was working. There were switches that were alive with the hum of electricity motivated by the gasoline that dripped outside, near Wilde, and a screen that was on, faintly, the numbers staring at her intensely: 0000.

This floor, if she were to guess. She suddenly could hear the wind rattling every loose piece of litter, the groaning of the building she was in, and she thought, she thought she might be able to hear the sound of other footsteps, somewhere in the distance, somewhere in a corner of her mind.

Fight or flight kicked in and she was spinning around before breaking into a full sprint out the door she came, nearly running into the opposing wall as she turned to race back towards Wilde, arriving once more on the rooftop pale faced with wide eyes. She approached the other woman, in a voice that was actually shockingly steady for how much her hands wanted to shake, “I think I have managed to locate their operations. There is a working elevator down there,” gesturing vaguely towards the direction she had come sprinting out of, like a bat out of hell.
coded by natasha.
 
With nothing more to do than wait, Kaiser sort of lulled off into a bored state, leaning back in the seat a bit and simply observing his surroudings. What more was he supposed to do? It didn't eem as though he was currently needed beyond just a ride for the others and it wasn't like he could go for a leisurely stroll at the moment. He did the only thing he could do: wait. The robot had found that sometimes waiting could be boring and he learned that boring was a state of existance he could have done without. Before his accident boredom was never a concern. He had a job to do, programming that told him what to do and how to act and how to feel. Before he became an ARO boredom was simply a state of being humans felt that sometimes led to his own misfortune. He could see why now. Sitting in the vehicle with nothing to do made him want something to do, he wanted to be the one in the midst of the action, any action.

At the sound of his name he perked up, ears straightening up as he heard Venus' voice come through. It appeared fortune favored him and if he had a mouth to smile with he would have been grinning like a damn fool. "They will not have a chance to escape," his tone was confident, decisive even. The car hummed to life as Kaiser put it in drive, a quiet static coming from him as he peeled away from where he'd left Jae-Sung, heading in Venus' direction.

From what he could hear things hadn't gone very well. That's what they got for sending in a rookie to handle the situation. Not that he would have been much better. In fact Kaiser was certsin if he'd gone in he probably would have made things worse. Or maybe not, but it was roo late to speculate on such things. The car stayed a bit high as he sped forward, keeping an eye out and easily spotting Julius and Venus. They were the only people running like crazy after all. His gaze moved ahead to the aerocab Venus had mentioned and for a moment Kaiser debated on simply crashing into it. He would survive the impact of course, and if there was another agen in the car he doubted anyone would be upset if they died in the crash. Correction, he doubted anyone would have been upset if he hit an agen because he didn't believe a mere car crash would even damage an agen let alone kill one.

Every circuit that made up his being wanted nothing more than to hit that aerocab, listen to the metal scream in agony as it crumpled from the impact. But if he did that then how would they all get lunch afterwards? Walk? He wouldn't have minded but that wasn't fair to his comrades. Rather than barrel into the other vehicle at a high speed, Kaiser whipped around to cut Julius off and stop him from reaching the aerocab unless he went around. Or through the car, surely that was an option. His door flung open and he pulled himself out with a grunt that seemed to be more of a habit he picked up than actual effort. Raising to his full height, he watched Julius and a bit behind him, Venus.

"Running is futile, I suggest you surrender now," he took a few steps forward towards the agen, putting a small distance between himself and the car he emerged from. When the bot stopped he lowered himself down a bit, arms at the ready to either lock around Julius should he barrel into him or tackle him if he attempted to slip by. "I'm sure you don't want this to end up in a messier situation than you've already made but I am willing to do just that if you continue to run."

Tags: nav nav birdgeoisie birdgeoisie
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)

Similar threads

Midrick
Fandom Cyberpunk: Streets of Fire
cyberpunk
Replies
2
Views
103
Slowpokie
Slowpokie
StormWolf
Fandom Cyberpunk 2099
Replies
4
Views
131
SomebodyElse
SomebodyElse
wickedlittlecritta
Fandom BattleTech: Clan Invasion (IC)
battletech mechwarrior
Replies
5
Views
55
Viper Actual
Viper Actual
hotsauce
Multiple Settings Alumni of the Arcane || IC
Replies
2
Views
87
lostbird
lostbird
Misty Gray
Realistic or Modern The Roaring Twenties - IC Thread
Replies
19
Views
343
Misty Gray
Misty Gray
Back
Top