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    1. Cryfest 7 yrs ago

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"It all started on a dreary day in December. The snow was fresh and I was young, pure even. But then, while playing in the snow- I stubbed my toe on a hidden log. Since then I have not stopped crying."

- An excerpt from The Origin Story of Cryfest the Cynical Jerk

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Theo had been spending most of the drive with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. The hit of bitter set him at ease. He frowned as Drake relayed the information of what was happening outside. He leaned back in his seat, glancing around as Drake got out to set up for his plan. It was a smart move- staying on the defensive. He hopped there wouldn’t be a fight with the drifters; though it seemed unlikely. Drake was smart not to use any of the tanks ammo unless necessary. It looked like a lot but it wouldn’t last long. He glanced over at the back of the driver's chair and then his attention was brought to Rusty as she moved around to the back of the torrent and called for him.

“Yeah.” He turned around in his chair making a soft ‘squeak’. He quietly bent down to slide the blast door open to reveal the ammunition tucked inside. “Is there anything specific you wanted out front?” He asked, delicately moving the ammunition around to show her. “Mostly it’s 120mm shells, but we have armor piercing rounds and some HEAT rounds,” he glanced up at her as he talked.
@DeadDrop i'll go ahead and change it :)

Let me know if anything more is needed :)


Interested :)
@DeadDrop post is up. I made up some random equipment so let me know if any of it conflicts with anything, kind of just took a wild swing XD

Timecode: 11 : 19 : 19 - 13 : 04 | S O U T H P R E C I N C T | Location: Wes Tower

“Another hacker just up and kills himself. I don’t buy it for one second" Ayvee Jennings leaned uncomfortably close to a maggot-ridden body. The putrefaction odor in the room had already caused a few of the DPD to step out to vomit, yet it didn’t seem to bother Detective Jennings. Her dark hair was brushed out of the way and the undeniably curious furrowing of her brows was revealed. She gazed at the discolored flesh - bulging just under the surface - the twitching of maggots decomposing the body. The odor had been why the DPD had been called in the first place. It wasn’t uncommon. The south precinct wasn’t exactly known for its classy population.

“Detective Jennings, do you think maybe he committed suicide due to... all this?” Her sergeant coughed as he gestured to the mess of computer wiring, static screens, and illegal cyber-ware. She was careful to note the empty syringe on the floor, dripping with Neon. “Harvard, look at this guy. Clearly he’s been running some kind of illegal network and by the looks of things- it's all been erased or torn apart. Tell me, why would a guy like him up and pop a cap in his skull?” She tore her grey eyes away from the body and tilted a neutral expression to the director.

“Judging by the recent string of deaths it’s because he owes money to someone and that someone wanted him dead when he couldn’t get it,” Harvard answered, running a metal hand through his hair. “Exactly, and that is why we are here. To figure out who killed him- whether they pulled the trigger or not.” Ayvee looked back at the body; it would take some time before the medical examiner’s report would be complete and it would depend on if the captain would truly take the case. With the wild amount of crime, these cases tended to be tossed to the side as pointless.

“Gram Silver” a short police officer who had been working off to the side disclosed, gazing down at his holo-pad; “fingerprints show that he’s been convicted of drug paraphernalia and of manufacture with the intent of delivery. He managed to be let off with a year of probation and proof of treatment... pretty lenient” the officer looked up, doubt pushing his lips together into a thin line. “Sounds like the guy had connections,” Harvard agreed. “Whoever is manipulating these suicides is very good at getting what they want. Can we get cybernetics to look into the hardware? See if any data can be recovered?” Ayvee stood up, straightening the jacket she wore over a tight crop-top and shorts. She turned on her heal. Her walk was one of confidence and the straightness of her shoulders spoke of military discipline.

“Make sure the CSI unit has everything documented before calling the bots to clean this mess up,” Harvard told the police officer who immediately got on his holo-pad to take care of it. Ayvee was about to take another slow walkthrough of the scummy apartment when a device on her wrist buzzed, alerting her that a text was sent to her phone. She reached up under her hair to a small earpiece cuffed to the outer ear.

A mechanical voice spoke, “new notification from an unknown number- would you like me to read the message, Ayvee?” the A.I. that ran all her smart products paused, waiting for an answer. “Yes.” She walked out of the room and into the dingy hallway for a bit more privacy as police worked on the crime scene. “ASAP; return DPD HQ” The A.I’s voice buzzed slightly with the pronunciation and Ayvee frowned- she was never called away from her team. Either they all got pulled or they continued with the case. She turned and looked into the apartment to see if any of the others had been called out but by the look of their busy work they had not. She decided to just pull her smartphone out and look at the message. The thin piece of holographic glass lit up a faint green in her hand.

| 13:24 | Message System | Unknown: (XXX) XXX-XXXX |

>ASAP: Return DPD HQ!



She tucked some hair behind her unburdened ear and slid the glass back in her pocket. She glanced back at the crime scene before heading out of the apartment complex. Harvard could handle it. It was likely they wouldn’t be assigned the case anyhow. Till answers were clear she headed back to the DPD.
@DeadDrop feel free to move ahead and I can put a quick paragraph or two about it in a proper response at a later date. I don't want to hold anything up ;)
Interested :)
@Mattchstick looks good! I like that you separated the two, requires more out of the characters.
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