Sloan sat down, the place was a bit more empty than she'd expected it to be, but with the rain and the violence, she shouldnt have expected anyone. As Serenity quickly drank her wine she became more and more drowsy and fell asleep on Sloan's shoulder. Sloan let out a quiet sigh and propped Serenity up in the nook of the booth so she didn't look quite so silly being leaned on. "So much for dinner together." She let out, half agitated and half amused. She was going to start muttering to herself like she did at her computer, only to have her attention caught by Lillium. She let out a soft, almost startled, gasp. "Oh, you uh.. spooked me." She glanced over to Serenity. "I guess she's not hungry. I'll have an Italian Panini, take your time." She tells her, motioning to the elf who's gone and dozed off in the shop.
Whenever Lillium gets her order and goes off, Sloan's gaze shifts to the rain the the scarce streets. Her mind shifts from thoughts about how airstream currents function, to how raindrops get larger or smaller. Eventually, she wonders when it'll lighten up. Getting home would, no doubt, be a hassle. The weather was slowly worsening, and even the PMC patrols were becoming few and far between. Serry was drunk, of course, and she wasn't comfortable driving. Let alone with such a strong downpour. Of course, the normal route would still be clogged, even if by vehicles that were abandoned for the sake of more reliable shelter.
Perhaps she was overestimating the weather, perhaps not. Either way, it was more than she wanted to deal with.
How pitiful. She thought. Five minutes in a sandwich shop, and I'm already thinking about how to get home.
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She felt a bit childish for not making any progress in learning how to drive, but mostly she felt she couldn't be bothered by it. She strapped herself into the passenger seat, grinned over at Serenity who was waiting to take her wherever. Before long, they were rolling. The traffic was out and about, due to the assault on the mayoral estate, no doubt. Sloan sighed. Just another day at work. As their car rolled along, she felt a vibration in her pocket. She let out a bit of a weary sigh, she had just left home. After it rang a few times she picked it up. "Vic, you know better than to address me directly over the phone. And yeah, I've been keepin' up with 'em. Just more clowns trying to set things right the wrong way, so far. I've got more for you, but I need to know if your account is still good." She pauses, waiting for a reply. "A'Course I'm gonna wire the money to myself. Like always. Yeah. Alright, here's what I've got so far. Facial recognition came up with nothin', vocal phrasing produced no significant matches, the weapons are from just about everywhere, but the box in the corner'a th'room is from a security corporation under the name of 'Luminescence'. I think they changed their name, I can't find anything new on them since their Security Licensing fell through. Say, Vic, I'm out right now, but when I get back I've got a trace on a number I'd like you to run. Some goon from an 'Algera Corporation' called fishin' for info on this guy as well. Could be bad news. I know they're connected somehow. I'll send you the details later. Ciao." She hangs up, rather abruptly, giving the impression of someone who tends to be a tad occupied. She looks over to Serenity with a weary look, which she quickly turns into a smile.
"I just want a day to relax." She tells Serenity, who seems to be focused more on the road than on her passenger. She catches the top of Serry's wine bottle and smirks just a little. "Serry~, Where are we going?" She asks, trying to get her attention. If her phone rang again she'd toss it out the window. It was all she could do to keep from boiling over from the stress. Had all this really bothered her that much? She kept comparing the incident at the mayoral estate to dinner theater. It must be normal, now anyways, to disregard the violence and murder and the harshness of the world around her and others. How else would they just go out to dinner in the wake of something like that? It was just dinner, and a show.
Her Yakuza informant filled her in on their conflict with the Underhill halflings. Sloan never liked the Yakuza's methods, but their money was just as good as cash, with reliable payments. Their leads were typically good, and their lines were almost as secure as her own. They were, besides Vic, her best clients. It really is a shame that they've picked a fight that was going to be short lived. The biker gangs' numbers were allegedly dwindling. Which is a shame because Sloan typically thought their stature to be cute. Still, you don't bite the hand that feeds you.
"I just want a day to relax." She tells Serenity, who seems to be focused more on the road than on her passenger. She catches the top of Serry's wine bottle and smirks just a little. "Serry~, Where are we going?" She asks, trying to get her attention. If her phone rang again she'd toss it out the window. It was all she could do to keep from boiling over from the stress. Had all this really bothered her that much? She kept comparing the incident at the mayoral estate to dinner theater. It must be normal, now anyways, to disregard the violence and murder and the harshness of the world around her and others. How else would they just go out to dinner in the wake of something like that? It was just dinner, and a show.
Her Yakuza informant filled her in on their conflict with the Underhill halflings. Sloan never liked the Yakuza's methods, but their money was just as good as cash, with reliable payments. Their leads were typically good, and their lines were almost as secure as her own. They were, besides Vic, her best clients. It really is a shame that they've picked a fight that was going to be short lived. The biker gangs' numbers were allegedly dwindling. Which is a shame because Sloan typically thought their stature to be cute. Still, you don't bite the hand that feeds you.
Sloan set down the phone beside her beanbag chair. She felt her gut sink in hunger and with the tiniest bit of butterflies. "O-Oh." She let out, still surprised Serenity was even there. Whenever she stopped working she always had to try to regain composure of the real world, as it were. Her focus was blurred, but gradually went back to normal as Serenity embraced her. Sitting down, she wasn't really in a position to embrace her back, so she simply placed a hand over Serenity's arm softly. "Yeah, dinner sounds great! I could use sustenance." She agrees. Her words sound almost foreign or out of place. Instead of sitting in a dazed silence like an idiot, she figures she ought to speak up about something other than her need for food. "I just got off the phone with a client." She explains. "Not 15 minutes after that news broadcast, I get contracted." She lets out a sigh. "You'd figure that a political assassination would be some sort of earth-shattering disaster. Let alone a full-on assault like that was. Now, it's just another day at work. Down the road, in earshot of a battlefield, and we're going to go to a cafe." She scoffs. "How far we've fallen, huh?" She looks up at Serenity watching her ramble. Perhaps she's said too much. She always wondered that, if she talked too much about too little. Emotional conversation or small talk was so bizarre to her compared to the vast intellectual properties of information she sold. With those it was so cut and dry. Say this, don't say this, if it's brought up mention this, be sure not to allude to this. It was that easy with documented data. But small talk? She just never says enough, or what she does say is bleak.
She takes off her headset and sets it beside the phone, carefully. That thing was her second favorite possession, next to her computer. Sloan looked back up at Serenity and extended a hand to be helped up. Upon standing, she stretches and fetches her wallet from the tote bag on the wall. She slips on her shoes and motions for the door. Of course she couldn't drive there by herself. She only had her learner's permit, and the only adult that could act as her mentor would be Serenity. "Serry," As she often called her as both a pet name and a term of affection. "For the love of God don't make me drive." Her irrational fear of 10-Vehicle-Pileups has stunted her ability and motivation to learn how to drive.
She takes off her headset and sets it beside the phone, carefully. That thing was her second favorite possession, next to her computer. Sloan looked back up at Serenity and extended a hand to be helped up. Upon standing, she stretches and fetches her wallet from the tote bag on the wall. She slips on her shoes and motions for the door. Of course she couldn't drive there by herself. She only had her learner's permit, and the only adult that could act as her mentor would be Serenity. "Serry," As she often called her as both a pet name and a term of affection. "For the love of God don't make me drive." Her irrational fear of 10-Vehicle-Pileups has stunted her ability and motivation to learn how to drive.
Tapping and typing away at her keyboard was Sloan's specialty. Searching databases encrypted and public for information on this man and his message. She started her search on his face, datamaps and scans of the face were compared across United States, and the newly independent Texas databases for facial recognition. No matches. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, it was just her luck that this man's face happened to have zero connections anywhere. Perhaps his words gave a hint. Searching frantically, 'Our Father's Fathers' only gave brief references to a time 3-4 years ago when the nation was far more united.
"I guess that's what he was getting at. Not that it helps." She thought.
The guns were just about all AK-47s, but they're all different. None seem to have the same make or models as one another. Her database inquiry shifts to one more ambiguous. Before long, she finds enough to contact her benefactor, over her 'line', if you could call it that. The security was overbearing and it was untraceable, but the connection bugged her with patchy availability. It wouldn't cut in and out, but when it was available wasn't really up to her. Perhaps it was a bug in the code.
"I'll get Serenity to work on that." She thinks.
After moments of ringing, the man picks up on the other end. "I've found out some of what you'd like to know." She tells him. "But you claimed to be a member of the Algera Corporation. So I've come to three conclusions. The first is that you're trying to gather information on someone with whom you've got a score to settle. The second is that you're testing just how off-the-grid you are. The third is that you don't belong to Algera and are some sort of misinformed agent. I checked your wire, and the money is there, so I doubt that you're trying to set me up, so here is what I know.
Strangely enough, the man's face has no matches on the North American facial recognition network. Unless it's convincing make up or some sort of shapeshifting magic, this guy is as clean as a whistle. Secondly I checked his words. Again, nothing turned up. Next were the firearms. Firstly was weapons trafficking outlets that specialize in the sale of the gun based in North America. No matches. Further examination on the weapons found several of them to be mimics from oversea's manufacturers. No weapons trafficking organizations have any documented or theorized trades for large amounts of AK-47s. Nor were any shipments reported missing or stolen. As far as I can tell the weapons were simply gathered. The interior of the building was all but bland, and didnt give me much to work with. There was however, a box with a typographic logo of an 'L' in the corner of the screen. Cross referencing on regional and global databases while ruling out ridiculous companies, I was able to find a certain company under the name of 'Luminescence'. They specialize, or specialized, in defense and security. Typically they sell automated systems for buildings spanning personal, commercial, and federal use. Public record dictates that prior to their new CEO's promotion the company's licensing was voided. The same records show several PMC's that've purchased systems or services from Luminescence. They are under the names of Red Fire Initiative located in Houston, Ranger Operations which has several global cells, and finally an Algera Corporate. Though, you're not exactly a PMC. Regardless, the name came up.Hence my suspicion from earlier. According to this, there was quite the amount of work done on your Corporate Office building. You may want to get this checked out, by the way. Most of their security details have gone public, which means your offices probably aren't as secure as you'd think.
So, in terms of direction, I'd suggest you find your security contractor and persuade them give up some information on their other clients. Particularly this 'Our Father's Fathers' figure. If you get back to me with a name or other details, I can assist you further. I'll write you in my clientele roster as 'Algera Rep', until otherwise informed."
With that, she wraps up her call with the mysterious stranger. As always, she double checks the security on her line and system to find them fully secure. Before long, she yawns and stretches. Her searching had left here there for some time. Though, she never really notices when she is in the zone. Her office itself is unnoticeable. Sometimes she spends days in it, with the exception of eating. Though, she never really got around to furnishing it. There's a bean bag chair, and all of her computer equipment on her hardwood floor. The room was only the size of a walk-in closet, most of which was occupied by her servers. But who could blame her? She always thought it was cozy. The rest of her loft was, too, but she was much less at home there, then she was in here.
A Knock on the rim her her door draws her attention. Coincidentally, she was still holding the phone, processing what she and her benefactor had just discussed. She looks up. "Serenity?"
"I guess that's what he was getting at. Not that it helps." She thought.
The guns were just about all AK-47s, but they're all different. None seem to have the same make or models as one another. Her database inquiry shifts to one more ambiguous. Before long, she finds enough to contact her benefactor, over her 'line', if you could call it that. The security was overbearing and it was untraceable, but the connection bugged her with patchy availability. It wouldn't cut in and out, but when it was available wasn't really up to her. Perhaps it was a bug in the code.
"I'll get Serenity to work on that." She thinks.
After moments of ringing, the man picks up on the other end. "I've found out some of what you'd like to know." She tells him. "But you claimed to be a member of the Algera Corporation. So I've come to three conclusions. The first is that you're trying to gather information on someone with whom you've got a score to settle. The second is that you're testing just how off-the-grid you are. The third is that you don't belong to Algera and are some sort of misinformed agent. I checked your wire, and the money is there, so I doubt that you're trying to set me up, so here is what I know.
Strangely enough, the man's face has no matches on the North American facial recognition network. Unless it's convincing make up or some sort of shapeshifting magic, this guy is as clean as a whistle. Secondly I checked his words. Again, nothing turned up. Next were the firearms. Firstly was weapons trafficking outlets that specialize in the sale of the gun based in North America. No matches. Further examination on the weapons found several of them to be mimics from oversea's manufacturers. No weapons trafficking organizations have any documented or theorized trades for large amounts of AK-47s. Nor were any shipments reported missing or stolen. As far as I can tell the weapons were simply gathered. The interior of the building was all but bland, and didnt give me much to work with. There was however, a box with a typographic logo of an 'L' in the corner of the screen. Cross referencing on regional and global databases while ruling out ridiculous companies, I was able to find a certain company under the name of 'Luminescence'. They specialize, or specialized, in defense and security. Typically they sell automated systems for buildings spanning personal, commercial, and federal use. Public record dictates that prior to their new CEO's promotion the company's licensing was voided. The same records show several PMC's that've purchased systems or services from Luminescence. They are under the names of Red Fire Initiative located in Houston, Ranger Operations which has several global cells, and finally an Algera Corporate. Though, you're not exactly a PMC. Regardless, the name came up.Hence my suspicion from earlier. According to this, there was quite the amount of work done on your Corporate Office building. You may want to get this checked out, by the way. Most of their security details have gone public, which means your offices probably aren't as secure as you'd think.
So, in terms of direction, I'd suggest you find your security contractor and persuade them give up some information on their other clients. Particularly this 'Our Father's Fathers' figure. If you get back to me with a name or other details, I can assist you further. I'll write you in my clientele roster as 'Algera Rep', until otherwise informed."
With that, she wraps up her call with the mysterious stranger. As always, she double checks the security on her line and system to find them fully secure. Before long, she yawns and stretches. Her searching had left here there for some time. Though, she never really notices when she is in the zone. Her office itself is unnoticeable. Sometimes she spends days in it, with the exception of eating. Though, she never really got around to furnishing it. There's a bean bag chair, and all of her computer equipment on her hardwood floor. The room was only the size of a walk-in closet, most of which was occupied by her servers. But who could blame her? She always thought it was cozy. The rest of her loft was, too, but she was much less at home there, then she was in here.
A Knock on the rim her her door draws her attention. Coincidentally, she was still holding the phone, processing what she and her benefactor had just discussed. She looks up. "Serenity?"
Name: Sláine 'Sloan' Sirona
Race: Human with Implants
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Profession: Professional Hacker / Information Broker
Appearance:
Equipment:
-Standard Modern Cellular Phone. (In today's terms, the latest and greatest iPhone or Android would work just fine, If the universe lacks a specific sort of brand or interface I'll end up creating one.)
-VI-K3 Goggles, comeplete with a vast array of vision types, spanning UV, Infared, Visible Spectrum. The Goggles also provide a pick-up scanner which gives detailed, accurate, and quick information based on the electronic makeup of technology within it's sights. (If she were to look at a computer while it were running, she could see portions of the internal hardware makeup This works on most implants as well.) Additionally, the goggles are able to map out floorplans of buildings in a 3D Projection, or through the regular eyesockets of the goggles.
-Advanced Computer Setup, running a modified Linux Kernel, with an average speed of 2 TerraFLOPS with smooth and rapid processing.
Implants: Basic yet secure wireless signal integration for mobile use of her computer as well as serving as a database for her VI-K3's
Magic: Techmaturgy, the ability to manipulate technology magically, rather than physically. The correct use of her skills will allow her to render an opponent's implants useless, or a compound's (Such as a bank, or a warehouse) security useless. Typically she'll be either in the field, or in her office.
Personality: While she's working she tends to have the expression of, "Let me get this done, my way.". However, outside of her work she tends to be particularly mature for her age. She takes what she needs to live comfortably. She likes gaming, hates to be interrupted, and is very analytic.
Bio:
"So y'found yer way to my little hole in the wall huh?" The short girl asks through the slide in her doorway. It was the kind of slide you might see in a bad mob movie. Some goon would open it and blurt 'Whatz the password?', before slamming it shut and unbolting two dozen locks to let in whoever it was on the other side.
The girl's eyes squint. "Who told you anyways? Was is that rat Clyde? I'll have-.." She clears her throat, seemingly forgetting she was in the company of another. "...Nevermind. What can I do for you? And did you bring cash?" She asks, eyeing you up and down.
Misc: Currently, she is living in a city loft with her roommate Serenity Davis and her cat.
Company/Organization: While she is a freelance Information Broker and tech specialist, her best client is The Yakuza, who have always found her information and assistance to be useful in their crimes.
Race: Human with Implants
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Profession: Professional Hacker / Information Broker
Appearance:
Equipment:
-Standard Modern Cellular Phone. (In today's terms, the latest and greatest iPhone or Android would work just fine, If the universe lacks a specific sort of brand or interface I'll end up creating one.)
-VI-K3 Goggles, comeplete with a vast array of vision types, spanning UV, Infared, Visible Spectrum. The Goggles also provide a pick-up scanner which gives detailed, accurate, and quick information based on the electronic makeup of technology within it's sights. (If she were to look at a computer while it were running, she could see portions of the internal hardware makeup This works on most implants as well.) Additionally, the goggles are able to map out floorplans of buildings in a 3D Projection, or through the regular eyesockets of the goggles.
-Advanced Computer Setup, running a modified Linux Kernel, with an average speed of 2 TerraFLOPS with smooth and rapid processing.
Implants: Basic yet secure wireless signal integration for mobile use of her computer as well as serving as a database for her VI-K3's
Magic: Techmaturgy, the ability to manipulate technology magically, rather than physically. The correct use of her skills will allow her to render an opponent's implants useless, or a compound's (Such as a bank, or a warehouse) security useless. Typically she'll be either in the field, or in her office.
Personality: While she's working she tends to have the expression of, "Let me get this done, my way.". However, outside of her work she tends to be particularly mature for her age. She takes what she needs to live comfortably. She likes gaming, hates to be interrupted, and is very analytic.
Bio:
"So y'found yer way to my little hole in the wall huh?" The short girl asks through the slide in her doorway. It was the kind of slide you might see in a bad mob movie. Some goon would open it and blurt 'Whatz the password?', before slamming it shut and unbolting two dozen locks to let in whoever it was on the other side.
The girl's eyes squint. "Who told you anyways? Was is that rat Clyde? I'll have-.." She clears her throat, seemingly forgetting she was in the company of another. "...Nevermind. What can I do for you? And did you bring cash?" She asks, eyeing you up and down.
Misc: Currently, she is living in a city loft with her roommate Serenity Davis and her cat.
Company/Organization: While she is a freelance Information Broker and tech specialist, her best client is The Yakuza, who have always found her information and assistance to be useful in their crimes.
[Reserved]
[Reserved]
"I.. I was there. When the Dead Throne rose from the pit of the earth at the Icon of Sin. I was there. When the the earth split in two below our feet and our wretched purity was purged deep within our souls. When you lost your very humanity and became just another mindless, beautiful, creature with a soul that belongs to he who sits on the throne. Hollowed out like a shell in the sand."
The voice becomes more manic.
"The sand that fills that shell, each disgusting, insignificant piece of filth, every act of putrid selflessness and kindness you've ever committed. Each and every gesture of peace and love and happiness! Have you no shame? Have you no guilt or hatred or an ounce of evil within you? After all, you're just a shred of the deepest resentment the human mind can offer. You are every piece of beautifully grotesque imperfections and you will not be silenced. I will not be silenced. We will not be silenced."
The voice has devolved into a crazed sort of gibbering.
"Th-... The gift, you've got to give the gift. You-have-got-to-give-the-gift. Generosity is the only vile goodness that must accompany the bearers, for they are the ones who give the gift. The gift, the.. I.. and when you... when the words are spoken and your flesh seethes with a pure and most wondrous disgust, may you rescind your skin, peel layer after layer in hatred and pain and expose yourself to be purged and only then can you be free of the gift. Only then. Only. Then."
There is silence, and then...
"Are.. are you back so soon? But.. your skin clings to your bones on the very spot you stand. On the very spot where you drown in sorrow and melancholy. Cease this madness! Before it's too late! Dig into the surface and skin from flesh from muscle from blood from bone from marrow, and indulge in the everlasting glory of the Dead Throne. And when your soul wails for more and more and more rip the sanity out of your skull and sacrifice it to soothe your crying spirit. Blessed be thine spirit and thine eyes which have seen the impending pestilence. The terror and horror that fill until your seams are stretched and you burst into a million shards tha-.. that fill.. the next shell."
"The sand that fills that shell, each disgusting, insignificant piece of filth, every act of putrid selflessness and kindness you've ever committed. Each and every gesture of peace and love and happiness! Have you no shame? Have you no guilt or hatred or an ounce of evil within you? After all, you're just a shred of the deepest resentment the human mind can offer. You are every piece of beautifully grotesque imperfections and you will not be silenced. I will not be silenced. We will not be silenced."
"Th-... The gift, you've got to give the gift. You-have-got-to-give-the-gift. Generosity is the only vile goodness that must accompany the bearers, for they are the ones who give the gift. The gift, the.. I.. and when you... when the words are spoken and your flesh seethes with a pure and most wondrous disgust, may you rescind your skin, peel layer after layer in hatred and pain and expose yourself to be purged and only then can you be free of the gift. Only then. Only. Then."
"Are.. are you back so soon? But.. your skin clings to your bones on the very spot you stand. On the very spot where you drown in sorrow and melancholy. Cease this madness! Before it's too late! Dig into the surface and skin from flesh from muscle from blood from bone from marrow, and indulge in the everlasting glory of the Dead Throne. And when your soul wails for more and more and more rip the sanity out of your skull and sacrifice it to soothe your crying spirit. Blessed be thine spirit and thine eyes which have seen the impending pestilence. The terror and horror that fill until your seams are stretched and you burst into a million shards tha-.. that fill.. the next shell."
The Mind, flayed.
YamiCuoreLaroux said
Hi there! It's cool to see another cosplayer around! I hope you enjoy your time here! If you need help with anything, feel free to ask. Most people are pretty nice here.
Thanks! ^^
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