Looking to decommission an old vehicle.
Don't need any of the parts or equipment inside, feel free to salvage.
All costs associated with disposal will be provided for.
No need for any paperwork to be exchanged.
The first poster who arrives to deal with disposal will get the reward.
Exchanges also welcomed.
Do NOT contact this poster with unsolicited services or offers
firstname.lastname@example.org: ACE777 Would like to chat. Click Link below to connect--->
Another one of these, huh? I'll admit, you did alright last time. Might be legit, but going after Dante? That's a shit idea. I mean, you know who she's married to, right?
It's a fair amount. Not like she can put up much of a fight on her own.
What, 3000 "disposal" x 100 "gas"? That's 300k, which is only a decent chunk if you survive long enough to spend it.
You know the usual markup for public figures, yeah?
Yes, I know of it. Just put it up. And throw in a 10% bonus if they can use obvious extrahuman abilities.
Fine. I'll pass it on to the right channels. Don't be surprised if you don't get any takers though.
TARGET: LENA DANTE
HOMETOWN: LOS ANGELES, CA
LAST KNOWN WHEREABOUTS: WASHINGTON DC
REWARD: $300 000.00 USD
BONUS: $10 000.00 USD
BONUS: $30 000.00 USD
PUBLIC FIGURE: $10 000.00 USD [NO CONDITIONS]
MUTANT: $30 000.00 [MUST USE PROVABLE MUTANT/METAHUMAN MEANS TO DISPOSE OF TARGET]
CONTRACT EXPIRATION: 11/4
@lamartheslayer: interesting. Enjoy greatly a decent challenge something to push my body to it's limits. Give my body the challenge of will I heal from from this fight.... Every power has it's looks right
Spectral is technically street level his power set just scales with the stats of his opponent.
He doesn't go above street level stats unless he copies a person who is physically superior to him.
Problem for him is that he self replicates and has the Hydra curse lol.
Valentina heaved a sigh, collapsing against the back wall as the elevator carried her down, each passing moment taking her farther and farther from Samson Starr. And not a moment too soon. Maybe she should've been used to metas by then but his rage was unmistakable. Although his actions were those of a calm and controlled commander, his words and manner were those of a man fed up with being disrespected, almost dying to lash out. No problem, except that she was perpetrating the same disrespect right under his nose and she estimated he had at least half a dozen ways to obliterate her with hardly any effort at all.
The members of his staff were no fools either – Selebrity wouldn't waste a single red cent on incompetent personnel – but that was nothing new to her. She was simply the best at her craft. Now, without the weight of Starr's all-seeing eye bearing down on her back, the real work could begin.
"Hey, Dr. Schwartz," said her escort, laying a gentle yet firm hand on her shoulder. "You alright?"
"Regina" only managed a weak smile, now back in character. In truth she'd been relieved, but her actions were just as easily (and most beneficially) construed as overwhelmed. "Helluva first day, huh?" the assistant—his badge read William Hardigan—continued. "You'll get used to it. Trust me, Mister Starr would not have hired you, let alone allowed you this much freedom to deal with a crisis like this, if he wasn't impressed."
"And is there no burden quite so lofty as freedom?" Gina responded, humorously grim, as they entered the wellness complex.
They were joined by two others, a medical examiner and physician's assistant, either of whom represented the second greatest threat - and asset - apart from Samson himself. The basic medical knowledge she'd picked up from Ashley wouldn't be enough to fool them for long; once the "analysis" began in earnest, her "expert" title was going out the window fast. That was fine. By the end of the day their loyalty to her would supersede their loyalty to Samson and the company. Not enough to impede their day-to-day function, thanks to a trick which, in her mind, put the Soul Lavaliere beyond simple mind control. Instead of overriding or altering their brains in any way, she'd subtly shift their motivations, convincing Samson's staff that working with her – for her – was their idea all along. She was as good as God to them and they'd be convinced that it was in her best interests – and thus theirs as well – for them to act as naturally as possible, so long as they never contradicted her will.
"I'll need some time alone with Ms. Baker, if you'd all be so kind," said Gina softly. The physician and his assistant exchanged glances, nodded, and started for the door immediately. Prompted by groupthink, their now-superfluous companion followed, though she could sense a dissatisfied curiosity from him.
"Now that we're alone..."
The world faded to a dim monochrome, leaving only two bright spots in the lab with three others shimmering faintly but clearly through the door. Valentina's soul shone more vividly, but she had to admit Barda looked good. Even if a little haggard. She was drumming her fingers nervously against each other.
"S-so...So that's it? That's just...I don't get..."
Valentina nodded solemnly. "'Fraid so."
"Oh fluff, that's so...feck, that's so not fair! Feck—excuse me I'm sorry young lady, but...Feck, shit!"
Valentina nodded. "Go right ahead. It's not fair."
"But you can...with that, you..." Barda looked hopeful, imploring as she motioned toward the jewelry on Valentina's wrist.
"'Fraid not," said the Soul-Seeker, shaking her head.
"But-but, y-you jus–you just said—"
"It's not fair. But it's not unfair either. It just is."
Silence fell between their souls. Barda Baker's spirit dimmed.
"So what now?"
"I'll try to determine what happened to you when you died, look through those last moments. Then I'll make you as comfortable as possible for what comes next, and set both Selebrity's and my resources to work finding the ones who did this."
Barda hesitated, fixated, and eventually spoke up. "And that - 'what comes next' - what is it, exactly?"
"Can't say." Valentina shrugged. "That all depends on you."
B-but, but, you'll at least make things right? Do right by me?"
"What does that even—then what's the point?"
"Something happened. It's personal, you wouldn't understand."
"Personal!? More personal than—Helloooo!? She killed me! I'm pretty sure that's about as pers—"
"Look, Barda, I'm not here to compete and I'm not here to bargain or convince you. You're going to help me. I'm just giving you the opportunity to choose to do so. At least you'll have better chances."
"Huh! Some 'choice!'" Barda huffed, but after a moment conceded her lack of options. "...Well, alright. Just...please try, for me. It'd be nice to feel like someone cared."
"I'll see what I can do," Valentina said. It wasn't technically a lie. "Now show me, if you wouldn't mind."
In a flash the cold and relatively dark examiner's room was no more. Valentina found herself standing in the hall of one of the upper floors, eyeing the new hire sitting alone in the boardroom.
Of course Samson excused himself. She rolled her eyes. So unprofessional. But, well, when you're a superstar...At least now I can...She made her way to the open door for a better look at the fetching young redhead. A pang of both envy and pity shot through her. Young, beautiful, and a brilliant overachiever? The boys on floor 42 will be fighting over those scarlet tresses in no time. The new girl pulled herself away from the window and sat down, looking slightly defeated. Valentina shot her a conciliatory look and shrugged, still unable to fully shake her amusement. It wasn't at all uncommon to see new hires react to Samson that way; in fact if there was one thing he was not, it was a carbon copy boardroom monkey.
She'd have loved to stay, but it was time to get back to her station. "Well, seeya 'round, Gina!" said Valentina with a bright grin. "If you need anything, I'm usually on G, or this floor. I'll leave my number with Samantha in case you have any further questions, if you wanna know who to avoid, who's worth knowing, all the gossip, the best breakrooms, anything at all."
Valentina left the boardroom with an airy feeling in her chest. This Dr. Schwartz really seemed to take kindly to her, and it was almost lunchtime! Maybe if she finished with (or gave up on) Mister Starr in time they could meet up and get acquainted.
Her timing couldn't have been more perfect. Back at her station there was already a commotion starting, and all the attention in the lobby seemed drawn to a specific individual. Valentina couldn't help feeling like she'd met this woman before, but couldn't figure out how. Nonetheless, she had a job to do.
"Good Morning," said the visitor, "my name is Niseema Pollard. I'm with the White House, here to see Samson Starr."
Oh fluff! Oh, fluff this, what do I tell her? "He just leapt out of a window and we're not sure when he'll be back but try again later?" She's with the White House! Yet, ever the consummate professional, Valentina put on her best calm expression and responded as protocol dictated. "Sure ma'am, let me see if he's in."
She made a few calls which sent her mood on a roller coaster and her blood pressure spiking. Samson had returned but seemed to be in a state of alarm, and he wasn't quite done with Dr. Schwartz. In fact he seemed more engaged than before. She'd never seen him that focused while in the office, except—Oh, fluff. "Gametime."
That is to say, he was quarterbacking a crisis and that poor girl was going right into the fire. But how did you tell someone from the White House that the aspiring Governor of California had more important things to deal with than the White House?
She'd have to stall. Just a few more minutes for the rotation, she'd have her lunch and it'd be someone else's problem.
What the-!? She did a double-take. There was someone else waiting with Ms. Pollard. Agony surged up Valentina's forearm. Like the Lavaliere itself had sunk a pair of venomous fangs into her hand and desired nothing more than to be free from her. Her soul screamed and, against her will, fought to separate itself from Barda's. The reconstructed environment of Ms. Baker's memories glitched and Valentina's mind started to go blank. Someone was saying something unintelligible, muffled like a voice underwater. This woman—this entity—felt as though she could see through Barda, through the memory, directly into Valentina herself. Valentina fought to keep her spirit in the moment but she was failing.
"Hold on," Barda's voice cut through the fog, though it was only a faint echo. "Just a little while longer, it's almost over. Please, just—"
Everything stopped. Silence. A short while later the bustle of the lobby returned to normal. "Samson isn't coming," she heard the woman say.
Valentina gave a weak, nervous smile and offered the first thing that came to her mind.
"Mister. Starr will..." But her voice became choked in her throat. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Oh, feck, she was dying! The Lavaliere screeched and bit her again, tearing at her soul. "Abort! Abort!" something inside her called out but now she was stuck.
Gagging, she sank to her knees, asphyxiating on her own tongue, and while the culprits sauntered out of the building without a worry, a sea of well-meaning but useless bystanders rushed to her side as the world–
Valentina awoke gagging on the floor, tears streaming from her eyes, her face turning a distinct shade of blue. She rolled over and fought to draw breath through some unseen obstruction. She could feel herself in her own body, her soul its own captain, but a piece of Barda's memory lingered with her. Pounding furiously on her own chest, mercifully, she began to cough and gasp and cry. Like breathing through a straw at first, but at least she could breathe.
She sat up. Looking around, Barda's soul was right where it'd previously stood. Samson's deceased assistant looked on with pity and gratitude, expectantly at the reeling assassin.
"That's it? A little breathplay? I've had worse." Valentina smirked but even Barda could see that she was shaken. Gingerly, she got to her knees and then her feet. They exchanged a look.
"Thank you, Barda."
"Yes, well, you did say this was the outcome no matter what."
"True. But still. You complied. And you have my sympathies, honestly. I'll take care of everything from here. Oh, and Barda? Someone does care."
The assistant looked confused.
"You welcomed Dr. Schwartz with open arms and resolved to make her first day as comfortable as you possibly could in a new and terrifying environment. She knows that now. That counts for something."
"Yeah, but...Gina doesn't really exist," she said, downcast. "She's just some made up name so you could get in and get what you want, isn't she?"
"From the outside, I guess...They all start out that way, when they're first conceived. But that's never how they end. And now, no matter what, a little piece of you lives on in me too." It was a weak conciliation by any standard measure but right then, to Barda Baker who'd spent her whole life in unobtrusive mediocrity, it was everything. Her spirit shone brighter from then on.
"Okay, I think I'm ready to go now."
Valentina nodded. "You have a beautiful soul, Ms. Baker. I'm sure whatever's next for you will be grand."
Moments later, Dr. Schwartz stood alone in the examination room. Throwing a sheet over the body to conceal the fact she'd made no cuts nor even touched the body (until the true examiners could go back and cover her tracks), "You may enter," she called through the door. Hardigan the escort stuck around, apparently too invested to leave without knowing something. Gina addressed him as well as the others.
"I can't identify what power was used but it appears to be physiological in nature, as the woman who caused this was able to somehow induce seizing and spontaneous asphyxiation by blocking the airway with the tongue. However we can't rule out the possibility that there may be something more at play. You two"—she designated the true medical professionals—"are to deliver your secondary reports directly to me. I'll look them over for corroborations and conflicts and deliver them to Mister Starr. In the meantime, our targets are to be designated top priority and extremely dangerous. No midcarders, understand?"
She could hardly wait to set her own Black Market resources on the trail, specifically for the Black Dahlia. Better if they found her first - there was no telling what Samson would do - but it was almost just as well. Most importantly, Ada Guillaume had to feel pressured to move where the Scarlet Shadowrunner needed her.
Once they'd left the lab Dr. Schwartz apparently returned to her natural, somewhat shy demeanor. William, meanwhile, was on the verge of making his move, unaware that he was playing right into the spider's web.
"Man, Dr. Schwartz, you were pretty fast with that examination. And you still managed to get all that?"
"Oh, I don't–I mean..." Her eyes flashed, subtly but brilliantly orange. The desire was there; he just needed a little push. So she gave him one.
"Maybe when you're all wrapped up for the day we can go out for drinks, celebrate your triumph - if you're not too tired. I could give you the Selebrity crash course." He halted, apparently surprised himself by the sudden burst of spontaneous courage.
Gina demured, but sheepishly agreed.
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