Avatar of DJAtomika

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Recent Statuses

9 yrs ago
Current To all I'm in RPs with: I apologise if my replies are sparse. Life isn't kind.
10 yrs ago
BLUH

Bio

My name is DJ.
I am a roleplayer.
A roleplayer of roughly a good decade now.
I write a lot of things, and am able to roleplay a lot of things.

Random Things about me
- I run a small YouTube channel.
- I listen to a helluva lot of music. Love music.
- I'm from Singapore. It's a little island in Southeast Asia.

Anywho, I've not been RPing for a long long time, but here I am, hopefully to make a few friends and RP some.

Most Recent Posts

"Eh, it's just a bit of vorcha, really. Sooner or later Blood Pack's gonna sweep 'em up and leave us be."

Hazan was lounging on one side of the sofa, datapad in hand- er, talon as he sifted through what data they'd gotten. The safehouse Daro had gotten was pretty adequate, considering she was a doctor and not a mercenary. With a bit more money, they could really turn this place into a comfortable haven, but as it stood they were here for secrecy, not to live. And this was an upgrade from the dump he'd been living in.

"I've got a guy in the Upper Slums who can launder those credits. Give him a bit of time and he'll return 'em clean as a whistle, in case whatever IT specialists Perix has can trace where those chits have been. Oh, minus a little bit off the top as a fee, of course."

The credit chits, he took and stuffed into his pocket. Inwardly he also wanted to know how much they'd snagged as a haul. A good finder's fee could set them up well for the rest of the operation, maybe even be able to hire some mercs off of it for backup. Hazan sat up as Daro projected the imagery off of the info dockets in the envelope and watched as she scrolled through them. What caught his eye was the guard routines for another section of Omega, on the complete opposite side of the station from them. And supplies? Apparently Perix had more than just couriers running payments and information across Omega. More leverage for them to use.

"You seeing what I'm seeing? Perix is hiding something on the other end of the station and he's got Tenus in charge of it. I wonder if we should do a little recon on that warehouse?"
Tbh I'm just here for some cyberpunk action and stuff, I don't really have anything to add to the discussion.

I have this thread subscribed, I'll come back again once everyone's settled on the way we're going to run this RP.
So just lemme know when you'd like mod interference, cuz you guys are killin it on your own. x3

*munches popcorn*


I mean, once it's necessary to move the plot along.


With a big mug of coffee by his side, David sat in a corner of the diner, idly tapping away at his Macbook as he processed a folder of photos he'd taken of the countryside surrounding the quaint little town. His camera laid next to his mug and underneath that sat a single missing persons poster. A plate stacked with pancakes and bacon sat nearly untouched on the other side of his laptop. The hubbub in the diner was rather quiet, given the time of day, and as he took a swig of his strong, black coffee, he took in the familiar small-town sights and sounds. It was comforting, very homely and warm. Felt like safety, even though he knew he was here for the complete opposite of that.

David had only just reached the town of Duskwick; he'd spent the better part of the day before driving to the town itself and he'd spent the rest of it resting in the town's only motel. Now he was here, having an early brunch while he sorted through his pictures. He'd risen a little earlier and had done a small walkabout around the park, taking photos of the early morning sun and the scenery, which was all very quaint. Except for the slightly upset man who'd ripped off half the remaining missing persons fliers off the notice board in the diner. Some sort of uppity youth wearing that dumb looking Google glass thingy on his face.

He just couldn't resist.

As one of the staff walked out from behind the counter to confront the man, David took up his camera, framed the shot from his chair, and pushed the shutter.

Zzsh-click.

As he set down his camera to review the shot, he noticed one of the lights flickering. Probably was something to do with the place's age, but then he spied the blue dragonfly perched on the rim of the lamp. He raised his camera again, zoomed in as close as he could without moving, and took another picture. David put his camera down to review the shot and grimaced. Overexposed because of the light.

Ugh.
"It would be extremely difficult. I can run but not that fast. Alright. Time for me to grab him."

Hazan watched as the runner appeared on his visor HUD as a red triangle, mildly satisfied with how their plan had turned out. At least their mark had stuck to the planned route. He drew his hood on over his head and lifted the scarf around his neck to conceal the lower half of his face. In his ragged hoodie, scuffed jeans and work boots, Hazan looked like any other bottom feeder or beggar that populated the slums. But underneath those dirty clothes were elements of his combat armour, and his pistol laid snug in his back holster. He stuffed his talons into his pockets and made his way down the alley towards the runner, idly noting his position on his visor. As he approached the man, he powered off his visor and coughed into his hands. The runner, a slightly taller man, wrinkled his nose as Hazan bumped into him seemingly by accident.

It was no mere coincidence though. Almost immediately, Hazan's arm shot out and wrapped around the man's neck, pulling him into a choke as he pulled him against the wall and out of sight. His other hand whipped out his Predator and jammed the barrel against his back.

"Quiet now, don't want any of your tails to hear you. Now a little bird told me you're running some errands for Tenus Domititus, carrying some important stuff on your person. I want it. Where d'you keep it?"

The man struggled in his grip but that only made Hazan squeeze tighter. He kicked the back of one of his knees and lowered the man to the floor, shifting his grip so that, instead of having an arm around his neck, his talons were entangled in his hair, pulling the man's head backwards as he kept a foot on his legs, arching his back rather painfully as he moved his pistol's barrel to his face.

"I'll give you to the count of three. If you don't tell me where it is, I'm going to turn your face into a bowl for my fruit. One."

The runner struggled and yelped in pain but said nothing. He could feel him shivering in his grasp even as he waited.

"Two."

Hazan waited and still nothing. He clicked the safety off his pistol and sighed.

"Three."

"W-w-wait-"

His shot buried itself in the plas-steel floor, the gunshot echoing down the alley. Hazan smirked as the man audibly whimpered as he recoiled from the pistol that sat next to his ear, instead of in his face. The turian let the red-hot gun barrel sit dangerously close to his cheek as he leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"That was just a warning shot. Now hand over the goods and make it snappy."

The runner reached into his jacket and pulled out a small envelope that rattled with several small objects in it as he pushed it into Hazan's waiting talons.

"H-h-here, I-I'm just a courier, I swear I don't know anything!"

"Oh I know that. Thanks for the hot tip."

He took the envelope, stuffed it into his pocket, and then swung his pistol at the back of the man's head, knocking him unconscious. Hazan dragged his limp body to the side of the alley and propped it up against the wall. Then he took off his hoodie and scarf, draping the spare clothes over the man's body like he was a hobo. Underneath he was clad in a simple t-shirt that made him look like just someone passing through. With the envelope safely in his pocket, he powered up his omnitool and hailed Daro.

"It's done. I've got his stuff. Now let's clear out of here before someone checks in on him."
Can't wait for this to start.
@Liseran Thistle I wouldn't mind sparring with you to get the rust out of my own joints.
"Tenus Domititus...hmm, don't have much information on him, other than what you already mentioned. I'm pretty sure his operation isn't too hard to get a handle for. Give me a little bit of time to dig up a little more and observe his work. I'll get back to you and we'll have something solid to go on."



"Tenus Domititus. Turian, ex-Fleet guy, used to be a lieutenant in the 43rd Scout Battalion, nicknamed 'Riskrunners'. He went AWOL a while back after a mission in the Terminus systems went awry and showed up here. Last I saw from Fleet comms, he was tagged as KIA for that mission. Some skirmish against some slavers, who knows. He's put his talent with people to good use though, strong-armed a lot of smaller merc companies into being in Perix's payroll. Even got himself his own retinue of soldiers, mostly turian, all ex-Fleet or ex-army. Dangerous sorts. I spent the last few days observing his routine, and he's a pretty simple guy."

Seated on a bench in one of Omega's many public spaces (a "park", if you could even call it that), Hazan idly observed his surroundings as he communicated with Daro over their private comms channel. From the outside, it seemed like the casually dressed turian was talking with someone over his omni-tool, synced with his visor, and on a station like this, no one paid casual conversation any mind. But the topic was anything except casual. In his talons was his datapad, a foldable device that fit into the back rigging of his armour or a pocket of his pants, and he scrolled through various documents he'd pulled up on their target during the time he'd spent studying him. With each piece of data he scrolled through, he flung it seamlessly to Daro's omni-tool to let her have a brief read.

"So here's what I know: his operation is contained within a big storage facility, some sort of abandoned warehouse, down by the eastern section of the Lower Slums, converted into a makeshift base. That's where his goons have set up shop. The man himself stays in an apartment complex nearby and is always escorted by two of his guard retinue. The other two are stationed at his base, and the four of them regularly swap shifts, either standing guard for Tenus or coordinating his operations in his base. The base itself is lightly guarded; no one would pay a warehouse that size any mind normally, so they don't have it under lock and key. One guard on the roof, two at the front door, one at the back, one on the side. Lightly armed, the most I've seen out of them are heavy pistols. No outside patrols and, thankfully, no drones. They do, however, have biometric scanners, handheld devices that match a person's genetic footprint to what they've got saved on a database. If you're registered as one of Tenus' goons, you gain access. If not, the scanner blares an alarm and the guards chase you out."

"As for his routine, being ex-military means a pretty readable schedule. He always rises early and leaves his apartment after spending exactly one hour in there doing who knows what. The route he takes to the warehouse changes every day but he seems to alternate between one of four different pre-planned routes through the district. After which, he arrives at his base and stays there for most of the day, leaving late in the evening to return to his apartment. His guard retinue switch duties every two days and shuffle at the end of the week. During the week, Tenus apparently sends out runners to coordinate his affairs with Perix twice a week. Today is one of the runner days, and he sends them out when he leaves the warehouse in the evening."

"Now, opportunities. I assume our goal here is to remove Tenus as Perix's middle man. The salarian loses a vital source of manpower recruitment and a chunk of his property out in the Slums. Without hired guns to harass his businesses, maybe they'll be a bit looser with their tongues for information about his other operations."

"So here's what I have in mind: we need to make sure that Tenus is no longer a threat to us, either by eliminating him, or by dismantling his own operation from the bottom up."

"To do the former, all we have to do is learn his pattern of travel to and from work. You tail him, distract his guards and I'll ambush him when he's vulnerable. Bit to-the-point and up to random chance if we get the right route, but it'll cut the head off the snake and we can topple over the rest of the pieces from there."

"To do the latter... I say we intercept his runner on one of his travel days. We tail the courier, drop him once he's a good distance away from Tenus' place and grab whatever data and funds he's carrying. We'll get access to his troop movements, recruitment rosters, hell maybe even a few credit chits. We can leak those onto the information black market, specifically to other organisations that are currently opposing Perix's gig, and then watch the ensuing fireworks. I'm willing to bet Perix will breathe down Tenus' neck a lot harder if he suffers an info leak, which will make him paranoid and more vulnerable to making mistakes of his own. Once that's done, we can strike. Use blackmail or even violence and Tenus will back off, maybe disappear. Or, and if this happens it'll be a miracle, we can get Tenus onto our side. But as long as Tenus stops being a middle man for Perix, our main goal will have been accomplished."


Hazan sat back in the bench and smiled to himself. As he looked up from his datapad, he watched Tenus and two of his guards cut through the plaza. Their target turian was a big man, taller than Hazan was, with a gun-metal gray carapace and all-too familiar blue face paint that tagged him as a Palaven turian of significant military rank. The two guards flanking him were armed and armoured; Avenger assault rifles sat in their talons and he could spy grenades hooked to the fronts of their armour. Tenus' pace was quick, and within the span of a few moments, he and his two guards vanished down a side street. Hazan closed his datapad and gave his talons a stretch.

"So, what'll it be, Daro? I've laid out the groundwork but I think it's more fitting that you choose our approach."
"Well I mean, inventing a new identity for yourself is an option. And if that's too expensive, well, have you ever considered trying to cap off the problem at the source? I mean, if your boss is hiring mercs to come after you, then I'm betting he's not a good boss to work for."

Hazan followed Daro into her clinic and sat down on one of the many chairs in her rudimentary waiting room. He'd been in here several times over the few months that he'd spent on Omega, one of Daro's regular customers filled with either bullet holes, stab wounds or anything of the sort that demanded pretty much the only honest doctor on the station that didn't overcharge him. Her boss, Perix Jonike, was a scoundrel though. A thorough asshole through and through, putting his genius-level intellect to control a healthcare and medical resource racket so huge that the only person that was bigger than him was Aria T'loak herself. Many had crossed his path; lots of third party mercenaries on Omega had worked for him in one way or another, and he had a few private wings of the real big merc groups like the Blue Suns and Eclipse in his pocket. His clinics and pharmacies overcharged for even the simplest of things like medi-gel or even bandages, his doctors gave cut-price remedies for twice the selling price and a lot of his customers eventually wound up dead from the things his doctors supposedly treated successfully. Daro was one of the doctors on his payroll that, thankfully, didn't subscribe to that whole dumb idea, but he didn't know what she'd done to earn his ire. Regardless, the monopoly on medicine in Omega had to end, one way or another. The station was a shithole, but people deserved to have affordable healthcare without the threat of mercs breathing down their necks if they didn't pay protection fees or overpriced band-aids.

With his background in intelligence and gathering information in the turian Navy, Hazan already had reasonably large dossiers on all the major players on Omega, if and when he returned to the waking world instead of bumming around the ass end of the galaxy. He knew, in general, what Perix's organisation was like, how it was structured and the handful of major players within. However, what information he did have was probably outdated by now; changes in the playing field happened on an almost day-to-day basis and without fresh intel, the thought of some kind of misguided revenge plot would fizzle and die before it could even begin. They had to start small, pick at the bottom feeders before moving up to the big guns. And he had just the idea.

"A salarian like Perix would have a lot of Omega's mercs under his thumb, wouldn't he? Through some sort of third party employer? I bet that's how he got those thugs to harass your clinic. I think we should start with them, see how he's hiring his mercs. If we can dismantle Perix's operation piece by piece, sooner or later he's going to have no where to run when we eventually out this monopoly of his to Aria. Then we can leave him and get out of this shithole while Aria has her way with his guts. Sound good?"
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