[IC] CYBERPUNK 2020

[piercetyler1994]

Meadowcreek Pines Apartments, Rm. 312
Old Downtown
Night City, CA

Well... that's lovely

Tyler was unimpressed by the sight. It was a bag of "rectal essence" taped to the door to his room just above the door knob. The scent was repugnant to say the least. As he was reaching for the bag, he could have heard laughter from down the hall. He shot a glance to where the sound came from. He only caught a glimpse, but it was enough. He saw three faces youthful faces leering back at him before they shot back around the corner.

These punks have been annoying me for days. How much longer will this go on?

He removed the bag of crap from his door and entered his room. Without a care in the world, he walked up to his window and chucked the bag out of the window. The resulting splat and yell didn't leave much room for interpretation. "WHAT THE FUCK!?", the voice said. "THAT is the "fuck", my friend...", he said said, more to himself to the guy. After a day like today (a whole lot of nothing), he really couldn't care what happened next.

[The Silent Type]

Peterson Pkwy.
Old Downtown
Night City, CA

"This is the place?" Elizabeth asked her driver as they slowed to a stop in a less reputable part of Night City. [i[So this is Old Downtown... Well, one day it'll be as good as regular Downtown.[/i] Her thoughts bring a smile to her face as her driver responds.

"Yes, Ms. Mills. We traced the source to this building, the, uh... Meadowcreek Pines Apts, it looks like."

Doesn't look like much of a hacker's hide-out... Then again, anything could be a hacker's hide-out. Best to tell him to circle the block. Don't want him warning our target. "Alright, thank you, Hans. Take it once around the block and then wait here for me, this shouldn't take long." The driver looked quizzical but gave a nod none the less. Mills stepped out of the car and strode for the back of the car, high heels clicking with every step. The driver had already opened the trunk for her by the time she got there to remove her rifle and sling it over her shoulder. The weight was re-assuring, despite the fact that she had no idea how to use it. But it was just for show anyway. She was packing more heat just a car's length away. Giving the driver of a long, sleek black van a nod, Mills headed for the door of the apartment complex, making sure she wouldn't get run-over in the process. As the doors of the van slid open, ten men clad in Weyland Munitions brand combat armor and assault gear. Non-lethal at the behest of Ms. Mills. Quickly and quietly the squad makes its way up through the building to the third floor, following the directions of a small hand-held that should lead them to the source of the hacker that has been plaguing Weyland for days.

"One inside, Ma'am. Male, scanner's saying he's armed. We're good for breach on your orders." Came the gruff voice of the squad's sergeant, a veteran of a number of wars over seas before retiring to private security. It was reassuring to Mills, despite her distrust of everyone at the moment.

"Alright, when he's clear of the door, breach it."

[piercetyler1994]

Meadowcreek Pines Apartments, Rm. 312
Old Downtown
Night City, CA

Tyler headed for the bathroom, feeling that the grime just from the bag alone was enough to warrant him cleaning himself up. He stared back at his reflection in the mirror. Is this really the place to be? Is this what my life's become; a "Robin Hood" for hire, who helps the poor by dishing out "street justice"? All I seem to do is do nothing but make more and more enemies than what's good for my health. He washed his calloused hands with cold water and disinfecting alcohol. With a little bit of watered-down alcohol in his hands, Tyler took it to his face and smeared it for an impromptu facial cleanse. It wasn't some namby-pamby facial from Charter Hill, but... eh, screw it!

Well, now what? I've had no clients come knock on my door in four days. Either, I've done my job to well or the bad guys killed all the good guys... In any case, this place is not the place to be for much longer. With that thought being a major downer, he needed a pick-me-up. He headed for his espresso machine in his kitchen.