ON> (Funky City)
The afternoon sun beat down directly overhead in Funky City, the temperature reaching uncomfortably hot degrees. The smog that seemed to marry with the city's sky made it like an oven on the streets. People scurried quickly through the streets, not wanting to spend any more time than necessary outside. It was here that the soldiers were starting their new mission. They had 2000 KS to their names and an order to go to the 72nd street warehouse to meet up with their contact, Diesel, sometime that afternoon.
Jet was up early and had already left the building, braving the uncomfortable heat while he went out to go take a look around the clothing outlets. "Let's see...." he said as he looked.
Sparks frowned at the heat as he stepped outside. He raised his hand for a taxi. Hope it has climate control. He climbed into the first one that stopped and told the driver to take him to the shopping district. The taxi drove him quickly to the shopping district, charging the man 10 KS.
Wazu had left early, getting up around 6am before the sun had risen to go out and about. He had already finished shopping for clothing, purchasing items such as one of the wide brimmed hats that were seemingly so popular on this planet as well as a new black tank top and black pants. This was covered by a thin white shirt which covered up the majority of his skin which was showing a light tan. He seemed to take the heat in stride as if it was an old friend.
He had left his taxi a few blocks from the bar and proceeded the rest of the way on foot,
preferring to stay outside near the entrance in the heat than to go inside and face the icy climate control systems of the structure.
Sparks gladly paid. He'd rather pay ten KS than run the risk of cutpurses. He shoved his hands into his pockets and set off down an alley. Twenty minutes and 50 KS later, he emerged back onto the street wearing a shabby trench coat and a red bandanna covering his head.
It was hot, but he would get used to it after being off-world. He set off for a tech shop, hand on his money card in his pocket.
Jet had set out and paid the 10 KS for a taxi to the shopping district as well. He got out and began to shop around a little and eventually settled on a place and headed inside. After parting with 115 KS, a white trench coat with extra room on the inside for his guns to stay hidden, a black shirt under that, long pants and his boots with a pair of the Emrys-made gloves and a pair of sunglasses decked his figure. Afterward, he headed for the named tavern they'd agreed upon earlier. Sparks ducked into the tech shop and quickly selected a 300 KS mid-range laptop. He didn't want to be too conspicuous. He walked quickly next door and purchased a "Little Killer" pistol and two battery packs for 900 KS total. After that, he quickly made his way to the tavern.
The bar was fairly packed for this time of the day, mainly because of the excessive heat outside. It was like any bar on Nepleslia that's packed: festive and rowdy. Drinks flew faster than birds through the area as people took the heat as a grand reason to get plastered.
Jet made his way over to Wazu. "Nice hat," he said, smirking at the outrageousness of how Wazu looked. "You look like a business man. But I suppose that works," he said in a quiet tone. "Has anyone else shown up yet?"
"I haven't seen anyone else yet," Wazu said as he continued to lean against the wall from his spot near the tables outside which were mostly empty due to the near visible heat, "So that makes you the first."
Roger William joined the group shortly, bearing his equipment. He remained quiet for the most part and blended in well with the background in his street clothing.
"Pretty much," he said. "I'm not sure what's worse, this heat or the smell inside." Jet said with a sigh, leaning on the wall as well with his arms crossed. "I hope you got a sidearm in all that just in case." he said lowly again as he looked around. "And Mr. William joins us. Did you get what you needed?"
Sparks emerged from the crowd clutching his laptop, already tapping into the wireless network and retrieving his hacking programs. He stopped in front of the bar, muttering under his breath, "I don't think we should go inside. It looks kinda rowdy." He patted the right of his chest, noting the small pocket of his shabby green trench. "Sidearm."
"Yes, sir," came the reply from the private.
It was Wazu's turn to chuckle, "Actually, this is the first time I've felt hot in a long while." Wazu looked over the new arrivals and gave them a quick visual once over. "Don't talk like you are fresh from boot camp; you'll get us in trouble."
"He has a point." The master sergeant nodded in agreement. His sunglassed eyes swept over to Sparks and looked him over. "It's probably not a good idea, I agree, but we should find this place we're to meet these other guys." he said as he looked around the crowd and buildings.
"I'm ready to go right now," Wazu said.
Sparks nodded. "Yes, sir." He regarded Jet next. "It was a warehouse or somethin'." He added an urban drawl to his voice, hoping to blend in better.
"Let's go, then. If I remember correctly...." he closed his eyes and thought for a moment to the layout of Funky City. "It shouldn't be that far from here; there's a section of the city nearby that the merchants have warehouses to store their wares in and there should be a few abandoned ones." He said.
"What I meant is to drop the basic training vernacular. I'm not up to date on the speech patterns of the natives but I'm sure 'sir' isn't part of it unless you are in the military." Wazu said, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing them just above his waist.
The group moved out toward the 72nd street warehouses. The district was organized like dominoes: exact distances and exact lengths for every building. It was like that for the sole purpose of saving space, but it gave the area a slightly claustrophobic feel.
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The afternoon sun beat down directly overhead in Funky City, the temperature reaching uncomfortably hot degrees. The smog that seemed to marry with the city's sky made it like an oven on the streets. People scurried quickly through the streets, not wanting to spend any more time than necessary outside. It was here that the soldiers were starting their new mission. They had 2000 KS to their names and an order to go to the 72nd street warehouse to meet up with their contact, Diesel, sometime that afternoon.
Jet was up early and had already left the building, braving the uncomfortable heat while he went out to go take a look around the clothing outlets. "Let's see...." he said as he looked.
Sparks frowned at the heat as he stepped outside. He raised his hand for a taxi. Hope it has climate control. He climbed into the first one that stopped and told the driver to take him to the shopping district. The taxi drove him quickly to the shopping district, charging the man 10 KS.
Wazu had left early, getting up around 6am before the sun had risen to go out and about. He had already finished shopping for clothing, purchasing items such as one of the wide brimmed hats that were seemingly so popular on this planet as well as a new black tank top and black pants. This was covered by a thin white shirt which covered up the majority of his skin which was showing a light tan. He seemed to take the heat in stride as if it was an old friend.
He had left his taxi a few blocks from the bar and proceeded the rest of the way on foot,
preferring to stay outside near the entrance in the heat than to go inside and face the icy climate control systems of the structure.
Sparks gladly paid. He'd rather pay ten KS than run the risk of cutpurses. He shoved his hands into his pockets and set off down an alley. Twenty minutes and 50 KS later, he emerged back onto the street wearing a shabby trench coat and a red bandanna covering his head.
It was hot, but he would get used to it after being off-world. He set off for a tech shop, hand on his money card in his pocket.
Jet had set out and paid the 10 KS for a taxi to the shopping district as well. He got out and began to shop around a little and eventually settled on a place and headed inside. After parting with 115 KS, a white trench coat with extra room on the inside for his guns to stay hidden, a black shirt under that, long pants and his boots with a pair of the Emrys-made gloves and a pair of sunglasses decked his figure. Afterward, he headed for the named tavern they'd agreed upon earlier. Sparks ducked into the tech shop and quickly selected a 300 KS mid-range laptop. He didn't want to be too conspicuous. He walked quickly next door and purchased a "Little Killer" pistol and two battery packs for 900 KS total. After that, he quickly made his way to the tavern.
The bar was fairly packed for this time of the day, mainly because of the excessive heat outside. It was like any bar on Nepleslia that's packed: festive and rowdy. Drinks flew faster than birds through the area as people took the heat as a grand reason to get plastered.
Jet made his way over to Wazu. "Nice hat," he said, smirking at the outrageousness of how Wazu looked. "You look like a business man. But I suppose that works," he said in a quiet tone. "Has anyone else shown up yet?"
"I haven't seen anyone else yet," Wazu said as he continued to lean against the wall from his spot near the tables outside which were mostly empty due to the near visible heat, "So that makes you the first."
Roger William joined the group shortly, bearing his equipment. He remained quiet for the most part and blended in well with the background in his street clothing.
"Pretty much," he said. "I'm not sure what's worse, this heat or the smell inside." Jet said with a sigh, leaning on the wall as well with his arms crossed. "I hope you got a sidearm in all that just in case." he said lowly again as he looked around. "And Mr. William joins us. Did you get what you needed?"
Sparks emerged from the crowd clutching his laptop, already tapping into the wireless network and retrieving his hacking programs. He stopped in front of the bar, muttering under his breath, "I don't think we should go inside. It looks kinda rowdy." He patted the right of his chest, noting the small pocket of his shabby green trench. "Sidearm."
"Yes, sir," came the reply from the private.
It was Wazu's turn to chuckle, "Actually, this is the first time I've felt hot in a long while." Wazu looked over the new arrivals and gave them a quick visual once over. "Don't talk like you are fresh from boot camp; you'll get us in trouble."
"He has a point." The master sergeant nodded in agreement. His sunglassed eyes swept over to Sparks and looked him over. "It's probably not a good idea, I agree, but we should find this place we're to meet these other guys." he said as he looked around the crowd and buildings.
"I'm ready to go right now," Wazu said.
Sparks nodded. "Yes, sir." He regarded Jet next. "It was a warehouse or somethin'." He added an urban drawl to his voice, hoping to blend in better.
"Let's go, then. If I remember correctly...." he closed his eyes and thought for a moment to the layout of Funky City. "It shouldn't be that far from here; there's a section of the city nearby that the merchants have warehouses to store their wares in and there should be a few abandoned ones." He said.
"What I meant is to drop the basic training vernacular. I'm not up to date on the speech patterns of the natives but I'm sure 'sir' isn't part of it unless you are in the military." Wazu said, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing them just above his waist.
The group moved out toward the 72nd street warehouses. The district was organized like dominoes: exact distances and exact lengths for every building. It was like that for the sole purpose of saving space, but it gave the area a slightly claustrophobic feel.
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