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  • 📅 February and March 2024 are YE 46.2 in the RP.

RP [Shades of Green] Side A Track001: Phthalo

SirSkully

🦊 FM of Neshaten
🦾 FM of Nepleslia
🎖️ Game Master
RP Date
YE 44.7
RP Location
Funky City
The ever-present smog and haze of Neplslia's distinct breed of capitalism was inescapable, doubly so in the shadow of Funky City's urban sprawl. Too-bright neon lighting reflecting off the various pieces of chrome on both citizens and vessels alike, the skyline above was dominated by hulking cargo freighters and phallic skyscrapers alike. Weathered concrete and the alluring scent of their next paycheck was the only thing keeping a decent chunk of the populace from falling to the dark badlands land below, the kingdom of mutants who'd eyes had never been graced by natural sunlight.

One such beacon of money-making was a refurbished warehouse sitting on the seam where the city's industrial and commercial districts collided, a bastion of fast-drying concrete and metal plating that hopefully dissuaded most small criminals from trying their luck. Rugged volumetric projectors threw the words "VEILFIRE TACTICAL" across the front and sides of the store in green, stylized lettering that stood out nicely against the grey and black exterior - further projectors showing off live pricing graphs tied to various popular brands of ammunition and others displaying bits of promotional work for new and upcoming bits of kit.

It stood out a lot, despite its location beneath a major artery of the city's aerial pathing network, backed by a sea of bland refineries and factories on one side, but by stores covered in too-bright paint that was beginning to flake off on the other. It was a nice middle-ground in comparison. What also might've stood out to some of the more cybernetically-sensitive of the assembled crew, who were yet to actually be introduced to each-other, was that something was taking scans of them. Not just from your run of the mill, off the shelf scanning unit either, something that used older military protocols while trying to glean serial numbers and whatever else it could.

But it was older, and nothing was ever perfect, that combined with an otherwise empty parking lot might be a cause for concern for more paranoid individuals~

For some of the crew it'd been almost two weeks since they'd met Ms. Belmont, and for others it'd barely been three days, but they'd all been given the same date and time to arrive. That time was now, a little before true-sunset, the orange colossi steadily dipping behind the distant wall of skyscrapers that most denizens counted as the horizon. The store's front doors slid open to reveal a fair-skinned woman with a Veilfire Tactical employee shirt practically painted onto her well-proportioned figure, asymmetric bob of red hair bouncing against her angular features as she waved to someone in the store and made her way towards one of the city's public transportation hubs. Paying little mind to any of the assembled crew as the clicks of her heeled boots grew distant, a military surplus duffle-bag hanging from one arm decorated with panels of synthetic skin.

Maybe a minute after the redhead left another figure made their way out that sliding door, though this one was much more familiar. The distinctly pear-shaped figure of one Remy Belmont crossed the threshold in all her green-haired glory, showcasing a stylish suit dress showing off her stocking-clad legs and a bullpup shotgun hanging off a single-point sling as she took a few steps closer. But it was obvious that Remy was keeping a cautious bit of distance, despite having talked with each person before-hand.

"Thank you all for coming, but I do have one final thing to mention before we get started... it's unfortunate but it is what it is," Remy spoke rather bluntly, offering a small shrug before adjusting her grip on the shotgun a little, squeezing the rubberized pistol grip visibly tighter just in case...

"None of you are taking this as some elaborate opportunity to rob me blind I hope? this here is business, try to fuck me over and you'll regret it, that I can guarantee without a doubt."
 
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One of the assembled crew stood out like a sore thumb, it wasn't actually because of her height, being two meters tall wasn't as uncommon here has it was other places. It also wasn't the green hair, similar to Remy's. It was the fact that below the waist, she didn't have any legs, just a long thick tail that she coiled under herself. Separa'Shan were less rare outside the Empire, thanks to the Kuvexian invasion and subsequent diaspora. Sanssinia had been in Nepleslia for longer than most. First as a slave, then as a mercenary medic. She was known for being one of the best medics you could buy. While she often joined groups like this, she rarely stayed for long. "If you ever had anything worth stealing, it's long gone by now." She said in a serious tone, but the juxtaposition suggested humor.
 
Mako hadn’t not considered robbing the woman, but trying alone would’ve simply ended with her full of lead. She wouldn’t have any more creditors if she was dead, but she didn’t plan on going out that way. Putting away enough to retire to a villa on some tropical island was more her style. She’d settle for a penthouse up above the smog.

Penthouses were a thing for future Mako to worry about. Currently, she sat propped on a box in a warehouse as a babe of a fixer tried to stitch together a crew out of a group of absolute misfits.

“Nah, not gonna rob ya today.” Mako ran her tongue across an overly long canine and grinned. “That’s one big score, we’ll all get a lot richer together in the long run. Let’s keep it that way, ‘kay?” She was getting the hang of this whole ‘consequential thinking’ thing.



the growing Mako playlist
 
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Vana had arrived at the stated time stood with her back against a wall, eyeing her surroundings. Porky sat at her feet, his tongue hanging out at his ears and nose twitching this way and that. Vana had on a camo cloak over her shoulders which completely hid the old BDU shirt she had on along with the shoulder harness that held her revolver and straight silver. It didn't quite cover her dark leather pants or her high combat boots. Nor did it hide the big rifle still slung over her shoulders. Her strawberry-blond hair was kept back by a red bandana tied like a dew rang on her head. On her cheek was a blue dragon tattoo with its tail wrapped around a crosshairs. She was wearing large glasses on the bridge of her nose that seemed very out of place. Until you learned that Vana was actually deaf and her glasses acted as transcribers, writing down whatever people were saying so she could follow along in the conversation.

Vana had lost her hearing a few years ago. Normally in Nep it was easy to get cybernetic replacements but for some reason Vana's body had rejected any and all audio implants. As a result, she had been medically discharged from the Army where she had been a decorated sniper. Although her family, the influential Canterbury Clan, would done anything to help her try some different and very expensive implants to try and fix her hearing Vana had refused their help. Like most of Clan, she was proud and wanted to make her own way in the world. So she had gone out to try to earn the money she needed for some experimental new implants.

However, she hadn't had much luck finding a good job. She didn't want to use any of her Clan's connections for work and so far no one seemed interested in hiring an ex-sniper who was deaf. That is, until she had run into Ms Belmont. Remy seemed willing to give her a chance and for that Vana was extremally grateful. She wasn't sure yet what the job was, but she had done a little digging into Ms Belmont and the woman seemed mostly to be on the up and up.

So here she was, in a room with a bunch of strangers waiting to hear what the job was. Vana was a little nervous. It wasn't that she was afraid of a fight. Far be it. She had been fighting since she was old enough to hold a gun off the ground. But now she was completely on her own. The Clan wasn't here. The army wasn't here. It was just her and her Gunhund, PORK.

Vana smiled and chuckled a few seconds after the comments had been made. That's because it took her glasses a few seconds to transcribe what was being said. "I wouldn't try to rob the first person to give me a job. I'm too loyal for that." She spoke louder than the others had, almost but not quite shouting. She had no way to monitor her volume. Unless she was sure of where she was, Vana preferred to use hand signals she'd picked up in the army to communicate but here she felt she could safely speak.
 
The chill of free air and old dust hit Calico's sinuses harshly, causing the cyborg woman to produce a pink hanky of the finest silk. She was a effete thing, quite out of place- A combination of heavyweight chrome limbs, and a long frilly ritual dress of green and blue. Too many years in the deep void had twisted the flesh-and-blood Nepleslian into a composite construct, a self-educated technomad quite outside of capitalist notions.

Here, on her homecoming, she welcomed the gaze of the looming AI, feeling it's lidar waves pass through her, affording it silent greeting as one might a large passing land mammal. The planet's gravity, though, that had become an oppressive feeling since her time away, and it put a dour strain on her organs, something fierce. Almost caused her to lose her pervasive smile.

"Oh shucks, y'all not be worrying about me, sweet pea!~" A mechanical claw pressed her glasses back up her nose, whilst the glad rag was briefly wafted in the air towards Remy, dramatically. The way the glimmering array of tiny extra-sensor nodes on her head moved suggest they were doing most of the actual 'looking'. "Like the cat says, I'm sure we all here just to-"

The thought was interrupted by Vana's loud voice, something she mistook for bravado instead of hearing problems. Calico still supressed the lilting laugh behind her hanky to avoid offending them, regardless.

"Good golly, this dust does affect my humours~..."
 
This planet is going to take a lot to get used to...
It's so loud and smells awful.


Walking beside Remy was what seemed to, initially, be some sort of assistant - a golden-haired lady with pronounced, animalistic ears, eyes bluer than the oceans had ever been, and a suit that seemed to be straining ever so slightly to keep her body in check. If it hadn't been for the proportions of her developed body, this fox might have passed for a teenager of some corpo exec or who-ever, a troublemaker who needed to be taught a lesson of "how hard the streets are" and all that nonsense. The way she spoke with the Belmont mistress made it clear she was here for the same reason everyone else was, however.

Ears pointing and bouncing with decades of habit, Victoria informed Remy in irregular Trade, "The weapon was held up in Customs, my handler should depart in a short time minutes." Seems this was a new arrival.
 
Veilfire Tactical, Exterior
"Well I'm glad nobody's started shooting each other yet," Remy nodded, her features curling into a slight smile as some of that concern faded away, gloved hand unfurling to let that shotgun fall against her hip. Jokes, loyalty and aspirations of penthouses... Remy could work with this. Nobody was yelling about blood feuds or complaining about each-other's past affiliations, at least not yet, hopefully it stayed that way.

The greenette turned to the Daur that'd poked her head out and offered a small shrug, "Had I known you were trying to move hardware, Ms Vimschev, I would have offered to expedite the process. Offer stands if you need to import more while you're here," Remy nodded, turning back to the assembled group in the parking lot.

"Lets get everyone in out of the smog so we can start talking about the job at hand, still waiting on one more face to show up but we can catch them up if and when they arrive~" the green-haired businesswoman explained further, beckoning everyone inside with a wave of her hand before retreating inside herself, shotgun gently clattering against her prominent backside with each slightly sashayed step.

Veilfire Tactical, Interior
HVAC units placed at key locations around the store worked quietly to filter out caustic chemicals and small hints of radioactive ash from the air as it passed into the store, keeping the interior at a comfortable 20°C/68°F and keeping the humidity low, perfect for not tarnishing any of the hardware that lined every surface that wasn't the floor. Faux-wood panelling and durandium mounting hardware lined the walls, populated by just about every bit of combat gear one would expect to find in a reputable Nepleslian store. Remy strutted past a rack of plate-carriers and flak-vests as she approached the counter, where a table was set up with a series of volumetric protectors and terminals lining its surface. Sensors continued to monitor the crew as they entered, Vana's sharpshooter eyes noticing some differences in the panelling of the roof, likely concealing some kind of turret network... hopefully it was just a defensive measure on Remy's behalf, the place was a store first and foremost, but it must make for one hell of a fortress if the need arose.

In one corner of the store sat a glass-walled office cubicle that was no doubt where Remy did boring things like filing taxes and verifying shipping manifests, a dark electronic tint concealing its exact lay-out, but judging by how heavy-duty the brackets in each corner were the glass was likely reinforced, and at least a few inches thick.

A metal-on-glass thud drew everyone's attention back to Remy, the emerald-maned businesswoman setting out a tray of shot-glasses, accompanied by a bottle of strong-looking Kuznyetski vodka.

"Right," the woman spoke, giving everyone time to get a little more comfortable before she continued, unthreading the lid from the bottle of spirit.

"As some of you might have gathered, while legal and all above board, the job I've gathered you all for is quite grey... anyone who doesn't want any part in it has one last chance to step out and go back home. If you stay, and hold up your end of the arrangement, there's a lot of money to be had," she explained, pouring vodka into two of the nine shot glasses.
 
Interior - 𝓜𝓪𝓰𝓷𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽

Between the pauses of Remys' exposition, a none-too quiet addition found its way inside to the sound of metal on hardwood clacks as Magnificent sashayed their way into the room half like they owned the place. At an average height the thick-legged cyborg might not have stood out much for their clearly sensual bodysuit over an androgynous but feminine-leaning form and face and bright holographic glowing hard light projected hair that reflected dazzlingly off the polished floor.

Maggie paused halfway to look slightly aloof of the group as harpy eyes peered somehow longingly and playfully at everyone present if only to loitered on the most adorable figures in the form of a strange furry creature that was likely an offshoot of some kind of adorable bat with blonde hair and a very fluffy tail.

And a cute pupper that made her pout her lips.

Assured that They were still the most alluring thing on the planet to every gender, species, and bacteria Maggie half started as they found the one they were looking for only to raise a limp hand and give a jaunty wave.

"Hellooo, Remmy-bell~" They cooed like an old friend with a foreign accent tinged closer to some of the newly arrived kuvexian interests in the sector, Sultry effeminate voice longing and whistful as Magnificient strode through the crowd and into Remmy's personal space only to interrupt her shot pouring to try to clasp the woman's hands in her own.

"Sooo Sooory we're late, Remmy-bell." Their overcoat swayed to enunciate Maggie's overconfident and very forward posture as their hair seemed to constantly blow in a non-existent breeze that was actually somewhat blinding enough at such close range to cause sunspots in the vision if the unnatural and bug-like lidless black unblinking eyes with their many glowing cybernetic red pupils didnt cause one to look away from the least human aspect of the genderless cyborg in the very tight bodysuit and little else but a overcoat with the clear bulge of a large weapon underneath.

"We got lost." Maggie explained with a tone that seemed more mischievous than inconvenienced as she pouted at her newest employer and muse.
 
Veilfire Tactical, Interior

Vana clicked her tongue twice. Pork got to his feet and followed his mistress inside. Vana did a visual scan of the place. There was definitely a lot more to the place than met the eye. Not surprising and honestly a good sign that Remy was indeed a woman with connections and would be able to pay. Vana eyed the others in the store. Most of the others didn't look that impressive... or trustworthy for that matter. A Cat and a Snake? This was Nep, not Yam. Two that looked way more machine than man and a fox. What the hell was she getting herself into? It looked more like an act for the circus. But, as Vana knew all too well, appearances could be deceiving.

Text began scrolling across her glasses. Remy had been speaking while she was sizing up the others in the room. She read the text then looked over to where Remy stood with the shot glasses. "As long as I don't get in trouble with the law, and it's not against my clan... I'm in." Vana said, again far louder than needed to be.
 
Mako entered the building along with the rest of Belmont’s motley crew of flamboyant weirdos. A hungry grin crossed her face at the sight of the various weapons and armor. The sound of glasses being placed on the table drew her attention from a beautiful pair of ivory handled pistols.

Bending forward to brace her elbows on the table, Mako said, “What’s the law ever done for us, eh Ginger? Plus, with enough money, the law can be what you make it.” With another fanged grin, she put a hand out for a shot glass. “I’m in.”
 
Magnificent turned their pristine gaze slightly over their shoulders only briefly to give a soulless gaze to the newcomers before throwing all their woes once again.

"You promised there would be boys here, Bell. There's nothing wrong with a delicate flower like yourself but you prommmised."

Frankly, they weren't entirely sure. The gecko had the parts but with the cold-blooded for all they knew it was venom sacks, plus they didnt like the rough feeling of scales and rather preferred soft skin to pinch. One of them had a tattoo marring their perfectly 5/10 face bringing it down to a 3/10.

Oh, and the newest interruption was even one of those troublesome knife-eared things the Yamatai's used for soldiers. Those ones looked half like children and tried to be taken seriously at the same time when looking barely out of puberty; No thank you sir! Even the great companies Maggie served in didn't allow children like that to serve, unlike this female-dominated sector.

Plus they didn't even look like cats...

"You said you would help us climatize to this savage barbarian land. You arent being a very good host, Bell."
Maggie Tsked, The sound coming out with a machine tinge.
 
"Long as it doesn't involve us dealing in slaves, and the money is good, I'm in." Sanssinia said, watching her fellow mercenaries with a neutral but slightly disapproving face. The Separa'Shan was used to being unusual, and if it bothered her, she brought out a knife and solved the problem as directly as possible. A bone colored knife appeared in her hand and she twirled it as she waited.
 
Calico was spaced out when Remy was pouring the drinks, and missed the chance to physically read the bottle- Her vision was in IR at the time, and you could hear the nodes inside their mechanical headband clunk and clatter like an ancient cassette player. By the time it got back around the visual spectrum, it would have been socially embarrassing to ask, so she just grasped at a glass carefully, a feat impressive for their metallic claw-like hands.

"T'e hospitality is much appreciated, me' hostess.~" A small curtsey and a nod, downing the liquid and finding out it was vodka. It tasted... nostalgic? Like some kind of resetting process, she grabbed those ginger pigtails to confirm exactly how drunk it made them. "I'll be rightly pleased t'e hear y'all explanation of all this... Seems ye gotta team'a outta-towners from all over yonder, makes me think you gotta bigger plan than most? Or, at least, y'all don't trust the local help no more..."

Calico... really hoped this wasn't a set up. That kind of happened a lot with immigrants.

What kind of paperwork did you even need to be a reptile? Like a snake lady with a knife?

Brain gone again. Into the air. She thought about petting the fox. She thought about buying some dresses.

She thought about that word again, -nostalgia-, and how most of the boom-pipes in this store felt a little quaint to her... all except...

A digital consciousness floating, magnetic sensors buzzing, her inside gaze drifted inside the clothes of that other cyborg, the holo-haired girlish adjective with the big hips.

<"...Feels an x-ray projector, a right skeletonizer, is it?..."> Calico's voice was just as dorky in a digital format. <"...Golly gosh you don' seem in yourself like a spacer, though?...">
 
A few second pause while Vana read the transcription running across her glasses. Her eyes darted over towards Mako. "Life tends to be easier if you stay on the Law's good side." Vana all but yelled. "One less thing to worry about."

Vana tried to follow along with who was speaking but it wasn't always easy. She'd have to try and mess with the settings and get them to give her an arrow pointing to the speaker or something. She pushed the glasses down on her nose so she could look over them and just try and pick up what was being said by lip reading. She had been getting pretty good at it. Although her eyes got distracted by the blade the snake had pulled out. Like most of her clan, she had a fascination with blades.
 
Victoria tapped a pen on the side of her thumb for the time it took to size everyone up. There were two machine-people at a minimum, a.... Snake? A techie, and maybe a couple others. Unless that long, scaly body could do some heavy lifting, it seemed that Victoria herself was likely to end up providing some of the muscle around here. The prosthetic appendages she was used to were functional at best, but not really capable of anything the original limb was unable to do. These flashier, alien models...

She found herself getting distracted with Calico's and Maggie's synthetic bits, trying to figure out what they might be capable of, but was unfortunately blinded by thelatter's special effects and deafened by the loud one, Vana's, incessant yelling. Ears flattening downwards, a shake of the tail and muttering of unintelligible noises in her native tongue expressed some sort of distaste at the attitude. These didn't seem like the types to know the underhand of a good deal, if they knew one at all - but they at least seemed capable enough to not run the vessel aground once they were given orders.

"It seems there's things unknown about the culture. My primers are poor, indeed." In spite of this, she knew Remy's plan here - alcohol was a universal lubricant, second only to wealth itself in effectiveness. With her contract signed and copied, and the arrangements already made, the woman-and-a-half (by volume) was able to concentrate more on the reactions of those present - it wouldn't surprise her if one or more of them were also working for a corporation like she was, and competition in the market is always roughest before startup.
 
Remy did made her best effort to not squirm too much in Maggie's quite-surprising grasp, gripping the neck of that vodka bottle a little tighter as she took it all in, the sheer wall of noise everyone was making... maybe this was a mistake~

No, an oversight and nothing more, if everyone was talking then there wasn't any time for them to be plotting to screw her over. Surely?

"You're free to spend your cut on as many boys as your heart desires, Magnificent... but you weren't the only person who had some trouble finding the right address, that's something I need to look into~" the greenette mused, slowly wrenching her hands free from the genderless cyborg's grip with a surprising bit of strength. Tightly wound knots of muscle briefly making themselves known on the small patch of skin not covered by her gloves or sleeves, making quick work of pouring out the remaining shots now that everyone had confirmed they were here to get rich.

Remy re-lidded the bottle and put it behind the counter with a small huff, regarding the motley crew once more as she continued following up on their their little questions and comments.

"I'm no paragon, Ms. Sassina, most the laws passed nowadays just serve to further the agendas of people in power," the Belmont lass continued as she parted out the remaining shot glasses to each of the bodies-for-hire.

"That said, I'm only a monster when someone gives me a reason to be, and even then my morals remain in the lighter shades of grey, I don't get myself involved with slavery of any sort - people at least deserve the right to find their own fortunes or fuck up by their own hand in the process," Remy nodded, finishing her little monologue by downing her own shot and sighing, taking a few steps over to her office and parking her megacity-block-sized rear against a bench.

"There's a reason for me gathering a bunch of strangers and outsiders I have no prior affiliation with, we're digging up an old and long-forgotten bounty against a corporate figure," the young woman paused again, debating whether she actually wanted to keep this ball rolling or if she should wash her hands of the whole thing and pay these kind strangers to crawl back to whatever holes they'd peeked out from.


The latter seemed really appealing.


"We're killing or capturing Zach Cahill from NAM's board of directors, the fixer I got in contact with had some very strict guidelines for the whole thing... the bugger has been causing all sorts of trouble with that loose-lipped mouth of his and needs to be taken out of the picture. Regardless of their reasons he's currently laying low in a safehouse with a security detail, believes he's there under some kind of probationary agreement, so the stage has been set for us to an extent."

Remy let the situation sink in a bit, unclipping the sling of her weapon and sitting the shotgun down with a weighty thud, gloved digits rapping against the black-painted surface of the compact death-dealer.

"Security detail's roster is conveniently made up from a bunch of degenerates that also need to be taken out of the equation, I normally don't deal with these corporate coups and crap but the pay is so damn good that I'm willing to spot you lot some gear if you need it... within reason of course. I need to hash out further details but I've got the beginnings of a plan, hope none of you thought this was going to be an easy job."

She chuckled at the end of that, trying to keep things as light as they could be, though her words carried an unspoken threat that if any of you back out after hearing that then I'm leaving you in a very deep and very dark hole until it's all over.
 
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"He hasn't left since he got put there a week ago, guards occasionally patrol the outer perimeter or collect food deliveries but I don't know much beyond that, they're holled up in a fairly nondescript apartment stack a few blocks from here, walls have been lined with some kind of shielding so I'm betting on Magnificient and Calico's expertise to find us a workaround," Remy shot back, fiddling with her collar momentarily.

"Seems to be some kind of fairly high-end laser comms chain leading out of the building, probably only a few milimeters of wiggle room, but I'm sure they'll figure out some way to let us poke our heads in... I doubt the floor plan still matches what schematics I've been able to dig up."
 
"How many guards? How certain are we that he doesn't have a bolthole we don't know about, perhaps into another apartment? What sort of eyes do they have on the outside? I think a standard breach and clear should be our strategy, with a backstop in case he decides to run." The Separa'Shan said, examining what they could know about their target.
 
“Yeah, about his guards,” Mako threw in, after downing her shot. “You said they’re a bunch of assholes with prices on their heads, right? I’m assuming they’re not corpo types. Gang muscle? If so, what kinda heat are they packing?” She paused and considered before asking, “And is this the kinda op where we get in trouble for waking up the neighbors?”
 
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