Exiled Memories IC (Cyberpunk RP)

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Postby FalseProphet » Sat Aug 07, 2004 12:45 pm

Having to listen to the smug Crayfish talk as if he were an old friend bothered Donovan. This agent, former agent as it would come to be, seemed to know too much for his own good about Alastor; if The Crayfish knew anything about his current self, then there would be more than sparks between them.

The safehouse seemed inviting enough, but like everything about the situation Donovan was suspicious; the motives of Crayfish and how they would conflict with his own were high on his list of issues to address.

"I can let you stay here until you figure out what you're going to do next. I cannot help you otherwise, I'm jeopardizing my job as it is. Alastor, I am sure, can handle you from here... However, if you don't mind, I may stick out for dinner. Josh, from what I understand, could use a little... filling in ."

This is your safehouse, Crayfish, it's your perogative if you stay or go. And we need to talk about many things, resources, especially anything relating to cybernetic research.

The cybernetic eyes of Crayfish narrowed. And since when do you think that we can reveal all our information to someone so recently turned to the cause?

Since I came to the conclusion that my cybernetic implants are hindering me more than helping. It isn't all your information, merely some. Consider it aiding a co-worker, as you so aptly put it. Besides, someone else in our organization may have use for them once you clean them up.

We'll see what we can do, Alastor, but I don't promise anything.

Duly noted. Donovan became acutely aware of the pain in his elbow. Once you are done elaborating on your old friend's past, Crayfish, we can start discussing strategy and resources. Right now I need to clean myself up. I'll be upstairs. He walked up to a bathroom on the second floor to tend to his wound.
[center]Now that there is no laughing Kefka for my sig line, I'm resorting to this...[/center]

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Postby Laila » Sat Aug 07, 2004 3:57 pm

Once they were seated comfortably in her limo, Laila leveled her feline gaze at the man, a more predatory smile curling her lips. They were in her lair now, and she was tired of playing games. Besides, this man intrigued her, but if he wanted to continue hiding his true agenda, she doubted he would hold her interest for too much longer, which could be bad for his health. Her eyes glinted strangely in the evening light, and her voice was soft and strangely hard when she finally spoke.

“So, are we going to cut the crap and speak plainly to each other, or are we just going to keep dancing around the matter at hand until you leave my car and we don’t see each other again?”

When Laila finally spoke out Edward almost laughed… almost. Things were at last getting truly interesting. Speaking plainly was always quite a risk, but you only get so far with double talk and now the time for that was over. Taking the plunge Edward responded.

“You once again present a valid point. I suppose now that we have a bit of privacy I ought to properly introduce myself. I am Doctor Edward Mantella.” He paused a moment and adjusted his glasses. “You have heard of me no doubt. If not before then certainly most recently, I have been in the news a bit. And if you do follow the news, and I think you do, then you will likely be familiar with the troubles that I alluded to earlier.”

The pirate paused a moment and looked over the woman with him, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t too shocked by what he was saying. It ought to have been a bit of a surprise to her, but if it proved to be too shocking Edward would likely find himself in a delicate and dangerous situation.

“I have revealed all of this to you because I get the feeling that you can help me somehow. Though just how I am not certain, because there is still a great deal you have been keeping from me… So now, I do suppose, it is your turn.”

Laila kept her smile. She had almost hoped that he would reveal himself to be someone like that. Intelligence did seem more prominent among the crooks of the world. After all, they had to work very hard not to get caught…if they were going to be successful of course. Of course, if he was who he said he was then she could expand her area of information coverage by much more than she had dreamed before.

“Fair is fair I suppose.” She crossed her legs, hooking her foot behind her calf, and smoothed out her skirt a little before speaking again. “You asked before what I do for a living. I buy and sell information. I have quite the network of informants and spies running through the government. That’s how I made most of my money.” The mutant moistened her lips with her tongue. There was much more to her life, but she had never divulged this much to a stranger, and frankly the people of her inner circle didn’t know much beyond that.

“My name really is Laila Davies, though few who work with me in my more secret profession know me by that name. Now, I believe I can help you rebuild your constructed reality.” She smiled, showing her perfectly straight teeth, though a few were slightly more pointed than they should be. “That is, of course, if you want my assistance.”
To be true to yourself and get caught,
Or to betray who you are and remain hidden.
Shakespeare was wrong.
That is the real question.
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Postby Edward Mantella » Sun Aug 08, 2004 12:20 am

The pirate had been taking quite a risk in revealing himself to her, but he had little fear of her revealing him, and his instinct it seemed had proved right once more. Edward could see that there was more to her than she was just revealing, but it was enough to start with, and she was offering her help and that is what he was looking for after all.
"I would indeed like your assistance. But you do not see the sort to just five your help away, except to perhaps museums. What is your help going to cost me? And just how is it that you plan to help, for that matter."
He had felt from the beginning that she would be able to help him he just did not know how, and he still did not know how, though it seemed even more certain that she could.

Laila threw back her head and laughed. Her golden green eyes twinkled with true mirth as she gazed at Edward.

"I may have been willing to reveal some aspects of my life, but now you're asking about my trade secrets. Those are off limits, but since you're bound to want to know more for your own peace of mind, I'll tell you this..." She tilted her head to the side as though thinking of how best to word what she was thinking. " I'll just pull strings and toss a little cash around. We'll leave it at that." She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, adjusting her position in her seat.

"As for what sort of payment I require, well, I would have thought you'd guess that by now." Her smile remained though it grew less jovial and more business like in nature. "I want information concerning anything and everything going on off this planet. I also want there to be a continuous stream of information, not just a one time burst." Her eyes narrowed. She wasn't sure how well he'd take this, but she had to set opening terms, and this was what she honestly wanted from him. "I'm sure there are ways to contact Earth from space, and I'm also sure that you should be well versed in codes in case your transmissions are intercepted. We can work those details out tomorrow, but that's my basic request of you."

Edward was not surprised by the request he had figured she would ask for such an exchange.
"Very well. I can agree to that. If you can get my officers out of prison and get me access to my ship, so that we can get off of this damn planet. I will provide you information from outside. In my profession I have made a lot of contacts, I will be able to get you a great deal of information about the off planet goings on."
Edward paused to adjust his glasses as he so often did, but he still had more to say.
"This whole arrangement does require a great deal of trust between us. I have revealed to you who I am. You know a lot more about me than most people do. Of course I don't think you would try to turn me in because I will be providing you with valuable information. Yet, in my profession I have learned not to be overly trusting, the information you have about me, an accurate physical description, voice recognition, etcetera, is also quite valuable. And if you were to sell it that would make my life much more difficult. I have already have a difficult life and I would not be pleased to find it more difficult. So do trust in this fact Ms Davis. If you reveal what you know about me I will find out, and I will make your life quite difficult to, and mostly likely quite short."
He was not threatening her, his voice never changed from its passive tones, he was simply informing her.

She nodded with an understanding smile.

"Yes, but I have also given you valuable information. No one knows my true identity with a very select few exceptions, and those exceptions have either died mysteriously or have given me equally valuable information about themselves." She shrugged nonchalantly. "That's the way things work in this profession I'm afraid. Of course, my concern if I were you would be having your ship boarded in the future now that similar information has been obtained on your officers." She idly glanced down at her overly long fingernails. "Though I suppose I can have those files taken care of as well. I'll keep them, of course, as collateral...to ensure that you keep your end of the bargain." She looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled.

"Do we have a deal?"

Edward didn't really care what was for was not know about his officers, knowledge of them only posed minor problems, but he did not object to Laila's offer to deal with the files, every little bit helped.
"Very well, we have an agreement. To make things a bit easier for you, the men you need to get out are Jean Baptiste, Ross Criton, Gil Stern and Philip Impleza."
Mantella looked out the window of the car seeing that they were nearing his hotel.
"Well, unless we have anything more to discuss at the moment perhaps we should arrange to meet again?"

Laila gave him a curt nod and handed him her card.

"You can reach me at the number listed there. Tell the secretary to patch you through to my mobile number." The car came to a stop, and she reached out to shake Edward's hand. "It will be a pleasure doing business with you." Her lips curled into a smile as the driver opened the back door for Dr. Mantella. "Goodnight."

Edward took the card, scanned over it briefly and then slipped it into his shirt pocket. He shook her had, and then the large man ducked out through the door with a brief nod of thanks to the driver. He turned back momentarily. "Good evening." with that he proceeded into the hotel.
"Life is very long when you're lonely"
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Postby Cricket » Mon Aug 09, 2004 10:49 am

She smiled at Mal's suggestion of home-made, grilled food. Drew had done his best and she would never have complained at what she was given, grateful as she was to have a safe haven with ample food, but cooking was not a priority on the ship when everyone had so many jobs that they performed. In fact, she had been planning to offer to handle the cooking to help out in some way. It would have given her something to do and feel more useful- and she'd always been told she could do it well. But that would have to wait. They had arrived and now her stomach was turning flips from trepidation.

It was time to face what had happened to her. It was time to find out why it had happened. She couldn't help fearing that she was putting Malitar into harms way, because of his helping her. She'd grown very fond of the man and his droids and didn't want them hurt because of her. As much as she wanted and needed to know the truth about the events that had happened, part of her wanted to hide on the ship forever and just forget about it.

Plato had been curled up beside her, letting her scratch his ears when Mal had made his announcement. The little droid looked up at her with eyes that seemed to see right through her and know what she was thinking. It nuzzled her leg, then gave her an encouraging push toward the door. Laughing softly, she smiled crookedly, then hopped off the bed where she had been sitting and left the room to find Malitar, Plato trailing behind.

Biting her lip, she mulled over possible problems they might encounter. She had wanted to take Plato with her. She was even fairly certain that if she asked, Malitar would agree to it. But the more she thought about what might happen, the more nervous she became. Perhaps it would be better if the little droid stayed on the ship where it'd be safe. She didn't want anything bad to happen to anyone because of her. She was already going to worry about Malitar sticking his neck out for her- it would be easier if she didn't worry about Plato as well. Would the little droid understand if she left it behind? She still hadn't made up her mind if she would ask or not, by the time she stopped next to Malitar, waiting for him to finish preparations for them to disembark.

There was no way she could do this without Malitar's help. She suspected he wouldn't let her try and oddly enough that helped calm her nerves some. Quietly, she reached down and scratched Plato behind the ears again. Malitar knew what he was getting into. She would just have to pray that he didn't pay the same price for being with her that her family had. Smiling slightly, trying to push the rest of the fear down so that it wouldn't hamper her movements, she glanced at Malitar.

Food first? Then...find a place to begin....

It wasn't a suggestion. It was a question- she was perfectly happy letting him lead.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Tue Aug 10, 2004 10:36 am

Josh watched Donovan climb the stairs before turning his frown back on Crayfish. "What was with that? You let him believe you worked for the resistance."

"Let him think what he likes. I don't trust the guy. Josh, he's a hunter. Those guys are bred for one purpose. Everyone on the payroll has heard tell of Alastor. He has a habit of taking things that one step further in his duties.", Crayfish left it there, he didn't elaborate any further, instead pulling a pack from his pocket and lighting a cigarette.

Josh followed suit before responding. "You owe me some answers Ethan"

"Ah.. so he does remember.", the man they had known as Crayfish smiled. "Where would you like to start? Or perhaps you should realise that I owe you nothing. For fuck's sake, I've just saved your asses."

"Or just put us somewhere where your superiors can keep tabs on us again, just like the other safehouse."

"Joshua. I was doing my job. Unlike you I still understand duty and respect and law. All you understand is chaos and rebellion."

"I understand freedom!"

"Ha! Freedom from liberty! Freedom from order! You're a fool!"

"Hey!" Buzz's voice cut into the arguement. Fists had been clenching, and it had looked like things were about to get ugly for a second. She sighed in the sudden silence as Josh shook his head and dropped himself into a seat and Ethan sat back against a table for a breather. "Come on guys. Whatever happened before doesn't matter now. Play nicely or I'll take your toys away and you'll go to your rooms. Okay?"

Josh smiled despite himself, looking over at the stern mechanic with her hands on her hips. "Okay...", he took another drag and looked back at Ethan. "Why did you help us now?"

"Because I found out you didn't do what they said you did. I was assigned to the capture operation, in lue of the murder of one Mrs. Giselle. At the time I didn't make the connection to you, but when I saw the pictures, well, it was obvious it was you." He paused. Then "I did some investigation, found out what you'd been doing. Damnit Joshua. If you hadn't had that file in the bank they'd have killed you straight off."

"So you were responsible for the safehouse op."

"That's right, cause it was the only way I could think of to keep you alive until I could figure out how to get you out of the shit you'd gotten yourself into." He stood and walked over to the window. "We were friends once Joshua. You, me.. Eliza. Eliza would have wanted me to help you."

"Yeah.", Josh smiled more broadly. "Eliza was always the peacemaker, you married her just after college and.. wait. Would have?"

"I lost my wife in a terrorist bombing incident three years back. They had targeted a school of all places. Eliza had been teaching there since college."

"We don't target innocents.", was all Josh could say.

Ethan laughed bitterly. "But that depends on what your fellows consider innocents. The school was a training academy for goverment officials. A sort of finishing school for prespective politicians and such. A good target where your people are concerned."

"I don't believe you."

"Josh" , said Ethan, turning with a sad smile, his eyes whirring. "When are you going to realise that things are never truly black and white? The lines are always blurred. Yes I admit we have corrupt officials within are number, people like Kelbecki. But the resistance has Kelbeckis too. People that will win nomatter what the means. People that will kill the lamb as much as the wolf without guilt."

Josh said nothing, he looked over at Buzz and then back down to his hands. Was he a Kelbecki. He had killed. He had done what he had to do. The burning guilt that he might have unwittingly been involved in the death of his old friend's wife singed his stomach.

The sound of Donovan coming back down the stairs stirred him from his thoughts.
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby FalseProphet » Tue Aug 10, 2004 3:08 pm

Donovan turned into the bathroom door, and started the water running. After a few moments, he moved so that less water was heard and more of the conversation below could be. The government plant talked on about how he was instrumental in getting Josh out of some self-imposed problems with the law. Then, in true governmental fashion, he spun the story of his wife being caught in a Resistance attack, that there is no black and white in the war between Anarchy and Oppression. "There are always good and bad apples in each side," they say, and imply that "our side is the right side regardless."

Of course, both sides say that. This is all ludicrous; no side is better than the other. Everyone here is here because of a personal vendetta, and I'm no better. Then again, "Ethan" neither are you. Don't think you're better than anyone just because you have lost parts of your life.

Donovan quickly cleaned the blood off the wound and headed back down stairs. Josh looked emotionally distraught about Ethan's speech. Staring at Ethan's mechanical eyes, he said halfway down the stairs, So we all have justification for our roles in this tragedy. That's marginally comforting, as I abhor chaos and those who act without thinking first.

Waxing poetic won't make your position or reasoning any more or any less valid than mine or Joshua's or Buzz's. I appreciate the assistance you've given us, but if you're quite finished antagonizing my ally, we have business to discuss, the kind that needs no governmental ears to be party to it.
He stopped in front of Josh, still gazing at the robot eyes of Ethan.
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Postby Khavi » Tue Aug 10, 2004 7:18 pm

Buzz sat silently listening to the three men talk and argue. Each of them seemed to want to prove themselves the more justified in their actions, that their faction was somehow morally superior to the others.

"Come on, boys," she said, standing up. They all looked at her quizzically. "There's no point in standing here arguing over who has the bigger penis, all right? It would be appreciated if we could just sit down and discuss this in a civilized fashion. So put your politics away, and let's keep going."

At this point there was a small amount of arguing with her, but she silenced them with a look. "Don't," she said, crossing her arms. "Sitting here bitching is not going to get us anywhere, all right? I swear, any of you act up and I will make you raise your hands to say something. So just... don't."

They sat quietly for a moment, and Buzz couldn't help but feel like her mother again. She didn't realize until after she was finished talking that it was the same thing her mother had always done when Buzz and her brothers had gotten in fights. She smiled a little to herself, remembering, before looking back up at the motely crew around her. They didn't look spectacularly happy.

"Look, we all have our ideals about our sides and our enemies, but this isn't the place for it," she said, her tone softening. "We have other things to worry about, like living through the rest of the night and figuring out how to get our asses out of this frying pan and through the fire. You three work it out, I'm going to find dinner. And if I have to come back in here before I'm done, heads will roll."

She turned and left them to it, thinking as the walked into the kitchen that maybe leaving them alone wasn't the greatest idea in the world. Buzz had to hope that they would be able to figure something out without killing each other.

Unfortunately, she was completely wrong, and twenty minutes later there was an unecessary amount of noise coming from the dining room. Buzz frowned at the sandwhiches she had just made, and turned on her heel to march back through the kitchen and out into the diningroom.

She got to the doorway and was greeted by the sight of Josh and Crayfish standing on opposite side of the table, snarling across at eachother. Crayfish had one hand on the table, the other pointing at Josh and Donovan. Josh, fists clenched, looked ready to throw himself over the table and throttle Crayfish. Donovan stood next to Josh, seemingly ready to do the same.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Buzz snarled, and three angry faces looked up at her and immediately paled.

"Oh, shit," said Crayfish, lowering the arm pointed at Josh.

"That's it, apparently you three aren't adult enough to be left to your own godamn devices. Josh, Donovan, go sit in the livingroom," she said, pointing down the hall. "You all three obviously need a little time to cool off."

"Buzz-"

"Go," she said. "I'll be out to talk to you two in a minute. Crayfish, you're coming with me to the kitchen. I want to talk to you."

Donovan and Josh trudged off down the hall into the livingroom, and when Buzz heard the TV flick on she turned around and pulled Crayfish into the kitchen.

Once back in the kitchen, Buzz looked Crayfish up an down. He looked half wild, his chest heaving. Despite the fact he seemed to be trying to calm himself down, he still looked insane. Buzz got a glass out of the cabinet, filled it with cold water, and pressed it into his hand.

"Drink. It'll help you calm down." She watched him down most of the glass, and saw his breathing visibly slow when he finished. "See?" she said, taking the glass back from him.

"You certainly know how to handle a situation," Crayfish said once they were into the kitchen.

[color=limegreen]"Something I learned from my mother,"
she said, turning back to the sandwhiches she had been making. "This is the same thing she used to do to my brothers and I when we were little. Throw us into seperate rooms and make us sit there and calm down, and talk to us seperate. Then she'd put us back together and make us shake hands and apologize and come to a civilized agreement about whatever it was we were fighting on."

"Your mother sounds like a formidable woman. Smart, though."

"Only formidable when she was angry. But certainly smart... I guess my brothers and I are better for it... well, one of my brothers, anyway. Bill's fine, but Paul..." she frowned, and turned back around to face Crayfish. "This isn't about my family, Crayfish."

"Ethan, please. No need to keep calling me Crawdad anymore, huh?" he laughed.

"Fine. But you have to talk with me, Cray... Ethan. Honestly," she said. "No lies, no governemtn bullshit. Just you."

"Cross my heart," Ethan smirked, tracing an X over his chest with his finger. "And hope to die."

"Do you believe everything you said out there? That there's not always a black and white, the lines always run together. Corrupt people on both sides."

"Of course I believe it, Buzz. I'm not just a government mouthpiece, you know. Maybe it sounded like I was trying to stick a spin on it all, but I was trying to make a point."

"Good... I agree with you, you know. Both sides have their problems. It's why I never actively took part in the Resistance or the Government, until now. There's too much political shit everywhere, for my tastes. Too much sneaking, too many men like Kelbecki who fly the banner of one faction or another but really are only in it for personal means."

"Everyone's in it for personal means, mechanic. It's all a matter of how much you let your personal means interfere with your work, whether you're a rebel or an agent."

"And where do your personal means lie, Ethan? You said you're helping us because you're not a fan of the injustice the government's thrown on Josh's back. Framing him for a murder. Isn't that letting your ideals interfere with your work?"

"I suppose it is."

"So why help us?"

"Because I want a clean fight. I'll be the first to tell you that the government doesn't always use honest means to get to their ends, however justified those ends may be. I stand with the government in their ideals but not always with their methods. When I found out how they had set up Josh... I couldn't just turn a blind eye and let them get away with it."

"Final straw that broke the camel's back?"

"Pretty much."

"When did you figure out it had to be a setup? You said you didn't know at first that it was Josh, or that it was a framed murder..."

"Actually, when you came into the picture. I had my doubts that Josh was actually a cold blooded killer, but when you snuck into my compound specifically for him and didn't just dissappear over the horizon... I knew there was something wrong. Because you don't seem the type to be an accomplice to a murderer."

"You're right, I'm not. So you figured out that he's not what the media says he is... after you sent us off to that other safehouse?"

Crayfish nodded, and rubbed his mechanical eyes. "I did a little research of my own after you left. Once I knew for sure, I figured it was time to make sure you two didn't end up dead."

"And now that we're here? You going to keep your neck out for us, put your career on the line?" Buzz asked. She didn't figure he would stick around now that they were mostly safe.

"After this, chances are I'll go back to the offices and tell them either you're dead, or you escaped. I'll keep in contact, give you warnings, prod you in the right directions... but I can't physically stay here with you. It's too dangerous," he said. He shrugged apologetically.

"That's enough," she said. "I'm sure we can keep our heads above water on our own, Ethan, so long as this isn't just another set up and we're all dead by morning. But I think I can trust you."

"Well, I'm glad one of you does."

"I'm going to go talk to Josh and Donovan, see what's on their minds... You wait here, and when I call for you come into the livingroom. And bring those sandwhiches."

"Sure thing, boss," Ethan chuckled. Buzz smiled, and turned to leave. "One thing, though... watch out for Alastor... Or Donovan, or whatever he's calling himself. I don't know if I'd trust him."

"He thinks we shouldn't trust you, and you think we shouldn't trust him. But I trust both of you, and that should be enough to keep you two quiet and put your differences away for a while. You and Josh, too... I don't know what went on between the two of you however many years ago, but I think it's time you bury the hatchet. Agreed?"

"Point taken, mechanic. Just be careful."

"I can handle myself, Crawdad."

She left the kitchen, passed through the diningroom, and walked into the livingroom. Josh and Donovan sat on the sofa, ignoring the Zero-G football game that was on the TV screen.

"You two ready to act like civilized people yet? Or should I let you alone for a few more minutes?" she asked, sitting down on the coffee table across from them.
I was so mad, I could have chewed up nails and spit out paper clips.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Wed Aug 11, 2004 12:07 pm

Josh nodded. He'd almost lost it five minutes before, the old arguements had been churned up again, but it had been Ethan's last comment that had nearly driven him over the edge.

"I hold you just as responsible for Eliza's death as the people that planted the bombs!"

He'd wanted to throttle Ethan with his barehands then, his own guilt manifesting itself in frustrated anger. But five minutes on he'd calmed down enough to think that the man had been right. He was just as responsible.

He turned to Donovan. "We can trust Ethan. I know we can, that should be enough for you."

That former hunter didn't let on whether he agreed or not, but Josh turned back to Buzz anyway. "You're right Buzz, if we're gonna keep our heads above water we can't let this sort of thing get in the way."

Buzz smiled and then called Ethan from the kitchen. The man they had known as Crayfish before walked in carrying a plate of sandwhiches that he placed on the table even as Josh stood.

"I'm sorry for everything Ethan. I'm sorry about your wife, and I'm sorry for being an ass."

Ethan took the offered hand. "What happened to Eliza wasn't your fault Josh. I didn't mean that.", then he laughed. "But you are an ass, and that just can't be helped. I guess that goes for the both of us."

"You never did return my Blaster 6 VGC you know." Josh chuckled.

"Yeah and you still owe me three creds from the fourth grade." Ethan released the hand and then stood next to Buzz as everyone helped themselves to the sandwhiches.

"Hey, I'm a little short right now."

Ethan laughed more loudly. "You know, that's exactly what you said the day I asked for it back. And the day after that."

"Hey, I didn't have your parents to.... " , Josh paused as a new memory came to him.

Across from him Ethan looked away, turning his attention to his sandwhich. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Josh spoke again, setting aside his own food and pulling the 9mm from his pocket. He checked the clip, before reloading it, and placing the gun on the table. "Right. We have one gun, unless you have a weapon I'm unaware of Donovan. 9 rounds of ammunition. That's it as far as defenses are concerned, unless there's a sharp knife in the kitchen. What we need right now is information."

He'd changed to a subject that was in his blood, he'd trained in strategy and field ops, and the tone of his voice had changed to a business like manner. Doing this took his mind off the other thoughts, thoughts he didn't want to deal with right at that moment.
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby FalseProphet » Wed Aug 11, 2004 3:38 pm

Donovan resisted the urge to say anything about Josh being whipped by the female mechanic. He nodded in a vague manner, not letting his paranoid belief that they were being led into a trap by "good blood" between Josh, Buzz, and Ethan become broadcast. He did partake in one of the sandwiches offered, listening to Josh talk about needing to take logistical stock of defenses and offenses between them. Donovan reached to the small of his back and withdrew an automatic 9MM from his belt, placing it on the table. Make that 18 rounds between us. He indeed had another weapon, what little magic he could summon at the time, but that wasn't something so easily unholstered.
[center]Now that there is no laughing Kefka for my sig line, I'm resorting to this...[/center]

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Postby Khavi » Wed Aug 11, 2004 5:55 pm

Buzz frowned at the guns on the table, quite unwilling to admit the fact that they would need to use them. Much as it was a good idea to have them around, running around killing people was not exactly a thought that appealed to her tastes.

"Wouldn't want you to feel left out, mechanic," said Ethan suddenly, and from within his jacket he drew a pair of matching, rather large handguns. "One for you," he said, handing one to Buzz, "And one for me."

"I don't think so," she said, starting to pass the pistol back to the agent. He shook his head.

"Yours now, I'm afraid. Last thing we need is you dead, little oilslick. Who do you expect to get any of us out of a tight spot or a car chase?" he said. Buzz sighed, looking down at the gun in her hand. It said 'Desert Eagle, .50' along the barrel.

"Jesus Christ, Crawdad, a D-Eagle?" she said. "I'm not exactly a gun enthusiast, but I know what this thing can do."

"If there's one thing you learn working for the government it's that you want one-shot, one-kills if you can swing them. And unless you want a shotgun, that'll have to do for now," he said, shrugging. "Don't worry, you play our cards right and you won't need it."

She glanced at Josh and Donovan, an eyebrow raised. "We better play our damn cards right," she said, and put the gun down on the table. "Because I do not trust myself to use that thing."

She stood, looked at her three current allies. "Well, now that we seemed to have all kissed and made up, what's out next order of business?"
I was so mad, I could have chewed up nails and spit out paper clips.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Wed Aug 11, 2004 7:26 pm

Joshua pulled the DSD from his pocket and scanned through the entries. When he found what he was looking for he let out a slight exclamation and then smiled. "Not sure how much I can rely on in this thing after the last debacle, but I have an emergency number."

He stood and walked through to the kitchen, placing the DSD on the counter as he picked up the wall-mounted phone. He lit a cigarette as he dialled the number, taking a few drags as the line beeped, and then finally clicked.

"Hello?" , the voice that answered was young and femenine.

"Can I ask who's speaking?" Josh didn't want to reveal anything until he was sure this was really someone that could help him.

"Hey you called me jerk-off! How about you tell me who the hell you are, and then we'll go from there."

"Josh."

".."

"Hello?"

"Half an hour. Newspaper stand on 5th street. Come alone."

"5th street? Wait.. what's your name?"

A click and then the line went dead.

Joshua replaced the reciever and took another drag stewing over the short conversation. Paranoia suggested that it could be yet another trap. But he needed a contact. He placed the DSD back in his pocket and rejoined the others in the living room.

"I have a meeting at 5th street in half an hour." , he said as he picked up his gun from the table and tucked it into his belt. The others were already beginning to stand and follow as he grabbed a jacket from the coatstand out in the hallway. "I have to go alone."

"I don't think so." , said Buzz. "Are you forgetting the last little contact?"

"No. But I'm not taking any chances on losing this one. If it goes awry I'll be back."
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby FalseProphet » Wed Aug 11, 2004 9:12 pm

What makes you think that whoever it is will give you the chance to get back here? May I at least suggest that you have one of us trail behind, act as an insurance policy? Donovan expected that Josh would say somethign as ludicrously brave like "that's the way it has to be," or, "No, they'll know something's up and it'll be fucked up." He sighed briefly and shook his head. I suppose I can't convince you to take backup, and if you think this'll get you closer to the cause, then I won't stop you. Just don't get yourself maimed or worse. I don't think that I could handle Buzz's stages of coping with death. After all, one of them is anger.

Godspeed, Josh, and come back with something worthwhile.
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Postby Malitar McKrenna » Sun Aug 15, 2004 11:42 pm

He looked up at her sad eyes, and found he could not resist the urge to reach up and put his palm gently on her cheek. He did not know how deep this group they were hunting for actually went. Heck, he did not even know whom they served. He was guessing the Church of Entropy, but there were the possibilities of them being Government or even Resistance thugs.

By the stars, I have a lot set in front of me, but I can not blame little Christine for any of it, I have dished it up for myself. If we get in too deep, we should be safe... as long as my friends keep their words.

He smiled at her as his stomach growled loudly. It seemed it was time for them to head out into the world. First for food, then for danger. It was proving to be one hell of a week for him.

"Well, let's go get us some grub, little one. We'll see if they'll allow us into one of them fancy restaurants. You know, the one's where the guy has his nose so high up that he's sniffing the ceiling tiles."

He winked and grinned at her, and then hopped out of the pilot's chair with his glasses firmly in hand. The plan was to visit a rather uppity restaurant, and leave little hints with some of the workers there. It was a tip given to him by a couple of his friends. They were not sure if it would actually prove to be worth the time, but they were positive it would get some sort of attention. He only hoped it was the right sort.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trip to the restaurant went rather quickly. Malitar finally understood the situation that Cricket was in, and had opted for speed instead of leisure. He had rented a rather decent car from the Landing Port, and got them to their destination in a just a few minutes. The walk would have taken them almost an hour, and Mal had decided that was too long for Christine to be exposed to the elements of the city. It most definitely calmed her nerves, and she was thankful for the chance to be able to move around much quicker than before. Malitar had even thought to get a vehicle with tinted windows, that made it so outsiders would have a hard time trying to see anyone that was inside the vehicle.

When they entered, they were a bit surprised to find that the maitre' d would seat them almost immediately. He was a friendly older chap with a flair for conversation. He spoke of the latest news, and anything else that rattled on through his gray haired head.

Instead of taking the initiative to drop some hints, Malitar stayed rather quiet as the man talked. He was trying to get the updates on what was going on throughout the city, and had found that most of the talk was about a man named Giselle. After the mention of something bad happening at a bank, the maitre' d walked off. He had ended the conversation just as soon as they were seated. Malitar was almost disappointed, the news helped him get an idea of how careful they would have to be when questioning people.

It seemed rather safe, actually. Most of the officials would be concentrating on finding this Giselle character, and probably not paying as much attention to the rest of their targets. For now. It was a nice time to give out his hints.

With that in his mind, he looked at Cricket, "I'll be back, I'm going to get us some drinks from the bartender, and send out some feelers."

With that, he walked up to the bar, and began a conversation with the bartender, who turned out to know a bit more than he should have.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Mon Aug 16, 2004 6:44 pm

The streetlight flickered, sporadically illuminating him with it's harsh glare. The street itself was empty, the newspaper cart locked up and abandoned for the night by it's owner and he hadn't seen a car pass once down this deserted one way lane in over twenty minutes.

The wind had picked up, and thunder had boomed overhead, heralding the first drips of rain and Josh had pulled up the collar on the beige overcoat and fastened it tighter over his black grey sleeveless top.

He lit a cigarette and took a few quick drags as he waited with a growing mixture of impatience and aprehension. Was this another trap? If it was surely the agents would have jumped him by now, knowing full well that he had the DSD. He cursed his stupidity then at bringing it with him. At least if he had left it with the others there would still have been a card to play in the worse case scenario of a set-up.

The click of heels on the pavement behind him brought him back to the present and a quick jolt of adrenaline flooded his veins, his fists tightening with the feel of the extra power at his command. He turned around and spotted the tall woman making her way over towards him. She was scarcely dressed in a short black skirt that came to midthigh that revealed the straps for her mauve stockings. A lacey vest-top was cut low accentuating a full round chest beneath an open small leather jacket.

Josh shook his head as he took in the heavy rouge on her cheeks and the bright red lipstick she wore, a circle of it marking her cigarette. She stopped at the streetlight down from him and leant back, one hand behind her back actually touching the metal, the other bringing the cigarette to her lips for a drag as she crossed one ankle over the other.

She glanced his way, then looked back down the street before returning her gaze to him and dropping her cigarette to the floor. She blew him a kiss and then traced her finger down between her breasts lascivously, running her tongue over her lips suggestively.

Another crack of thunder and the rain quickened and grew heavier, lashing down at the ground, soaking the girls blonde hair which she flicked out of her blue eyes, grinning up at the sky as if in defiance of the storm. She turned back to him and blew him yet another kiss and beckoned him over.

Josh discarded his sodden cigarette butt and cursed his luck. This girl looked little more than a common streetwalker.. but then again. What if she was the contact.

"Hey sugar.. you got a place a poor girl could get dried up?" , her voice was light, almost musical, unlike the voice that had answered him on the phone.

"Go home." , he shouted back over the thunder, turning away to look down to the end of the lane. Just his luck.

"Come on honey, no need to be so rough with little ol' me... not unless you like it that way..." , she called as her heels clicked over the pavement towards him.

He turned round ready to shout at her again, only to see that she was shaking her head and waving a small revolver at him. She got in close, pressing the gun into his stomach as her other hand snaked round his waist. "Sweetheart, I can take you all the way to heaven and back, all for a price.", she said loud enough over the noise of the storm that anyone along the street would hear.

"Well.. I guess when you put it like that. Where would you like to go."

"Oh just here will do." , so saying she pulled him gently into an alleyway and then ushered him up against a wall. "So..." , she continued, her voice dropping a tone as if she'd discarded an act that had played it's part. It was the same tone as the phone voice. "Are you Josh Dyre, or are you John Doe?"

"How about is this another set-up or am I actually talking to someone that's going to help me?" , Josh replied.

There was the sound of a click as the gun was cocked and then "How about you stick to answering my questions?"

Josh narrowed his gaze on the woman. "Joshua Alexander Dyre."

"You don't look like your profile."

"Hey, you try running from the cops, the hunters and the mafia and see how you look after a week or so."

"Cocky aren't we." , she chuckled. "Take off your jacket.", she continued, the edge back in her voice. She stepped back a pace to give him room.

He unfastened the coat and drew it off his shoulders before letting it slip to the floor. The rain quickly soaked the t-shirt, chilling him.

"Turn around and take off the top too."

He did so, feeling the gun being removed from his belt as the cold rain stung his flesh. He turned back round when she told him to and watched as she chucked his gun down the alleyway, never letting her own weapon leave him. "Cute." , she smiled. "Well at least you don't look like you're carrying a wire, I'm guessing I don't have to search you any further, I didn't bring the rubber gloves with me on this one. How did you get my number?"

"My DSD. It had you tagged as an emergency contact number."

"Good, we're learning to answer questions like a good little boy. Do you have the device with you?"

He took a moment to answer, he felt like saying no, but any reason to distrust him would give the woman little choice but to make him a John Doe. "Yes." , he dug into his trouser pocket and slowly removed the device before handing it to her.

"Hmm. Let me look at this.", she glanced down at the device from time to time, still keeping one eye on him, as she pressed a few buttons. "My God..... ", she breathed. She relaxed her arm. "Super soldiers... You keep this.", she handed it back to him, and then withdrew a small tubular device from her jacket. Without warning she jabbed him with it and he felt a momentary stab of pain. He winced inwardly, but smiled when a diode on the device turned green.

"There. Are we cool now?"

She nodded. "Your DNA matches your stored file.", she holstered her gun inside her jacket, then replaced the tubular device before drawing a cell phone from the other pocket. She pressed this into his hand. "You'll be called tomorrow. Keep the DSD safe till then." That said she gave him a kiss on the cheek and then walked back down to 5th street.

He took a deep breathe and exhaled with relief. He was chilled and soaked to the bone, but he had finally managed to make contact with the resistance. He picked up his clothes and walked in the opposite direction pulling the sodden items back on and stooping briefly to retrieve his weapon.

Just as he was about to turn out onto sixth street a pain wracked him in his chest and he fell to one knee, his clenched fist hitting the ground. His heart thumped rapidly, faster than it did when he was fighting, it felt fit to burst and his temperature leapt sky high. He felt a pain like an explosion in the back of his head and his bones stiffened in his body as if a current had been passed through him.

He almost blacked out, and he felt as if this was his last moment, his last breathe... then it passed and he was breathing heavily. It had been worse than before, both in it's force and it's velocity. Whatever was inside him needed that drug. Whatever drug it was that allowed his body to accept the implant, was fading out of his system.

He stood but staggered as if he was drunk, finally feeling the wall at his back and leaning there for a time until he felt the pull, or at least something that felt like the pull. A similar feeling to the one he had had when Ruther called for him from the hospital.

But, he realised, looking to where his 'brother' stood grinning at him, it had not been so much as a pull as a proximity warning.

"Kelbecki's dead." Ruther said simply. "His control over me is gone."

Joshua tried to regain his strength, but the exhuastion raced through him as it always did. "Then... then you can decide what to do from here... you could join us...", he breathed. Ruther was the only unlinkable thread, the only thing he could not work out. He didn't have a brother. The records stated that and Ethan had also helped him remember that. They were so alike though. Clones?.. No. He was the original, if there was a clone, it had to be Ruther. It went some way to explaining why Ruther was so unstable.

"No. Dear brother. I cannot join you, but neither shall I be your enemy. I am man's saviour. I have realised this in the Doctor's passing. His death has opened my eyes."

Josh played for time, wondering whether or not he could risk going for his gun, knowing that Ruther had the power to disable the weapon it would have to be a very fast on target shot. "What have you realised Ruther?"

"That we are the death of this world. We are the extra weight that unbalances the scales and creates disharmony and chaos. God cursed the planet in the hopes that man would die, in the hope that the world could then be reborn. Yet still we survive and corrupt and destroy.", Ruther took a few steps closer as he spoke. "And so I shall complete the task that God could not. I shall be his Angel of Death.", Ruther laughed as lightning flashed and thunder rolled.

"Your mad Ruther... you can't kill everyone."

"Oh dear brother... I have found a way. You shall see.. soon enough. I shall sit up at God's right hand and aid him in the creation of the new world!" Ruther turned about raising his arms and his gaze to the sky.

It was time to act. Josh reached round to where his gun was tucked into his belt, tore it free in a split second and then brought it back round to level it on.... nothing.

The alleyway was empty. "That's it. I've had enough of this shit for one day. I'm going home."

He tucked the gun away again, walked out onto sixth street and a few minutes later finally rejoined the main road. A taxi cab ride later he was back at the safe house and ready to fill the others in on the night's events.
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby FalseProphet » Tue Aug 17, 2004 12:14 pm

Donovan had been leaning back in one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room, thinking to himself. He thought about his past and how he was going to enjoy having the final bits of government interferance out of his body. A crackling bolt of lightning filled the windows with solar brilliance. Storms hadn't been like this for awhile, this bad. He couldn't help but wonder if it was some kind of omen.

He debated about calling Laila, to talk like old times, maybe weedle some of the Resistance information out of her for less than a million credits, or just talk like normal people.

Normal was hardly a word to describe himself or his former lover. He was a wielder of the "old ways", the dangerous knowledge of the past. She was a woman with cat ears in place of human ears. It worked out in some strange way. He wondered if she would mind what he was planning on doing with the Resistance information.

Several times he stared at the cordless phone in his lap, then back up into the cealing. Just as he was about to dial her number, a knock came from the door. He answered it, and found a dripping Josh on the steps. Stepping aside, Donovan let the brawler in. Why is it that it always rains when this sort of "back alley dealings" happen? It's almost cliche. He smirked at Josh, but saw that he was in no mood for his strange sense of humor from the dark look in his eyes. Eheh. Was this a profitable enterprise, Josh? You seem less than enthralled.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Tue Aug 17, 2004 6:26 pm

Josh gave the hunter a dark glance before stalking passed him. "Oh I'm great", he said, the words saturated with sarcasm as he shucked of his coat, chucking it on the stand and swept down the hall to the bathroom. He returned a moment later, shirtless, drying his hair and chest with a towel.

"You ever had the feeling it was just not going to be your week." , he continued, perching himself on the back of the sofa.

"All the time" Donovan replied with a wry smile.

"We have a contact. We'll receive a call sometime tomorrow, until then we just have to keep our heads down here and get some rest." He lit up and looked over at the tv as he spoke, taking a drag as he half watched some late night soap opera. The news would be on in a few moments, he wanted to find out what else had been reported.

"Sounds like good news to me." , the hunter's voice pulled his attention back over.

"It is." , he said simply.

"Then why do you look as if somebody's gone and kicked you in the nuts, then robbed your grandmother?"

"It's nothing. Just some ghosts refuse to just lay down and die." , he took another drag and looked around the room, down the hallway and on to the kitchen. Finally he turned back to Donovan. "Where's Buzz?"
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby FalseProphet » Tue Aug 17, 2004 6:49 pm

OOC: I gotta say, that's the most damn funny line I've never said XDDD "Then why do you look as if somebody's gone and kicked you in the nuts, then robbed your grandmother?" That's awesome.

IC: Buzz is upstairs, taking a rest. I had to practically pry the woman from the chair when it was my time to keep an ear out for your return. He cracked his neck from side to side. I'm used to working with no rest; comes with my old job description. I know you know that routine, given that wonderful supersoldier program of yours.

*sigh* I hate having to be on tenderhooks about this kind of stuff. What happened to the good old days when you could just make someone tell you all the information you needed?


There were no "good old days".

Sure there were, Donovan smirked. There was a time in this world that people weren't scuttling around in an attempt to eke out a half-assed existance. They didn't live in fear or poverty or any of that, and there was no need for men like us, the super soldiers, the living weapons.

You always live in a fantasy world, or is this new?

Donovan laughed. I just still have a hope that this'll all end soon. I'm not serious when I say that we used to live in some Golden Age, but I am serious when I say that there'll be a time, soon I hope, that we living weapons are made obsolete.

But that's all beside the point. We have our foot in the door, and I just hope that we don't miss the call for one reason or another.
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Postby Cricket » Wed Aug 18, 2004 9:51 am

She wasn't terribly comfortable sitting at the table by herself, but it had nothing to do with feeling vulnerable and in danger. Malitar had taken care that she not be exposed to too many people's sight and she was actually feeling fairly safe, considering what they had planned. Her discomfort was entirely due to feeling underdressed and out of her "class" range. Everyone nearby was dressed in what, to her, was the highest possible fashion. The couple at the talbe next to her had studiously ignored her presence, their noses just a little higher in the air. Their attempts to ignore her unwelcome presence actually made it easier though- even if it made her uncomfortable.

She was able to listen to the different conversations going on around her without too much fear of people noticing her interest- since they were so pointedly trying not to notice her. Most of the conversation had to do with the encroachment of the outer city onto the inner city. How else to explain the rash of killings, robbery's, and other shenanigans that had occurred in the last few weeks? And every conversation eventually mentioned Giselle. She wondered who this Giselle was and what he had done.

She smiled to herself ruefully. She wasn't even sure what she had done to get herself into her predictament- other than just being what she was- and she really didn't have time to worry about some man she'd never met before. But it wouldn't hurt to keep her ears open. Anyone that had drawn that much attention to themselves, was someone to keep track of. Especially when you were doing your best not to draw attention to your own self.

She glanced up as Malitar returned from the bar, carrying two cocktails. The look on his face was hard to read, but it was obvious he had learned something.

What is it?

She took the drink with a smile and tried not to look anxious.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Wed Aug 18, 2004 12:04 pm

Josh listened to all Donovan said with a wry smile. The hope that one day weapons like them would be obsolete was a hope he guessed a lot of the populous shared. But what then?

"But that's all beside the point. We have our foot in the door, and I just hope that we don't miss the call for one reason or another."

Josh stepped over to his coat and withdrew the cell-phone and placed it on the table before reseating himself on the back of the sofa and setting the towel aside. "As long as we hear this going off we won't miss the call." He said before finishing the cigarette and putting it out in the ashtray.

He found himself looking at the scars he carried, a mixture of old fading white scars and fresh recently healed red marks. The gunshot wounds in particular grabbed his attention. Had Ethan used some high tech healing equipment to repair them, or had it been his own mutated abilities.

He thought again on Donovan's previous words and finally said "If weapons like us become obsolete then what happens to us? I've known little more than fighting, struggle, death. Killing. You too I'm sure.", he stared at his hands. "I'm not sure I could get ever get used to a life settled down with a wife and dog and a gaggle of kids."

He laughed a little when he said that, remembering the previous safehouse and noticing that he was still wearing the wedding band. Then his laughing abruptly stopped. "What if this is all we can ever do Donovan? What if this is all we were meant to do? And like machinery that has outlived it's use, we find ourselves chucked on the slag-heap."

"You know." , he continued, before the hunter could respond, pulling the gun from his belt and placing it on the table. "I can use and strip down any weapon you could name. I know more than seven forms of martial art, countless ways of killing someone with whatever's to hand. I know battle tactics, field medicine, espionage strategies... and yet I can't even cook or dance or relax. I've never painted or read poetry, I couldn't even name a single constellation in the sky, or tell you the name of a song that was playing." He sighed. "I am a weapon. And when weapons are no longer required...", he left the sentence hanging.
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby FalseProphet » Thu Aug 19, 2004 3:56 am

It's a scary thought, I know. Donovan stretched his neck from side to side. I don't claim to believe in God, higher beings, fate or karma. That gives us no choice, and I refuse to believe in having no choice. I have a choice to kill or to befriend, to destroy or to construct, to live or to die or to live as someone else. Everyone has those choices, because everyone is alive, and that includes you the last time I checked.

Life is a learning experience, Joshua. Ceasing to learn leads to the decay you fear so much. Were we given a capacity to learn for the sake of folly? No.

If this fighting, this conflict is all you and I are good for, my friend, then we need to learn some new tricks. I know we both have our reasons for living, or else we would have given up a long time ago, don't you think? You don't strike me as the greedy type or the power hungry warrior, and such concepts as justice or freedom, as romantic and preferable as they are, are impractical.

Buzz, maybe?
Donovan scratched his chin curiously.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Thu Aug 19, 2004 7:49 pm

"Buzz, maybe?"

Joshua looked down at his hands after Donovan said those two words. Buzz. He noticed the news was starting, but right then he couldn't care less. He stood and walked over to the hallway and as an afterthought turned and said. "Donovan, if there is one thing I'm certain of... its that she doesn't deserve any of this."

He turned and continued down the hallway and then up the stairs. There were two doors here, both he imagined leading to bedrooms, but one was open and he moved towards that one. A little illumination issued from a bed-side table lamp, and the form of the mechanic was easy to see, wrapped up as she was in the bedsheets and propped up on pillows.

From the way that she had fallen asleep sitting up, he guessed she'd been waiting for him to return and he sighed to himself and then walked over to take a seat at her side.

The pressure in the bed stirred her from her slumber and she looked up wearily, wiping her eyes. "Hey you...", she yawned, smiling.

"Hey" , he replied simply. "Just escaped a philosophical convo with the hunter downstairs. You ok?"
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby Malitar McKrenna » Thu Aug 19, 2004 10:19 pm

"Well, I got some tips on how to contact someone. Not sure who it is, but the story seems to jive with the one's that we were told about at the stations. Circles within circles, it seems."

He sighed, and took a drink before he continued, "I've gotten some sort of an e-mail address. I'm supposed to send an e-mail with a certain phrase in it, and wait. That's it, wait."

He looked down at the table, feeling as if he had disappointed Cricket. He absent-mindedly slid his hand into his pocket, and pulled out his own little PDA, an connected it to the Net. He had already sent the message before he even realized that he had done so.

His mind was wandering too much. He worried about not being able to help Christine. He worried about what kind of trouble they might be stepping into, trying to contact someone they knew nothing about. He thought about how tasty the steak would be, when they finally got it ordered, and then served. He thought back to the night that Drew had serenaded the two of them. He yearned for space, no problems like this. Simply worrying about pirates like Mantella, and taunting the ones that were just beginning their trade, and had not learned to watch out for his ship.

He loved those fools. They tried to chase him down, board his ship, or just plain be intimidating. Malitar had an unnatural skill with his ship, partially because of his practically making the ship from scratch. It did what he wanted it to do. It even did some things that ships were not supposed to do, unless they were in some sort of a racing league. Well, Malitar supposed he was in some sort of a racing league. Race to get the cargo, race to the destination point, doing it in as little time as possible, and keep away from the real pirates.

He chewed his lower lip. The real pirates. He had met plenty of them, and tangled with many more. The only one that he worried about, was Mantella. They had tangled once. Just once. It was a fluke, Mantella had been after bigger prey, and Malitar had felt he was good enough to stop Mantella's attempt.

He had almost been right. Though, he would have lost his ship, and his own life, to completely stop the bandit. He had only been able to distract the pirate from the prey. At the end, Mantella had allowed Mal to limp off to repair his ship. What the miscreant had done after that, Mal did not know. After that time, Mal steered wide when he knew the brigand was in the area.

He finally looked up at Cricket, who seemed to be stifling a giggle. "What is it, little one?"

Nothing, Mal. It's just that you have seemed to turn into a statue. It scared the daylights out of the waiter when he came to take our order. I do hope you like your steak medium rare.

He smiled at her, allowing his eyes to take in as much as they could process. When she was happy, and open, she was a brilliant light in the darkness of Malitar's life. She sat there, unknowing, and outshining everyone else in the restaurant.
The stars never seem so distant, as when I am flying past.
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Postby Khavi » Sat Aug 21, 2004 6:18 am

Buzz had slid off to one of the bedrooms after being repeatedly prodded at by Donovan to do so. She had reluctantly trudged up the stairs, not willing to miss Josh's eventualy return. He had gone off into the night to meet a mystery contact that they had absolutely no information on. How were they supposed to know if this person was safe? Sane? Trustworthy?

As she had fought exhaustion and the ache in her shoulder Buzz convinced herself that Joshua would be fine. He could handle himself in a tight situation, that much she knew. But that didn't stop her from worrying herself to sleep.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she stirred awake, but she was pleasently surprised to be greeted by Joshua's wearily smiling face.

"Hey, you..." she said, smiling equally tiredly and swiping her hand across her eyes.

"Hey," he said, a simple reply. "Just escaped a philosophical conversation with the hunter downstairs. You ok?"

Buzz nodded a little, still groggy. "I'm all right... Though Donovan doesn't strike me as the type for philosophical conversation." She stretched, yawning widely and rotating her shoulders. "How was your contact? Not violent, I hope. Or working for the wrong side."

Although, she thought absently, I have no idea which side is the wrong one. She entertained similar thoughts as Joshua told her a little about what had happened that night. Buz really wasn't sure which side she was supposed to sympathize with, because at this point neither seemed particularly appetizing to her.

"Well, it doesn't seem like she was a hostile," Buzz said when Josh finished his story. "After all, you're still around, right? That's one more night we have safe under our belts."

"I hope so," Josh murmured. "So what did you do after I left?"

"Sat in the kitchen and chatted with Crayfish for a little while... You know, he's really not such a bad guy when you talk to him a while. If all this Government-Resistance shit wasn't going on, I could see the lot of us in a poolhall somewhere," she said, laughing a little. "But I suppose that sort of scene is a long way off, now."

Buzz moved out from beneath her shroud of bedsheets, and moved so Josh could fit all the way with her on the bed. Outside it had begun raining again, and thunder cracked in the distance. The light flickered once, but stayed on.

'Hope the power doesn't go out," Josh remarked. Buzz smiled.

"Me too," she said, and leaned over to switch off the lamp. "Then the alarm clocks wouldn't work." She lay back, looking up at the ceiling in the dark.

"If you don't mind my asking, what sort of philosophical trouble could you and dear old Hunter have gotten into? Neither of you are exactly what I would call the next Socrates, Knuckleduster. None of us, actually, would quite earn that title..." She smiled to herself. "Though I suppose we could try."
I was so mad, I could have chewed up nails and spit out paper clips.
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Postby Joshua Dyre » Sat Aug 21, 2004 8:15 pm

"Yeah I'm sure we could..." , Joshua was staring up at the ceiling without knowing that Buzz was doing the same. The reply had been simple, he just wanted to avoid the real answer to her question for a while. Long enough for him to really decide what that answer was.

Donovan had been spot on. It was Buzz. She was the only thing that allowed him to escape from being a weapon. She touched him in ways that he'd never entertained before. It just seemed so unlikely. That a resitance fighter, come agent, come knuckleduster could ever fall for a grease stained, yet beautiful, spunky mechanic. There was a touch of fate there, something he would probably never understand, but it was there.

He turned and smiled at where he imagined she was in the dark and then said. "It was about what we are. Donovan and I are pretty slim on social lives. It was about the future, after all this is said and done."

"And what did you come up with?" The sound of the voice centered his vew of where Buzz actually was in the dark.

"That I'm more or less where I want to be.."

"And where's that?" , Buzz's question was laced. It was almost as if he'd said "we were discussing whether or not the sky is blue". She knew the answer. She just wanted to hear it.

Josh laughed. "Sitting up in bed next to a grease monkey mechanic chick, who hopefully doesn't mind sitting next to a knuckleduster."
I'm an expert on shakespeare,
And that's a hell of a lot,
But the world don't need scholars,
As much as I thought.

"You tell me where Josh is, or I won't just give you a scene, I'll give you the whole goddamn stage play!"
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Postby Karen Trent » Sun Aug 22, 2004 1:51 am

"Do I really have to ride the bus, Mom?" Jason, Karen's oldest son of fifteen whined as he sat down for a quick breakfast. "All of my friends ride with Daniel in his new car." Karen sighed and shook her head. This wasn't the first time he had asked her this, and somehow she knew it wouldn't be the last. No matter how many times she pointed out that Daniel already had been in ten wrecks and had received as many if not more tickets for traffic violations, Jason just was too eager to grow up and be cool.

"You've asked me this before, Jason," she answered wearily as she poured glasses of milk for all three of her children and returned the carton to the refridgerator. "The answer hasn't changed since then, so you can stop asking me. I just don't think it's safe." She walked back to the table and toyed with Jackson's hair as she spoke. Her younger son grumbled a little but didn't squirm out of reach as she suspected he would do in the coming years. He was beginning to hit the age where he loved and hated how she doted on him, and wasn't exactly sure how to act. Whatever he chose to do, Karen wanted to monoploize what time she had left before she became the enemy of both of her sons.

"Momma..." Little Sally's less than dulcet voice chimed out from across the table, Karen looked up, her fingers freezing for a moment in Jackson's hair. He took that chance to get up to put his clean plate in the sink and try to smooth his hair back to his head. Satisfied that she had her mother's full attention, Sally continued speaking, her eyes wandering around the kitchen restlessly. "Ms. Unger says that the school is re...re insta..." The seven year old bit her lip trying to remember the word.

"Reinstating?" Karen offered.

"Yeah, reinstating." Sally took a bite of her toast and muched on it thoughtfully while Karen did her best to wait patiently for her rather absent-minded daughter to continue. the woman had learned over the years not to rush the girl. After what seemed like ages of silence in the breakfast room, Sally swallowed her toast, took a casual sip of milk and returned her attentions to her mother. "They're reinstating the old 'Take your child to work' days. They're making it so you have to do it." Karen's jaw dropped, and she looked at her sons who were silently confirming what their sister had said.

"And just how do they expect a family like ours to handle such a thing?" Karen asked, but Sally had already gone back to her spaced out chewing.

"To make it easier on larger families, no parent should take more than two children," the usually quiet Jackson offered, but when Karen's faced began going red, he made a soft squeaking noise and mumbled something about that being what the teachers had said. Karen opened her mouth to make some sort of response when she heard the bus honking outside. Both of her boys scrambled for their bookbags and ran to the door far faster than usual, her daughter slowly following them.

She stared after them, only moving to clean up the remnants of their breakfasts when she heard the buss pull away from their home. She checked the clock on their coffee-maker. 7:00. Mark would be coming downstairs after his shower in a few minutes, so she quickly began making another breakfast for him. Just as she was pouring the milk into his bowl of cereal, he walked into the kitchen area, slipping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. Karen couldn't help but smile and lean back into him. Even after nearly twenty years of marriage he still made her knees feel like jello.

"How's my favorite lady this morning?" She turned in his arms and gave him a lingering kiss. He tasted like his mouthwash and smelled like a pleasant mixture of his soap and his aftershave. She smiled and grabbd his breakfast, nudging him to the table.

"She's feeling a little less than lady-like." Mark raised an inquisitive brow, so she explained what she had just learned from their children. It wouldn't be too difficult for Mark to take two of them to work with him. He was the vice president of one of the biggest insurance agencies in the city. Most of their cases dealt with the Church of Entropy, but Mark tried his best to ignore that, though he knew better than to voice his less than spiritual opinions. Karen, however, worked directly for the government in the communications division coordinating the efforts of the varying forms of Mage Control. Most of her work was top secret, and she couldn't take a child with her into the compound where her office was housed.

"Don't worry about it, Kar," he said finishing off his cereal and leaning over to kiss her cheek. "We'll get it sorted, I'm sure. But now I've got to run to work." He stood and straightened his tie, and Karen stood with him.

"Actually I do, too. The way the press is covering this Giselle case, we've been getting a lot of false leads. I need to hurry in to direct traffic." They exchanged perfunctory kisses and went in opposite directions to get to work.

The drive was fairly uneventful. Being a high powered government employee meant having access to roads with far less traffic to get to work. Karen showed ID at the appropriate places and navigated the various corridors until she reached the communication center. She nodded at the various people who worked in her division before going into her office and collapsing into her chair.

'What a morning...three new gray hairs, a new stretch mark, children needing to come to work with me, and I turn forty in three days. This day better get better from here.'
Karen Trent
Communications Supervisor - Mage Division

Sometimes Mild Mannered Mother of Three and Defender of the Civilized World!
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