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RP The Black Pact

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Ethereal

Banned Member
RP Date
YE 40
RP Location
Reservoir System
Reservoir system/Vice/ M.E.C.H.A. apartments

Lazarus sat in his black T-shirt and jeans on the couch, his armor reinforced boots kicked up on the coffee table. Watching the video screen again. Giving a quick glance around the Spartan apartment, there were still a few bullet holes he hadn't patched yet. Man that Weiss was one hell of a woman, too bad she worked for those Psychopomp assholes.

He looked over his lockers and pile of looted gear, and wondered if he should keep them closer to the couch.

Without as much warning as Yamatai gave to the Spacers, Lazarus' entertainment system suddenly emitted a buzzing, squeaking noise. Its colours flared and guttered for a moment, breaking from their uniform pattern into scattered blotches of colour on the dead black background.

A mere second of anarchy ensued until the image realigned itself. A countdown splashed across the screen, counting down from 5 gradually with a pixelated visual.

Lazarus raised an eyebrow at this, feeling that this obviously wasn't normal, "Ugh, by the void. What now?"

After a moment, the pattern fluttered once more, revealing the face of a gruff Elysian, their pigeonlike wings just visible in the background.

"Am I correct in assuming that you are Lazarus?" The question was simple, monotone and curtly professional. The screen-face awaited a response, deep brown eyes looking directly at Laz.

"By the void, is it too much to ask for a damn night of peace and quiet night. What do you want?", Lazarus said giving a supreme exasperated sigh of annoyance.

"Apologies for contacting you in such a way, it seems you're a hard man to find." The toneless voice continued, "I represent a company interested in your services. Though I'm sure you can guess our name currently this is off the books. In due course, perhaps it can be official."

“What exactly does “services” imply though? Normal most people want me dead for good reason, so forgive my caution when someone doesn't.”, Lazarus said with a raised eyebrow, his interest peeked.

The only reaction to this information was for the pale man to blink slowly, over the course of perhaps a second. “Your DNA, Mister Lazarus. Your reputation as a killer precedes you and we would like to see what makes you tick.”

Lazarus didn't like how that was phrased, “Well, you make it sound like you want to dissect me. If that's the case, we have a very big conflict of interest. As for the DNA, I can imagine a few uses for such a request.” He got up with a quiet sigh and made his way to the apartment's kitchenette, and fixed himself a glass of bourbon, never leaving view of the vid screen.

The ominous face continued despite Lazarus’ activity, unperturbed by his movement. “Nothing fatal or altering, don’t worry. We’re prepared to pay handsomely for the research opportunity.”

“You still haven't answered what exactly you need my DNA for. I would like to know just what I'm being used for, and if I can get involved.”, Lazarus replied before retaking his seat and sipping his bourbon.

“We would like to make more of you, Lazarus. Part of a project our Founder is interested in pursuing, of which you can potentially be a part. Perhaps even an intricate part, depending on how well you can keep a secret.” The flicking of paper could be heard from the other end of the line, the man glancing down to read something as he finished.

Lazarus actually paused as the purpose for this transaction was stated. “You realize my job was making sure secrets were kept right? But, anyways, I agree. So where am I going, what am I bringing, and who should I be expecting?”, Lazarus asked casually, but quickly. He was eager to see how this played out.

A knowing smile spread across the television man’s chalky face as Lazarus agreed, the sound of paper flicking slowing as he finished reading whatever information he was receiving. “Excellent, we’re glad to hear that. I think you may like what we have in mind..” His eyes seemed to focus to something off screen, nodding as if with confirmation. “Pack whatever you need for a long stay that can’t be replaced. Don’t worry about supplies. One of our agents will meet you at our branch on Vice, from there they’ll disclose more. Go as soon as you are ready.”

Lazarus finished his drink with a grin, “Understood.”

He got up not waiting for the disconnect before grabbing his usual gear, and loading a duffle full of clothes and extra ammo. Having everything he wanted to carry, Lazarus headed out the door. Taking the elevator and taking a car, it wasn't hard to find the IIS Vice branch HQ. A signal was sent to his mech to put it on standby, so it was ready to move when it needed to be loaded on whatever transport he would be taken on. He stepped into the well decorated lobby and stepped briskly up to the receptionist desk.

“I'm here for a meeting, I'm expected.”, He said simply.

The receptionist was a severe looking woman, likely a salarywoman in her mid thirties. Her hair was scraped back into a tight topknot, half-moon spectacles perched upon her nose with a metal chain dangling from them behind her neck. “Hmm, I know.” She said flatly, eyes sliding across Lazarus’ form before inspecting his face. After a moment, she’d reach under the desk and press something while pointing to a nearby lift.

“Go all the way down, the gentlemen you’re looking for will meet you there.”

Lazarus raised an eyebrow before making his way to the lift, one last look back before the doors closed. The music was boring as hell and generic. The lift dinged as it hit it's destined floor. Lazarus was tense and ready as the doors slid open.

The elevator dinged, the floor number flashing up for a moment on the simple digital display to one side of the lift. In bleak cyan lettering: “B23”, surely there couldn’t be 23 floors beneath the unassuming building above?

Surely enough, Lazarus was greeted with a tremendous sight, the entire floor seemed to be open-plan, with rooms partitioned by nought but netting every now and again. The majority of people milling around about their business were sat in meetings in the open or at desks which allowed near total visibility of the floor. The floor itself was, well.. Cavernous. While the height of the level was perhaps 3 or 4 meters, the edges of the humongous room were several hundreds of meters apart.

It was quite the sight, however it seemed very few of the personnel were clad in IIS’s trademark colour-coded jumpsuits. Many were sporting sidearms on their hips or thighs, with Lazarus making his way inside a stark white meeting table was positioned only a short distance away, several older men seated who looked expectantly at the newcomer. There was one empty seat.

Lazarus still had a raised eyebrow, even as he stepped forward setting his bag behind the chair and taking a seat.

“Quite the operation you're running. So down to business.”, He said simply waiting for these strangers to speak.

“Indeed.” The man sitting directly opposite Lazarus began, he had a sickly composure as if he hadn’t seen daylight in quite some time. “I’ll be frank, Mister Lazarus, if I may call you that. We wish to create a force, a great force.” A number of slight nods and shared glances passed around the table.

“We have some clients greatly interested in this venture and.. We’d like to use you as a base template for this.. Call it an army of sorts.”

“So you want to make a legion. I wouldn't call it a great force, but more of a scourge. One of me is a nightmare, an army...well that's an apocalypse. You can leash them, alter their minds, rig them with a kill switch, but they will just be like rabid feral dogs. You're going to need me even after their made to direct and focus that hate and bloodlust effectively. So I agree to this, but I want to be a part of this.”, Lazarus said in a very serious tone as he explained this. He was all too aware of what he was capable of, no way was he letting a army of knock offs ruining his reputation by being wild animals. No he would turn this into a epic nightmare, one that would make him a legendary monster. One that would leave people fearing the dark for years to come.

A few glances went around the table of older men, some more promising than others. Some sort of unspoken agreement passed between them after a moment. “Very well, Mister Lazarus. Have it your way.” The man opposite him nodded, tapping the table with the tip of his index finger. “Know this - we’ve been watching you for a long time. You may be a killer but you hold by a code. A blood code if you will.” His eyes seemed as serious as Lazarus’, gauging his reaction as if he was a specimen - a specimen he had read all about. “Know that this will not be an easy task and if you cross us, every merc in the galaxy will be braying for your head.” He laced his fingers cooly, it wasn’t a threat, rather a reminder to hold by his code. “Stay with us, those mercs and everyone else in the galaxy will quake at the sight of you.”

“That last sentence was enough motivation, and so I believe we have a perfect understanding. I work for you and let you make an army of me, and in return I lead this force for you to keep them focus and am compensated for services rendered. Not much, just enough to keep fed and stocked. I do have one request though.” Lazarus recapped in an almost eager manner. His jubilation was barely contained, as he thought of what horrors he would bring upon who ever he posted against by this group. His request however would shed his last tie to Psychopomp to his immediate person.

"And what is this request, Mister Lazarus?" The lead man gestured openly with one hand, while the others muttered quietly about what was unfolding.

"The mech I'm currently using is outdated and inadequate, I would like to request an XM1 to replace it. I already have a contact by which to acquire through, just the sale needs to be made," Lazarus asked, "What you do with the old model is up to you. If you don't wish to deal with it, I will simply scrap it."

There seemed to be barely any discussion on this point, one of the men simply nodded to their de facto leader, at which point the man swept his gaze back to Lazarus. "Done. We have no need for the old model. I would say we had the ability to acquire it ourselves but as it is the request would stand out to other elements of the company. Trade with 188604 as a whole is at an all time low, until they figure something out."

It seemed the other men were slipping the sheets and devices they had before them into various pockets as if readying to go somewhere. "Very well then, Mister Lazarus. Be ready when we call on you."

 
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