Gothic City [CVnU Location]

@pyrogram:

"Ooooh, that looks like it hurts!" Warspool chortled as he hobbled on a single good ankle.

"Hm, there was something I was supposed to say before I did that but it's more of a finishing one-liner, you know? Sort of like "Lights Out!" or... or... huh, not really many catchphrases in the world are there?"

Lost in his own thoughts, the red and black-garbed degenerate hardly focused on the incoming reverse-bearhug the archer entrapped him in.

"Wow, you got a mean grip there! I mean, if you want we can go back to my place for some coffee or - "

And just like that, his quips were cut short as an arrow dug deep inside of his spine just between the vertebrae, perfectly placed as to puncture into the fluid.

"Ooop, there go the legs," and he fell onto the ground, slamming his head into the pavement.

"Huh, last time I felt this wobbly I was in Atlantic City with your mom,"

With his hands still fully functional, he tried reaching for the arrow by awkwardly rolling around and flailing behind him for a quick grip.

"Wow, this is the weirdest reacharound I've ever had,"

Finally, he managed a handful of arrow shaft and ripped it out of his back, but by then he was already standing due to the healing factor repairing his spine around the arrowhead itself. The resulting re-cutting of his spine sent a shiver down his body, but it stitched back together and all he could manage was a euphoric groan.

"Oooh, like I said we could just go back to my place. Doing this on the sidewalk is kinda weird, but whatever you're into baby - I'll support you,"

Without skipping a beat, he went into a spin kick only to be met with a fistful of electrical current slamming directly into his groin. On complete accident, Warspool fell once more to the ground but hopped up almost instantly due to the shock running through his system like a cheap energy drink.

"Woah! Ha! We just met and you're already on third base? You Brits work fast, or are you from 'Strailia? I swear, you sound like a twelve year old either way."

Finding fistfighting the archer to be a somewhat unwise decision considering the streak of bad luck he had encountered thus far, the assassin removed one of his swords from its scabbard on his back, taking a low and aggressive stance to better counter whatever his opponent had in store for him next.

@thisisgonnahurt:

Good instincts, retreating from a mutant that can conjure things in hand-to-hand... But not nearly a good enough plan.

With a little smirk Kurt instantly manifest his green bow, arrow and uniform in the blink of an eye.

A boxing glove, made of pure steel manifest onto the top of his arrow as the Green Archer took what little aim he had to do and fired at point blank range. The arrow sped at Warpool like a train and aimed straight for his chin: Kurt knew the man could regenerate but that said... It was an amusing attack, to say the least.

With no time wasted he manifest another arrow and fired, this time seeking to entangle around the man's ankles with a rope materialized as strong as adamantium. One of the boons of being able to literally conjure whatever his mind wanted. Adamantium arrows? Vibranium knives? A freaking black hole at the tip of an arrow?

All a thought away...

Her thoughts as the world came crashing down around her.

It had been impossible to escape from, Gothic had been hit harder then ever before and she was just another victim of circumstance. Trapped in a building as it was bathed in radiation and shaken apart not long after the architect was deconstructed with as much ease as she usually saw brought about to her foes. She could still smell burning flesh from her arms that'd been scorched to the bone. That phantom pain that ran through her body as she tried to move. Her legs though had been gone crushed beneath granite and stone. She woke in a medical bed it now being months sense then but the memories were of course still fresh in her mind and a plague upon the nights.

The rhythm of countless machines beeping of status of herself and others filled the wing. Nurses ran back and forth drowning in work, they had better gear and a more complete staff by the looks of things. Effort to make Gothic great again was clear to see, it was all a facade though. Hopeful and spirited Aren had been in the time before, now though that was gone. She'd gotten used to see the faults in things that's what her tie to the force was. Observing the cracks and faults in everything Aren couldn't look at the carnage in a positive light. Old news to the world the wounds were fresh to her and it disgusted her.

With her mind the telkenetic lifted up the paperwork beside the bed. Looking at X-rays and documents she could find her own cracks. The countless splinters and broken bones and tired of waiting she'd repair them on her own. Teeth would grind in pain but it was enough she could endure. As she let the paper work take flight parting from an open window she reached out again this time to a table not to far away. The Covenant had provided prosthetic limbs before they departed, Lady Coven concluding this world not worth the time any more. And for the amputee it was the equivalent to a gift from God before denying right to rapture.

Crushing as it was the gift would be taken, a hiss cut the air as cybernetics latched to stumps. More pain floods the body as needles sink in connecting nerves to machine and skin and muscle adapt to the cold of steel. But it sickened her, the symmetry wasn't there. She was an architect, a builder and these parts were flawed it wouldn't do. Reaching out with a mechanized hand she grasped a series of cylinders broken weapons of the force users of before. They were great, but she needed to distance herself from that life. Discarding the hilts only a series of gems and coiling wires was to be taken.

Tying it into the mechanized parts her limbs came to life by apearing to be set aflame. From skeletal machinery sprung symmetry to her body that had been gone a day before. And with enough of a focus that energy was tamed turned into hands and feet of plasma controlled enough to touch harmlessly but cackling for ruin.

As Aren got to her feet and readied to leave however of course objection came. Her doctor begged her to stay put, that limbs needed to adjust and tests needed to be done. Aren however refused to hear it, a palm resting on his chest to keep him away. Her mind reached out as well to scan the mind to see who the doctor was an instinctive action with sour results. "Of course your broken to." That familiar scent of charred flesh was made a new as her hand of plasma flared up and a whole was burned into the place of the heart. Taking a black coat from a wounded hacker that'd been recovering beside her Aren stepped over the body leaping from the open window.

The parkour Phoenix had risen again her arms glowing neon light like blazing wings. As to what end however remained to be seen as a new path had to be forged.

(>.> mixed feelings on it but I need to get back to rp. Will be working on bio updates soon hopefully)

Blinded by arrogant ambition and hereditary entitlement, I was unable-or willing to see my father for what he truly was. My entire family linage is a lie. One that was stumbled upon while preparing to defend Gothic against a militant minded administration hell bent on 'saving' the city. It was then and only then that I could free myself from the shackles of blood-based relationships. In that moment of self-exploration an idea was formed. Meticulously molded into a methodical forgery of death. My, death. At the time I questioned the very sanity of such an act. The logistics, as well as the problematic position of monetary forfeitures. But the city was doomed. I failed to understand just how true that was, as such details were yet outside my scope of understanding.

Entirely focused on the threat of forced integration, never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that my city's ultimate destruction would come in the form of 'unsanctioned' galactic terrorism. But I know better.

Somehow in Gothic's darkest hour, there was a complete and unfathomable breakdown of military resistance. The administration had failed to intercept the space born threat. As satellite after satellite rotated around the Earth the United States had failed to identity an approaching threat from the stars? A laughable cover-story for the weak minded and mentally malnourished. After all, had they not defended the Earth against such threats before? Had they not established a stellar track record of victories? Yet Gothic had somehow managed to slip through the cracks. Who evacuates an entire city coincidentally moments before its obliterated from space?

It was inevitable really, the destruction of Gothic. But still my sister foolishly remained to defend the Strix name, the legacy. In her attempts to protect what she believed to be, on principle, one of the founding families-her family, she was killed. And my brother Absalom, beloved mayor, simply vanished. The aftermath of which saw my 'father' pull up stakes and retreat to the seclusion of his castle. An abomination of esoteric means, built and constructed from the remains of MY Court Towers.....bastard that he is. In time, he too shall be dealt with.

The city is wide open now. Financial stations that had served to instill order and commerce are now gone. As are her citizens. The sane one's anyway. But I remain.....I am Gothic, and the ineptitude of others shall ultimately become my greatest triumph. All I need now is 6 of the World's greatest criminals. I will piece them together with an exclusive design of unparalleled perfection. They will help reclaim the city piece by piece, distract by district and kill anyone who gets in their way.

Prepare yourself Gothic, for I am coming. And the Cabinet of Criminals is coming with me...........

(I've got spots open for a cvnu version of the Sinister Six. Interested users can hit me up or just freestyle a reply)

@ishmael_strix: freestyle response likely coming in the near future

@ishmael_strix: (CVNU Sinister Six?)

@apex_: Badass. Almost tagged you but I knew you'd take the initiative (likely :P) Pm me if ya wanna flirt I mean plot.

@silver_spider_ said:

@ishmael_strix: (CVNU Sinister Six?)

@ishmael_strix: I got a D20 ready to roll for initiative at almost any moment ^_~

@arenaceus_: Until a new DLC pack drops for whatever game you're playin....then I'm screwed :P

@ishmael_strix: lies! Who am I kidding

half Truths! Naw that's not right either

TRUE! <.< shit pretend ya didn't see that bit!

This looks nice.

The light of mid-day poured into the hotel room the man had bought for the night. Sunshine pierced Rowens eyelids, waking her rudely. She sat up, ignoring the man beside her and threw the blankets over him to cover his body. She had experienced her fill of fun and noticed she was becoming increasingly easier to bore. Maybe if it were a women it would have given more rise to her eroticism.

Reaching back, she unclasped the ebony lingerie that so pleasingly clung to her breasts, making the lace cloth fall to the bed. Even through the brightness of the sun could she feel the overwhelming need to shed her skin and become one with the wolf inside. The sex was great, the fights were thrilling, the taste of life ecstasy to her brain... yet there was always the wolf missing. If there were a man, or woman, to be able to keep up with her thirst she might not feel so disturbingly alone.

There were the mutates, those with abilities to match her, hell, even beat her to a pulp... and still she still kept an eye out for that one. That one who could bring her to her knee's just by asking. That one being she could sense would be able to control her. A yawn escaped her lips as she stretched and raised her arms above her head. She glanced at the man in the bed, scratch marks running down his body, teeth imprints present on his neck. She had held back.

His breath was steady, rising and falling in prefect health. Bastard. She should rip his throat out, just because she could. Taste his blood, his weak muscle being ripped to shreds between her fangs. She almost came thinking about it, but then she hung her head in disbelief. He hadn't done anything to her, yet she was so fucking ready to end him. The glow in her eyes was bright as she dressed in his button down white shirt, pulling her skirt up so she was decent enough to leave the building. Slowly she slipped her stiletto's on, grabbed her purse and walked out of the room.

The wolf was waiting, and its patience was running thin.

@ishmael_strix:

Now back on her feet the parkour phoenix could once more witness the flawed infrastructure of what should be a great city. On any wall was the scorch marks of some inferno or another the city having been plagued by fire. Look to any car and you could find a bullet hole, a drive by shooting, a mistress, a deal gone wrong the stories were various but the ending always the same. The aroma always a foul one, the stench of death and questionable activities of all kinds was almost as constant as the ones brought on by the broken sewer system and improvised restrooms of the poor. And speaking of the poor it wasn't all that hard to find them always had to watch ones footing else you might stumble upon a hopeless drunk. Perhaps this was all exaggerated, that it wasnt as bad as initially perceived. For Aren though that was all that she could see. The broken things and shattered ways of the world. And the conclusion was a simple one.

She deserved better, a alluring punk of the streets why it shouldn't it be her town? These people had suffered time after time why shouldnt they have something better by now? Some of the brightest minds and bravest of souls called this place home. Gothic deserved better but it was also clear the voices of reason in the past were not enough. Gothic may no longer be a no mans land but it was far from a booming metropolis. Heroes had come and gone some valiant and some violent but none of it had shaped the city into a place worth what its people gave. You didnt need to see the shatter points of the world to know the city was broken and needed something new. And after the abuse the city had fallen victim to it went without saying that new faces would be springing up to make Gothic great. It'd need more then just a bat clown or bull, a group was needed, but who to turn to? Aren was a vague storm not the eye of one, she could assist but being the brains of the operation wasn't for her. She was no kingpin or Mob Boss perhaps however she could find the most promising one who'd arise. It was simple she just had to look for the one with the least weak points.

Thus an investigation began, pull out a phone and the worlds data base was at her finger tips. Swiping typing and pressing were all such simple things. Fascinatingly however these simple acts in the right sequence could go an unbelievable distance. Enter a code here, change some coding there and she could watch the happenings of the city at large. Gothic's electronic network was a mess and while it was difficult to navigate because it'd been as bombed to hell as the streets enough work and that web was a easily followed map. Traveling along the highways of the digital realm showcased secrets and activities of a broken city. The search was to find the most questionable man or lady with the least exploits or best coverage. Doing this led to a charmingly stereotypical mystery. She didn't have a face, or a name, a record she'd found a nothing. Someone active but so well hidden that he was an enigma, but while the man was a shadow technology was a illuminated path to nearly anything and everyone in the modern age.

So a text message pops up on the phone of the unknown after a mysterious little skull symbol pops up. A message from one Arenaceus she had a number and profile pic. She'd placed herself into the phones contacts without having ever met the masked man. "Gothic needs more then one mysterious figure to fix it. And you look like ya could use friends we should meet up, you can name the place if it makes ya feel better." Knowing that she shouldn't call all the shots if she wanted to build bridges shed let the mystery take the drivers seat. Of course this might make her look a bit experienced a skilled hacker and up and coming criminal with to much flare for her own good. It was always best to keep people guessing or thinking they knew the subject though so she figured her inexperienced look might be in her favor.

(still rusty a bit but I'm taking initiative regardless)

@rowenlockwood: (is this open for a response?)

@arenaceus_:

Southern tip of Gothic; closed transit station - abandoned subway car

Perfectly tailored from head to toe in his finest design fashions, color coordinated square pocket tightly tucked in place and family sigils etched in all five of his exotic rings, it was never the less the former aristocrats customized mask that was perhaps the most eccentric piece of his pride-built attire.

"Ya I ain gettin it yo. A Jackal? Whats that even mean?" questioned a potential candidate of the Secret Strix's collection of capable criminals. Ishmael, neglecting to pay the bulky; but otherwise insignificant thug any semblance of attention, opted to sigh instead. Bringing his ringed hand to his concealed forehead with subtle hints of impatience. With most if not all of the city's more notorious criminal names absent, or dead, the self-proclaimed God of Gothic had been forced to scrape the bottom of Gothic's cancerous barrel. The lack of enterprising outlaws meant taking bigger and riskier chances in procuring proficient law breaking renegades. Sending out tightly encrypted messages as part of a larger series of 'ordeals.' to serve as preliminary rights of passage.

As Ishmael silently contemplated-with apathetic coldness-the means in which he would excitedly execute the candidate, his phone vibrated. A refined finger theatrical rose and pressed against the expressionless lips of his Jackal mask, before slowly arching down in the direction of the soon to be deadman. Holding, rather, pointing it with prolonged and silent antagonism as he read.

Refusing to acknowledge the man with visual recognition as he typed, 23rd and Bell. I trust you can find it. "Well now, where were we.....ah yes, I have a job for you." his sinister smile safely tucked away from view. "I want you to go here and meet someone for me. Bring them here, untouched, unharmed." Sliding his phone with the directions across to the hired goon. "Go, now please"Dismissivelyemoting with his hand to be gone.

(23rd and bell can be anywhere in Gothic. Its just a random place to meet the no-name dude so he can bring you to me)

@ishmael_strix: (Everything I write is open for a response.)

iight. Would it be okay then if I meta a bit, and say I've been following her/it/a small string of identical murders?

@ishmael_strix:

A message is recieved and a charismatic smile graces Aren's features she might just have a new friend after all. Of course she doubted shed meet face to face off the back but that played well into her hand in itself. Mischievous and vindictive meeting a lacky was a solid way to get out perhaps some frustration. So sliding her phone back into her pocket the latest cyber criminal began her walk to twenty third. Cute meet up spot, probably wasn't a coincidence one of Gothic's finest was dubbed such a number.

Having made her face known once on the street the parkour Phoenix was found by a big bulky stereotype of a man. A sigh escaped violet lips at the sight "bro you won't do. Tell me where to go." And so the lacky provided a destination as he was told, a wave of Aren's hand the only telling sign that something might be amiss. "Now sit, and if I send you a message of any type other then "come back" jump in front of the closest speeding car." And so the lacky sat awaiting instruction, Aren had to admit it felt good manipulating the fool. If things went poorly she wanted to cost the enemy something as well, course she found she'd also found she'd be fine with spending the thugs life regardless.

An old access hatch was the choice of entry to the abandoned subway. A fan of design the cyber punk had a masters in learning the ins and outs of a city. She wasn't going to box Thee Champion or outsmart a Dark Vengeance but she knew how to capitalize on her particular skills. Stepping into the ran down car she admired the dapper suit and tried to memorize the sigils upon the rings. Perhaps if identities were to go unknown she could use those to learn more. Playfully playing it off as simply admiring the finer things she didn't have she gave a friendly wave. "Love the mask. Hey so I was gona use brute goon number seven as a hostage case things went bad. But I got to say it's getting at me, can I just off him?"

@arenaceus_: lol you leave my goon alone. Thats my kill!

@ishmael_strix: why ya got a be like that trying to go all Purple Man here don't ruin my fun

side note Purpleman might of been the best villain of the Marvel stuff so far

@arenaceus_: I was so close to making a Purple Man alt way back when I first watched the show. It'd be hard to argue that point. Loki fans might have issue. I actually think Crossbones is a highly underrated MCU villain too.

@ishmael_strix: Loki is fun, but Purps is legitimately terrifying lol. And at least in my opinion no other villain pulled that off. Only one close to that sense of dread was Kingpin for me

@arenaceus_:

Smiling with intense entertainment from beneath his enigmatic mask, the Secret Strix had yet to turn around and formally address the ambitious cyber-ronin. Instead he remained focused on the preparation of his tea as she spoke of eliminating her makeshift tour guide. "You'll have to forgive me, these.... accommodations are ill suited for such rich minded confederates, but recent events have forced me to adopt a more....utilitarian approach. "Please, have a seat." Still showing his back, an arm gently extended out towards the nearest table silently suggesting she indulge the social offer.

"Now then," Smoothly sliding in across the table while carefully propelling a decorative cup towards her reach, "First things first." He nodded. Again, his insinuation with emoted through physical articulation. "One should never discuss business without first savoring a spot of tea. Wouldnt you agree, Ms.....?"

@ishmael_strix:

Following the gesture the tecno sleuth took the provided seat to begin proprer business. Steam rising from the glass as Aren took time to heat the tea more to her liking. Far as she was concerned it was her right to treat herself. Gothic needed to make more kings and queens of its people after what they'd been through. Self entitled and perhaps even smug one of the newest of criminals took maybe a little more delight in the encounter and warming beverage before continuing a dialogue.

"It's Gothic acommodations are never what they should be kinda why we do this." Said with but a shrug and smile there was no point in regreting what was. Making it better was the central focus. "I do agree, that said there is some irony in a masked man asking someones identity. Aren Argos, just a versatile lover of mind games and hacking trying to make a living."

@arenaceus_:

Proper form was inherently visual as Ishmael sipped his beverage through the subtle mouth vent built into his exotic costume. Resting the cup atop its matching saucer as he harmonized his intrigue. "You do have a point." His commentary directed at the idea of a masked man inquiring about another's identity. "All things in due time, Ms. Argos." Refusing to divulge his identity just yet. "For now however, you may refer to me as a mere Ghost of Gothic."Comfortably folding one leg over the other before proceeding. "The way you 'hacked' my message was quite...impressive. In fact, so far it appears as though you are the only one intellectually fortified enough to have succeeded." Accessing a myriad of possibilities as it pertained to the new arrivals potential abilities, the former entrepreneur pressed ahead with his cordial investigation.

"You're a...technopath?" Half statement, have question, Ishmael sat back sinking deeper into the confines of his booth. "I'll cut to the chase Ms. Argos. Gothic is on the mend believe it or not. Commerce, social programs, civic order, its all returning. Its all wide open if the right......group, plays it correctly. The power vacuum left behind in the wake of the 'event' is undeniable. I seek to strangle that vacuum closed. Even criminals need a messiah." he arrogantly proclaimed.

@ishmael_strix: (Well she hasn't murdered but k.. haha)

@rowenlockwood: (yeah I just went back and re-read your post, my bad. I thought you shredded that dude but it was just thought, not action lol)

Sits in a beat up 'Chevy Impala' listening to 'Greeday' outside what use to be a local donut shop

@ishmael_strix: (Yeah.. unfortunately for you. He could always wind up dead and I could be a suspect or something.)

@rowenlockwood: I think I have an idea. I'll run with it and if its an issue it can always be edited accordingly.

@ishmael_strix:

There was a spark behind soft blue eyes at the remark of time, curiosity and a challenge taking a solid hold over the technology exploiting vixen. "Not gona be bad for this partnership if I do some snooping around is it?" Aren doing her best to say politely that she was probably going to investigate regardless. A remark on ghosts though did strike a cord of symphony most people in this city likely had their phantoms or a phantom pain. Aren's cybernetic limbs a reminder for herself of that very fact. "Really? I didnt even try. No offense" concern struck her tone as she tried to insist that she wasn't out to insult the man. "I just have a gift for finding weak points its nothing as cool as talking in binary or anything."

"A messiah? Nice if ya get a religion built around you can I have some of the rights? They tend have the best sellers when it comes to books." Course it was nice to hear such a strong stance she was clearly in front of a leader. She wanted the high live but taking point that wasn't her. "So about this group, you got anyone yet? Do I need to hack more and get them over for tea! Cause I'll do it" her phone having been plucked from her coat pocket as fast as the finest outlaw of the west would pull their revolver.

Red Mask was doing better inside Gothic city now. He was sneakily setting up deals with people around Gothic, drug dealers, fire arms dealers, etc. He would offer some protection or help them get started, in return they would give him a portion of their earnings.

On the edges of Gothic he had randomly placed raids going on, this was one of them.

Darkwing and three Blue Bloods stood several blocks away from the target. Two of them would stay behind, one with a sniper rifle the other watching for targets as well as for anyone sneaking up on them.

Darkwing and the other Blue Blood shot off across the buildings at 40 miles per hour and slammed through a wall right against a workers. "Money, now." Arnold said. One of them nearly stepped forwards but found a knife embedded in his right arm before he took another step, he dropped to the ground gripping it eyes wide with the pain of a blade cutting into his bone. That hurried them along and the Blue Blood quickly grabbed any they had as well as any weapons that were around. Arnold pulled out a bomb and a few shouts or cries were heard.

He held up a calming hand, "Only for our security. Bye." He put the bomb against a wall, set to detonate if it sensed a heat signature or was fiddled with in the next fifteen minutes as well as if something prevented it from sensing the detonation device. Him and the Blue Blood shot out heading towards a building where they could drop into the sewers. Once they were safe the sniper would get a message and him and the other would vanish into the sewers as well to get to an entrance into Red Masks tunnels where they would use the special programming of the Bio-matter to open a tube to let them through which would simply form back once they were gone leaving nothing more than some vines growing across the ground in appearance.

@arenaceus_:

Several of the techo-terror's off the cuff remarks and playful sardonic quips, had caused involuntary smirks beneath the Jackal masked Strix. "You may investigate to your hearts content my dear, just be mindful that your disappointment does not effect your efficiency. As you have astutely pointed out, I am already in the company of such ineffectuals." referencing the man the criminal cybertron had previously wished to kill. "Funny you should ask." again making mention of her prior comment. Sliding his mobile device across the table with an App already open.

"Its long been rumored that Gothic is home to a never ending stream of underground tunnels." More then rumor, Ishmael had resided over one such tunnel. A state of the art underground labyrinth engineered by Quintus Knightfall himself. And while ownership had since been passed around, Ishmael never the less knew of its existence. "I suggest if we are to assemble a crew of competent criminals, we start there. But first....I need you to forge a new identity for someone. Fake name, credentials, and work history. We're going to place this individual deep within the construction zone of Gothic. And I know the perfect spot...."

@ishmael_strix:

"Are you comparing me to brute goon number seven if I fail to find anything? Oh your so on, granted id of been so mad if not for the enticing challenge." Quickly bringing up a small holographic monitor the virtual vixen cracked her knuckles and then began going through a series of commands. Looking to connect the phones and information partially for the pending business, and partly for her obligation to pry through data and try and unravel a mystery on her terms as opposed to the ghosts. Industrial lights and almost magic were taking place beneath her finger tips as she explored and exploited data. Gothics webb of a broken server becoming more akin to digital clay. Whoever this ghost was he clearly knew some proper channels and tapping into that only broadened her horizon within the virtual space. Of course not wanting to be rude she did multitask and pay attention to the ongoing conversation.

"God damn underground tunnels, just splash me with that filthy ass needle ridden blood coated sludge called sewer water I might have to dox ya." the techno terror remarked half way just being her sassy self the other being serious. Sewers and the over all tunnel systems were gross. "There popular, even got a few random messages talking about new tunnels opening and disappearing. Ill try and get the results narrowed down though I'm sure we want things like a Brotherhood over some band of greasers." Granted that lost band of grease monkeys had played a great part in defending the city once. Was going to be fun seeing what new faces and old ones would become the disciples of this new age messiah. ID is easy, its just a matter of do ya want it customized or are they okay with being some Gordon Jim nobody." Custom jobs would take a bit longer but it could either way be done in a day or so. There had been a surplus of people who wanted new lives after the insert crime of choice, or once out of Gothic, or just to dispose of troubled up bringing. With Gothic's reputation setting up a new person was easy enough Aren might even provide the service for free on a good day.

@ishmael_strix:

Sounds good.

The best crime was done under ones nose and in plain sight at least Aren thought so especially in this city. With every secret cabal and large scale corporation the attention was misdirected from the smaller scene. Who cares about the gangster when their bosses were sitting in the clouds just begging to get knocked down. Of course there was an extra distraction for the hacker, after all with all the explosive destructive ventures of the smaller scale she looked ordinary. Falling between the major crime that seemed untouchable and the minor criminals clear as day the hacker slipped she believed into the cracks of societies seedy activity.

Further backing came from prior history reports told that Aren was a woman who had dropped out of college and put her job on hold after the injuries she suffered from the events of Gothic. Just a girl looking to relax and lick her wounds as opposed to anyone of notoriety. In fact she even had a record of vigilante heroics before she'd moved to Gothic. Calculated to perfection she was confident that her crimes were uncared about and her history said she wouldn't be up to anything troublesome. Of course she was committing a crime, and so she had a proxy scapegoat should someone try and track her activity.

Having mailed laptops through anonymous black markets but maintaining acess to them Aren while using her lap top was doing so through another. A laptop in Russia was being controlled so that efforts to unravel who was hacking corporations would say some Ivan Chekov was responsible. Poor Ivan was asleep at the time a potential victim of a crime he didn't comit. Didn't bother the techno terror however she in fact took pride that nobody had much reason to question her and that if action was made it likely would fall on another. Firewalls and passcodes were good all the technological security was good, but having protection in the physical world was also critical when everyone wanted to sling targeting acid orbital strikes and so on.

The cyberpunk sat on the steps of one of the towering structures that was a monument to corporate corruption and fronts of dubious actions. Projected from her laptops a series of holographic Windows a projection of video gaming and chat forums that concealed her fingers magical work. Despite looking like another careless youth choosing gaming over reality she was tapping into emails and documents. She was no technopath however she did see the breaking points of the universe. Typing in keys rapidly and one eventually saw a crack enough times and the passcodes were found. Browse the names of messages or search for key words and the right messages to use for black mailing were uncovered. Find the most protected documents and she knew what was best to take. Go into the coding and change small variables and from that the walls collapsed letting the cyber thief take at leisure. It all provided such a intoxicating thrill watching how work on ones and zeros and so many small things could bring a world to her neon gloved fingertips.

The hacker remarked to herself engaging in yet another part of ongoing plans to cement herself as someone with a hold in Gothic. They thought of her as a hero a vigilante they could trust who was trying to get back on her feet. So here Aren was in the Gothic City Police Department given minimal access to the records and network of the revitalized justice system. Who knew if they'd stay straight laced or turn again to corruption but for now they were good and trusting. Making her job easier as she sat an office trusted with what she was given. Using shatterpoint however it wasn't long before she was silently obtaining more then she was allowed.

Logging into accounts and granting herself freedoms beyond her status it was within minutes that everyone was back to their normal layouts despite Arenaceus now having the system under her thumbs. It wasnt even much of a detectable intrusion she was allowed in. She used other people with the authority to grant her power to get more access. Then she purged the memory so it didn't read her as anything then what the authorities would remember. Documents passwords and so on would be stored on a flash drive she hid within her cybernetic arm. Looking for the memory stick would be futile even if someone thought to look for it. And with her vigilante access shed be able to check updates daily and exploit at her leisure. Closing the screens Aren then began her venture out. Being there to long might raise questions and attacking authorities was a criminal past time. Was best to depart before either happened to risk her activities. Today's venture hopefully a profitable yet small and easy one.

bump, maybe the other one should be locked?

Meh. I prefer the old one.

@rey_everdeen:

I knocked the last the mobster to the floor with a blow from my left T-claw. The body spasmed, then was still; he was unconscious. There had been eight of them waiting for me. I'd managed to wring the reason why out of this last one. Apparently they were looking to take out a thief who had recently been interfering with their boss's operations here in Gothic. I was rather flattered that I was their first suspect, but I had a truce with this gang an wouldn't have endangered myself by breaking it, at least not at this point. I set Spex to look into this second saboteur while I took a ready note of apology from my jacket pocket and slid it into the pocket f one of the bigger fellows. I then made a call to the police department from one of my burner phones. The gentlemen would be out of prison by this time tomorrow night and their employer would receive my message. After making the call I shorted the phone with a shock from the claw and checked up on Spex's results.

The only other their in this city who could match my own cleverness was a young man who went by the name of "Dark Rey". Spex was still trying to run a check for his real name at least, then maybe a last known address, criminal record, and business associates.

*I have this under control,* Spex told me mentally. *Patch up your wounds for now. It seems we might have another fight ahead of us.*

@icefire_outlaw: *pants, pants* as Rey finally loses the people who've been chasing him for the past ten minutes or so due to him stealing their goods, he catches a break but then runs into someone. "Hey, outta the way, girl!" Dark Rey says in disgust as he gets up and starts to look at the mysterious beautiful girl with nice blonde hair.

@rey_everdeen: My form blocked the alleyway, the Reaper's Shadow spread out behind me. "I don't think so, Everdeen," I reply from under the bandanna. The thugs chasing him had backed off for now, so it was my turn to deal with the thief stealing my spotlight. Spex ran a full scan of him as I folded my arms and fluttered the Shadow's wings. "We have some unfinished business."

@icefire_outlaw: "Hmm? How do you know my name and what "unfinished business" do you speak of?" He asks as he takes a fighting stance.

@rey_everdeen: "Would you rather i call you Rey?" There was a dark fire in my eyes now as I absorbed his stance and guessed his first moves. The retractable claws on my gloves extended and the moonlight glistened off o them. "And I mean the business you are so rudely interfering with though your little escapade. Did you really think I wouldn't find out? I am already trying very hard to keep out of the way of the gentlemen you are so desperately trying to anger and now the blame for your irresponsibility has fallen on me. I do believe that that falls into the category of unfinished business so no, Mr. Everdeen, I will not get out of your way until you have at the very least apologized for your actions."

@Icefire_Outlaw: "Hmm... go ahead, doesn't really matter though." Rey says then shrugs after. "But it's funny you know so much about me and I know so little about you... are you by any chance a stalker?" Before he completes that question, he begins to walk back and forward.

Rey stops for a sec. "Whoa, wait. You want me to apologize? What kind of fool do you think I am, Ms. Blonde?"

@rey_everdeen: "Ms. Blonde is a little demeaning. You can call me Jesse. And yes, I want you to apologize. Believe me when I say that you'd be more of a fool to refuse." Jeez, males could be so thick sometimes. And people (namely Spex) wondered why I'd never been in a relationship... Though this one was kind of cute. I quickly snapped myself out of that thought train. Thick skulled, stubborn, arrogant, and annoying. Definitely not cute.

"No, I'm not a stalker. Just well informed." I placed my hands on my hips and fluttered again. Damn human biology. I was a tad disoriented now but tried to keep a straight face as I reverted my mind to business. "Now about that apology?"

@icefire_outlaw: "Kay. Jesse it is," I say as Rey stares down the body of the hot blonde. "Whoa, she's hot." Rey thinks in his head.

"Well...back to the topic at hand. Ahem. Oh? Apology? You know I can't say that, you'll have to beat me at something. That's how I was raised." Rey takes his eyes off Jesse, chuckles and plays with his hair.

@rey_everdeen: *Great. Now he's flirting with me. Jerk. As long as I don't flirt back, I'll be okay. Thank goodness I have no idea how to flirt.* These thoughts raced through my head as I considered his actions, vocal tone, and the high levels of testosterone Spex was detecting in his system.

I managed to keep my icy business voice as I replied, "Alright, then, Everdeen. What do you have in mind?"

@icefire_outlaw: "How good can you fight, Jesse? Because I had a duel in mind, it's the easiest way to settle this since we're obviously not on the same page here."

@rey_everdeen: I considered for a moment. "It depends on the form, rules, and stakes. If I win, you apologize to me and steer clear of myself and my associates. What happens if you win, though?"