London 2056 - A CyberPunk RP [Game thread - Started]

[Generic NPC 22]

London 2056 | Irina's Flat​

The room had been quiet for sometime except for the occasional catchphrase or two coming from an on screen pony while Karine pondered what, if anything, she had to do in regards to the issues that her neighbor had been having. Irina, on the other hand was wrecked and was in the process of nursing her third or fourth home brewed beer. While the beer bottle was in her right hand, her left hand was outstretched, her fingers wrapped around the grip of a pistol, attempting to hold it steady. Inhaling, holding her breathe, exhaling, inhaling, holding her breathe, exhaling. She pulled the trigger on the pistol on the digital rendition of Rainbow Dash exploded into a conflagration of sparkles. The taller than normal Cat Eared VidCaster had been attempting to improve her marksmanship whilst using her left hand and short of putting bullet holes in the wall, she found that it was the best way... and more satisfying as well.

A sudden movement from Charles made her pull the trigger, this time sending a digital stray shot through one of the distant castle's windows. It appeared that her visitor from the street had awoken from his slumber and the first thing he did was try to get the hell out of dodge, not that she blamed him, Karine could look rather intimidating.

"Whoa, slow down there Charles. You hit your head pretty bad when you passed out in my kitchen. One moment you were talking and the next, thud." Irina informed him as she tried to keep him from moving.

"All I seem ta be doin' is givin' ya more trouble, and ya look tha kinda person that's got 'er hands full. So, I think it's best if I were goin'." Came the heavily accented and heavily slurred words as the man tried to get out of the bed... and failed, "Or not. Shite."

"Not a worry. You're more than welcome to crash here." The young single mother said comfortingly,"At least until you're feeling better. No offense, but you don't look like you're doing too well."

Once again, the pot was describing the kettle without introducing him to the pan.

"Oh. Sorry, where are my manners. Charles, this is Karine. She's my next door neighbor... [small]and practically a sister to me[/small]. You don't have to worry about her. She's... um... cool." The woman said in a not-too-reassuring-but-was-trying-her-damn-hardest-to-be-reassuring sort of tone.

"Maybe you can tell her what's going on with you. I mean it looks like you're having problems seeing but... well... from what I can tell, you've got augmentations applied to your eyes. Visual augs going back and screwing up your vision isn't exactly a selling point."

 

[FalloutJack]

"You really think so? Even after I knocked him out?"

"Let me put this another way: I would rather not watch my neighbor self-destruct because a homicidal ex-husband has her daughter."

In short, she was likely to poke into matters herself and convince a judge to re-evaluate the case, based on her own testimony. Karine set her eyes to analyze people according to the details given to her by Irina. If somebody like that crosssed Asagi's path, the HUD would point it out to her. It was at that point tha Charles woke up...with distorted vision. Considering he was supposedly augmented - from what she was hearing, this was bad. After introductions were made between her and the one-handed man, Asagi leaned over and looked closely at him.

"Maybe you can tell her what's going on with you. I mean it looks like you're having problems seeing but... well... from what I can tell, you've got augmentations applied to your eyes. Visual augs going back and screwing up your vision isn't exactly a selling point."

"How long has this been going on? What were you doing at the time it started? Any injuries close to the occasion?

Yyyup, she was trying to get the full picture.

 

[Neuromancer]

"Not a worry. You're more than welcome to crash here." The young I'm-short-enough-to-be-mistaken-for-a-minor hostess said in a manner that showed she cared, "At least until you're feeling better. No offense, but you don't look like you're doing too well."

Truth be told, he really wasn't doing too well. In the morning he had walked off another one of his potential suicide attempts. They weren't as frequent as they were in the beginning, but that was mostly because Charles had found another, more indirect way of killing himself: Drinking. The fact that it helped him cope with the virus violating his brain helped, but the road Charles had chosen to take was one self-destruction and he knew it, despite never acknowledging it. He had, for all intents and purposes, given up.

And one could hardly blame him, now, could they? In his previous life he had partaken in illegal acts that, were he to confess about them, he was certain to face a death sentence. Not that capital punishment had been reinstated (though he would have to look it up if it had, he wasn't sure), but if he were to admit the most notorious of his hacking acts, people from both corps and the government would very much want him dead.

Which was why it was problematic that Irina was so interested in his well-being. Especially considering the presence of the other one, the one that looked like a peeler.

"Oh. Sorry, where are my manners. Charles, this is Karine. She's my next door neighbor... You don't have to worry about her. She's... um... cool."

Charles blinked once in acknowledgement.

"Maybe you can tell her what's going on with you. I mean it looks like you're having problems seeing but... well... from what I can tell, you've got augmentations applied to your eyes. Visual augs going back and screwing up your vision isn't exactly a selling point."

Before Charles had so much a moment to retort, Karine showered him with questions.

"How long has this been going on? What were you doing at the time it started? Any injuries close to the occasion?

Straight to the case, no room for formal introductions... definately a copper.

A thought crossed his head: Maybe if he told the truth, maybe this Karine really would help him. Maybe she'd use her contacts to find a way to deal with the virus, and maybe she'd get him protection from CyCorp definately coming for his arse once they inevitably heard he were alive.

Right. And maybe then I'll use the old metro and blow up the parliament.

"It's... it's nothin'. The doc that did the surrgery was sloppy with the nerve attachments and he kinda ruined them, so sometimes me vision gets kinda distorted, sometimes. Which, considering I did the procedure because I was legally blind anyway is kind of an improvement, eh?" he tried to make the last part sound cheerful, but he wasn't sure worked well.

"Anywayyy, I naturally sued the doc and won, but considerin' the amount o' money liars take these days most of me compensation was mostly spent coverin' their 'xpenses. Naturally, no job wanted a guy with faulty augs, so I hadda sell me aug'ed arm ta make enough money ta pass awhile. So... here I am, jus' yer regular run-o-tha-mill bum."

He had used that story a couple of times in the past. Mentioning the destroyed nerves meant that nothing could really be done to fix his eyesight. Hopefully Irina and Karine weren't generous enough to offer him a new arm replacement.

 

[Texas Joker 52]

~ Karl Adler ~​

The Constable stepped into the pub with a certain swagger and attitude that Karl couldn't help but admire. She gave each of the other patrons a steely glare before making her way to the booth that he had picked out, wincing slightly when she sat, glancing between her and the pint that he had set out for her.

"You seriously drink that piss? Not exactly the drink of a 'cultured' man. Or was getting some whiskey on the rocks too much?"

"And give the impression that I'm too good for a quaint little pub like this? Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, I do like a good lager every now and then." he said with a pleasant smile before pushing his empty glass away.

"If you want info on the hotel case, I'll need more than a free drink."

He quirked a brow at that before leaning forward and folding his hands onto the table. Now she was speaking his language: Business.

"Well I was hoping you'd tell me who the victims were, how they died and why. I figured driving a fast, expensive car would be good incentive, but beyond that, you'll have to give me an offer of what you want." he told her, before adding, "Whatever you want from the bar is, of course, my treat, that's a given."

Then he simply leaned back and regarded her with a placid, pleasant expression as he waited for her terms.

 

[Legion]

[hr]

The sirens approached Liam Vaughn's garage at a steady pace. There could be no doubt about it now, this was their destination. The two cars pulled up just outside and an officer got out of each, they communicated briefly before briskly walking up to the main door and knocking on it several times. "Mr Vaughn are you in there?" one of the officers asked, "Mr Vaughn if you are in there please respond now!"

[hr]

Selenes' pursuers followed her relentlessly through the rain. There was a cold efficiency to their movements as they focused on their target. The pursuit lasted longer than it normally would have, largely thanks to Selenes physical strength and stamina. She wasn't augmented but she was in good shape thanks to her training and exercise. The strangest part about it all was that they didn't seem to care about being seen. It may have been very early in the morning and rainy, but cameras were everywhere, so they must surely have been picked up on some already. Although of course with the recent high profile murders the police were spread thin enough already, so they were unlikely to be as diligently focusing on surveillance as they normally were.

Unfortunately for her, the trio of armed men augmented with combat specific enhancements had no serious problem catching up before any intervention by the police could be made. Especially due to their superior vision because of their modified eyes. They moved in formation encircling the lone woman and raised their weapons once more.

[hr]

The contents of Abigails' computer that could be easily accessed were not especially exciting. Just because she worked for a MegaCorporation didn't mean she was deep in the more sinister aspects after all. For all intents and purposes she seemed to live a normal, peaceful life and like many, was in the Corp because of family rather than any other particular reason.

Her computer files showed the kind of things one might normally expect for a woman in her early thirties. She was semi-regularly on social media, she did most of her shopping online (most people did nowadays) and most of that shopping was for clothing and shoes. She had a digital calender that showed her appointments and such. She really was just a normal person; no obvious enemies, no suspicious acquaintances and no obvious reasons for why somebody might want her dead. There was also no sign of her having known Ryan Grey before the both of them were murdered.

There was only one thing that was unusual, and it was not something most people would have been able to find. In fact it was almost certain that Abigail was not aware of it herself. Her computer was being monitored. The observer was neither CyCorp nor the H.A Dynasty, nor was it the Law or even Bee. This somebody or something entirely different.

[hr]

Doctor Wolf was left alone for some time, presumably on command. They didn't need to check up on him in the general sense after all, seeing as he was monitored closely via CCTV at all times. Wolf was anything but predictable, so he wasn't going to be left completely to himself, but at the same time he made a lot of the staff uneasy so they were no doubt glad they didn't have to check up on him in person.

The man who had just recently spoken to Wolf had come to a decision. He was going to be move Wolf to a laboratory in a private location. The kind where the staff lived on-site and where he could work with much tighter security around him. The idea of letting him out alone had clearly caused more problems than it was worth; the police were still combing over his flat at this very moment after all. He was also too valuable to CyCorp to simply remove. He may be unstable and dangerous, but he was also no doubt a genius, one who had come up with many important advancements that helped the corporation.

One had to weigh up the pros and cons very careful with a man such as Doctor Wolf and in this particular moment, the pros outweighed the cons. For now.

[hr]

 

[Texas Joker 52]

~ Karl Adler ~ & + Carmen Jimenez +​

"And give the impression that I'm too good for a quaint little pub like this? Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, I do like a good lager every now and then."

"'If that's a good lager to you, I feel sorry for your functionless tastebuds." The police officer grumbled.

"Whatever you want from the bar is, of course, my treat, that's a given."

This guy thought he knew everything about social situations, didn't he? The smug ease in which Karl continued to carry himself couldn't but have the opposite intented effect on Carmen, almost like he was covered in slick grease, grease which he used to oil many gears.

So naturally, she refused the offer of free drinks and fast rides. Carmen replied with, "'Fraid I don't know much about the specifics, so you won't be drained dry yet. But if you want what I have, money'll always be welcome."

When she mentioned pity for his tastebuds if he considered the piss-colored liquid in the sole-remaining pint glass to be 'good lager', he regarded it with a sideways glance and a derisive sniff.

"Quite frankly, I'm not sure that even was a lager, much less had any alcohol in it. But I didn't feel any harm in giving it a try." he told her, before sighing softly.

"Anyway, name your price. What are the specifics worth to you?" he asked, one brow winging up.

"Then call it piss." Carmen retorted and joined in with the sighing.

For an instant, there was a greedy smirk spreading across her face. Carmen could wright the corp stiff for a lot of dosh for sweet fuck all; she did enjoy petty acts of spite, after all. Nevertheless, the police officer drummed the table as she responded with, "Probably the difference between a roast and a roast with trimmings, if you get my drift. But, they don't tell lowly constables like me much."

Afterwards she gave a stretched and waited for his reply.

At that, Karl couldn't help his grin as he said, "What, are you wanting me to cook dinner for you? I wouldn't mind. I'm a pretty good cook."

But he waved that off as he leaned forward and jabbed a finger in her direction.

"I'm pretty sure I can manage that, but get the feeling you're wrong about them not telling 'lowly' constables like yourself much. Most people in a position of authority tend to... Overlook some of the things they say around those that are under that authority. Besides, you come off as a very shrewd woman, Constable. I imagine you catch more than your superior's would like to think." he pointed out, adding, "Besides, I don't want much. If you can't find out certain specifics without jeopardizing your job, I'd understand."

"Technically, I'm jeopardizing my job be being here." Carmen reminded him, folding her arms. The flattery left a bad taste in her mouth and as she continued to speak, it was almost like she was redirecting the buildup of bile in her mouth.

"Right now..." A pause and a switch to the chat channel.

3Clubs: This is want I currently know: the two victims were both high-ups in CyCorp and the H.A. Dynasty. Both on the floor, little no blood, laid out almost symmetrically. I could find out more but I'd like a little advance.

He grimaced a little when she made her point and had to nod. She was right. This was already jeopardizing her job, and as it was he didn't want to be on the wrong side of a potentially crooked cop. When she switched to the private channel, he regarded her with new, more cautious interest.

Mephisto: That's more than I had before, and it's appreciated. It sounds like someone working against both companies. Regardless, what kind of advance do you want? Money, insider trading, my car, that aforementioned dinner? Any or all of the above?

As he sent the message, his face didn't shift from an expression of wary curiosity, and there was no hint of flirting this time.

Thank God it was strictly business now, at least Karl did have some tact.

Carmen did have to admit she was tempted to demand all of the above, though dinner with Karl seemed like it would be more of a bane than a boon. Not to mention that intermingling with a CyCorp higher-up and being showered with gifts from said higher-up would look a bit odd to say the least. Especially during a high profile case involving CyCorp.

She leant back as her reply was sent.

3Clubs: Just money. No need to be too indulgent.

Mephisto: Fair enough, how much? I hope you have some kind of private account I can deposit your first payment in. And I also promised some time driving my car, lest I forget.

3Clubs: Of course, I'm no newb to this. Say about £150? Pocket change. As for the car ride, I'm sure you won't forget and will take time to organise it yourself?

The moment she named her price, Karl couldn't help but flinch back at such a small figure and stare at her in bewilderment.

Mephisto: That's it? Don't get me wrong, but that seems rather... Small for the amount of risk you're taking. I'll make it double out of courtesy, and as for the car ride, I figured I'd let you borrow it for a week at least, after you drop me off at home.

3Clubs: Make it triple and maybe I won't regard like you're something that crawled out of... Oh nevermind, we're done here, yes?

Now he gave her a bland smile.

Mephisto: Ah, that's more like it. £375 then, but no more for the first payment. We can haggle the price of future payments later.

Then he slipped out of the booth, reached into his pocket and offered the keys to his car.

"You know, I never did catch your name, Constable." he mentioned in an offhand tone.

 

[Evrant-Knight]

Selene stopped for a moment, not to catch her breath or anything as she had large stores of energy left to spare; but rather to reload her guns. She half expected the police or someone to have shown up by now, then again, with the recent murders of two high ranking corps members, chances are that the forces were a little stretched thin at the moment.

However, such thoughts had momentarily distracted her, enough for her augmented perusers to encircle Selene with the weapons raised and pointing directly at her. For some reason, she actually managed to smirk at the situation before her.

"I must admit messieurs, you certainly are persistent in your efforts; and for that I commend you. So, what is so special about this bullet casing, that you'd be willing to chase me across London to get it?" She asked, keeping her pistols trained on two of the gentlemen at all times.

The men chose not to respond. That in itself wasn't so strange when it came down to it. After all they hadn't tried speaking to her in the first place, instead having chosen to simply try ending her life then and there.

What was strange was that they didn't react to her words at all. No smirks, not even signs of grim determination to get the job done. In fact, their faces showed absolutely no sign of expression whatsoever, their eyes had a slight glazed, unfocused look to them, as though they were looking right through her.

They took a few more steps towards her with their weapons still raised before freezing entirely, not a muscle moving in any of their bodies.

Selene was surprised at the lack of response, she figured she might have gotten at least a laugh or a little exposition as to their motives; even a variation on "Any last words?" would have sufficed. But no, nothing at all, it was as if they hadn't even heard her.

They then took a few more steps, Selene waited in anticipation for final strike. For a brief moment she closed her eyes and thought; "This is it. My end." When she heard not a peep of gunfire, Selene tentatively opened her eyes and saw that they had stopped moving entirely, which brought about a sense of relief and confusion.

"Mon dieu. What is this? Some kind of trick?" She quietly asked to no one in particular.

"Not quite," came a calm, slightly amused sounding female voice out of an unexpected location; one of the men's mouths was moving in synch with the words.

"You see your new friends here have had their augmentations hacked. These three are quite teched-up, and somebody has decided to use them to kill you," she continued.

"I have control of them for a brief moment, but cannot say exactly how long, so you might want to consider running," she finished, the man's mouth shutting once more and freezing in place.

Selene had to admit, despite what she had seen and done over the years, there were still some things that surprised her, this being one of them. She took a moment to holster her pistols and give her arms a stretch.

"The elusive Queen Bee I take it?" She asked with a slightly curious tone to the augmented one that the mysterious female voice had chosen to speak through, half expecting some kind of response.

"If what you're saying is true, then I best get out of dodge before whoever is controlling these gentlemen assumes direct control. To that I say, au revoir." She signed off with a wave before taking leave of the area.

 

[Knife-28]

"Hello to all you freaks, techheads and net junkies out there. Hope you're enjoying the fine London weather tonight as we kick back and listen to some of the classics."


The rain beat a steady rhythm on the roof of Kazuko Wright's car, and his thumbs mimicked the beat pumping from the car's stereo on the the crest of the steering wheel as he looked for a place to park.

Between the narrow streets and the (still heavy) police presence, free kerb space was all but non-existant and as a result Kaz was currently doing his third 'blocky', trying to find an open space to park. Dejected, he turned down Crutched Friars, ambling along trying to pick out a free parking spot out of the dark and the rain. While the street was full up, his speed was the only thing that allowed him to stop in time when he saw a shape dart out of a nearby alley and run into his the beam of his headlights.

With a squeal of rubber the car jerked to a halt, leaving Kazuko with a red mark matching the shape of his steering wheel imprinted on his forehead. Gingerly, the DJ reached up to rub his head while he keyed the switch to rolldown his window so he could curse out the idiot (Who, he noted, happened to be a woman) that had decided to run out into the street.

 

[CrazyGirl17]

Outside, the sirens increased in tone, making Liam jump. Moments later, there was a knock at the door. "Mr Vaughn are you in there? Mr Vaughn if you are in there please respond now!"

Motioning for Ira to stay there, Liam cautiously opened the door, having a sinking suspicion what the was all about.

"Hello officers, what's the problem?"

 

[Evrant-Knight]

Selene checked over her shoulder to see if the augmented had woken up and were pursuing her again, fortunately it appeared that they were still under the spell of her mysterious saviour. She ran down a narrow side alley and appeared out on the road and narrowly avoided a collision with an oncoming car. Supporting herself by placing a hand on the bonnet of the car, Selene had a look at the person who nearly ran her over.

The person in question appeared to be a tall skinny man in his late twenties to early thirties at a glance; his complexion suggested that he was of Asian descent. He had short, scruffy black hair with dashes of florescent blue. Clothes were fairly standard, jeans and a leather jacket comprised mostly of blacks and greys with the odd dash of bright colours to offset the darker undertones. In short a fairly average person.

Selene soon recomposed herself by adjusting her attire slightly so that it appeared tidy, then went round to the driver's side which conveniently the window was rolled down probably so that the driver could spew obscenities at Selene for just suddenly appearing out of the middle of the road without warning.

"My sincerest apologies Monsieur, wasn't expecting anyone to be out driving this time of night." Selene then paused for a few seconds.

"I know this might seem a bit odd considering what just happened, but I don't suppose you could give me a lift back to my apartment please? Otherwise it is going to be a long walk for me, and with this weather I'm bound to catch a cold or something."

 

[Knight Captain Kerr]

Ira remained where he was. He was staying out of sight of the officers at the door and keeping quiet. He was curious as to what they were here for.

 

[Knife-28]

Before he had the chance to open his mouth, Kazuko was interrupted by the mystery woman apologizing, and and almost immediately asking for a ride to her apartment. Kazuko cocked an eyebrow at the woman as he considered her proposal. Strangers asking for car rides were typically bad news, but the woman did look somewhat bedraggled from the weather, with her sodden clothes and rain slicked hair.

Plus Kazuko Wright was a sucker for redheads, so that was a point in her favor.

Still, the overwhelming instinct to not let a complete stranger get into his car (even if they were an attractive woman) made him pause and sigh in annoyance as he rubbed the sore mark the steering wheel had left on his forehead.

"Shit I dunno," He started, speaking with a slight Australian lilt that was rather at odds to his Asian features, "I'm sure you're a nice chick and all but I've only just met you, you know? Plus it's not exactly like I've got a sign up here saying 'Taxi' now." He punctuated his last statement by reaching out the window and patting the roof of his car.

 

[Generic NPC 22]

London 2056 | Irina's Flat
Roll for Perception and Anatomical Knowledge!!​

Irina's ears... her faux feline ones that topped her head... flattened against her hair as it sensed their wearer's agitation at hearing Charles' load of bullshit... or bullshite to be regionally accurate. It might have been the alcohol that he had imbibed or the fact that he possibly cracked his skull pretty well against Irina's kitchen floor BUT there was quite the big gaping hole in his story namely...

"Charles, could I talk to you for a moment. In private?" Irina said, shooing Karine out of the room for a moment before turning up the sounds of Ponies at Play really high. Turning on her guest and soiler of her clothing, she gave him a look, one that said, I know what you just told me was a lie and now you'd better tell me what's really going on. She'd perfected it on Sienna and now she tried to use it on Charles, which might have worked had his optical augmentations been working well.

"Look, I know you just met us and all but I can vouche for Karine when I say that she'll do everything that she can to help you. Hell, she probably just got through killing a random warlord in Africa, not that she would ever tell me any military secrets, but the first thing she did when she was done was check on me. You can't buy friends like that and you can't find friends like that very often." Irina said with a smile, "I know you're lying."

It was a simple statement but it still begged the question how she knew he was lying.

"If your optic nerves were destroyed, your Augmentations wouldn't work. Even if you suffered from Optical Nerve Degeneration, they could simply increase the signaling output from your augmentation to your nervous system to compensate. Whatever you're having issues with is related to your aug, not you." The Cat Eared Woman stated. She'd been around enough people with enough augmentations to know that there were things that could be done to counteract any nerve damage. Hell, they'd created spinal bridges that allowed people who had suffered from spinal cord injuries to walk again.

"So, could you please tell Karine and I what's going on? She's already made sure that no one besides her and I know that you're here."

There was a certain kindness to her voice, a kindness that was laced with something else. That something was a desire to occupy her mind with some task so that she didn't have to think about what was going on in her life.

Escapism. That was the term for it. It was the biggest rage back in the turn of the millennium. There were articles written about it, papers written about. There were even websites dedicated to the art of Escapism.

 

[Evrant-Knight]

"Shit I dunno," The gentleman said, speaking with a slight Australian accent. "I'm sure you're a nice chick and all but I've only just met you, you know? Plus it's not exactly like I've got a sign up here saying 'Taxi' now." He then furthered the point by reaching out of the window with his free arm and patting the roof of his car.

"Goes to show how chivalry is seldom used these days." Selene thought as she contemplated her options.

"The obvious would be to simply pull out a handgun and threaten to shoot him if he doesn't give me a lift home, but that would be out for character for me. I'd only resort to such an idea if I was desperate, which I am, but not that desperate. There is always favours route, but then again, I don't know what sort of person this guy is, and what he'd want me to do for him in return." After some more deliberation she reached into her suit jacket and pulled out her wallet.

"How's about a little economic persuasion? Say £20 to take me home, and I'll throw in a drink at my place if you're interested."

 

[Knife-28]

"How's about a little economic persuasion? Say £20 to take me home, and I'll throw in a drink at my place if you're interested."

The promise of money and a free drink, that was another two points to the redheaded woman's favor.

"Well, I wasn't doing anything anyway..." A lie, but even if he was going to give a complete stranger a ride home, he wasn't about to blab about how he was trying to have a stickybeak at a crime scene. Plus with any luck by the time he dropped her off, some parking will have opened up near the Apex City of London. "Alright sure, hop in."

Kaz reached across and opened the passenger side door. With all his DJing equipment taking up the back set, it was the only free space in the car.

"Name's Kazuko Wright, and I'll be your driver for this evening." He said, his upbeat attitude at odds with the dreary London weather, "What's your address Ms..."

 

[Neuromancer]

This was more trouble than it was worth.

That's how Charles felt as the way-smaller-than-average cathost of his made the copper leave the room and turned up the volume, the pony song ringing in his unprepared ears. It was annoying. And catchy. Catchingly Annoying. And way, way too loud for his migraine. As he turned to stare at Irina, visibly irritated, she shot him a glare that felt all to familiar.

Back when Charles was not Charles, but Feargus, when he was a child living alone with his mother, before the illness that ultimately manifested claimed her life, Charles was quite the mischievous toddler, one would say borne of the enviroment in which he was raised. End-war and post-war Belfast was a hellhole. For most of that time it was completely cut off from the rest of the world, as the countryside was ruled by bands of modern-age warlords, and the English government that had dragged them into the war in the first place had abandoned them as a lost cause. And so, despite his mother's best efforts, he still turned out to be a problem child, though not to a great extend. Whenever he would lie about something, she would shoot at him an all knowing glare...

...Much like the one Irina was right now. Just staring at her brought back memories that Charles didn't want to remember, kickstarting his depression again. Unable and unwilling to bear it, he turned away from facing her and instead stared at the ponies. The ponies were... colorful, he supposed.

"Look, I know you just met us and all but I can vouche for Karine when I say that she'll do everything that she can to help you. Hell, she probably just got through killing a random warlord in Africa, not that she would ever tell me any military secrets, but the first thing she did when she was done was check on me. You can't buy friends like that and you can't find friends like that very often."

That much was true, he supposed. True friends are a commodity these days. However, the peeler was no friend to him, and his past was too colourful that a random copper like her would not arrest him for it.

"I know you're lying."

That phrase. That single phrase acted as the trigger that kicked his depression into overdrive. His mother always said it when she threw "the glare".

Fuck me, why does she bloody care so much?

He didn't bother paying attention to her explanation about why she knew he was lying; to him, it didn't matter. He was too depressed and distressed to care; the past was the one thing he never wanted to visit, yet Irina was, unknowingly, triggering one painful memory after the other. So much for helping.

"So, could you please tell Karine and I what's going on? She's already made sure that no one besides her and I know that you're here."

He was reaching his boiling point, almost ready to explode in a fit of anguish and anger. Why was this woman so prying? She clearly had her own problems to deal with, so why even bother with him? She had no idea what kind of baggage he was carrying yet she was willingly reaching out to him. Was this some kind of twisted joke? Or was this some sort of coping mechanism to her, ignoring her problems by listening to the plight of others? Though he did appreciate the kindness, he certainly didn't appreciate her relentless probing on his problems.

Even so, he rationalised, she didn't deserve to be shouted at. Everyone copes differently, and her way of coping was definately better than his. So, he calmed his ravaged mind and replied.

"Miss Irina," he started in a somber tone, "I am extremely grateful fer providin' me shelter and extending a handa assistance fer me problems. 'Tis for that reason, however, that I cannot indulge ye. Ye clearly have yer own problems ta deal with, and I'd help with 'em if I could, but I'm just a good-fer-nothin' drunkard. This... rabbit hole yer trying ta get into goes much deeper than ye think. In a way, I'm doin' ye a favour."

With visible effort, he got up from laying on the bed, now sitting on its edge, staring at his small-in-stature-but-not-in-heart cathost with regret, "I'm sorry, but me baggage is me own ta carry. Once I feel well enough ta walk, I'll get outta 'ere and ye'll hopefully never 'ave ta see me again."

 

[Evrant-Knight]

"Well, I wasn't doing anything anyway..." The driver said in a slightly nervous manner as he turned away briefly. Then mere seconds later he came back sounding more chipper. "Alright sure, hop in." As Selene walked round, the driver lent over to open the passenger door for her, how kind of him. Selene sat down in the passenger seat and instantly felt her damp clothing sticking to her skin, making her shiver a little.

"Name's Kazuko Wright, and I'll be your driver for this evening." He said in a rather upbeat manner, certainly a mood lightener given the current climate.

"What's your address Ms..."

"Dumas. Selene Dumas. My address is at The Continental Apartments along Bayswater Rd, overlooking Hyde Park." Selene replied in a cordial manner. As they set off, she looked over her shoulder and saw the pile of DJ'ing equipment that encompassed the whole of the back seat. Whilst she wasn't exactly a fan of such music, she'd at least heard of it.

"A hobby of yours?"

 

[Generic NPC 22]

London 2056 | Irina's Flat
Ever Read/See Misery?​

There was a part of the cuter and far more intelligent woman than the drunky drunk would ever meet in the streets that was suddenly perked by the mention of rabbit holes and baggage. Were things as simple as what the alcoholic vagrant had told the taller-than-the-average-cat-girl cat girl not only would he have attempted to lie to her, not only would have have not referenced whatever he was running from as a rabbit hole or baggage, he also wouldn't have attempted to warned her off. Rather than deter the taller-and-better-looking-than-all-other-catgirls cat like girl, it only fanned the flames of her interest in regards to Charles' case, from a purely journalistic viewpoint of course.

Irina briefly considered tying down the stinky-smell-butthead that she was trying to help, just like the Biggest Fan/Actress Kathy Bates had done to actor James Caan in the classic movie Misery. It was more of a fanciful thought rather than a serious one. At times of stress, the fancier-than-fancy cat girl relied on humor to get her brain to unfreeze itself.

Still, if the man didn't want help, The nicer-towards-Charles-than-he-deserved hostess wouldn't force it upon him.

"Fine." Irina said simply as she opened the doorand ushered her neighbor back in.

"I'm in the mood for omelettes. If either of you would care for anything, just scream it towards the kitchen." Irina asked as she left the room, "Lord knows I could use some normalcy."

As she walked towards the kitchen, she sent an encrypted message to Talasian.

"Hey, T. What could cause a man's augs to start going haywire?" The sweeter than sweet hostess asked. The man didn't look old enough to have an early model set of augs on him. As it usually was with early adopters, the early days of augmentation had some casualties, some of which mirrored what Charles was going through.

Looking at the issue systemically, Irina considered the fact that both Charles' ocular augmentations and any leg augs that he had were acting up at the same time. The chances for two independent systems to be malfunctioning simultaneously were slim without a common factor to connect them. If the issue was with Charles' nervous system, whatever doctor had installed the smelly-stinky-drunk's augmentations could have compensated for the degeneration. It was a curious mystery, one that thankfully took Irina's mind off of her own.

 

[FalloutJack]

The thing that had to be understood about Karine Asagi was that she did what she did in life for essentially what is right and proper. In most cases, what was right and what was lawful coincided. However, there were cases - usually where somebody's abusing the letter of the law, where you have actions that are still right, but not according to the law. Take earlier today. She killed a bunch of men. They were not murderers, just threatening lives for mere profit. Also, there was a General involved. Killing them was the best route, but only a military woman could get away with that one.

Now, we have Charles.

He put up a nice story, but you don't tell that one to someone with eye prosthetics. It's bullshit and we all know it. He was lying out his ass to protect something, which Irina must've picked up on as well, given the scooting that she gave her now. Asagi had no desire to pick through loud an irritating pony-sound, though she had a fair chance of success, so she went and got into that beer. She also used the time to look up info on Nathaniel Cray. Finally, her neighbor let her back in. Irina started talking omellettes and 'Normalcy'. Karine preferred 'Normality'. Sounded better. Anyway, she smiled at Charles.

Oh god, she was smiling.

Asagi didn't have much call for good humor. She also wasn't a sadist, fortunately. No no, this was a precision maneuver. People with things to hide were either afraid of something happening as a result of that secret - which can range from embarassment to disaster - or that he planned to do something wrong with it. That smile was an 'I've got you' look. She had ways of finding things out about him without needing to ask. She was, in fact, already sending an eye-image of him back to base, with the message 'Identify please along with it. Her demeanor returned to normal now.

"Nevermind about your prosthetics, then. Will you tell me about when you and Irina met? There was a shorter woman there I want to investigate, maybe CyCorp. Did you see her? Can you describe her?"

 

[Neuromancer]

As Charles was done with his request, he had a feeling that the I-swear-I-don't-lick-myself-to-clean-myself cat girl wasn't just going to let this slide. Her previous behaviour had already established that she was too curious for her own good, and considering the inquisitive stare she was shooting him as she was thinking on how to react at his request, it stood to reason that she wouldn't just stop with his plea to let the matter drop.

"Fine."

Fine? he thought to himself. Was she actually giving up finding up more about him? No, no way it was that easy. If she couldn't find out more from him, she would most likely try some other way to do so. Her behaviour much reminded him of how most of your regular run-of-the-mill I-don't-care-about-your-privacy-I-just-want-clicks-for-my-clickbait-articles tabloid journalists went about writing their worse-than-garbage articles.

Charles let that thought sink in for a second.

...

Shit, was she a tabloid journalist?!

The possibly-hack-writer opened the door and left the room, leaving behind the promise of burnt omelettes and a peeler. Jonathan would have much prefered to content with more questions for a garbage article than deal with her copper friend.

Who was giving of a slasher smile along the lines of "I'm not letting you get away that easily"

The bad luck train ain't got no breaks, does it?

Charles let off a sigh and gave a tired "Why can't I catch a break" stare as a reply. The peeler was much more dangerous than her Hacklo Kitty friend. Not because she could potentially dig up his past, mind you. Charles', or rather, Feargus' death and events leading to it were one of CyCorps more well-guarded secrets, and not just for the murder charges. Between the installation of extremely experimental (and thus top secret) cyberware in his brain and his becoming a guinea pig for an even more experimental virus (and thus topper secret) that was supposed to be used as a counter for the inevitable use of cyberware in covert corporate operations, Cycorp had used their influence to make sure that Feargus died in the most unsuspecting way. Ravaged by the same ilness that claimed his mother. The bloody wankers had even presented a large "official" list of hospital visits for tests, doctor testimonies, the results of the bloody autopsy; pretty much everything they needed to do to sufficiently cover their arses.

And for that part, his mysterious benefactor had made sure that his new cover identity wasn't a rush job. The extensive facial reconstruction he had gone through while comatose was just the start; extensive medical history (even if Charles had never bothered to read it, which, considering his current situation, would have been pretty darn useful), a birth certificate, pretty everything one needed to believably show that Charles Derek May was an actual person and not a cover. He couldn't help but wonder why (and who, who being the more important question) anyone would bother with putting this much effort for a grey hat(even one that was really darn good at his job) and, taking that thought to its logical conclusion, how they would react to learning that a cat lacking journalistic integrity and a copper were trying to dig into his past.

"Nevermind about your prosthetics, then. Will you tell me about when you and Irina met? There was a shorter woman there I want to investigate, maybe CyCorp. Did you see her? Can you describe her?"

Despite knowing that the peeler wasn't really letting the matter of his augs drop so easily, he was glad the subject was changed to one that he hadn't to come up with excuses about.

"Basic'lly, I was walkin' down the road lookin' fer a place ta spend the night after getting plastered, when suddenly Miss Irina appeared running from a corner. I wasn't prepared fer something like that, and I crashed into 'er, knocking 'er down. I never saw tha woman yer referring to, so I'm guessin' it 'apppened well before Miss Irina bumped inta me," he suddenly felt the urge to inquire further about Irina's well being, "Miss Irina was cryin' when we... uh... met. At first I thought it was because I had crashed into 'er too 'ard, but in hindsight, me thinks that she'd been cryin' well before our paths crossed. If ye don't mind me askin', what exactly 'appened ta 'er before we met? I caught snippets of it when she was talkin' to ye on tha phone, but I never got the full picture of it."

The irony of the fact he was inquiring about someone else's past when he refused to talk about his dawned upon him, but it was already too late by the time it did.