[IC] No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

[Gardevoiran]

@AngelofOctober@Regitnui

"Am I really going to go through with joining this... whore... and Kimber, in the whore's penthouse?" Abigail calmly removed her mask and rubbed her eyes, deciding between tagging along with the duo or heading back to the Lab for her research.

"... goddammit." Abigail left her mask off as she looked back up at Kimber and Asterisk. She had little choice, really. It was gonna be her getting to know these two or her becoming the weirdo of the team. That being said, she tried to get a read on the thoughts of Asterisk, but it was especially cloudy. Too cloudy. This'd be an experience to learn how Asterisk works in depth since her mind was like a brick wall to Abigail's powers.

"I have nothing better to do..." Abigail sighed as she grabbed her drink and downed it in one final gulp. The comment about being the Maiden of Boners was rather rude, but it was forgiven. She's obviously thinking of boners anyway, so mixing up the words was fine this once. "Call me Abigail."

Then Kimber said something about pizza.

This had to be how Baigo felt. Jesus fuckin' Christ, this was gonna be a night she'd regret.

[TheRedWatcher]

@Old Amsterdam

The Nazi left just like that. It is always surprising isn’t it? What people still believe in, even when there is universal loathing towards that belief. Even Germany was against their own history. Yet, there is a Nazi. No matter how you put it, it still sounded weird. Bodies piled up in shocking photographic histories. Countless histories. Countless atrocities. Yet there is a Nazi.

He turns to the woman he had talked to before this. Who also just happened to be in his team. He takes a second. Only a second. Looks at her. Guess he should actually talk.

“I have to,” he pauses as he clears his throat, “Meet some breeders. Would you like to tag along,” another second, “for extra protection?”

[Old Amsterdam]

@TheRedWatcher

---

Allison watched the Nazi leave the bar with interest. Tentacle loli was... Kinda hot, she had to admit.

With a shake of her head, Allison looked towards Chroma asking her words....
Questions! My, was she glad she wasn't speaking aloud as she lost herself to the sway of hips of the Nazi....

She glanced back at Chroma, nodding mostly to herself.. "Yeah, that sounds interesting enough, honestly. Maybe we can discuss future situations and plans. Or just get to know each other, yeah?" She said quietly, taking hold of Vincent's hand and tugging gently towards to exit. "I don't have a vehicle, but I can follow easily enough. Or ride with you. Whatever."

[A Lowly Wretch]

Omnivore

If she still had lips to move she'd of been grinning like crazy as she elicited a most delightful response from Rubert like the big dumb vegetable he was. His tantrum spurred a girlish giggle form herself. He was as amusing as he was sluggish. He was so unthreatening to her in fact that she didn't make a single motion to avoid the splinters when he put his fists partways into the bar top.

As if to answer her question in person the beefiest fellow in the bar made his introductions, as did the beanpole who crashed through the window. Her gaze dropped to the hand the large british guy extended her. Reaching out from underneath the white tarp was something that looked like five claw shaped short swords joined together by the palm. Due to the disparity between their finger lengths her claws wound up coiling up his forearm like a sort of ornate bracelet until her full hand had a grip on his arm.

With that she shook his hand. His grip was strong, perhaps as strong as hers was. It was impressive for a normie to get this strong, not even most mutants were able to score muscles like that. One thing was for certain: He was no normal normie. Maybe an abnormie.

"Name's Anny! Good to meet'cha Oz. For Person's sake I hope you both don't die too quick." After letting go of his arm, leaving a set of shallow marks on his skin upon releasing her hold, she tucked her claws back under the disguise and looked over to see all their agents leaving.

_
"Hey Person, Let me know who I gotta kill as soon as you can! Don't keep 'ya girl waiting~" She called out to her agent, able to lilt the end of her sentence in a cutesy manner since all she needed to do to raise her voice was pump up the volume of her speaker. She hoped he could hear her since she wasn't gonna hunt him down just to make sure.

As she was disappointed in the level of killing that transpired there she felt quite fine with leaving the bar and taking off to less public territory. From an observers view the mass under the tarp would seem to be just sliding across to the end of the bar as she skittered over. In a fluttering blur the sheet flew from the bar out onto the city street, cracking the end of the bar in half from the sheer force of her leap whilst leaving several holes through it's wooden surface. She managed to clear the street itself entirely for that matter, landing right on the sidewalk opposite to the bar. In another powerful jump she launched up from the street right to the top of a utility pole.

Letting go of a corner of her tarp briefly she reached down with her tongue and clamped onto the power line. The buildings on the block's lights all flickered as she siphoned away their electricity. After giving herself a bit of an energy boost she leapt straight up to the roof of the tallest building nearby in a single bound. Her jumps were so fast the wind whipped against her tarp with fierce rapidity. If it weren't for the fact the ends were clamped down the wind would of very well blown her guise clear off. As it was those below were left only to look upon the back of the blank white figure as it quickly slipped past the edge of the roof top and into the dark of night.

[TheRedWatcher]

&

Holding hands. A person to person exchange. Giddy with excitement being lead to an exit. Vincent wasn’t use to giddiness. Most the time conversations ended in I’ll fuck your brains out. Probably from some kid who did not understand the context of brain matter on walls. Gritty. Grainy. Bits of fractured skull. Or I’ll skull fuck you. Vincent’s not even sure how that works. The fragile edges of the skull would probably damage something before you even got an erection.

“..” Vincent clears his throat, “Walking.” he says, as they exit out of the bar. Onto the streets. Paradise. So sheltered and far away from fields glowing orange. And the sound of crying children. He remembers something like this. Hands. Holding hands. Taking a girl out of a building. Taken from her home. To be used and discarded like a tissue on the floor of dirty apartment.

“We can,” Vincent paused, “Do both.” he takes a second, “plan for the future. And exchange conversation.” he takes another moment, “As long as.” Vincent points left, “it doesn’t bother you the way I speak.”

Allison laughed lightly, shaking her head. ”Please, at least I can understand you. The only thing that bothers me is not being able to track down a certain assassin who holds information I need,” she replied with a slight flourish of her free hand. ”Perhaps later we can find the Nazi and do some damage somewhere. She seems like a blitzing tank. I'm a sneaky, recon, silent killer. You seem a little between us, just by appearances. I think we'll do well together.”

An assassin who holds information she needs? Perhaps he’d take the offer. He had been so use to working in a little corner he hadn’t done team building in a while.

“The Nazi seems,”...“to be a wildcard,” Vincent cracks his knuckles before continuing, “Team building exercises. Are always good ways to find. Combos. Weaknesses.” How much should he give? They were a team. How long has it been that he worked with people? “I am trained in a number of skill sets. Martial. Stealth. Weaponry. I was part of a recon team. But I was called for combat roles as well. When we were low manpower.”

”Mhmm, yes. It'll be alright. Maybe we can go after someone higher in the lists, help all of us.” Allison lifted her mask, her lips raising in a smile. ”God, the air feels nice.”

Her grip on his hand tightened briefly as she let him see her face. ”You'll see it eventually, but I do expect you to take my face to the grave… Or until my vengeance is done.”

He points to take the next right. He’s taken a lot of things to the grave. Taken a lot of secrets with him. Like invisible dog tags people couldn’t see you wear. He doesn’t make note of it. Death is death. He just nods acknowledging her request.

“My name is Vincent,” he tells her, “Not that my name matters. Everything important to the name. Is dead.In here.” He said pointing to a short detour through an alleyway, “The air is nicer. Pollution always smells better. Than burning bodies.”

”Mhmm, yes, I can agree. The mask filters some, but it's no gas mask. Rotting bodies aren't much better, either, and I've dealt with both,” she agreed quietly. ”Allison, by the by.”

Vincent nods. Picking at his jacket to get a fuzz ball off, letting it fall to the sidewalk. Rolling away.

“When I do laundry. It reminds me of napalm. Both a comfort. And a worry,” Vincent detour ends up in a neighborhood not a business district, “Now. Please do not be. One of those animal loving people and call the animal cops on my supplier.”

”Please, luv, when you pull a blade across a throat and feel the warmth of their life blood flowing out into the world and your hand… When you've seen the Void and what lies within… None of this matters, I guarantee you that.”

The Mark flared to life, visible through her glove, as she activated Dark Vision, taking a good look at the interior living beings inside. Nothing worrying. She relaxed slightly as the Mark faded.

”The only things that worry me still think I'm dead, I hope.” she added under her breath, pulling her mask back down.

“Lives matter.” Vincent told her, “The most disrespect you could do. Is not give them weight. Respect is still needed. No matter how much dead. I may not remember each individual. But I respect death. I respect life has weight.”

Vincent lead her to a house. Sign reads; Fur Real Pups. The sound of two guard dogs beginning to bark. The sound of someone’s subwoofer from the back of their car. Hanging low on the driveway. Shiny rims. Guys in baggy pants. Black. Not going to go around that. Playfully punching each other. Ladies half dressed sitting on porch lawn chairs sipping drinks. One of the girls threw a piece of paper at Andrei, one of the Steel Siders.

“Chrome, yo, brought a friend”

“.....” Vincent stares.

“ ‘Ight, we got those pups,”

“....”

It doesn’t take long for them to be running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Eventually three puppies were coming. Vincent handed one to Allison lazily.

“Let us go,” he told Allison. This was a transaction he made when they were born.

Allison idly scratched behind the pups ears, running a hand down the soft fur. ”Next stop?

Vincent didn’t think about that. He had forgotten that he needed to pick the pups up today. He couldn’t take the pups back to the warehouse. Not with Allison around. Vincent looked stumped.

“Keep it,” he said dryly, “I’ll give one to the Nazi. She better not eat. Puppies. That’s for Koreans.”

Allison laughed, loud and slightly insane.

Koreans were always doing something weird. Well anyone outside their own culture. Did something weird. But the Nazi did have tentacles. Maybe she ate puppies. Because she wasn’t entirely human. Then again, was he entirely human he wondered?

[AngelofOctober]

Ft.

And a Stripper Disguised as an Assassin - Asterisk

At least there was cooperation. Something in a kid’s show would emphasize how cooperation was good or something. Getting up from the seat of the bar he inhaled and slowly exhaled. There went his money, on two vodka cranberries. Teammates, huh. He was use to these kind of setups in the Grand Church, usually a senior priest with a junior one, teaching them the ropes. Or big clients that needed more manpower.

“Someone going to have to sit in the back,” he said, “Sorry. It’s a sport car. But there it is, my Purple Chariot.” He gives a dramatic hand reveal to his purple sports car, that has been parked crooked in the gutter of the bar.

“She volunteers to sit in the back.” Asterisk said it with a wave at the other member of their team. Her mind was more occupied with how aggressively purple the car was. She'd say it looked like it had been driven through a berry patch, but she still wanted to get laid tonight. “Do you have a thing about valets?”

The purple was a fine color to Abigail. It wasn’t too obnoxiously purple, and it was a good shade. Of course, Abigail’s fondness of the color was likely due to her just liking purple in general. She was a bit miffed that Asterisk volunteered her to sit in the back, but that’s where she wanted to sit anyway. Eh, she’d be okay with it. “It’s not that bad. Kind of nice.”

Kimber looked at Asterisk and forced himself a laugh, “No. Not really. Purple is the color of my family crest. Plus, its a royal color.”

He smiles at Abigail, “She’s got the right idea. Plus there’s a black patch.” He moves away from them to eagerly rush to the driver’s side of the car.

“A gentleman would open the door for his lady guests,” Asterisk pointed out. Not that she couldn't open the door. It was the principle of the thing.

Abigail calmly opened the door and climbed into the backseat after folding the chair forward.

“You're undermining my entire point here, you know!” Asterisk stuck her tongue out at Abigail.

Abigail reached for the door and closed it back, putting herself alone in the car. “There.”

With a huff, Asterisk let herself in. As she sat, she replied, “No, now you've ruined the whole thing. Onward, Handsome. I'll give you directions.” The footwell wasn't as roomy as Asterisk would have liked, and she had to rearrange her legs a few times before she was comfortable.

Kimber put out his cigarette in his ashtray. At least the situation was resolved before his quick tongue got him in trouble. He would have told her she had two choices to stay on the corner where it seemed more fitting for her or get into the car. Abigail at least showed him off this cool rose flower thing. She’s been mounting and kissing him all night, like he paid to be at a strip club. True it would have been a better locale, but that’s not really the point.

Turning the ignition on it was the first time in a long time the Chariot purred instead of giving him trouble. That’s his sweetness. Kissing the steering wheel real quick, thank you for working,0 you beautiful thing. He put up his hands.

“There are two rules,” he said mildly, “The radio is my domain. And we’re going to go lightspeed. Got it. Hope your stomachs can handle it.”

“I reserve the right to sue you if you crash the car and kill us all.” Asterisk remarked. “Left onto the highway, then third exit.”

“I mean… I can’t do shit, so…” Abigail held onto the side of the seat. The driver was reckless, and the passenger wasn’t really helping the situation by basically harassing the driver. Hopefully they wouldn’t die.

“Luckily I have not crashed and you’re lucky I only had two drinks,” Kimber tells her, “Normally I am driving with a lot more than that under my belt.” He kind of gives a childish laugh, before taking the car out of park. The Chariot lurched forward and shot fast out of the gutter. A small scream of surprise marked the first time Asterisk had lost control all evening.

“Jesus fuck!” Abigail muttered under her breath as she felt the car jet. It was crazy and scary… but it was something… kind of fun. It was a good adrenaline rush.

Asterisk put her hand on her chest to slow her beating heart, though the grin on her face belied her surprise. “I've been in planes that haven't accelerated that fast. Remind me to give you a key to the test track.”

Kimber laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” he accelerates to the point of riding someone’s ass, before looking to his side as he does a merge without pause. As he accelerates down the highway ramp at 60 and cuts in front of another driver. The car aggressively challenges anyone in front of it. A roaring engine, as he goes in between traffic.

“Next left!” Asterisk blurted out.

Climbing, the speedometer is climbing in the passing lane, from 60 to 80, as he cuts in front of another car, another merge without pausing as it reaches 85 up to the next left ramp. Soaring, He takes the turn tightly.

“Second right, then stop by the blue light building!”

He never lets on the brake, instead he coast the car to a tight right, the car slides in a perfect angle, nearly sideswiping someone else in another lane before it completely straightens out. It races up the road and comes to a decelerating stop, before a harsh brake. Stopping rather crooked in front of the building with a blue-lit facade.

Asterisk cracks the door open as soon as they stop, spilling out onto the tarmac and taking a deep breath. “You don't assassinate people with car-fu, do you?”

“I mean there was this one time the Priest of the Grand Church was dealing with this client, and the guy talked a lot. Didn’t feel like getting out of the car by the time I came for backup, so I just rammed into him,” Kimber paused, “The car repair was astronomical. And my mother wasn’t too fucking happy about how much it cost. So short story, no. I learned my lesson.”

“Reeves!” Asterisk called for the valet. He helped her up, then went around to the driver's side for the keys. “Penthouse time, kids!” Asterisk remarked

“Ah nah, Reeves is it, no one touches my car,” Kimber said, “Tell me where to park it and that’s what I do.”

Abigail climbed out of the car and began to take off her armor, placing each piece carefully into her bag. The dress underneath remained on, but the armor was significantly uncomfortable during that car ride. It dug into her skin and such. “You… you can really fuckin’ drive…”

Kimber smiles at her widely.

“Yeah I can,” he said, “Hope you had a good time. I always have a good time.”

“Why the hell are you not a getaway driver?” Abigail asked.

“Oh sometimes I can be,” Kimber said, “But you haven’t seen me with a gun yet. Or the other secrets I hold.” he laughs, “No those aren’t strange euphemisms either.”

“To be fair, everyone’s like that,”

Kimber shrugs.

“But not everyone has my history,” he tells her, “I look forward to working with the Maiden of Bones.”

“Same to you, mister Magnum.” Abigail smirked. “... where the fuck is the other one?”

“She found a suitable corner,” Kimber replied quickly and laughed.

Asterisk waved to them from inside the building. She looked slightly shorter, less curvy. “Oi, lazybones, stop flirting and get in. We’re taking the boss elevator.” She pointed them to the express elevators at the left side of the foyer. “Second one from the entrance, press the top button. I have some business to check out before I join you.”

[BCTheEntity]

March 14th, 2XXX

As the next morning rolled around, each fighter awoke- or remained awake, if it mattered- to find that they’d each been left a message on the nearest phone. Whether that was their cell phone, or a landline, it transpired that whoever picked it up was inevitably the intended recipient. Consequently, they were privy to the following texts and/or voice messages:

The Murderous Three

@Old Amsterdam@Lady Selune@TheRedWatcher
Tch... looks like I’ve been... stuck with you......
Guess I’ll have to teach you all “the ropes”................
Don’t cry if you can’t handle it.......... The “assassin’s life” isn’t for everyone......... but you all have the “money” you need for your first “fight” at your level... and only your first...
“The Heretic”... your rank is 124... and your next target is... “Asterisk Hash”... or one of the guys above her... “Redbone”, or “Maria Slant”... so pick “Asterisk’s building”... or the “subway” to the “graveyard”... or “Destroy Stadium”...
“Kraken”, you have a “rank” of 143... and your next target is... “The Maiden of Bones”... but you could also pick “Iron Lobster”... or “Heckfire”... go to the “Necro Lab”... or “West Santa Destroy”, or “Area 51”........
“Chroma”, your next target is... “Ruby Dragon”... tech... looks like you don’t get a “choice” here.............. Go to “Destroy University” to fight her... if you see “The Savile Fist”... well... don’t...
You are all....... VERY likely to die... but as the CEO says... “Trust” your “Force”... only the strong die old...

The Witching Hour

@Gardevoiran@AngelofOctober@Regitnui
Well, aren’t you guys unfortunate? Not only do two of you have members of The Murderous Three breathing down your necks right off the bat, but one of you only holds to the name of the team ironically! Admittedly, that one was a deliberate crack on my part, but whatever.
Anyway, you’ve all been given enough funds to get to your next fight, though after this, you’ll need to earn your keep honest-like. Maiden, you’re at rank 142; assuming Kraken doesn’t decide she wants to try and kill you immediately, you’ve got a choice of either The Iron Lobster or Heckfire to go after - assuming you get to your choice before she does. You’ll want West Santa Destroy for the crustacean, or Area 51 for the fireball.
Silver Prowler, you’re the lucky one here! Not only do you have the highest rank out of everybody, 112, but you’re about safe from The Murderous Three for now too! That also means you don’t get a choice in who you fight next, though: your target is Shippidge Cuddles, and you’re gonna need to fly out to the so-called “Cuddle-Puddle Bitch Hole”, formerly Smiling Souls Correctional Facility in New York state, to catch up with him. The private jet’s been set up at Santa Destroy airport. Have fun with that.
And as for you, Hash... your rank is 123. If the Heretic doesn’t decide to take you out early - oh, and I hope she does - you’ve got either Redbone or Maria Slant as your target. Pick one, preferably not the one Heretic picks, and go either take the subway to the local graveyard, or head to Destroy Stadium.
And to be clear, if Kraken or Heretic decide to try and off one of you guys? Yeah, we’ll tell you.

The United Force

@Dogematix@A Lowly Wretch@Irredeemable
A fake ghost, a Victorian brawler, and a drug addict. A less united force I could not conceive of myself. Heh.

You’ve been wired the money necessary for your next fight, so you’re aware. After this, you’ll have to pay your own way into each battle.

Savile Fist, you’re rank 199. The lowest in the experiment, for reference. Speaking of experiments, look for The Scientist in the cryo lab of Destroy University. You may encounter Chroma at the university too; if you do, ignore him.

Omnivore, you’re at rank 130. You’ll find Rainbow Stakes in the Bow and Arrow Theatre.

Whiteout, you’re rank 146. Maxi Million is in one of the skyscrapers in the Destroy Central Plaza; you’ll get more info on which one precisely when you get there.

Trust your Force, and head for the Garden of Madness.

Anyone checking their bank balances after this would find that they were an appropriate amount of LB$ richer than they had been before, just enough to pay for entrance into their first official ranked match - save Blitzen, who had earned extra to the sum of a single LB dollar after slaying the lower-ranked assassin without being asked. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that such a sum, whilst technically a lot of money, was also a pittance compared to how much she or anyone else would earn by actually trying to rank up.

[Old Amsterdam]

@Regitnui@BCTheEntity

---

Allison stretched, arching her back, before turning her phone on. Surprising she practically exploded with messages from the.... Who was it again? She shrugged as she failed to recall which one was her agent. Probably the weirdo with the flourish and stupid hat.

She had options, and she grinned as she laughed. She wasn't interested in destroying this little system the agents had decided on, but she could throw a small heart attack at them.

Gearing up, she ran a hand along the small puppy curled up on her bed.

"Piss inside and I'll gut your beautiful ass. Bai!" she called cheerily before setting out. It was early morning, the sun was barely coming out, and she moved quickly and silently. Utilizing her Blink ability to stay to the rooftops, Allison stopped across from Asterisk's building. It was unconventional, Allison actually was a little surprised the woman was using a legit office building full of people as a grounding stage, but.... Well, Allison wasn't one to judge. She was one to kill.

A doorman... No, a valet. Maybe? Someone, anyways. A mook? An innocent?

She snorted. No one was innocent.

Allison rose out of cover, allowing herself to be fully visible, and raised her crossbow once the man looked at her.

A single bolt stuck him in the shoulder, injecting a sedative that would put him to sleep.

She waved at the building, assuming there were cameras, and Blinked away to her real Target. She'd left a little note stuck to the roof she had been on with a regular bolt.

Heya, Ast. Thought I might say hi, *wink*
~The Heretic~

Maria Slant. Your assassination career was coming to a short, short end.

With that thought and a grin beneath her mask, Allison set off for Destroy Stadium.

[A Lowly Wretch]

Omnivore

Meanwhile in a dilapidated office inside an abandoned warehouse on the docks...

No longer shrouded by a tarp Anny stood hunched over the dead body of a middle aged man with premature balding and an expensive looking suit. She was in her usual getup, a white metallica t-shirt and faded khaki cargo pants with her hair wild and about like a sort of proud silver mane. She found it hard to style her hair without sacrificing practicality since the hair needed to be free to splay out for extra shock-itude.

With one hand she reached down, digging her claws into the dead man's stomach like she was reaching for some potato chips and pulling out a small minced heap of human tripe. With her other hand she was busy looking at her claws, casually examining them for spots and scratch marks that needed buffing. She wanted her blades to look nice and shiney for her next kill. While she was sort of waiting on her agent to call she couldn't say she'd of been crestfallen if he failed to. She had been setting up her next hit for a couple weeks now, hunting down those who were involved with |Project Neuropath| so she can figure out when they're going to be shipping out the prototypes.

_
She took a hearty bite out of her handful of human flesh, her teeth cutting the meat into swallowable chunks. The answering machine blinked a little red light, sitting right next to an old cherry red rotary phone upon the office desk. Taking her clean claws she reached over and gently pressed a dial with the pointed tip of her index claw.

<"Hai-hai! You've reached Anny's handy answering machine! She can't reach the phone right now so please leave a message after the beep! Beep~!"> The cheery prerecorded message finally beeped for real, the message left following after.

A fake ghost, a Victorian brawler, and a drug addict. A less united force I could not conceive of myself. Heh.

You’ve been wired the money necessary for your next fight, so you’re aware. After this, you’ll have to pay your own way into each battle.

Savile Fist, you’re rank 199. The lowest in the experiment, for reference. Speaking of experiments, look for The Scientist in the cryo lab of Destroy University. You may encounter Chroma at the university too; if you do, ignore him.

Omnivore, you’re at rank 130. You’ll find Rainbow Stakes in the Bow and Arrow Theatre.

Whiteout, you’re rank 146. Maxi Million is in one of the skyscrapers in the Destroy Central Plaza; you’ll get more info on which one precisely when you get there.

Trust your Force, and head for the Garden of Madness.

Anny dabbed down her bloodied claws with a moist towelette clutched in her tongue's metal claw grip, the closest thing she had to saliva. It was good that her exterior metals were all stainless composites, it made washing up that few steps less laborious and removed the threat of growing rusty, something she had no intention of becoming in both the literal and metaphorical sense.

She huffed as the message ran to finish. "Fake ghost? Hah. I'm the closest thing to a ghost any o' these normies are ever gonna see. I'll bet Rainbow Stakes will wish she saw a ghost soon... As if she'd even see me coming."

Leaving what remained of the man she was devouring on the floor Anny stood up from her hunched position into a still hunched but less so position and went over to the window. The sun had yet to set so she'd go do some homework on her opponent first largely to kill time. Daintily lifting the window she stepped out, gripping the wall below the window sill with her talons. The yellowing day lit sky cast it's glow over the bay and the docks before it. Reaching up she pulled herself onto the roof of the warehouse, shutting the window with her feet before gripping the edge of the roof and kicking off into a leap. Diving down she landed nimbly upon the shipping container below, only mildly scratching it with her talons. She set off, leaping from container to container until she reached the streets where she took to the tops of buildings instead. It was off to the public library, after closing time of course.

[Regitnui]

<<WARNING: LONG POST>>

The penthouse was classic understated luxury. While everything here had to cost more than most people could earn in a year, the decor looked like a beach house in the Bahamas. An entire glass wall opened up onto an infinity pool that apparently dropped off one edge of the building, with a submerged bar leading neatly into the minimalist kitchen. The rest of the apartment was open-plan living area, with arched doorways leading into the bedrooms. “So, what do you think? I felt like a beach theme this month, so I had it redone.” Asterisk walked in from one of the rooms, already barely dressed in a maroon bikini with elaborate strings holding it up. “Abbi, let’s get you dressed properly. Boys get that room.” She pointed to the other door for Kimber.

“I-I mean okay?” Abigail said as she timidly waited for Asterisk. Abigail didn’t actually know where to go just yet, so she was left admiring the beachy vibes of the penthouse. Jesus Christ, it was definitely something she wasn't used to. The Necro Lab had more of a sanitary and clean vibe to it, but this was a good kind of different. Though, what did Asterisk mean by ‘properly’? That was the more terrifying thought she had running through her head right now.

“This way,” Asterisk ushered the other girl into the room she’d come from. The decor matched the room outside, but more intimate, cozy even. The one thing that didn’t match was the double-door walk-in cupboard. “You can’t swim in that,” Asterisk waved dismissively. She hauled open the doors to reveal what looked like a department store’s worth of clothes. “Bikinis, bikinis,” She mused, taking Abbi’s hand and bringing her along. “What’s your sizes?”

“U-um… A…” Abbi was certainly more freaked out than she had already been. The room itself had to have cost at least a couple grand, and that was excluding the entire 3/4ths of the clothes in it. The girl had a face as red as a ripened tomato as she was pulled behind Asterisk “I-I’m scared… is that bad…?”

Asterisk sighed. “Honestly, girl. Have you never gone shopping for a swimsuit?” She waved a hand at the selection. “This is the same, except they’re all different and they’re all free.” Asterisk folded her arms. “So are we going to try some on, or are you going to look like you’ve been hit with cherry pie?”

“I-I have! I just never went for… THIS kind of stuff!” The girl browsed the selection carefully and timidly as she kept looking at Asterisk out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t normally buy anything like this, anyway… I don’t think I could pull it off as opposed to someone like you.”

With hands on hips, Asterisk replied, “Girl, you are sexy, I did read your files after all. It might have been rude, I know, but I like to know who I’m working with.” She waved her hands and shook her head, “Anyway! You’re not dressing for me or you, or even Mr Purple outside. You’re dressing for him.”

“He would rather me look professional as opposed to this,” Abbi sighed as she looked up and down the racks, her eyes somewhat narrowing on a series of purple suits. “... but… purple was his favorite color…”

“I’ve never met a heterosexual man who didn’t enjoy seeing his girl in a bikini.” Asterisk noted. “Even the jealous types like it when it’s their private show. But I’m not going to convince you like this. Wait here, choose one you like.” Asterisk went to a different part of the closet and pulled a white t-shirt off the shelf. “This’ll do. If you’re not confident, we can work our way up.”

“... That is a lot more favorable…” Abbi said as she gently took the shirt away from Asterisk. “... c-can I get some privacy? I assume you’ve seen other girls before, but I’d like to be… alone while I change.”

Asterisk turned around. “Unless you’re like that tentacle Nazi, I’m sure I’ve seen anything you’ve got.” Fiddling with one of the partitions, she pulled and folded out a changing room. “You won’t believe how helpful one of these can be. I’ll pass you anything you want.”

“Okay…” Abbi walked into the room and she began to change. A few seconds of silence began to pass before Abbi realized something she probably should’ve asked about a few seconds ago. “W-what did my file say…?”

“The whole thing, or just the important bit?” Asterisk waited for a response, but when none materialised, she added, “It’s got enough on you that I feel like we’re friends already. But I do get to know people faster than most. I’ve never been through what you have, and I hope I never will. I might be able to do a lot of things, but bring back the dead? I’ll rebuild a soldier who’s both his legs, give a grandma the ability to run with her children again, but that I can’t do. I’m sorry that it happened.”

“He taught me everything I know about this business…” Abbi responded after a few silent seconds, coming out of the room. The bikini fit well enough, and the shirt was a comfortable and loose fit, but her face said more than that. “I’ve been keeping my weight until this rank with my goal of one day bringing him back. Hell, maybe one day I’d even take revenge on his killers, but… one thing at a time,” Abbi paused as she looked at Asterisk. “... can this stay secret…? It’s not public knowledge, nor is it on most of my files… I’ve tried to keep it hidden in case anything ever gets out to the public about the experiments going on in my lab.”

Asterisk hugged her. “I won’t say a word, Abbi. Can I call you Abbi? Anyway, you can trust me. I’m also a sucker for a happy ending, so if you need some extra money or something odd, I’ll help. We’re a team, after all.” She took Abbi’s hand then pointed in the exact direction of the pool. “One thing at a time means now we enjoy a swim under the stars!” She led her new friend out back into the main area of the apartment. “Purple! Mr Purple!” she called, “We’re ready! Come tell us how good we look!”

Meanwhile, Kimber sat out in the back staring into the pool. He had gotten himself in a lot of situations before, but he wondered what he was doing exactly here. Yeah he knew why, the UAA had been encroaching on the Exorcism Societies kills for a while. Leave it to him to make a business deal that could end up getting him killed earlier than his mother would have liked. What else choice did they fucking have though?

Taking out a cigarette and lighting it he let those two get ready. He had his own. In a suitcase in the boot of his car. To be honest, how did he get these trunks again? Oh right, blonde, M sounding name. Dumped him on the side of the road when she found he was cheating. With what was it four other girls.

He sighed. It wasn’t like him to be so bummed about a certain situation, but he had a lineage to hold onto. He need not die at the same age as his father, but unlike his father he wouldn’t amount to much success. Fuck this was depressing.

Exhaling and then inhaling, he watched as clouds from his cigarette rolled up to the sky. He childishly used some magic to form them into nonsensical figures before they faded. He was awakened from his stupor when someone addressed him as Mr. Purple. Oh right, her.

“First off Mr. Purple makes me sound like a pimp,” Kimber says, “It’s Kimber, never Kim or Kimmy, or Silver Prowler. Not Mr. Purple. Don’t want to give people the wrong impression.” Looking them over, the Maiden of the Bones was wearing a t-shirt. While Asterisks wore something more suitable, well showy at least.

“Well one of yous looks like an insecure high schooler,” Kimber remarked, “And the other there is no change, just less clothing.”

“You didn’t notice I changed my hair? Typical man,” Asterisk sniffed in derision.

“I-I mean you don’t look super great yourself, pal. I just… didn’t say anything,” Abbi wanted to shoot herself. God, that stutter ruined it.

“I did say no change, just less clothes,” Kimber winked at Asterisk. He took a second to study Maiden of Bones, Abigail. That stutter ruined it and Kimber gave her a charming smile, “Oh yeah, huh. Well I’m just teasing you. My rule of thumb is usually to be confident in yourself no matter what someone says. I have to live with me everyday, no one else does. It’s better to feel confident about it now, than be sad about it with myself. God do you know how much fucking depression that be if I had to live with myself and hate myself.”

“I don’t hate myself… I just don’t really like showing skin, that’s all.” Abbi sat down at the edge of the pool and dipped her legs in the water. “It’s one of the reasons I wear armor as opposed to a more flexible suit.”

Asterisk stretched, showing off her curves, then dived into the pool like an Olympian. When she came up, she added, “I once had a challenger forfeit because my top fell open by accident. That was a good day.” She swam over to Kimber’s side of the pool. “And before you make some wisecrack to cover your insecurity, I hadn't known about his glaring weakness to breasts beforehand. I would have just deployed the women on my security team.”

Kimber eyed Abigail.

“You have a great complexion though, if you didn’t chose muted blue and puke green for your outfit it could bring it out more,” Kimber tells her with a shrug, while he watches Asterisk show off with her diving technique. He took inhale of his cigarette and then exhaled one more time while Asterisk spoke to him.

He takes a second. Should he address her he wonders?

“Having a weakness to breasts isn’t an insecurity,” Kimber tells her, “It’s uh, how did you word it, being a typical man.” he gives her a cheeky smirk and laughs.

“I've met a few men who didn't have that reaction.” Asterisk pushed off the side and gently floated away. “He went bright red, stammered something about my honour or something, then tried to walk out when I refused to immediately change. I mean seriously. He was an assassin, he should be used to awkward situations. I wish I was making this up.”

“That… that seems like something you should just ignore, mid-fight,” Abbi said as she sat there on the side of the pool. “I might not be with anything up here, but you should fight through it. Not complain that your opponent has their pride out.”

Asterisk giggled. “I like that. They're my pride.” She squeezed her chest, putting on a mocking military tone. “Careful, boys, they're deadly weapons when uncovered.” She continued in her usual voice, “Abbi, you're fine. Well-apportioned.”

“I’m glad I’m small. It’s less weight on me,” Abbi simply shrugged as she laid back on the ground behind her. “Anyway… do you guys have any special protection in your places? I have that giant snake up in the 8000s of ranks.”

“I got the entire building security system made smart enough to act like an immune system. Does that count?” Asterisk put her hands behind her head, as if on an inflatable.

Abbi shrugged as she raised her hand, a wispy green cloud of dreams appearing over her. “I guess that counts. Does it act like a body’s immune system?”

“Like with T-cells, b-cells and macrophages?” Asterisk asked, gently bumping into the open edge of the pool. “I suppose. Security passes keep the t-cells off. Then it deploys hot lead antibodies. Does me programming faces into the system count as vaccinations?”

“I’d say so,” Abbi speaks as she fires the dreambolt into the sky. “What about you Kimber? Got any good mooks?”

Kimber looks between the both of them, “Fancy setups? No not really. I have an ancient order of witches.” he pauses for a second, “As for mooks. Well I did take down a target once by charming her to death. There’s a rumor people will tell you about the Silver Prowler that I managed a target to take her pants off and have sex with me. That rumor is true. Well the part where she got really hot and bothered and got really naked. She had no armor on and I took advantage and shot her. Wish I had taken the opportunity for the sex though. Biggest regret in my life, what was her name again, or right White Cat. Her tits were fake though. Same size as Asterisks.” He gave a dreamy look as he wandered off. He flicks his ash onto the cement before adding, “Had this guy one time called The Iron Tower. Dude was fucking huge. People will tell you these crazy legends sometimes, like you know that someone is a giant and they end up not being so big. But The Iron Tower, no kidding dude was 7ft tall, barely fit into a door frame. Honestly not sure how I got out of that one all right.”

Asterisk stood up, glaring at him from the deep end of the pool. “Hey, mine are real. Not my fault I'm gifted that way.” She looked at both of them. “Hey, do I have to open the bar to get you both in this pool? I swim by myself all the time.”

“Oh I was suppose to swim, that’s what the pool was for,” Kimber retorts with a laugh, “Bar sounds nice though.”

Abbi shrugged as she rolled around on where she was, eventually off into the pool and causing a somewhat-small splash to rise up. After she had resurfaced, she swam over to the ladder of the pool and simply sat against them, fidgeting around with the shirt she was wearing. “It’s friggin’ cold, man.”

After throwing the shirt she was wearing onto the side of the pool, the Maiden looked over to Kimber and had to ask a question. “Witches? Any of them know necromancy, by chance?”

In the meantime, Asterisk swum over to the pool side of the bar and swung her legs over it, sliding over to a holographic screen. “And the wizard said, ‘bippity boppity boo’.” The floor opened, and a vaguely Hawaiian man of reasonable fitness and clad in a floral pair of swim trunks rose out of the bar. “Aloha, my pretty prototype.”

“What can I get for you today, ma’am?” He asked, in a slightly stilted voice.

“A Knockdown Drag Home,” Asterisk replied, and the man went to work, providing a orange drink in a small glass. “And another when I'm done.” she turned to Abbi then leaned back and added, “A Popper Stopper for the lady. Give the man a Purple Pocket Rocket.”

He’d prefer something that sounded less madeup, Necromancy? He supposed the people in the undercroft of the Grand Church would. Any Necromancy would fall under Dark or Void in his coven. And there were few and far inbetween true Necromancers. They were Pagans. Nature rituals and moonlight gatherings were more their thing.

“I suppose we may have a few in the undercroft tending to the ancient bodies of the coven,” Kimber tells Abigail before she swims off.

Not sure what his mother would say if he brought a dangerous assassin to the Grand Church to go tour the dead in the catacombs underneath.

“I… I might want to talk to them in the future.” Abbi halted when she simply heard Asterisk order drinks for everyone. “What the fresh hell is a Popper Stopper?”

“Purple Pocket Rocket sounds like a disease best left in the 18th century,” Kimber adds quickly, “The Exorcism Society can both be a very relaxed place, but also my mother is prone to throwing guns in dangerous stranger’s faces. No hard feelings. We just have to be safe. Our clans are stable. No declines in our birth rate or death rate.” Does help magic tends to let you live and be younger for longer.

Asterisk grinned. “A Popper Stopper warms you up, so it ‘stops the pop-ups’. A Purple Pocket Rocket is a drink for men, hence the name.” She handed them both their drinks, then grabbed hers again. “Kanpai!” she shouted, then tilted her head back and downed it.

“Yeah well I am a James Bond kind of guy, I like a drink I can pronounce and the ingredients in it,” Kimber responds to her.

“Purple. Pocket. Rocket.” Asterisk enunciates. “It has apples in.”

“He likes it shaken, not schtirred,” Abbi joked around. She held her drink in her hand and simply sat there for a few seconds with it before thinking out loud. “I do drink weed killer…” With that said, the Maiden tilted her own head back and chugged as much of it as she could, reaching halfway before stopping the chug-fest and coughing. “That-hack is no-ackhack-t a drink you should ch-ack-hug.”

“Really?” Asterisk swum over to her and tasted the drink. “Hm… that’s made wrong.”

“Yeah and I like vodka,” Kimber replies setting the drink down, “I have never heard of a Purple Pocket Rocket and I am not really into drinking someone’s homemade cocktails unless I know them enough.” A drink for men. What did she think she was trying to pull over him?

“... no balls.” Abbi smirked at the comment while she gripped the ladder she sat at tightly, still gasping for some sort of comfort from the chugging of that drink.

Kimber gave Abbi a cheeky smile, “Sure we can put it that way. I don’t get peer pressured sweets.” He winks at her.

“No, it's supposed to chemically castrate you for about two hours,” Asterisk remarked, fetching a new, less sharp, Popper Stopper for Abbi. “Either that or make you capable of letting your guard down and relaxing. I'm never quite sure, though the former is probably more likely for you.”

Taking the drink, Abbi sipped it as she watched her two new colleagues bicker back and forth about drinks. “I mean… it doesn’t seem like it’d murder you in your sleep. Though, I might be wrong there.”

Asterisk laughed. “No, that's the California Grim Reaper. Only special people get that, and they're guarded for the rest of the night.”

Kimber raises a brow, “I’m always relaxed. Only things that bring me red flags is someone who offers a high functioning alcoholic a beverage he doesn’t know to his hands. Seen enough stuff slipped into drinks to know two rules order what you know, drink what you know. Bring me white zinfandel, or a white russian, maybe if you’re feeling naughty a sex on the beach. Oh and if you want to make a pocket rocket sweetheart, it’s not with apples. Arugula, Vodka, Cynar, Elderflower liqueur, celery bitters, and lemon peel. And trust me darling it’s not purple.”

This was supposed to be a little exercise to know the team better. It was starting to turn out to be a little bit more like peer pressure and harassment. Getting up, the night was still early he could make it back to the Grand Church and sleep there until the team needed him again.

“Well,” Kimber told them cracking his knuckles individually, “It’s been fun, I have somethings to do back at home though.”

Asterisk’s eyes glazed over for a moment, then she responded. “It doesn't say anything about alcoholism on your file. You can ask the barman for a more normal drink if you want. I just figured I'd give you something that'd make you a little flustered and break that cool, in-control image you've been projecting all night. It's fun to have fun in a safe place.” She waved her arm at the penthouse. “Safer than houses here.”

Kimber took out a second cigarette. Abigail was fine, a little bit of a follower, as she immediately started taking Asterisks lead. So a little insecure, obvious by the t-shirt and someone who obviously wasn’t going to fight for the position of leader. Kimber didn’t care too much about that kind of power either. But Asterisks had a lot of things wrong. She provoked people and forced herself onto them. Abigail had given in and they seem to be getting along well enough. Asterisks observations were half baked based on someone’s reaction after she provoked them in some kind of manner. Whether she recognized she was trying to puppet people was still up in the air, that didn’t mean Kimber wanted to be her puppet in the first place. He had a lineage to carry, not entertain someone’s whims.

“Sherlock called Watson and he wants his coat back,” Kimber laughs an winks before jumping off the wall. Mid-flipped his clothes changed, ah the useless spells were the best spells for convenience, landed on the wall and ran down the side before slowly himself last minute to land on the ground with elegance. He didn’t care if they watched, he flipped off the penthouse before looking to find his car.

“Show-off,” Asterisk dismissed him.

[Lady Selune]

"Gesund."

"Vorbehalt." Heidi sighed and placed her cards down on the table.

"Scheiße, really? Again?"

"Cards don't like me." Heidi shrugged a little, kicking her feet back. A small stack of dollars were on the table, the two sitting next to each other. Donner, who was across from Blitzen, rolled her eyes.

"Vorbehalt as well for me." Donner tapped her cards together, shrugging her shoulders. Even sitting down, she towered above the rest of the group, but none of them were being particularly stiff in their seating.

"I don't understand this game. What do Gesund and Vorbehalt mean again?"

"Ficks sake, really?" Donner snapped at the idiot, one of her tentacles reaching out towards him threateningly. "It's not that... Argh, you know what? Fuck it, I'm going and killing some things. It's been too long." Standing up, leaving the cash on the table, she shot a remark towards the man. "If vhe play Dopplekopf again and zhou are zhis ficking stupid, I vhill force zhou to choke on meine tentacle." A growl, and she stormed away. Maiden of Bones... Maiden of Bones... She seemed like an interesting target. She would go after her.

But first, time to get dressed. She stripped down to nothing, toes curling against the cold floor, and began. No bra. Panties, and then thermal underwear. A clean, white blouse, and a pair of black trousers with suspenders, the woman brushing a little dirt off of the end of the leg. Over that came the feldgrau. Finally, she neatly combed her hair, then put her eyepatch on, and finished it off with her peaked cap. The totenkopf emblazoned on it gleamed a little bit, and she smirked, before examining her loadout. Old or new... Old, or new? Decisions, decisions. New. An assassin that had been chosen for the program would require some serious firepower.

First of all came the sidearms. She loaded a fresh magazine into her P12, and placed it inside the jacket. Attached to her back would be the MP7. Heckler and Koch G95 in hand, the rack of the slide familiar and satisfying. Two DM51's, and last, but by no means least, two M84 stun grenades. She wanted to be well armed. Die Ficklasen was ready to go. Placing a little bit in her ear, she tapped it twice

"Donner? Donner, meine schister?"

"Jawohl, Blitzen?"

"Prepare zhe backup fur me plheaze. I intend to be khoming home richer."

"Jawohl Blitzen." She could practically hear the eyeroll over the comms. Shaking her head, she hefted the laser cannon and walked out of the warehouse, her car pulling up neatly. No doubt the other assassin would be aware of her approach.

["Oh. Here we go, killing again?"]

"Jawohl, meine cute lhittle bhroken in demon. Jawohl."

["Marvellous."] At least the demon agreed with her.

Time to rock.

[A Lowly Wretch]

Omnivore

Meanwhile on the roof of the Bow and Arrow Theater...

On the roof of the building two men stood. The only light that shone came from the bulb just above the roof access door. It was otherwise mired in the darkness of night, far removed from the street lamps and the light of the theater itself. Both these men were dressed for a fine evening out, black suits and different colored bow ties for each. They bore masks like the sort people would find in a masquerade, ornate and concealing little more than the space around their eyes. In their hands they casually clutched m16's, their eyes searching out upon the edges of the roof top.

"Man, it sucks being stuck up on roof duty. There's jack shit to look at and it's dark as hell." The slightly taller man with the dull chestnut hair grunted in acknowledgement.

"Yeah. Didn't think coming into the assassination gig that this was how I'd be spending my nights."

"I get 'ya. Say, what rank are you at anyhow?" The shorter man with short spiked up platinum blonde hair asked the taller one.

"Six hundred and fifty two. Name's Dredger Douglas by the way." The shorter man nodded with interest.

"I'm six hundred and sixty six myself. Kill Grave's the name. Nice to meet you Doug." The shorter fellow who identified himself as Kill Grave stuck out a hand to shake with. The tall man gave him an odd look due to the name but reached over and shook his hand nonetheless.

"Nice to meet you too." The tall guy known as Dredger Douglas looked out across the thin hint of moonlight gracing their open and wide ward.

"Think this assassin that's supposed to be fighting the boss is even gonna come up to the roof?" Kill Grave let his gun hang loosely in his grip to the side as he went over to lean against the wall by the access door.

"Nah. Don't envy the guys down below if they do. The folks in the one hundred range and down get pretty downright weird. You heard about the guy hiring us right? Bloody psycho-kinesis or some bullshit."

"Yeah. It really leaves you wondering how on earth you're ever gonna get past the two hundred mark without something pretty major."

The air stood still for a couple moments. There was a thought nagging at Dredger's mind that he heard something as he just spoke. That thought manifested into a note of alarm as he turned only to see no one standing in the area where he last saw Kill Grave.

"Kill Grave?" The man's note was audably nervous, his gun now clutched tight in his grasp with his finger on the trigger as he slowly crept forward into the radius of the door light's glow where Kill Grave last stood. At the edge of his hearing he could faintly make out the sounds of wet splatters and a gun clattering to the floor. Before he could make his way around the extruding compartment that housed the stairs down a head fell into view, most likely lobbed to him as an underhanded toss from what he could deduce as it hit the ground and rolled past his feet. He could hear his heart beating within his own ears. Time seemed to run slow.

Taking his eyes from the man he was just previously sharing a conversation he was only able to momentarily glimpse a faint gleam of metal before a sudden flash pierced his eyes, both in the figurative and literal sense as the plasma blade ran directly through his skull, killing him instantly.

_
Not long into her mission and Anny was already drenched in her first victim's blood. Having removed his head with her teeth she was splattered quite thoroughly in his life fluid. She was hunched over her first kill of the night's body, scooping a heap of his lower organs into her sizable metal maw.

Man is Rainbow Stakes ever a stupid name for a guy. I guess they'll be calling him Rainbow Steaks very soon since I'll cut him into country fried steak strips when I'm through with him. Even as she fed on the flesh of fallen assassin's of lesser rank she cared about them so little that they registered as little more than idle food for her.

Finished with her gory snack break she went over to the nearby ventilation system. She quietly pried the grate off from the opening with ease, her claws making short work of the screws that held it fast to the thin sheet metal. She climbed inside the entrance she created, slipping silently into the network of small tunnels that provided heating/air conditioning for the entire theater. Ordinarily it would be a bad idea for most to try and sneak in through there as the tunnels aren't meant to bear passangers. Most tunnels were only being large enough for a child to pass through, let alone traverse. Anne was no ordinary person however. Her small waifish form was narrow enough to let her pass into the tunnel works while both her claws and her tongues allowed for improved grip and vertical movement options not ordinarily available to most.

Most important of all was her enhanced audio and visual capabilities which allowed her see and listen to anyone outside the vents within her vicinity. Between this and peaking through the several grated openings in the vent shafts she was able to eventually located her first destination, the basement level entrance. Down below a lot of buildings were the guts of the facility. Things like heating, water and air conditioning required big machinery to handle, things like furnaces and other large unseemly installments which are best kept separate from the public. She had done her homework a few hours back and learned that this building, like many, did have a backup generator for those times when the power supply to the area goes down and they don't want everything to just go pitch black right off the bat. She planned to knock that out first. If she was going to deprive this building of power then making sure it didn't switch back on for a time was necessary.

_
In an opening where nobody was walking the hall her vent led out into she quietly slipped out and approached the door barring her way to the downstairs level. It was locked but only by a mundane key based lock. It was a simple enough barrier for her to overcome, even when the job required the silent treatment. She extended a tongue against the lock, the metal claw shifting and working itself into shape enough proper to pick the door's lock. After about a minute of working the lock with her tongue claws there came that satisfying click, a familiar note that indicated her efforts were fruitful.

The door opened to a dimly lit brick stairwell, tiled stairs led down. Shutting the door behind her she proceeded to stab her middle finger into every light along the path as she proceeded down, plunging the path behind her in total darkness. She eventually arrived at her destination, the bowels of the theater itself. There the backup generator sat, unguarded for reasons likely owing to Rainbow's oversight during the arena planning phase. Carefully she confirmed the lack of cameras watching before getting to work.

She drove her claws into a side panel, pulling the battery right out of the side of the generator. Looking at her little prize like it was a tasty ham sandwich she fit the large battery into her mouth and bit down, her metal teeth cutting through it's metal casing like it was butter. Gooey battery acid poured from the open gash that was once the other half of the battery into her maw, Omnivore heartily swallowing the charged solution along with the pieces of the battery's casing. Tossing the remaining half of the battery into her mouth she swallowed hard, the powerful crusher inside her nanomechanical throat smooshing the sharp uneven metal into swallowable shapes with complete ease.

After her lovely dessert she slashed up the remains of the generator just to be thorough before turning and leaving back up the pitch black hall. It was quite easy for Anny to exfiltrate herself from the theater, coming back out the way she came in. Back up on the roof where the remains of one of her meals laid she set her eyes on the power lines feeding electricity to the building. Once that was cut everything would go black inside. Complete darkness, a fine curtain call to life. Eyes fixed on the lines she primed one of her tongues to cut the wires with a beam of plasma, standing atop the roof right over the room to the main stage where she presumed he would make his arena. Everything was ready to fall... Like dominoes.

Or like other things that fall, like apples from trees or deadly cyborgs from the ceiling. Dominoes are overrated.

[Old Amsterdam]

---

Allison Blinked from rooftop to rooftop, traveling across the city towards the Stadium. The closer she got the more she had to stop to slay a duo or trio of mooks, always looking every direction but up.

She frowned. These must be the lowest of the grunts. Was she warning her Target of her arrival by slaughtering these bumbling morons?

Mhmm. Perhaps. Would it make a difference? She doubted it, honestly.

As she approached the Stadium proper, however, she adopted a more stealthy approach, watching and gauging the best locations to Blink to and when. As much of an element of surprise as possible would work best, even if that included killing every single grunt along the way.

But, she would only do that if she had to. She was fairly certain she could weasel past the low ranking, hired on help.

Pray all you want, for the Heretic cares not what god you call. Kneel before the might of the Void!

---

Allison flitted forward, Blinking between signs and the tops of poles as she crossed the lot and dropped into the corresponding corridors.

Could she have simply gone over and in? Probably, but where was the fun in that? She had a name to live up to.

A spray of blood coated the wall besides her as she entered into a shadow state, slipping into the recesses as more goons gathered from the scream her first victim had uttered upon his death. But only because she wanted him to.

They wondered where she was, having came from all angles... Well, both angles, considering this really was just a big ass hallway. They didn't touch the body still bleeding on the floor.

Allison twirled her sword, it's blade coming into place as her form solidified and she stepped into the group.

There was a sound as her purple beam stuck out to full length, and then she danced.

Weaving, twirling, gracefully she moved through the dozen useless bastards in moments before she looked up at the camera she was now standing in center view of. She held her gaze for just a moment before she Blinked out of sight. The bodies however, missing heads and limbs, remained.

From there, she moved through the hallways silently, quietly eviscerating everyone who happened to be in her way.

She stopped, looking at the large door leading into the Stadium. Her arm rose and a glowing, white tipped bolt shot from the crossbow in her hand. It connected with the steel and immediately there was a large explosion.

As the smoke cleared, the doors having blasted several dozen meters into the opening beyond... There was no one.

The Heretic, however, was already inside.

[Regitnui]

The gentle hum, as always, was Asterisk's companion as it slept. Well, it had never understood what sleep actually was. Were the terminal to be turned off, it would disappear, frozen in time. Running without purpose was tiring, but that's what humans seemed to do when they slept. So Asterisk had cobbled together a sort of apparent sleep; any running bodies were set on an automatic subroutine that maintained breathing and temperature while Asterisk itself went to do something else. Dreaming was out of the question, as was true unconsciousness, so Asterisk kept busy. Memories were backed up, some outright deleted, and the whole thing went off to long-term storage. Through the next day or so, the long-term storage would back up to the apocalypse bunker.

By the time roughly 14 hours, 57 minutes and 22 seconds of sensation had been through the initial stages of the memory process, Asterisk went to play with its pet. The AI that controlled the building was subsentient, but over the months it had been customised to have basic emotional responses, a small vocabulary, and high sensitivity to attitudes and body language. In short, Asterisk mused, it had the mind of a loyal guard dog. A thrum of amusement went through the circuits as Asterisk pictured the whole office building rolling around and begging for a truck to be thrown for it.

Not that the games Asterisk played with it were that different. Less property destruction was involved, but the nature of the game was very similar to fetch. First, Asterisk triggered one of the more basic bodies, little more than mannequin, on one of the upper floors. The Building then responded by tagging it with a laser. Another body was activated, and eventually Asterisk would pick up two or more, seeing how long it took the building to find and identify them all. Some were marked as friendlies, the equivalent of employees or security staff. Honing the Building's killing instinct was no use if it didn't know when not to kill.

So when the Building tagged two bodies in the lobby, it took Asterisk a moment to notice. It was only when the others were spotted and dealt with that the Building began to "lick" Asterisk's "Hand", expecting praise for finding those bodies too. By the time Asterisk had realised, focused its attention, and then deployed a body nearby, one of them had disappeared. The other was... the details spun out of the Employee Register, a part of memory that didn't get archived, so was always on call. The rest of the lobby was quickly searched, Asterisk setting the Building to do it while the body checked on and spoke to [font=Courier New]Houston Pavel Dukan[/font]. Basic subroutines satisfied [font=Courier New]Houston[/font]'s needs and instincts. It was amazing how little processing power humans needed for a conversation.

The note was dealt with after poor [font=Courier New]Houston[/font] had gone home in a taxi. Let him sleep off that injury with his family. (([font=Courier New]Wife, one child, one infant. Scholarship potential for child.[/font])) Asterisk shut down the Employee Register before more useless trivia was called up. The body unfolded the note and held it up for inspection.

Heya, Ast. Thought I might say hi, *wink*
~The Heretic~

Asterisk had the body crumple up the note. So, it was going to be like that, was it? The Building locked all of its doors and entrances, and was halfway through powering up all the arena-level measures before Asterisk told it to stop. It was confused, but some soothing treatment got it to rest again. Instead, Asterisk set its mind on hacking The Heretic's official files. It might be petty, but it's impolite not to respond to a letter, after all. After setting up a suitable surprise for the Heretic to find, Asterisk decided to run a classic movie file. Watching it without eyes wasn't the same, but it was an utterly unique experience.