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RP: Bastardpiece Theater [Bastardpiece Theater] Act I: First Steps

"No questions." Fian grinned while cracking his knuckles. He had no doubt about the involvment of THAT agency in this and he is treating this as an extension on his regular SMoDIN contract. Which means, dispite his personal anti-authority slant, another tour of Yes Sir/No Sir/Right Away Sir. All Nacon (if Nacon was really the one calling the shots, there was no telling how deep this cell's IPG rabbit hole goes) needed to do was point Fian towards the enemy.

He was also relieved to not actually be in charge for once.
 
Kurt elected to light a cigarette while Nacon was briefing the greenhorns, slowly walking the perimeter of the apartment room, mostly to give himself something to do in between checking through the windows into the areas around.

"None of you will receive material support from the office," Kurt looked toward Amy "but don't worry, none of you will have your affiliations be compromised. One, you have no affiliations with any government agency. Two, I'll probably shoot you if it gets to be that bad." Kurt grinned, and placed his hand on his right hip, revealing a suppressed pistol holstered under his sweatshirt.

"The office might not have elected to send material support, but you've got moral support in my presence being here." At Dex's little challenge, Kurt locked eyes with him. "You have tattoos? And for a moment I thought some diseased fucking bird took a shit all over your back."
 
The pharmacist licked his lips thinking he wasn't sure he wanted to ask any more questions than necessary. "No questions here," he sighed, "at lest no yet. I'm sure what I need to know will be clear enough as it comes up." Dick then put his hands in his pockets and shuffled a few of the tiny bottles he had in them.
 
Dex knew a challenge when he heard one. No doubt if this continued, it would end with himself and Kurt attempting to kill each other. His eyes narrowed for a moment, while the man took a deep breath and followed it up with a drag from his cigarette. "Watch what you say about the corps. These names here belonged to some of the meanest sons of bitches Nepleslia managed to create in these fucked up streets." He informed the man as a cloud of smoke escaped his nostrils.
 
The strange noise of a Delsaurian groaning - through its nose of all things - filled the air.

"No, no, you dummy," Nacon sighed at Dex, shifting about to go from laying belly down to sitting on his rear. Raising its hands to explain, it went on to seriously explain to the man just what was what. "We are a group of - " the Delsaurian stopped there and sighed again, stopping itself. Shaking its head and letting it hang in a mix of embarrassment and shame, the little lizard spoke again as a single scaly palm was brought to his face. "Yes...we're just a bunch of patriotic mercenaries who are interested in bettering Nepleslia through any means," he answered the none too bright Nepleslian.

When Nacon was done facepalming, he answered Amy - "Yes, it's more or less just as Kurt said. There's no affiliations whatsoever for the lot of you to worry about, and the one you do have to worry about, nobody will ever find out of...of course," he began more slyly, "If they do find out that then there's bigger things to worry about. Namely the whole establishment crumbling and eating itself from the inside out and all that. No big deal." Looking at Dick, he went on to add, "Should everything go well, nothing will ever clear up at all," Nacon smiled.

At that, he hopped up off the bean bag and onto short little feet and walked deeper into the apartment, entering its kitchen "Now, with that short intro out of the way - as well as your absurdly petty concerns about artificial skin pigmentation - anyone want some Pozole before we move on to the brief on our first go?" the Delsaurian asked, taking a lid off of a pot to reveal a savory, spicy soup. "Don't worry - that small clan's days of ripping Nepleslians' hearts out of their chests before tossing the bodies down the stairs of our temples to feed blood to our gods before yet again tossing them into soup are long over!" he smiled.

"I'm sure your all hungry for details - it's chicken."
 
Kurt said:
"but don't worry, none of you will have your affiliations be compromised. One, you have no affiliations with any government agency. Two, I'll probably shoot you if it gets to be that bad."
Click to expand...

Amy chuckled at the 'joke' despite knowing that he probably wasn't kidding. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time somebody has stabbed me in the back on the job." She shrugged and smiled a little at the smell of the food. If Nacon or Kurt had wanted to kill them, they passed several opportunities to do so already, and she didn't make a habit of turning down meals. "As for the soup? Sure I'll take some."
 
Dex couldn't help but notice that Nacon seemed to be patronizing him by repeating his question back to him as an answer. "Sir, this isn't my first rodeo. There's no need to patronize me." he said to the reptilian individual while brushing a bit of loose hair out of his face. At the mention of soup, the marine hunger that seemed to overtake every man or woman after some time spent in the NSMC, Dex's stomach gave a small rumble.

"I could eat. Much appreciated." replied the man at the offer of soup.
 
"Not stab in back - very different from that," the Delsaurian remarked, inviting them into the small kitchen as he scooted a small stool over to the stove.

Standing up on it and ladling out orange-crimson broth, hominy and shredded meat and all, he explained to Amy just why that wasn't the case. "Just protecting nation and secrets really. You all know why we're here after all, yes?" he asked them all. Looking at Dex, he added, "At least, I think so. And I'm not entirely sure, but, it can't be 'back stabbing' if agreed on I think." The Delsaurian proceeded to fill a second bowl for the man, and then waddled over to the fridge to bring out a small plate, garnishing the bowls with finely diced onions, cilantro and a slice of avocado each.

"Anyways. First steps are simple - pulled some strings, so will get to be bodyguards to important people in La Famiglia." Eying them briefly with a green eye as the bowls were set down on a nearby dinner table with a spoon in each, he went on to explain more to them. "One of the Old Families - an illegitimate daughter of one of the Bosses to be specific. Only, she isn't a daughter at all. Someone else he's trying to protect really." Leisurely sitting down at the table's head, chair turned so its backing was to the side to make way for his tail, Nacon tapped the table with a claw in thought.

"Regardless, in return for killing first wave of expected hitmen hired to kill her, we will get equipment and intelligence to point us the right way - they promised it would be good, and they've never lied on this yet." Clasping his hands together in a smile, he asked,

"How's that sound? Never really briefed anybody before - closest thing would have been dealing cards and telling rules really," the Delsaurian admitted.
 
Dick mostly just kept his eyes on the rutting bulls in case he needed to dodge something until the mention of food came up. He was tempted, but he also had a little to eat before arriving at the bar so he didn't say much. However, when Nacon had finished setting Dex and Amy up, the pharmacist started to wonder if he should have put in for a bowl too.

The briefing was concise and to the point and the information seemed pretty simple. Not quite the complicated to freak out about, but dealing with higher level gangsters was not Dick's idea of the safest job either. What did it matter though, the danger was part of why he signed on.

"Not bad," he replied to the Delsaurian, "but I'm no professional in that area, so I may not be able to judge properly."
 
Fian blinked twice in mild disbelief. He honestly didnt know much about the history of other non-Nepleslian creatures that called DION space their home and this surprised him. "Your kind actually did Nepleslian sacrifices? I think I just lost my appetite."

"Sounds like a good start, we'll start at self defence, then maybe graduate to manslaughter, murder and genocide in the next few missions?" The ex-Marine was only half joking. "What does she look like?"
 
The marine seemed to become more serious than he had been te entire night. "Do we have a layout of the area? How many should we expect? Their armament? Should we expect any other trouble? Drive bys from vehicles?" Shot the line of questioning. He was a sergeant and as such it was his job to make sure his men were prepared for anything. Then he remembered that this wasn't a conventional military unit.

When he thought about it, he wasn't even sure that Amy and Dick had served in the military. He didn't get the vibe he got from other former marine or navy personnel. While he waited for his questions to be answered, he dug into the soup. "So what if they did? I'm sure we did some pretty fucked up shit to them." He replied to Fian with a shrug.
 
The Delsaurian nodded at Dick's feedback, but chuckled darkly at Fian's words.

"I prefer the word 'people' over 'kind'," the chubby reptilian replied, eying him with an alien eye. "Besides, haven't you been following along with the little hints I leave here and there? Bad habit of mine but still! Haven't you?" Nacon asked, tilting his head to the side. Holding up a hand to lazily count in his chair, he went on. "Pre-Industrial civilization sees a whole bunch of aliens coming out of orbit like locusts, flying objects exploding villages, handheld weapons the likes of which we never seen before, metal vehicles that needed no animals to move...but wait, it gets worse!" he playfully, mockingly exclaimed.

"The fact that it all lined up with the 'end of the world prophecy' that was the In thing at the time since our ancient calendar was expiring wasn't helpful either!" He shook his head. "Really, it was just supposed to be renewed," Nacon explained, holding his hands up in frustration. "Nobody likes making a super-accurate calendar that goes right down to the minutes and seconds." Shaking his head, he went on in a mocking tone, "Let's leave extending that for the later generation several hundred years later they said! Bah! See how that turned out..."

Eying Fian again, the Delsaurian finished. "So yes, some of us started getting crazy. Blood for the Blood Gods and all that. What did you expect?" the lizard asked, palms up in the air. Waving it off as though he were lazily shooing a fly away with a scaly hand however, Nacon went back to the briefing. "Anyways, no layout. We'll figure it out soon though. The girl isn't a prisoner or anything after all, so she comes and goes too. Again, we're basically being some hired muscle to cover the girl for the shitstorm they know that'll eventually come. No idea when it'll come, but it'll come."

Getting up and out of his seat, Nacon's short legs carried him over to one of the kitchen drawers - opening one, he pulled out a .45 and shoved that aside, doing the same with a box of ammo. It wasn't until he pulled out a box of suppositories that he opened it up and turned around with an envelope. "Keeps people away - I find folks are sensitive about their rears," he explained. Pulling out several hundred DA, as well as a picture, the Delsaurian slid it across the table for the others to see.

"I'm guessing that she's got a pretty face," Nacon remarked.

The picture was taken from the shoulders up, with her clearly unaware that she was being photographed as she looked elsewhere. She seemed quite young, with short cut golden blonde hair and a mousy, meekness to her face. Her eyes though, were an emerald green. "Anyways, cash is for our 'uniforms' and such. Guns, they'll give. If you guys are all good - and I'm guessing this should be Amy's line, but whatever - you guys ready to go shopping?" the Delsaurian grinned.

Rows of sharp, small, shining teeth shown in the light.
 
Dex said little else after his question had been answered with a negative. Instead he pulled another cigarette from his pocket and smoked at it while he listened intently to the rest of the briefing. Ignoring the soup for the most part after that, he watched as Nacon drew the money from the envelope and said something about shopping.

"Uniforms? I didn't know hired muscle got uniforms now." mumbled the man while exhaling a cloud of smoke.
 
Amy finished up her soup while listening; it was surprisingly good. "Watch over a young girl who's being targeted for death? Sounds like this could get complicated fast." she shrugged, clinking a spoon against the bowl.

"We'll have to be careful, the attacker usually has the advantage in situations like these. We will be forced to fight on their terms, and people targeted by death have a bad habit of doing stupid things and not listening to their bodyguards." she nodded to Nacon.

"Right, uniforms. If Prettyboy over here walks into the criminal underground dressed for the ball like that, we're going to draw some suspicion- and be laughed out of the room." she gestured with a smirk. He actually wasn't dressed too out of place, (although he could use some dirtying up) but she enjoyed the chance to poke him.

"I don't know what kind of backgrounds you folk come from, but if we're working for a mob boss, there are different rules to follow. There is no military court: if you are a liability or are acting suspicious, you will end up taking a lovely car ride that you won't come back from."
 
Fian paused to let Nacon's little history lesson sink in. He remembered he was part of a first contact mission, once. Unlike Delsaurians who were just described to have had their culture and understanding of the world turned upside down and then forcefully integrated into the Nepleslian Empire, the Freespacers were the complete opposite, generally still living their self-contained and independent lives while enjoying the full benefits of living, trading and being protected in Nepleslian space. Which proves to show that bringing people into the galactic community doesn't need to be an unplesant process if the diplomacy is done with a little tact.

Fian wondered if the Freespacers paid tax.

"So are we looking at streetwear or dark suits and ties?" He asked whimsically, one hand upturned and the other one on his hip, but he already had his own answer on this. It depends on if we are the Fishermen or the Bait.
 
Dick found the history lesson an interesting diversion, but found the answers to Dex's questions more interesting. When the picture got passed around he took a quick look. "Cute," he commented of highhandedly, "reminds me of why I avoided trouble like that in college."

The mention of getting uniforms however, pulled up images of the private security professionals that took care of some of the buildings in his area - on of which would maybe do a round of his building once a night. He made an effort to wipe that picture out of his mind though as it was possible that might be considered too flashy and get them all killed. Then Amy's small education in the ways of the underworld came up and his eyebrows went up slightly.

"Well then," he began in reply, "What do you recommend as appropriate attire for these shenanigans?"
 
Listening to the others debate on what they thought the uniforms might be, Dex took a long pull of his cigarette before allowing the pungent cloud of smoke into the open. "If we're hired muscle, I doubt the family is going to want us to look like one of them. Personal experience has shown that sometimes the most useful deterant isn't a squad of men in suits, but the visible Mercs in tactical gear. Might make em think about it a differently." Added the marine sergeant into the open air.

Glancing around he expected he would be given an odd look and another mild insult from the Delsaurian. Or at the worst, Kurt. Shrugging it off, he watched the proceedings.
 
"Please, do any of you think we're normal muscle?" the Delsaurian asked, still grinning away. "No. So we get to look good. Not Made Man good, they were clear on that, but good."

Picking up the cash, he decided it was time to get started.

*****

"Looks good on you, but it's not done yet!~" Nacon giggled with glee.

Hurriedly running about in the department store, the short Delsaurian grabbed a step-stool and placed it right down beside Fian. The young man, already dressed in a black, pinstriped suit with white shirt and red tie, suddenly found himself with a chubby lizard plopping a matching fedora right onto his head, stylishly canted off to the side. Hopping off of the small stool, the Delsaurian stood back to appreciate his work, framing the Nepleslian in his hands like a movie director would envision a shot. "Whee-hee!~" he half-squeed-half-whistled through his nostrils

Needless to say, it was a very, very strange sound.

Taking another step back and recovering a little bit of decorum however, he addressed the others. "Remember, just need to look good. Nice and professional - a red tie is a must, but otherwise, that's it." Looking at Kurt, he asked, "What'cha think boss? He look good? Oh wait - maybe I should ask Amy since Amy is a female," he offhandedly corrected himself. "Amy, does he look good?"

If anything, it was starting to come into question whether or not he could even tell if Nepleslians were 'good looking' or not. At the least though, he did have a good taste in clothing.
 
Dick passed by by with a cream coloured shirt with green pants and jacket over one arm and looked over at the commotion. "Red tie, got it," he said in reply to Nacon, then took a better look at Fian. "He looks like he needs a cane," the pharmacist smiled trying not to chuckle, "the kind with a fancy metal knob on the end."

The chemist then had one of the clerks lead him to one of the change rooms where he could try on what he found. He entered the room on his own, hung the clothing, which revealed a set of brown shoes and a leather belt he had also picked up. Setting the rest down, Dick soon got to disrobing, then throwing on the new clothes.
 
"Whoa hold it there Dick, we're supposed to protect her, not sell her." Fian chuckled. He then looked at himself in the mirror and smiled, it must have been years since he had put on something meant to be aesthetically pleasing instead of practical or comfortable. Maker be damned, I need to do this more often. The Vel Steyr then spontaneously broke into a small dance infront of the mirror and ending it with a move one of his Privates taught him, they called it the Moonwalk.

"Maybe if the girl takes a fancy on me, I could go real deep undercover in the La Famillia." He joked.
 
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