NationStates Jolt Archive

A vague mumbling in a fog so thick that the person directly in front of you in the soup line was but a mere shadow. This is what the world of Hampton Merris, distingushed and now disgraced businessman, contained today. Every morning it was the soup line, wading through the fog that was really steam coming up from whatever plant there was underground, just to get a bowl of horrible turkey soup, or stuff that at least tasted like turkey soup. All this was just some horrible PR stunt, Hampton thought, and he knew it too. In fact, he was the one that started this PR stunt, giving the hungry the excess soup produced by the city's cornucopic vats so that it wouldn't go to waste, and to keep the streets free of the starving. Rather ironic given his current position in life, but he had come to accept that. Even laugh at it. He tried to laugh now, but all that escaped his throat was a bitter cough. The man behind him tapped his shoulder.
"Hey Ham, are you alright?"
This was Josiphina Jalapino the Third, a friend of Hampton's. The first thing that must be explained about JJ, as his friends called him, is that he was named on a bet. Unlike Hampton, he was born into poverty, his parents too poor to feed him or any of his four siblings. This was obviously in the day before the poor got surplus food like this, so his parents took up gambling with the other impoverished. When JJ's mother was pregnant with him, she placed a counterwadger on one of her bets that she would give her unborn child the hideous name that he bares to date. Obviously, she lost, and was forced to name her baby boy Josiphina Jalapino the Third. She simply called him JJ, and that's what he called himself, although he did know his real name and sometimes revealed it when drunk.
Ham, who had been silent for a full ten seconds, responded, "Yeah, I guess I am. I'm just thinking about the irony of it all again."
"Aye, that's why it's best to be born poor if you're going to be poor," JJ said, "That way you ain't got no remorse. You don't end up missing what you used to have, an' all that rot."
"Yeah, but you get named things like 'Josiphina Jalapino the Third'," Hampton muttered under his breath. Generally JJ was a good guy, but he could sometimes be a bit of an ass, especially when talking about things he didn't know about. However, as reluctant to admit it as Hampton was, JJ was probably right. The rich-man-turned-poor life is a one of constant regret, your record stained with such an indecency that you're forced out of society, too poor to buy connections, too stained to get a job, and too poor to buy a boat ticket out of there. He new some guys who stowed away, maybe he could do something like that. Just him and JJ, setting out to start a new life in a new nation. But then he remembered what the robots manning the ships liked to do with the stowaways they found. Well, he hadn't experienced it personally, but again he had been the one to order such things. The irony sickened him so much, he almost entirely lost his appetite.
But if there's one thing that ties you to reality, it's hunger pains. Hampton couldn't ignore these no matter how much he tried, so he was forced to stay in the slowly-moving line. About thirty minutes later, he reached the front, collected his turkey soup in a mug, and walked off to a park bench a few blocks down where he and JJ usually ate. Later they'd head to the Discordian temple to try and get chaos on their side, an exercise that Hampton thought was futile but did it anyway to appease JJ. But now was time for breakfast.
"Does this soup taste funny to you?" JJ asked Hampton, sitting on the bench.
"It always tastes funny to me, like metal and chemical waste," Hampton replied bitterly. It wasn't that the soup tasted bad, it's just that anything loses its luster when you have it 5,000-odd times in a row.
"Do you have to be so sour about all of this?" JJ prodded, "You know, you could just accept that life delt you a bad hand, and that you're screwed, and not mope over it. I did that when I was five, and I'm a better man for it."
"But see, JJ," Hampton replied with false sweetness, "You've never had the good life. I've lived well for the majority of my existance, and being poor and eating this wretched turkey broth day after day tends to make me a bit unhappy, whether or not it's without reason."
"I know what you mean," JJ said back, "But can't you just get over it? I mean, it's not like anything's going to change just by complaining. Think about all the good you've done for the people in the past, you're a good person, you don't need to complain. Hell, if it wasn't for you, we'd all be starving to death right now."
"This turkey broth is death," Hampton grunted, "and if I was so good at what I did, then why'd they fire me for losing one lousy shipment of robots?"
"Because they don't respect what you did for us," JJ pointed out, "You respected the common man, and as I see it they fired your ass for it, using this robot thing as some sort of excuse."
"Maybe," Hampton replied, staring into his soup, "maybe they did."
But what Hampton never told JJ was that, despite doing a few good PR stunts for the populace, he also did a lot to make their lives living hells. He made it illegal for them to sleep above ground, punishable by death for a third offense. JJ's father died that way, which is really why Hampton never had the heart to tell him. Among other things, he abolished several programs designed to get the poor back on their feet and back into the working class, labeling them as "Commie-run Programs". Another point for irony.
His lunch done, he and JJ hurried off for mass. Today, a Wednesday, was the day randomly selected to be this week's holy day at the last meeting, so they had to attend mass or it would be "severly frowned upon", as the minister put it. Of course, this ment absolutely nothing, but JJ didn't seem to care. After sitting through a five-minute sermon, singing some songs in off-key voices and uneven tempos (which was how it was supposed to be by design), and generally doing whatever the hell they wanted, they were sent on their way with a faint hope in their heart that something will come from nowhere to help them. Worshipping the Deus Ex Machina, so to speak.
Night had fallen as they left the temple, so the fellow poor men began to look for an unguarded entrance to the underground. Up until the end of last week the subway was unguarded, but robots had been sighted near there and they didn't want to risk it. Now would be the proper time to mention that Hampton also passed a law prohibiting homeless to attempt to break into the underground after nightfall. Hampton zero, Irony four. In any case, they had to hurry and find a place, as they most certainly couldn't sleep outside. JJ had broken that law twice, and had two identical burn marks on his right arm to prove it. Robots were very perfectionist that way. Hampton had broken that law once, but somehow managed to get away with it. And for forcing him to victoriously defy his own laws, irony gets two points, one for him defying his law, and the other for him getting off scot-free. But tonight they were lucky, as JJ had found a grate and pried it open, leading to a sewer where they would sleep tonight. Managing to sneak in before the guards found them, Hampton and JJ made beds out of their heavy clothes on a narrow passageway in the sewer. Covering himself with his heavy overcoat, Hampton wondered if tomorrow would bring the same monotony, the same usual droll of the poor man's life.

((OOC: I have no idea where I'm going with this, so by design this is completely freeform. Anything and everything goes, just as long as it's reasonable and doesn't involve superpowerful characters. I don't want my hobos going up against some massive dark lord or something.

In short, you can RP a bum, you can RP a person from your nation, you can RP a robot, it doesn't matter. Just as long as you do it well.))

Then suddenly, a massive dark lord stepped out to take on the hobos.

:lol: I'll shutup and leave now.

Then suddenly, a massive dark lord stepped out to take on the hobos.

:lol: I'll shutup and leave now.((OOC: *bitchslaps SO*
Yes, yes you will. :P

Any SERIOUS RPers want to join?))

OOC: Looks interesting... will think on it to see if I can work in a Menelmacari somehow.

~Siri

OOC: Looks interesting... will think on it to see if I can work in a Menelmacari somehow.

~Siri((OOC: Fine by me. At least with you I don't have to worry about RP quality. Just try not to make your elf TOO uber-powered, alright? :wink:

Come tomorrow, if no one's posted anything I'll start the next day for Hampton and JJ.))

OOC: Nah, no uber powers... was thinking perhaps some FHG mid-upper level manager type who'd worked with Hampton before and perhaps knew about some of his darker exploits. Possibly intro some conflict between your two hobos there. ;)

~Siri

BUMP for viewing, should post later today.

TAG for future posts

"Mr. Merris... Mr. Merris! HAMPTON!"
Hampton jumped up with a jolt, and looked around. He was in a meeting room at a table surrounded with a consort of businessmen, some catpeople, some humans, and even a single elf. He looked down at himself, and noticed that he was wearing a suit, and that he was actually clean. He looked around in disbelief, and laughed to himself. Did he actually just dream that he had gone through six years of hell? Did he still have a future in the business world?
"Did you fall asleep, Mr. Merris?"
"No, sir, sorry sir. It was a long night, I had a project due," he said instinctivly.
"Very well, Mr. Merris. Now could someone remind me where we were?"
It had been so long sense someone called Hampton "Mr. Merris", and it almost brought a tear to his eye. He was someone again, someone powerful and important. But maybe his dream of being poor held some signifigance. Yes, he thought. it must've been a sign that I should be nicer to those less fortunate than I! From now on my ways are changed!
"I believe you were repremanding Mr. Merris for losing his shipment of robots to Mars." someone said, interrupting Hampton's inner monologue.
Hampton's jaw dropped, and he felt as if he'd been hit in the head with a brick. Lost a shipment of robots? Why, he had never done such a thing! Losing robots only happened in his dream...
"Ah yes," the man who woke Hampton continued, "Mr. Merris equipped a set of our convoys with a discount nav system and a faulty A.I. system. Do you have an excuse for this, Mr. Merris?"
"I.. I was simply trying to save Resi Corp money, sir," he stuttered.
"Our records also show that you bought yourself a new mansion in Bandonia with the money you saved, as well as a sizable ammount of cocane. You realize this is money out of our pockets, Mr. Merris?"
"No, sir, I didn't mean for it to happen like that! I just..."
"Face it Merris, that's money out of our pockets that you squandered. That is not acceptable. Consider yourself fired, Hampton."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Hampton screamed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ham? Hammy? HAMPTON!"
Hampton jumped up with a start, sweating heavily and panting. Leaning over him was JJ, looking at him concerned.
"Get up, there's a rat stuck in your hair."
So that's what that scratching sensation was, Hampton thought, standing up and prying the beast from his hair. No matter how many times he had that dream, it never ceased to catch him off guard.
"Not talkative today, eh?" JJ said, putting on his coat, "We should probably get to the surface and get in the soup line before it gets too long."
"I guess..." Hampton grunted, moving over to the grate, "here, give me a hand with this thing."
"Alright!" JJ said, pushing on it with Hampton, After a good 10 seconds of pressing against the grate, it gave way.
"I don't remember that bastard being that heavy last night..." Hampton said, "But like you said, we better get off to the soup line."
Climbing to the survace, the two headed to the nearest cornucopic vat for their share of the soup.

Anariel nos Fingolfin, one of FHG's many Senior Vice-Presidents of Operations, stepped off the gravliner at Resi City's airport, and passed through customs.

FHG - Feanor Holdings Group - was one of the largest companies in the world, its fingers reaching into every conceivable industry in every conceivable market. It probably matched Resicorp for sheer revenues, though it didn't control a nation. Everything from fast food to guns, textiles to warships, home optronics to broadcasting, fell under the FHG aegis somewhere. Anariel's job, like that of her counterparts in various other regions around the world and throughout the Menelmacari sphere of influence beyond, was to coordinate between the parent company and its subsidiaries, and between FHG and 'local' firms with whom FHG had arrangements. In Resi City, this was Resicorp and only Resicorp - there weren't any businesses other than Resicorp.

Admittedly, many years ago things had been different and FHG and Resicorp had hated each other with a passion, primarily due to the minor matter of there having been a slightly large war that had forced Resicorp to restructure and netted FHG and several other Menelmacari conglomerates tens of trillions of credits worth of Resi assets. But bygones were bygones, all was fair in business, and most importantly, the Resi humans had lived and died and forgotten, the way wars tend to fade into history, difficult to imagine in anything but black and white.

Anariel rode through the streets in a rented limo, adjusting her shimmering auburn hair and her green-and-golden robes. This done, she reached down to her belt and pulled her global from its holder, extending the screen and placing a call.

"Yes, I'm looking for Hampton Merris, please." She'd made many profitable deals with Hampton Merris. In fact, she'd done most of her work with Resicorp through Hampton Merris. Last short while she hadn't been in Resi much, but now she had some more proposals... she didn't much like the man as a person, and despised some of the things he'd done. But he was a shrewd and reasonable dealmaker, and she respected him professionally.

"WHAT? What do you mean he's no longer with the firm?"

She waited as the person on the other end tried to explain.

"Fired? Embezzling? How long?" Can't have been more than a few months, she thought.

"Six years?" Damn, how time flew... it was, occasionally, part of being an Elf. One might leave an area, only to come back years or decades later - not such a long time for Elves, though rather a good while in the flicker-life of any of the myriad mortal races - and find nothing familiar.

"Well, damn, think you people could have informed me? I sincerely hope that Resicorp does not so little value its contacts with the Feanor Holdings Group that not only would a new liaison not be provided, but that we would not even be informed."

She had the person on the other end - some midlevel gofer, really - just about stammering by now. She cut the human off with a wave of the hand.

"Where is he working now--" She cut herself off now. Stupid question. There was nobody else in town to work for. "Bah, never mind. Just get me someone I can meet with and talk to."

She hung up and slumped back in her seat, more than a little miffed now.

[Tag... Damm, so tempting to send an uberpowered uberness lord.]

OOC: Question for Resi, I want to use this idea of mine where this new religious sect called the Aphrodite Temple Faith (which of course worships the Goddess Aphrodite and has it's own holy text called "The Book of Love and Adore" and is the fastest growing religion in my country) wishes to spread into Resi and I just wanted to ask you if I could.

OOC: Question for Resi, I want to use this idea of mine where this new religious sect called the Aphrodite Temple Faith (which of course worships the Goddess Aphrodite and has it's own holy text called "The Book of Love and Adore" and is the fastest growing religion in my country) wishes to spread into Resi and I just wanted to ask you if I could.

OOC: Question for Resi, I want to use this idea of mine where this new religious sect called the Aphrodite Temple Faith (which of course worships the Goddess Aphrodite and has it's own holy text called "The Book of Love and Adore" and is the fastest growing religion in my country) wishes to spread into Resi and I just wanted to ask you if I could.((OOC: Maybe, most of the country worships a greek goddess already, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch. However, this is the kind of thing you ask by telegram.))
IC:
The gofer that Fingolfin had practically given a panic attack, name of Douglas "Dougy" Adams, had managed to regain his wits and was formulating an answer in his slow-witted brain. He was a PR man, designed to say sweet nothings to customers until they shut up and left, throughly satisified with his service although they received nothing and payed 2 Resi Credits a minute for it. Dougy got some bizarre sadistic pleasure out of all this, but what he was getting now was something new altogether. Through some call-redirection error (I'm assuming Fingolfin called Hampton's ex-secretary's number, which would get her redirected), he had gotten a call that was instead ment for the bridge between their corporation and, wouldn't he know it, nothing short of the Feanor Holdings Group. This was big, too big for Dougy to handle, even if the elf calling only wanted to be redirected to the new corporate relations executive for the FHG.
"H-hold on for a second," he stuttered into his headset, "I-I'll look him up for you."
Typing frantically into his computer, he found who had inherited Hampton's position and their phone number. He was unsure if they knew that they knew they took on Hampton's duties, as people of the corporation often didn't until they received their first assignment in their new position. Mildly inefficent, yes, but Resi Corp received fewer complaints and disidence that way as those who would otherwise produce them would be too bogged down in work at the time to do much else than just that, work.
"F-forwarding your c-call, ma'am," Dougy managed to stutter again, "H-have a n-n-nice day!"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In his study deep within the Elite Arcology, home to the Resi Corporation's best and brightest, Rian McDougel's cell phone began to ring. He scoffed, putting down his newspaper and picking the infernal thing up. Didn't they know it was his day off? No matter, he thought, I'll just have to fire someone later to send the proper message.
Flipping open his phone, he looked at the data screen to check the ID of the caller to make sure that it wasn't something he could just hang up on.
INCOMING FORWARDED CALL!
FROM: FHG Rep to the Resi Corporation
FORWARDED BY: PR Department
ATTACHED NOTE (BY FORWARDER): You are the Resi Corporation's representative to the FHG, as chosen six years ago by a panel of your superiors. This is your first assignment, refresh our link with them and regain their trust.
"Aw f*ck..." McDougel said aloud, "I guess I'll have to take this then."
As McDougel was a bit higher up in Resian soceity as shown by his living standards, he knew about his not-so-recent aquisition of a new position. He also knew that, although the elves didn't call much, they would eventually and when they did it would be a big one, which is why he kept a seperate file on his computer as an archive for all FHG-related material. He switched his computer on, and took the call.
"This is Rian McDougel, how can I help you?"
------------------------------------------------------------------
"Let's take a new route to the soup line today," Hampton said, helping JJ out of the sewer.
"What?" JJ asked, "Why? We have to get there first before all the soup is gone!"
"JJ, I've spent the best years of my life running the rat race, and if there's one thing this riches-to-rags life of mine has taught me, it's to stop and smell the roses. I want to see Resi Tower up close again. It's where I used to work, y'know."
JJ, lifting himself to the street, grunted, "Oof, well if it's for nostalgia, then why not? I mean, it's not like they'll run out of turkey soup, we'll just have to wait longer."
With Hampton leading the way and JJ following, they set off for Resi Tower, trying to reach it before security was hiked up at mid-day. If they arrived there then, they'd probably be not-so-gently escorted off the scene by robots.

(OOC: Hey Resi, I hope you won't mind a little twist in the storyline...I'm going to add in a hired gun who goes rogue on Resi, and a conspiracy that encompasses both companies...)

Graduating from the hallowed halls of Resi's premier law school, Cole Hert University, James Bauer had once been an idealistic individual, full of the ambitions of common to newborn lawyers: the desire to change the world and make it a better place, to represent the poor and less fortunate in their fight for justice. It was a dream that had ended abruptly when he had made partner at Resi Corp.'s legal branch--a turning point in his life when he began to care more about the shine on his brand new Mercedes than anything else.

For five years, he worked endlessly, day and night, to shut out those he had always dreamed of helping...A little lawsuit here, another there...All aimed at smoking out the hoodlums within the city's "abandoned" buildings in order to make way for some monolithic structure to add to the prestige of the Corporation. Without a slight hint of remorse, Bauer even managed to squeeze out every penny from a local soup kitchen for having turned down an "offer" from Resi Corp to have it cleared for some strip mall, on the account that there were numerous building "violations".

So one could say that Bauer's cutthroat business practices helped him in the acquisition of his new profession as a contract killer for Resi Corp. But of course, the higher-ups never really just plucked him out of his office and sent him off with his gear...no...that's just plain stupid. No...They watched him first before hiring him...They noticed how far and fast he could run without as much as a bead of sweat on his forehead...They noticed how at a friendly game of skeet shooting during the company picnic, he could pick off a goddamn disc from a mile away...They noticed how none of the guards ever heard him pass their station when he came into work...They noticed things like that...

And now, here he was on another assignment. James had done this so many times that the hunt had lost its appeal. The adrenaline rush was gone once that bullet left the barrel, because it always hit its mark. He never worried about missing...He just never did. His fellow assassins, sometimes joked that he had been born with that railgun in his hand.

Rarely did these unseen predators ever receive more information other than a picture of their target, but Bauer had his contacts...Anariel nos Fingolfin. Elven. Six-foot-six. Female. Auburn hair. Usually wears a green robe with golden patterns. Senior Vice-President of Operations, Feanor Holdings Group. Graduated Summa Cum Laude at some prestigious business university in Menelcamar. Limousine: Luxuria Breeze, stock, no armor. Top speed, 108 miles per hour. The numerics under the barcode of its plate read "942661420".

Pressing a button embedded into the back of his ear, James linked his comms up with his operations advisor, Mia Hodgekins. Mia supervised almost everything in each operation withou actually being next to him. Maps, escape routes, field information, dry wit--everything was transferred to his neural implant. "Target acquired. Commencing operation." Crouching atop a Resi high-rise, he viewed the limo through the scope...not too hard of a job. He led his cross-hairs lined ahed of the vehicle's front-left wheel, and FWOOSH--the round flew silently towards it's target and penetrated the rubber successfully. Almost methodically, he aimed at the location of the gas tank once the car ground to a halt. But before he could squeeze off the round, Mia shouted through the mic implant.

"Hold that thought, cowboy...I think you might want to take a look at this."

She uploaded a new file on Anariel, one which showed her connection to Hampton Merris.

"What's this, Mia? How did you manage to pull this out of the Resi databanks and give this to me, without being swarmed by my fellow co-workers?" A smile drew past his cheeks.

"I said please."

James' jaw almost unhinged from its joint upon scanning the file...It seems that his good old friend Hampton was just a pawn in the Corporation's latest scandal. Someone within Resicorp was in cahoots with some shady character at FHG and had used Hammy to be the fallguy for an arms deal gone wrong. The only way it coul be traced was by digging deep in the FHG ship log archives and checking to see if any of their ships had gone off course and intercepted the Resi ship, which would have been able to detect and log its presence in the first place. As Senior Vice-President of Operations, she, along with her superior, would have access to such data. Maybe he was the crooked one...

"Mia, what's the status on Kraynor's mark?"

"Morocco...Hmm. Shot dead at the port. Looks like we're behind schedule."

"Looks like it..."

With the remainder of the five ammo clip, Bauer fired off the rest of the rounds at the windshield of the limo, aiming purposefully not to hit Anariel. A very sloppy job.


-------


"WHAT?!" A gruff looking man, perhaps in his mid-50's, was sitting in his plush corporate office, its blinds drawn to fend off any unwanted sightseers on the building across the street. "He's gone? Where?"

A sheepish reply from the other line.

"You've got to be kidding me. Pull in everything we've got. Get them to finish his job, then him."

EDIT: Height corrected on description of Anariel.

((OOC: I guess that's alright, but I'm not sure if it'd fit too well into Siri's plans. And let's face it, in all fairness she was here first. If she gives it the okay, I'll let it fly.))

TAG so I can jump in if I see the opportunity.

(OOC: Could be sorta cool... if there's a conspiracy, though, Anariel probably isn't involved... and there probably wouldn't be an entry in the FHG logs... 'diverted to asteroid belt to pick up stolen arms shipment'... ;) And she's six-foot-six, actually... elves are taller than humans. I like the idea, though, and I'll run with it.)

The tires squealed, the car swerved.

Anariel was saying this even as she opened the back door of the limo and dove out onto the sidewalk... she watched as bullets showered down on the windshield of the car, which likely meant the end of the driver; the limo itself eventually peeled off the road, jumped the curb, and went through the window of a coffee shop on the corner.

Anariel was getting up from where she had fallen; she took cover behind the corner of a building and in one smooth motion swept her TPP-26 heavy plasma pistol from a pocket deep in her robes. Manufactured by FHG on contract for the Imperial government, the weapon was the same sort issued standard to the MIDF. (OOC: Think, appearance-wise, something like an HK MP-7, but with assorted elfy designs etched into it, and Anariel's is gold-plated.) She swept the rooftops with the weapon - that had been the direction from which the shots had come - but all seemed quiet, and after a long moment of relative silence Anariel put the weapon away, brushed the dust of the street from her robes, and started to walk. She was only a few blocks from Resi Tower anyway... she pulled out her global again, and found she'd been forwarded.

"Rian, dearie, I'm going to have to call you back... someone just shot at my car. What the hell kind of city are you running here?? Fix it, please. I've had a shitty morning, and shitty mornings are bad for business."

She hung up, and while glancing down to put the device away again she turned a corner and bumped into a pair of hobos. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" \>.</

(OOC: No, she's not involved at all. And the entry wouldn't raise suspicions at all; instead one of them [err...out of a few hundred, contains something fraudulent like one stating that the ship had to "veer" off its course to avoid some sort of trouble. Maybe space pirates or something. :lol: Anariel is the only one who now has access to the databanks seeing as her superior has just shuffled off this mortal coil...unless, however, if the company has decided to replace him instead of promoting her.)

"Mia, you need to find a place to hide."

"Don't worry about me, Jimbo. If I were you, I'd be more concerned with keeping our girl safe."

"If you say so. What are you going to do?"

"A one way ticket to beautiful Rio."

Good idea, he thought. If there was any better place to lose yourself, it was Brazil...The right connections (and a briefcase full of money) got you far there.

"Good luck. Oh, and don't forget to get rid of anything that can trace me...the encryption codes, the communicator--everything."

Bauer heard a sigh on the other line. "I guess this is goodbye then."

"Don't worry. I'll find you. Keep an eye out for anyone suspicious." A thunk, crunch, and crackle later, there was silence. Mia had pounded on the communicator with her stilletto heel...

Bauer was rappelling off the the building now onto a deserted alley below. Like a snake shedding its skin, he slipped off the cloaking tarp and proceeded down the street towards the carnage he had caused, wearing a business suit.

He hoped to God she would cooperate and hear him out...


-------


Within five minutes of the assassination attempt, Thomas Yearling was bombarded with the disgruntled complaints of Resi's top officials. How did this sniper get past security to the corporate building from which he was perched upon? Why wasn't the limousine armored? Why didn't the security task force go after this guy? Why, why why?

He told them it was James Bauer, one of their operatives. A lone wolf who had disobeyed orders and tried to sour the relationship between Resicorp and FHG. Payback for the company's decision to fire his good friend Hampton Merris.

It was a half-truth, of course, like most of the other bullshit he shoveled onto their plates every day...


-------


Mia Hodgekins smiled and nodded at a stewardess as she was welcomed aboard the plane and promtply directed to her seat in first-class. She was one of only fifteen passenger aboard the triple-seven headed to Brazil, most of which were tourists vying to check out the sights and get a tan. Except for two Latin men, both well dressed, both looking innocent as lambs, and both sent by Yearling to kidnap Mia and use her as leverage. They knew about Bauer's connection with her...whether she was his love or not, this pretty little goldfish could be used to bait the shark...

She walked down the street, holding her precious plastic coffee cup in both hands. It wasn't that she was a coffee adict or anything like that, it was just a long time scince she had enough money to buy a cup.
On the other side of the road JJ was walking along with that new mate of his, whathisname. Oh, it's not like his name mattered, he was boring anyway.
Somewhere in the back of her mind a tyre slipped and squirmed on black aspalt. As she looked over her shoulder there were two headlights heading right for her, in a blur of brilliant white light. She panicked, jumped sideways, skilllessly planting herself into the nearest pavement face first.
Her precious coffee cup fell to the floor and exploded in a splash of super strong java.
As she lay in a heap on the pavement, she watched Anariel wave a gun in the general direction of the roof tops. As she rolled over onto her side her greed struggled with her self-preservation. Stood infront of her was someone who was obviously rich. And obviously out of town. She had 'mark' written all over her. Well, she had 'mark' written on all the bits that were not waving a scaryass gun around anyway. But then there were the bits that were waving a scaryass gun around. Her greed won, as it always does in people with very little to lose. The java trickled down the road towards a drain
Lace dusted herself off, and walked towards Anariel. Lace was about 5'7" high, with long ratty blond hair worn loose. Although still quite young her face and hands were grey with ground in dirt. Her clothes had obviously been scavenged from someones rubbish bins, but scavenged with a purpose. All her clothes were covered in pockets, and most of the pockets were full of junk. She smiled.
"Well, err, that were a bit damn scary wern't it?"

"Yeah. Anyways, I am looking for Severn Falls Monument? Ya couldn't give meself directions could ya?" No. Of course she couldn't. Partly because the woman she was speaking to wasn't local, but mosly because Severn Falls didn't exist. Lace knew this and was now playing for time, carefully looking for as many chances as possible to releave this rich person of all her valuables.

"Oh. Right. Well, what about the Dragons Breath Bar, I hear thats nearby?" Another made up place, but everybody knows how to find bars, so a much higher chance of a answer this time.

The Elf peered down at the little human woman in front of her. The thought passed through Anariel's mind that she might have been rather pretty, but for the fact she appeared as if dirt was the only thing holding her together.

"Scary? Try being the one getting shot at."

Anariel kept walking.

"Severn Monument? Never heard of it. Never heard of the Dragon Breath Bar, either," she said, her voice edged with a hint of barely-concealed disdain. "I'm from out of town, so what are you asking me for? You don't look like the sort that... travels much."

Anariel kept walking.

Finally she stopped and turned.

"Can we just get to the part where you ask me for money so I can say no and get to my meeting?"

Post was repeated. Mods, please delete this one.

Never in his life had Bauer ever met an elf in person...Sure, a couple of his past (and now relatively dead) targets were elven, but he had been at least a half a mile away when they were poisoned, vaporated, shot---what have you. So it came as a surprise to him that Anariel was very tall, yet lean, in frame, a couple of inches taller than he was. She looked heavenly--almost perfect. But then again, so were the rest of her brethren.

He was within a few feet of her now when the street riff raff had initiated a conversation with her. Could she be one of the mercs sent in to sweep up his mess? Maybe...But just to make sure, he unholstered a small tranquilizer gun from his pocket.

PFFFT. In one sweeping motion, he had gotten a hold of Anariel by the arm and shot a dart at the hobo's neck. Had he been feeling like his regular persona as a hitman, she'd be sleeping a bit longer...

Naturally, the elf resisted, which was met with a light zap from his tazer. He kept her standing, kept her walking, as they neared a local soup kitchen...a great place to find some "new" clothes. As he did so, he spoke to her in a low, raspy whisper.

"You don't need me to tell you that your life is in danger. So I'm going to tell you everything else. As of fifteen minutes ago, you have been bumped up to Senior President of Operations. Why? Your boss was killed in Morocco." As soon as James saw that she was about to respond during his little speech, he stopped her short by placing his finger upon her lips. He didn't know why he did...."Don't speak, just listen. They're after you because now you have access to ship logs. How many do you have?" A pause to hear the answer, but Bauer answered his own question. "Let me guess? Anywhere around a few hundred to a couple of thousand? One of them's connected to a Resi ship lost near Mars. Remember that incident? It didn't really just lose a couple of robots..."

Gently spinner her body so that she faced him, he grasped her shoulders gently and looked up into her eyes. "Look, I was the one who was sent as a cleanup. Call it a change of heart, call it anything, but I didn't decide to bump you off. Consider me your new bodyguard."

((OOC: Ack! I ment to post earlier while the shooting was going on, but by the time I saw it, it was too late. I'll just make a little addendum to the events, here. Nothing major...))
IC:
R-5 Unit #10, a menacing robot that just screamed the phrase "psycho killer", was standing on duty in the area near ResiCorp HQ, designation: Resi Tower. He was quite literally born to do this job, and what concousness he had told him that he throughly enjoyed protecting the people of Resi City from dangerious individuals, such as terrorists and the homeless. Today was a slow day, as had been every day sense HQ permitted him to slaughter a mass murder and rapist on TV several weeks ago. His CPU predicted that the crime rate would pick up in another week or so, but probably not in his part of town. He let out the robot equivalent of a sigh, hoping that someone would be stupid enough to pull something.

Did he ever get his wish.

Just the second Unit #10 thought that, a car swerved directly in front of it. Sensing this coming, it shot directly upwards with its boosters, letting the car pass directly under it. From this vantage point, it scanned the area. Using everything from Lidar to radar to thermals to sonic/visual scanners, it ID'ed the person inside the car as an elf, and managed to get a vauge image of her face. Running a database scan with the centeral computer back at the Office of Information, it came to the conclusing that she was none other than Anariel Fingolfin of the FHG, or that she was a derelect by the name of Enimas Neld who had apparently died 20 years ago. It also found out that Anariel had arrived in Resi International Airport hours earlier, and she had ordered a limo to pick her up.
"PROBABILITY OF IDENTITY AS ANARIEL FINGOLFIN OF THE FHG: APPROX. 96%" he uttered.
This ment two things. First off, she was high class, and therefore was only slightly guilty if guilty at all, and secondly she was a diplomat, and therefore wasn't guilty anyway. It queued its brain, asking it why this happened.
In the time it took to do this, a person had already grabbed ahold of Fingolfin.
"PROBABILITY OF HOSTILE: 60%"
With that, it flew down and smacked the human aside with a sweep of one of its massive metal arms. (considering he's a trained professional, this shouldn't do as much to him as Unit #10 thinks it did)
"NO, ALLOW ME TO BE YOUR BODYGUARD." Unit #10 said with something that seemed faintly like a smirk in his voice.
----------------------------------------------------
"Holy hell!" Hampton said, seeing the car swerve, "JJ, did you see that?"
"Goddess!" he screamed, diving at Hampton and knocking him down just in time to dodge a hubcab flying directly where his head was, "I wonder what's with that?"
"It's none of our concern JJ," Hampton said, getting up and dusting himself off, "You suppose we should help whoever's inside that thing?"
"Why not? It's the humane thing to do... oh hell, did you feel that?"
There was a distant rumbling. Both of them felt it, and both of them knew exactly what it was.
"Robots..." they said in unison.
Unit #10 had automatically alerted HQ, which then dispatched a sizable number of v1.0 R-Bots to the area to close it off. Even now swarms of robots marching on foot were coming in to the area, flooding the sidewalk. Some stood by and closed off the street, while others moved in on Fingolfin's location and surrounded her, knocking the hobo woman away from her and completely surrounding her would-be "bodyguard".
"WE'RE SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE, MA'AM." one said, "AN ESCORT WILL BE ARRIVING TO TAKE YOU TO WHEREEVER YOU WERE GOING SHORTLY. IN THE MEANTIME, ALLOW US TO PROTECT YOU."
In the rush of robots, JJ and Hampton were knocked apart, both into the street. JJ was kicked around by a multitude of metallic feet, until he eventually flew into and collieded with the hobo woman. Badly brused and out of breath, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was this woman.
"Are... are you an angel?" he asked between breaths.
Hampton, on the other hand, was more thrown out of the way intentionally. Sure, the robots recognised who he was (with emphasis on the tense), but they didn't care. He eventually got thrown against the battered remains of the limo by an especially determined robot, where he lay gasping for breath.
-----------------------------------------------------------
McDougel studied his phone. Certainly this wasn't someone playing a crank call, it was too elaborate for that. Whatever, he thought, if she's busy now it's none of my concern. Let the robots handle it.
((OOC: Just so you know, Unit #10 will severly underestimate this guy and thus use much less than full strength. This is my way of making him un-uber. And, as far as this RP is concerned, a v1 R-Bot is a weak drone, much like a rookie in the military. In war RPs I'll say otherwise, though, but I'm doing all this to keep it fair. :wink: ))

(OOC: lol, thanks Resi...for umm...keeping it a fair fight. BTW, may I suggest that Bauer be turned over to Yearling for "interrogation", to help move along that aspect of the plot?

The robot swooped down on him like a bat out of hell, swapping him aside as if he was a mere rag doll. Bauer winced as he made contact with the pavement, tearing part of his suit to pieces. He had managed to lessen his injuries by rolling upon impact, but that didn't save him from being bruised and battered.

Get up...get up... Bauer lay motionless for a second as he eyed the situation, sizing up his chances against the dozen or so robots. They were the first production line R-bots, a bit ancient in Resi's standards, but nonetheless useful for cleaning up the streets from would-be thieves and muggers. He finally got up, placing his hands behind his head in surrender...

As he did so, he quickly pulled out the shock pistol from his hip...A common sidearm to a Resi assassin. Lightweight, compact, and non-lethal, it fired off electrical bursts meant to incapacitate any "witnesses" a contract killer would encounter and powerful enough to completely disable every circuit in most robots, especially earlier versions like the v1. More recent incarnations were temporarly shut down until technicians could re-route its power cells.

It was over in fifteen seconds as the robots tried to rush him in unison, each receiving a shot to its mid-section, including the one that had swatted him.

Briskly pacing towards Anariel, he took a hold of her again (more gently this time around), and led her towards the soup kitchen, failing to notice Hammy on the ground as he passed him...

Lace regained conciousness at around about the same time she was being violently thrown backwards by a Tinman. The sudden movement probably helped. That and the pain of having her shoulder grabbed.
Her left foot hit the ground first meaning she promply fell over it because the rest of her was moving too fast. It was a better landing this time however, probably because she no longer cared about her coffee. Lace hurt. Her face and ribs hurt from the earlier bad landing, her ankle from this one. Her shoulder hurt from being grabbed and crushed by something that not only didn't like her, but also had the strength to lift a car. Her head hurt, well, not exactly hurt but was definately not entirely there, but she didn't know why that was. She was blissfully unaware of the tranquilizer dart in her neck. It was around this point in her pulling herself together that JJ landed beside her.
"Ya asked me before, remember? The answer was no then. And it still is. But yeah, I would love a hand up." She looked uneasy around the Tinmen.
"JJ, It easy. If I am an angel, then this must be heaven. As this - Ouch - carefull - so clearly isn't heaven, so I am clearly not an angel."
It was just as she was about to hug JJ and tell him 'Thanks for the thought anyways' that the gunfire started. You could just about see in her face how she was working out how much diving to the floor and having to get up again would hurt, compared with the likelyhood of getting shot if she didn't and how much that would hurt.
The third shot hit home on the third Tinman, and by this time the first was starting to throw sparks and fall over. All Lace could think to say was "Oh."
Seventh one shots, and the second drops."My."
Nine. Third and fourth fall over. "..." If she looked uneasy around the large group of moving Tinmen, she looked downright terrified around a group of unmoving ones.
"JJ RUN!" No looking over her shoulder this time. She knew exactly what was there. What was there was waiting for backup from hell itself, and there was no way in gods green earth - or this stinky, dirty city - that she was waiting for it. She hurtled round a corner, and began prying at the draincover latches like a thing possessed.
One corner.
Second corner.
Third corner. You can do this.
Fourth corner. Yes! She threw the draincover down the street out of the way. Then promptly ran after it when she remembered it had to be replaced. She scurried down the rathole and waited hopeing JJ at least was behind her. But not too far behind.

*bump

It all happened quickly enough that Anariel lost track of most of what occurred. When things seemed to have sorted themselves out, she found herself being pulled towards some rundown building by some fellow with an EMP pistol who was going on about robots and a dead boss and being sent to kill her but changing his mind. It was all quite confusing, really.

"What assurances do I have," she said finally, "that you haven't simply decided I'm worth more to you alive?"

...powerful enough to completely disable every circuit in most robots, especially earlier versions like the v1...((OOC: Either someone did their research, or you made a very lucky guess. :wink: ))
Unit #10 hadn't expected this. Between his giant swipe at the tiny man and the v1.0 robots that were supposed to mop him off the sidewalk, he couldn't understand how he had managed to not only get up again, but to take out some of the v1.0's and grab the elf. He froze for a second while his mechanical brain added more lines of programming to compensate for this irregularity, which was all Bauer needed to grab Fingolfin and haul out of there. Giving the man a five-second head start unintentionally, he wheeled around and began to run after the man, now armed with the knowledge that he was dealing with a more-than-avarage man, and to now use more-than-avarage force when dealing with him. He still didn't know the extent of this man's skills, so he decided to start small and work up. He didn't want to cause too much collateral damage as that would result in him getting a CPU overhaul, something akin to having your brain torn out and replaced with a new one in humans.
"HALT, CRIMINAL FLESH-MONSTER!" he hollered as he ran after Bauer.
((OOC: Robots, unless specifically programmed to, don't know that much about humans. They know what their vitals are, but most of them don't know why, or even where humans come from or any of that. This is why they call them "Fleshies" or "Flesh-monsters", because in their eyes the fact that humans are made of meat is the only thing that seperates them from robots.))
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JJ was incoherant for most of what Lace said, but he heard what really counted. Namely, that this wasn't heaven and that he had to run. He didn't know or care why, his brain was too addled for such things, all he knew is that this woman had his best interests in mind and that if he didn't move he'd be crushed by the multitude of robots.
Following Lace towards the rathole, he started to regain some of his sense, and what was happening came back to him ever so slowly.

He didn't so much go down the rathole as fall down it, due to a combination of his current lack of coodination and the mass of robots pushing and shoving non-importants like himself out of the way. In any case, all that matters is that he was sent flying face first down the rathole, and in to about 5 feet of sewer water. Whether it was the smell or the temperature of the "water" that brought him to his wits was irrelivant, as he soon shot up from the filth gasping for air.
"Lace!" he yelled, "Help me!"

Bauer pushed through the line of homeless men and women queued at the entrance of the dilapidated building, once turning to take a potshot at the robot in pursuit.

"What assurances do I have that you haven't simply decided I'm worth more to you alive?"

"Ha," Bauer sneered. "Your good looks, your eyes...I'm in love with you." It was all sarcasm, of course.

"I'll explain everything once we get away from that nutzoid robot." With the elf in tow, he led her past the droves of poor folk, down to the basement where a metal grate separated the building from the sewers below. It was thrown open with a metallic clang, and before the elf even knew it, she was pushed into the cesspool below. "Sorry..." Bauer jumped in after her, closing the gate. With a flick of his wrist, he activated a laser cutting device built into his watch and sealed off the barrier.

"Come on, let's get you a hot shower and some new clothes." Pulling out a Maglight from his pocket, he lit the corridor with its intense beam of light, revealing a multitude of rats scurrying about...

((OOC: Sorry I haven't posted here much, I've been too busy not fearing the reaper (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=143362).))
Unit #10 had lost track of the man as he passed into the mass of homeless waiting for their turkey soup, as the heat signatures all blended together.
"DAMN IT." the robot muttered, shoving a homeless man aside to take out its rage. The programmers had installed the R-5 Unit with the ability to swear to humanize it, although in retrospect it seemed kind of pointless to humanize a killing machine.
"ALL UNITS, HIGH ALERT. DANGEROUS SUSPECT IN THE AREA, TRANSMITTING IDENTITY FILE NOW..."
And with this, every robot in the area knew exactly who and what to look for.

Glancing at the closed grate, he realized that the R-5 had lost them in the crowd minutes ago. Bauer let out a sigh of relief, though he knew their safety would be temporary until they could get back to a nearby shelter.

"It looks like we're okay for now. I think the patrol unit lost sight of us." No response from the elf. Apparently, she was still waiting for an explanation.

"Like I told you before, they sent me in to take you out. That's my line of work--contract assassin for ResiCorp." Anariel still seemed unsatisfied by the rather concise explanation, judging from the ever-eternal scowl plastered to her face. "I never asked questions, but Mia--basically my P.I.--always gave me a background check on every target before I blew their heads off. You just happened to be special enough to be kept alive."

"This is the best and concise way I can explain it is this: someone at Resi sold off some arms to FHG and a man named Hampton Ferris was blamed for the incident, under the guise that the ship had some sort of fault navigational system. I've got a good idea of who was involved at Resi, but the only way to prove anything is go through your company's ship logs and see if any of your vessels happened to cross paths with our ship..."


-------


Mia never took off on Flight 287, bound for Rio de Janeiro. Instead, she was chloroformed by the two men in her flight, carried out the plane, and thrown into a black van. She awoke hours later to find herself tied to a metal chair in some dingy six-by-ten pulled straight out of a North Korean max security. A lone, flickering bulb hanging high from the ceiling was the only source of light in this dungeon of a cell...

OOC: Sorry about the delay, lets get this thing moving again.

"Ya forgoten someone JJ?"
Lace lent against the ladder, watching JJ fumble around in the sewage. After a little while she knelt down, grabbed hold of the ladder with one hand and offered the other to JJ.
"Too late to do anything about it now. We best be moving."
The light in the tunnels was more than bad enough to mask the beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead. A trickle of blood ran down the side of her dirt encrusted face.
"And now ya smell. No matter, there is a reactor outflow around here somewhere. Nice clean hot water. That'll get ya sorted."

Different people react in different ways to the same drugs. Maybe it was the years of malnutrition, maybe it was the head wound, but the poison dart was hitting Lace hard.
"We got a ways to go, and it's this way. I tell you how I ended up in this dive? Well, once upon a time there was woman, and she loved a man and they had a little boy. He wasn't a scientist, or manager or anything like that, just a factory worker but he did his best to make life as nice as possible on the tiny little wage the company payed him. She stayed at home, partly to look after the boy, partly because she couldn't get a job anyhow. Anyways, they had each other, an they expressed their love in the good old fashioned way - they screwed like rabbits at christmass. But the drugs fail - well, actually they couldn't afford them that month, the little boy had needed new shoes - and she ends up pregnant. Thing is, they are only allowed one child. And they allready have a snotty little boy.
'Have an abortion' says her husband
'Kill the damn kid' says her doctor 'You can't look after it'
'It's my damn kid' says her 'And ain't none of you gonna kill it.'"
By now Lace was drifting in and out of delerium, and whilst she was cognisent for a few moments, there were many more when her words were slurred and near incomprehensible.
"And so she has this kid, a little girl as it happens. Of course, the doctor was quite right, and she had to give the kid away to an orphanage. I still remember that orphanage. It wern't a place fit for a person to live. We were just herded into rooms and fed slop. Of course, there wasn't enough slop to go around and you had to fight for it. Wardens thought it was funny, all these little kids fighting over a couple of buckets of gunge. Wardens liked to hear us scream too. They would kick us, maybe pour boiling water on us. Just to hear us scream. You wanted anything, you had to fight off all the other kids, just to keep hold of this little dolls head or whatever it was. Lots of kids died there, lots and lots of kids. Ya know, sometimes I wounder if that was the point? After all, it's not like anyone actually wanted us. I remember seeing this little boy one day, he got himself hold of a razorblade, and he ran it clean through his throat, just like he saw in the movies. Yeah, the wardens liked to watch horror movies. I remember how content he looked afterwards, and thinking I wanted a go. I couldn't, some boy got to the razor before me and kept it. Just to spite everyone. He didn't use it, just kept hold of it to annoy us."
She saw a light bouncing down the corridor. Something on an instinctive level told her that it wasn't a robot, because robots could see in the dark. She circled round, aiming to appear behind them so she didn't have to look through the light. The dried blood in the corner of her mouth tasted salty.
"I must have been five when the Sisters of St Mary found me. Only good in a bad, bad place if you ask me. They saved my life, ain't no doupt about that. They ran another orphanage, different part of down, it was funded by charity donations or something. Anyway, they treated me better. Taught me counting, basic medicne. Taught be how to slip a lock too. But ya wanna know what they realy taught me? They taught me that ya don't lie down for nobody. They taught me that ya ain't looking for something worth living for, ya looking for something worth dying for. Without that teaching, I'd be dead a dozen times over by now."
Where Lace came from, you didn't show weakness. You didn't show it because then people picked on you. And so she carried on, her feet stumbling over the detritus on the floor and her eyes barely focusing on the darkness ahead.
"And the happy ending to the story? There ain't one. Some James Bauer had the place demolished for a stripmall. Sisters ain't saving no-one no more."
She rounded the corner, and came out behind the group with the powerfull torch. Her face was by now white as bone and slick with cold, sticky sweat. Her breathing came in rapid, desperate gasps and her heart was running like a machinegun in her head. She managed to reconise the red/green robes and auburn hair before her.

"So, miss, can ya spare some change like?"

Without even shining his light on the women standing before him, Bauer recognized her pungent aroma--astounding for someone who could pick out a smell like that while standing shin-deep in human excrement. It was amazing that this one hadn't dropped like a rock once the tranquillizer entered her bloodstream, but then again, he'd done so as well. But that was after he had been conditioned for months on end to combat its effects...

As he shone the flashlight upon her face, he immediately recognized who she was--Lace...something or other. Wasn't she one of the protestors outside St. Mary's that the coppers arrested? That was three years ago, about a couple of months before Yearling had hired him into the "service". She looked a lot better then. Young, clean, pretty--for a slum girl.

It was a long pause as James replayed two months in two minutes when he finally spoke.

"Lace, right...?" Wait...there's two of them. Whatever happened to the third guy? "Where's your other friend?"

Elwin Sherbull hated soup: he hated the smell, despised the heat, resented the vegetables and had a murderous rage for beef n' barley. Sadly, such was his lot in life: he was the Soupman. Every day, he would drag his weary and somewhat emaciated body from beneath the moth-eaten blanket he called "bed" and make his way to his job at the soup kitchen, under the watchful eyes of the waning moon. He would toil from dawn to dusk, ladling out bowl after bowl of watery boullion to the dregs of humanity who lived and died in the streets. He hated these vagrants almost as much as he hated his job, but not as much as he hated HIMSELF.

Elwin was not always a Soupman: in earlier days, a lifetime ago, he had been a moderately successful bean-counter with the Resi Corp., with a mildly-frumpy wife and 2 rambunctious children. He paid his taxes, watched bad TV, had some discrete encounters with an occassional low-priced streetwalker, mowed his lawn and drank bourbon at more than a casual pace. Life was not good, but it wasn't bad either. It just WAS.

On a day much like every other day in his subpar existance, Elwin had left for work, back to the same small accounting department he'd toiled at for 17 years, forgetting to kiss his wife on the way out the door. It was a moment he would later regret, for it was the last time he would see her alive.

Work was long, frustrating and filled with numbers, calculations and his weasel-like Boss breathing down his neck. As he finished his day and cleared his desk, he began to look forward to getting home and pouring himself a long pull from his Jim Beam bottle. He left the office, unbuttoning his overcoat due the late afternoon sun. As his public transport pulled up to his street corner, he could see the flashing lights of numerous police cruisers and public security vehicles blocking access to his street. His heart beating rapidly, he began to run towards his home, only to be stopped by 2 large security officers who would not let him pass.

It was many hours later when he would find out that his wife and children had been found dead in his home, violently torn and horribly mutilated. Their blood covered the floor like a thick shag rug, and body parts and organs were strewn throughout the house, many of them with what appeared to be bite-marks in them. The kindly police chaplain that explained this to him later mentioned that "the light seemed to go out of Elwins eyes" when he was told of this horrific tragedy.

The investigation was cursory, and over before it began. With no clear motive for this massacre, the police seemed content to label this as a random act, probably committed by one of the many transients in the city.

The file was put to rest, and Elwins old life was put to pasture. Very rapidly, his world began to unravel: because of his depression, he lost his job and in turn, the mortgage on his home. His car vanished in the thick of the night at the hands of a repo man, and his in-laws shunned him, blaming him for not dying with their daughter and grandchildren. He found himself alone and broken, with nothing left but the clothes on his back and a slowly burning ember of anger inside him.
"All I have now is vengeance..." he thought " and vengeance is MINE."

The next day he volunteered at the local soup-kitchen for the homeless. The Administrators were quickly impressed with the efforts he gave on a daily basis, and for the empathy he showed to the mass of discouraged humanity who came through the doors. They could not conceive that Elwin was not being a warm-hearted Samaritan, but rather that he was being a cold-hearted detective, sifting throught the drunken mumblings and shadowy, whispered tales of the bums and hobos, who loved having Elwin as a rapt and attentive audience. He knew that eventually, he would discover who had stolen his life from him and that on that day, more than just soup would be spilled.

In the meanwhile, he ladled another bowl of broth and stoked the fire of retribution that burned inside of him.

EDIT: Added Resi Corp for continuity. Hope y'all don't mind another twist.

*bump

((OOC: Sorry about the delay on my end, the hend of this week has been hell for me.))
Hampton, still lying in the street, sat up and looked around. He was a bit dazed now, and all he realized was that whatever the hell had happened had moved away from him, and JJ had most likely been dragged off with it. He saw a figure standing over him, but because of his throbbing head and the blinding sun he couldn't quite make out who or what it was. It pointed at him, said something that was most likely english but he couldn't understand anyway, and grabbed his shoulder and shook him up. As he felt the steely mandibles grasp his shoulder, he knew at once it was a robot of some type, but he couldn't tell what make it was. Before he knew it, he was lifted off his feet and he had the distinct impression that he was flying.

Then all was black.
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Although he smelled worse than before, if that was possible, JJ was now awake. That was what counted to him, especially if it ment he could get away from all the crazy robots running around.
"Ah, but Lacy," he mumbled, as they waded through the darkness of the sewer together, "you could have a future if you're lucky. Just break into a lower-middle-class home, take a shower, steal whatever clothes fit you, and you could look semi-professional. You could become a model, or something. I'd help just as long as you promised not to forget me when you got rich."
He said this last sentence with a wink, which was probably invisible in the dank blackness of the sewer.
Climbing to the surface with Lace, JJ watched as she attempted to get some money off of the man. Begging was a crime, quite literally, that he himself had been guilty of on many an occasion. It's not like one could help but panhandle from time to time, that is if they wanted anything marginally nice. There were those who had got begging down to a science, and JJ had even heard of a transiant who became rich enough through shear diligence in his begging that he managed to get a hole-in-the-wall apartment, with cable TV. Cable TV! JJ had only had a chance to watch cable at his leasure once in his life, when he was ransacking some poor sap's home. He didn't like to rob people, but he did it when he had nothing left and no one would give anything. In any case, he was able to watch about 15 minutes of CNN before being forced out by a security alarm, in which they reported, ironically enough, on the rising rate of crime.
But his mind was wondering.
He came back to his senses just in time to hear mention of Hampton.
"Yeah, there was a third guy named Hampton..." he cut in, "we call him Ham for short. I think he was back there in the robots, but I'm sure he..."
At this moment, Unit #10 flew over their heads carrying Hampton.
"...got out somehow." JJ finished, as his jaw dropped.

Bauer spun to face his adversary, illuminating both it and the human he had been carrying. "Oh my God...Hampton?" It was him alright, ragged clothes and all. The robot held him in its metallic arms, cradling his small frail body.

The shock pistol was quickly unholstered and aimed at the R-5, then lowered upon Bauer came upon the realization that the shot would be amplified by the robot's circuitry and transferred onto Hammy--with him dead, his new mission would be meaningless.

Then he remembered...Wasn't there some sort of deactivation code that Yearling told them to use against police units? Nictu, Veratu...no wait, that's from a different movie. What was the movie that Yearling had extracted that from...? Blade Runner.

Slowly, he recanted the quote. "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die..."

With the beam still shining upon them, he waited for the robot to back off...

Tuesdays were always Elwin’s favorite day, simply because Tuesday was Alphabet Soup day. Like the druidic shaman that came before him, Elwin put much portent in what the floating letters would tell him. Gazing deeply into the steaming vat, Elwin let his mind float as free as the pasta symbols that bobbed in the soup. Slowly, a word assembled itself.

“Laughter?” thought Elwin, with surprise,” I guess today will bring a smile?” This brought a warm glow to an unused spot in his soul, for happiness was something that was becoming increasingly foreign to him. He turned away to grab his crooked ladle, and missed the final letter that floated to the surface. Elwin never noticed when “laughter” turned to “slaughter”.

As he scraped yesterday’s memories from the pile of encrusted bowls that never seemed to diminish, Elwin noticed that many of the street-people had stopped eating to stare enraptured out the front window of the soup kitchen. Following their gaze, he could see that there was much activity outside. As he stepped from behind the counter to get a better view of the action, he saw a huge car come barreling to a screeching halt, flames pouring from its interior.

In shock, Elwin almost missed the phoenix-like vision that rolled out of the vehicle, clothes smoldering, with a deadly looking weapon in her hand. As she righted herself, Elwin caught a glimpse of her and almost fainted on the spot. He knew this beautiful Elfling, in fact he had even been in her presence on 2 occasions. She was the trade rep known as Anarial, he was sure of it. He had been a low-ranking accountant, attached to the 4th sub-division of the Resi Corp., specializing in inter-galactic transportation of robots and other weapons of destruction. His boss at the time, Mr.Merris, had brought Elwin to a few trade meetings to show him the ropes, and to carry the thick piles of paperwork these events always generated. He remembered falling into Anarial’s eyes at their first meeting, and the haunting memory of her never truly left his mind.

Before he could do more than gape in astonishment, a wall of Tin Men arrived on the scene. When the robotic enforcers began to land, circling the burning vehicle, all the transients around Elwin took this as their cue to vanish. He stood alone in the now deserted dining room, watching the drama unfold outside his window. The billowing smoke covered his view, and when it cleared, the Elf was gone. The police robots began to secure the scene, rousting hobos and street-people back to their hidey-holes. Elwin took this as his cue to retreat to the safety of the kitchen. As he approached the giant vat of soup, another word floated to the top…not a word actually, but a name:

“BAUER”

Elwin was confused, as the name meant nothing to him. As he searched his memory for some connection to this “Bauer”, another word slowly assembled itself before his eyes:

“REVENGE”

*bump

OOC: Good job Gawdly...now the plot thickens 8)

OOC: the plot thickens, and yet becomes clear.

“Throw me higher Daddy! HIGHER!!!”
Jessica Sherbull was a cherubic young lass, with her mothers good looks and her fathers quiet demeanour. She was light as a feather, and Elwin could spend hours throwing her into the air, hearing her squeals of delight before catching her safely in his arms. She had a certain fresh and honest smell about her, and Elwin nuzzled her blonde locks as he held her tightly against him.
“Again, Daddy!” Elwin smiled at her innocent gaze, and threw her up, higher than ever…he stood there waiting for her to come down, which of course, she never did. She was with the angels now, and he would never feel her warm heart beating again. This was the same dream as always, and it never had a happy ending.

Elwin dragged his weary soul from his bed, another day of toiling in the soup-kitchen as his only reward for enduring the pain that had become his life. But today was different, in it’s own way: Elwin now had a name to focus on, a name he could put all his anger and sorrow on, a name that would lead him to revenge: Bauer.

Though it had been many years since he last worked there, the Resi Corporation was his first stop. Using dusty connections that he had established within the Information wing of the Resi Corp, Elwin pulled in his few remaining favors, once and for all burning the last bridge to his old life. What he discovered would provide to him a newfound energy and resolve.

Elwin’s boss had lost his job because of a botched warbot transfer, which explained why Mr. Merris had suddenly stopped coming into work. Elwin remembered that he had been working on that file, and had found some discrepancies that he wanted to report, but Mr. Merris had been released, and the file was no longer Elwin’s responsibility. Shortly after, his family had been murdered, and Elwin had become the Soupman.

He also discovered that there were 719 “Bauers” in the greater metropolitan area, none of which had a criminal record. The woman who had given him this information, Wendy Fusbuquet, also mentioned that there had been a high-ranking Resi Corp Officer named Bauer floating around the offices recently…this was very hush-hush, and she only knew this because she had overheard his name as she brought her boss and Bauer their morning coffee. Elwin used what was left of his man-wiles to seduce Wendy into trying to unearth more information about this mysterious Resi Corp employee.

He felt in his heart that THIS was the connection he had been seeking, and he went to work feeling energized for the first time in many years. On his way, he made one last stop at the Store n’ Go, a local storage rental facility. In his small locker, he withdrew a hand-carved wooden case from beneath a stack of papers.

In it was the only gift his late brother ever gave him. Balthazaar Sherbull had been a sergeant in the 9th Motorized Containment Unit, attached to the Resi Corp, and whose sole purpose was to monitor, pacify and repel rebellious employees of corporations who were taken over by the massive business-beast known as Resi Corp. During a hostile takeover on Orion Prime, the MCU had been attacked by a well-trained and highly equipped group of Teamsters.

The battle was fierce, and when the dust cleared, the Teamsters were all dead and their strike effectively finished. As he checked the bodies to make sure they were dead, Balthazaar pocketed a small Mac 20 Plasma pistol, a particularly nasty little weapon that one of the Teamsters had been wielding. He passed it to Elwin for safe-keeping, and never returned for it due to the fact that most of his face was blown off during the Labor Union uprising on Vagrant 6.

Elwin stroked the small pistol, satisfied that the weapon still had almost a full charge. It had also been modified with the HeatSeek, a targeting device that would lock onto individual heat-signatures given off by a human body. He didn’t even have to be accurate: point, lock-on, squeeze trigger. Sliding it into the inner pocket of his ratty trench-coat, Elwin closed the door and began the short journey back to the soup kitchen.

For the first time in a lifetime, Elwin whistled all the way to work.

*bump

OOC: Where did everyone else go? I really can't do much unless Menelcamar, Resi, and Irregulars respond... :cry:

* el bumpo

I too, await the continuation. Elwin will find out about Bauer's hit on Anarial, but not know that Merris and Bauer have a connection, or that Bauer has decided NOT to kill Anarial. He will hunt Bauer for revenge, and to prevent the hit. Hopefully, he will meet up with Hammy Merris as well...and in a perfect world, he will find love once again, perhaps with the street-urchin known as Lace.

Weez all a-waiting on the rest of you writers!!

*bump

OOC: Come on guys...Menelcamar, Irregulars, Resi. If you want to end the thread, say so. That way I don't have to deal with this cliffhanger.

*Bump

OOC: Anyone? Hello? Echo....echo....echo.......

*bump

Looks like just you and me left...lets have Bauer and Elwin meet up, and spend the day drinking in a strip bar!

I'll drink to that Gawdly. It's about time we high-tailed outta this joint! 8)

Come, Patsy!!! *ticka tock ticka tock ticka tock ticka tock...*

OOC: In all seriousness...how long do we wait before abandoning hope?? I don't know about you, but this sorta saddens me: I was REALLY enjoying this little space-opera...

Pluuueze finish the story guys...I'm facinated and it's such a nice break from The Reich.
BTW, Great witing. I mean that. :wink:

As Gawdly probably feels, I would like this story to continue as well. However, Resi and Menelcamar seem to be doing their own thing right now. I already TGed Menelcamar reminding her about the current RP but got no reply...Hopefully this post bumps the thread up and both of them notice.

Ramadoon, I tried to TG you with no luck. If you want to RP with me look up my latest thread..Reich-Rome vs. Holy Roman Empire. I usually RP under other people's threads but your writing inspired me.

Sorry about the intrusion guys..like I said TGs not working at the moment.

Ramadoon, I tried to TG you with no luck. If you want to RP with me look up my latest thread..Reich-Rome vs. Holy Roman Empire. I usually RP under other people's threads but your writing inspired me.

Sorry about the intrusion guys..like I said TGs not working at the moment.

*BUMP*

Any chance this will keep going? PUH-LEEEEZE!

*FINAL BUMP*

ooc:Sorry I was missing. Net connection probs. Should be cured.

There was part of her history where she had lied. She had lied simply because she didn't know the truth. She had told JJ that St Marys was funded by charity dontations. She was wrong. St Marys had been funded by an overseas government to give them a base of operations. She had said it had been shut down to build a stripmall. It had definately had a stripmall built ontop of it's ruins, but it had been shut down because it was a spy network.
As she was walking along with JJ, before they turned the corner and bumped into everyone, she answered his statement. "JJ, I don't walk and I certainly don't talk like some wageslave. Ma shoulder is a mass of scar tissue, an I would fail the medical on a dozen different grounds. It ain't ever quite that easy. Surely ya know that by now?" She glanced behind her. "Besides JJ, we have a future, and don't ya ever let anyone tell ya elsewise."

She was leaning casualy against the wall, trying to look for all the world like she was calm, relaxed and unafraid. In reality she lent against that wall because she could barely stand. Her breath came in rapid, desperate gulps that made speaking hard.
She looked Bauer up and down slowly before answering his question. Mostly because it took her a good few seconds to pull her delerious mind together enough to reply.
"Yeah, ma name is Lace...." Another few seconds of silence as she stared at him "I'm kinda curious as to how come ya know it."
A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she saw a Tinman overhead.
And then she heard the name Bauer called it's passenger. 'Hampton'. 'Hampton Merris' perhaps? She new the name, where did she know the name from? Who's name was it? And then she remembered.
Hampton Merris was the man who had passed the law that restricted how many children you could have. Hampton Merris was the man who was untimately responsible for putting her on the street from birth, and the years of pain that followed. She had a score to settle with Hampton Merris.
She looked over the body the tinman held in his arms. She shook her head slowly, trying to make it work. Well, Merris was a player in Resi, so this wasn't Merris. Hampton something definately, but clearly not Hampton Merris.

Still the robot and Bauer stood there, staring at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move.

She pulled a small screwdriver from one of her many pockets, and palmed it. Delicate fingers reached out, and touched the back of the tinman everso gently. Fingers trained by a lifetime of desperate mesures gently unscrewed the backplate. Her movements were smooth, measured and carefull. The various movement and anti-tamper sensors inside that Tinman never stood a chance against the deliberate movements of a young girl with a driving need to live just another few hours. She found the 'On/Off' switch, and watched as the Tinman sank slowly to the floor. Then she replaced the backplate, just as carefully as she had removed it.
There was no sign that she had just done something monumentally stupid.

You didn't pick fights with Tinmen because there was allways another two around the corner. You didn't pick fights with Tinmen because you just couldn't win.

She lent against the wall again, because the adrenalin was starting to wear off and she was getting the shakes. Somewhere within herself she found the strength to speak an entire sentance clearly.
"Will ya please stop shooting at them?". The rest of the speach was drawn out between frequent gasps of air. "They faster and stronger than ya. And they just keep coming. Stop picking fights, cause sooner or later ya gonna lose."

She turned her gaze towards JJ.
"Can't stay here. Must move." She thought about places to go to. "Do you know Elwin? Lets try Elwin."

<<OOC>> WOOT!! IT'S ALIVE!!!

Lace held her hand up in resignation.
"Listen, I don't care what ya got to say, this ain't the place to say it. We long overdue for some company."
And she turned and moved off through the shaddows towards the house of someone who she barely knew.

Clumsily she slipped the lock, leaving several scratches that clearly marked her actions. She closed the door behind her, and looked around the room. Nobody. A sound of movement to her right. She moved into the lounge, and scanned around. Peering over the sofa were two little eyes, and a mop of blonde hair. Lace kneeled down, and placed a finger to her lips.
"Shhh. It's a secret."
The blond eyes stared at her, and then nodded slightly. Nearly everything was a game to small children. Lace walked around, and pulled a bar of chocolate from a random pocket. She handed it to the wide-eyed girl.
"Don't tell daddy, ok?"
She pulled herself back to her feet again, and headed for the bathroom. She saw a bed through an open doorway.
It had been years, literaly, scine she had last rested in a real bed.
Five minutes. Just five minutes. Time enough to get her breath back and her head together.
Lace lay down and fell into long overdue sleep.


"Ladys and Gentlemen, if you would please switch off all electronic equipment and telephones, we shall be landing in Brazil shortly."
The screen on Mia's laptop was covered in technicolour symbols and lines.
"Come on James, I can't keep you alive forever."
Mia closed the laptop and began to put it back in her carrying luggage, greatfull that the flight was almost over. There was a rental car, a five star hotel and a toilet waiting for her ten minutes after she landed - business class was a wounderfull thing. The toilet on the airplane contained two latin men, and so was labeled 'Out of Order'.

OOC: Yes, after a long hiatus, the thread is up and running! Send the heralds to announce it to the masses! :lol: But before we can start, we need to TG Resi, Menelcamar, and whoever else is involved...

OOC: Done, when I added the first post. Anyone who actually posted a contribution should have got a TG from me. Including you, Ramadoon ;).

Edit: Added the following IC content. Because contentless posts are boring and wrong. heh heh.

Mia was the last person off the plane. There was only one of the crew standing by the door now and he was the captain.
"I understand Miss Hodgekiss has some extra baggage. Do you have any special handling instructions?"
Mia nodded politely to the captain. "Box them up, ship them back. First class, cargo class. I want them back in Resi cold, dead and soon."
"It shall be so."
"It would be terrible if someone were to reach the dreadfully misguided opinon that they could get away with sending anyone else after me."
"Indeed"
"Samuel, you have been the soul of professonalisum and discretion as allways. The check for yourself and your assosiates is not only large, but also en route as we speak."
"Allways a pleasure Miss Hodgekiss."
She practically bounced down the exit ramp, then headed towards a very fast car. She climbed in, pulled a phone out of her bag, threw the bag behind the seat and let her hair down. She then switched the sterio on to LOUD. There were some speed limits just waiting to be broken.

Sucker love is heaven sent
You pucker up, our passion's spent
My hearts a tart, your body's rent
My body's broken, yours is spent

As she cleared the town proper,she just put her foot down and reached into the glovebox where she pulled out a bottle of tequila which she removed the cap from in a practiced motion, flicked it over her shoulder into oblivion and put the bottle to her lips.

Carve your name into my arm
Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed
'Cause there's nothing else to do
Every me and every you

Ah, this was the life. Wind in her hair and a powerfull car, in her hands. Responding as she bid it, begging to go just that bit faster, corner just that bit harder.

Sucker love, a box I choose
No other box I choose to use
Another love I would abuse
No circumstances could excuse

Now all she had to do was make a phone call.

In the shape of things to come.
Too much poison come undone
'Cause there's nothing else to do
Every me and every you
Every me and every you
Every me, me

"Extension 78864 please."

Sucker love is known to swing
Prone to cling and waste these things
Pucker up for heavens sake
There's never been so much at stake

Pick up the phone you old git.

I serve my head up on a plate
It's only comfort, calling late
'Cause there's nothing else to do
Every me and every you
Every me and every you
Every me, me

Come on, I havn't got all day.

Every me and every you,
Every me, me

"Oh yes, it's me. Alive and well as you can hear."

Like the naked leads the blind
I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind
Sucker love I always find
Someone to bruise and leave behind

"How long did we say I had? A week?"

All alone in space and time
There's nothing here but what here's mine
Something borrowed, something blue

"I take your pawns, and move my knight to check. Your move."

Every me and every you
Every me and every you
Every me, me

Every me and every you
Every me, me

With that said, Mia hung up the phone and got back to grinning.

START OOC:
Doh! I have just realised I have used the Mia Hodgekiss character without permission. I apologise profusely for this rude mistake.
Ramadoon, I will be happy to delete/edit the posts as you wish.

As I am here, I think I should probably add a copyright/disclamer thing.
If full credit is given, permission is granted to:
Repoduce any of my work, unaltered, in any medium for non profit purposes.
Typeset/format my work freely in the course of repoduction.
Correct any spelling errors outside of character speach in the course of reproduction.
Freely use any of the ideas, characters etc for non profit perposes.

To other thread contributors, you may freely use any of the material I have introduced, but I would like to continue writing Lace myself. You may develop her background/history etc, but please don't actually use the character directly.

Cheers, sorry for the bother.

Now, where were we with this story?

END OOC.

Edit: Dupicate post

Edit: Triplicate post. Sigh. If a mod wants to trash this and the dupicate, feel free.
Sorry for the spam.

OOC: Sorry about the continuity error. Here's a correction for it...

The lockup hadn't got any more pleasant. It still contained Mia Hodgekiss tied to a chair, and two ugly men who seemed to enjoy asking her questions and then hitting her when she claimed not to know the answers. The door of the lockup flew open and crashed upon it's hinges. A gruff man in his mid fiftys was standing in the doorway, and he looked thunderous.
The two men jumped at the sudden movement, and seemed to reconise the intruder.
"Gentlemen." The intruder started. There was something in the way he said 'gentlemen' that made it feel like he was saying 'nasty little worm things'.
"Gentlemen." He continuned, just to empasise his low opinion of them. "I have just got off the phone."
The two men looked a little cowed, and confused. Taking phone calls was not normally a reason to receive what was obviously going to be quite a telling off.
"I just got off the phone from speaking TO MIA HODGEKISS! Now, Gentlemen, correct me if I am wrong, but that should be impossible, no?"
"Yes sir. I mean no sir. I mean, impossible, yes sir."
"It should be impossible because Mia Hodgekiss should be tied up in this very room, no?"
"Yes sir."
The intruder walked over to the figure tied to the chair, and pulled the bag off of her head. She winced in the light.
"Gentlemen, does this look like Mia Hodgekiss to you?"
"Yes sir." He looked over her. She didn't look like Mia Hodgekiss to him.
"Gentlemen, when last I checked Miss Hodgekiss had blue eyes, was taller and had considerably more cleavage than THIS PERSON!"
"No. Sir."
"What do you mean NO SIR!?!?"
"Not according to the datafiles you gave us. Sir."
"Give me that." He grabbed the datafile. The goon was correct. At the top of the page it said 'Mia Hodgekiss', and then went on to describe someone completely different. The intruder ran out to his car and grabbed a briefcase. He opened the case, and switched on the laptop inside. He then started frantically pressing buttons.
"Wrong." He said to himself. "All wrong." Just as he was about to curse because Mia had swaped her personel files for someone else, his phone rang.
"Yes."
"Sir, about the two field agents, Clark and Mhann, you sent with the diplomatic bag to Rio."
"Yes?" Somewhere in the back of his mind a penny dropped.
"Well sir, they just got back."
"And they are dead. Yes, I know. Poor bastards, wrong place wrong time. Did you know Clark worked with Hodgekiss in the Inteligence department for three months?"
"Sir, I don't follow."
"Hodgekiss wasn't on the first flight to Rio. A plant was. Hodgekiss was on the second. And thouse two poor bastards just happened to be there, just happened to know her, and were smart enough to work out that she shouldn't have been there. So now they are dead."
"So, what do you want me to do, sir?"
"I will get back to you on that sargent."

OOC: Oh bother. It looks like this thread actually *is* dead. Thats a shame.