:::Chaotic Anatomy:::

The ground above seemed to thump with music here and there, depending on where you were in the Tunnels at the time. Yes, Encore was underground; in the Sewers.

Because the Slums wasn't really kept up though, that's where they scoped out a perfect place. You knew you were close when the scum and grime-covered bricks turned into thick plates of steel hinged against the tunnel walls with large silver staples. Letters were freshly painted onto these plates, and small maps decorated the steel-plated floors to lead you around the Encore system. But you had to be of Encore to read these things.
The Encore Republic was careful.

In this sick world, it had to be.

A woman fell into the tunnels, landing like a feline on her feet in a crouch from the manhole above. The rays of street light from the world above shone down on her, casting her in shadow yet giving her hair a luminous magenta glow. Lyric tilted her head up and nodded to the man standing on the street. He nodded back, and the light disappeared as the manhole cover slid back into place. Once the grinding stopped, Lyric came to her feet and heard the announcement- the voice of Abel- ringing softly through the tunnels. Right now she was not in the Tunnel System of Encore, but instead just the sewers.

Rotting dusty bricks, two thin walkways on either side of the arched tunnel, and a mess of black water flowing between. If one looked, they could see bones and carcasses beneath that water. A dark history lay here in these slums...

She began a fast walk, her boots making soft thuds on the eroding concrete as she stretched long strides to make it to her destination. Her tank top was black, fitted tight against her frame; unlike her pants which were- as well- black, yet slightly loose with many pockets. Throwing a fleeting glance from jade eyes to the wall, she saw a backwards B painted there, and a twisted arrow. There, she made her turn.

Onwards she continued, until another metal plate appeared on the wall, and another; until finally the whole tunnel was covered in this new wallpaper of steel. Even a steel bridge fell over the center waterway, making the sewer tunnel more like a metal hallway. Here, the other connections availed to her others moving towards the Discussion Room; where missions were assigned by the District General: Abel Hamilton.

Her hair flickered behind her as her cold eyes of shadowed green stood only to see the Discussion Room- which was not even in sight yet.

But something stopped her.

You're in a rush. A sarcastic tone broke into her blank mind, instantly reaping her of her focus. She turned sharp right as a hand had settled on her back where her blade and sheath rested.

"What do you want?" She spat, her soft yet too-cold voice echoed through the metallic Encore hideaway.

A man stepped just a bit closer, letting the bright white overhead light illuminate his strong tanned features and dark black hair.

"Geez, take it easy Lyric." He chuckled, shaking his head. He gave her a gentle push along her shoulder and turned her around and then pushed her back just barely. Telepathically, he spoke to her again.

Can't I at least speak my mind? He chuckled mentally, his deep baritone voice far too invasive when it reached beyond her ears.

"No, you can't." Lyrics spat at Muse again. Muse was a nuisance, an ex-lover, and a horrible regret in her personal opinion. She was not the right woman for him. Not soft enough to be his kind of woman. She was tough, and that alone was enough to have sparked quite a few vicious arguments.

Soon she turned again, a few more people there as the tunnel widened a bit.

You've turned into such a cold bitch. Muse mocked to her again, without even having to open his mouth.

"I haven't changed at all, you're just finally opening your eyes." Lyric flashed a glance down the hall to a thick door carved into the side of the tunnel, where the steel plates curved inwards in a slope. The DR was the Discussion Room, and when she got there, she knew Abel would shut Muse up.

That's not a nice thought! Abel likes me, thank you very much.

"Shut up you child." Lyric whispered, throwing her elbow back and striking his hard stomach with it. He let out a quick exhale and then gathered the air to create a simplistic laugh.

"Ow." He said in a non-enthused manner, before walking forward again. But this time, Lyric swung open the door of the Discussion Room.

One look and she saw Abel, who happily was next to the door, and stuck out a brawny arm and caught Muse; allowing Lyric to move across the room and take a seat upon the first row of steel and cushion chairs.

"Don't play with the kitty, she's got a mean bite." Abel whispered, and laughed gently. That old boy was a real savior here. Abel was a tall man in his early forties, with a rich tan and leathery skin, but the look of an older brother and possible father remained there. His face was soft and traced with salt and pepper stubble along his chin. He wore a black beanie over his hair and a black leather jacket over a wife beater, as well as camouflage pants over combat boots.

Releasing Muse he moved to his own chair, front and center next to a widescreen crystal-pixel tv. A picture flickered on, of a great and beautiful city of chrome and steel and glass. It was Krew, with dancing lights and celebrating people.
And on the Center Spire- the building where a few of the NA Council Members were staying- appeared a picture of Axel Hamilton; Abel's younger brother and the Leader of the Neo-Anarchist Council.

"Everybody sit down, and shud'dup." He grinned, waiting for everyone to gather and take seat before the newest mission was stated.

And what an new mission it would be.
Destruction of a New Year...

Fuck... They still back there?

Heavy boots thudded on the broken asphalt and concrete. Brick's mouth hung open as he sucked in air. Looking back over his shoulder he tried to see his pursuers. They were no where to be seen. Taking a right hand turn Brick slipped into the shadows of an alley and dropped to one knee.

Running a gloved hand over his shaved head and closing his eyes Brick commanded his body to gain control of his erratic breathing. The black man was the typical denizens of the Slums. His clothes fit well but all were worn from his dark boots to the black tank top he wore told anyone who saw him that he had lived in the Slums for his whole life. Around Bricks neck hung a black bandanna that was slowly getting soaked in sweat. He raised the rag to his forehead and mopped up some of the moisture.

"Alright, where to now," Brick softly spoke to himself now that his breathing was under control. His right hand gripped the semi-automatic pistol that was slipped into the holster at the small of his back. He checked the chamber expertly. How many slugs to I fire? 3? 4? Shit. His thumb hit the magazine extractor button. The steel clip fell from the handle of the pistol into Brick's left hand. 11 rounds. I fired 6. With a frown he slipped the clip back into the handgun and placed the firearm back into the holster.

His right hand gripped the ax that he had carried with him. Standing up he poked his head around the corner. They weren't there. Smirking slightly he stepped from the shadows and jogged off from the alley.

As he entered the broken down stores and dilapidated housing units Brick went back through the nights events. Where had he made the mistake? How did they find him? He couldn't remember exactly. The whole situation was a cluster fuck to him.

Brick passed through the last building and stopped before he hit the street. Looking both ways before he crossed the big man sprinted across the street towards the large storm drain. Brick paused once he was a few hundred feet into the sewer system letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

The maze of the sewer always confused Brick. No doubt he would wander around for a little bit until he found where the ER base was hidden. Happy New Year Brick smiled as he walked in what he hoped to be the right direction.

Vasha had memorized three paths around the base so far: her room to the cafeteria, her room to the training facilities, and her room to the meeting room. Tonight there had been no question of being late. She made her way early, sliding her fingertips along the metal sheeting on the walls and listening carefully for other traffic. Of course there was, everyone was going to the meeting as the lovely hall voice had reminded them.

'Happy New Year,' She thought. Her first New Year without Dad. The people in the hall with her were excited. Not in a particularly celebratory way, but a tense, taut excitement that seemed to push on the walls. Vasha wanted to push back on it with her ghosting. She felt lost in it's pressure. Just a little space, that was all she wanted, in that moment.

Finally, she reached the door and three people went in a head of her. She simply listened patiently. She would be in soon enough and she was still early. A fourth person stopped in the doorway. His footfalls had been fairly light, either he was young or--

"Here you go." The voice came from above her. Not a hard thing being a rough five foot four, but he was taller than her. She pushed a little on the patch of space where his voice had come from. It would have felt like a breeze; she didn't push very hard to find things. Then Vasha began to build an image of him in her head. She was sure the image was nothing like what he might actually look like, but it helped her to identify him, along with the faint smell of . . . well no, most people smelled of sewer down here. She tried to separate out another smell to add to her model and the sound of his voice.

"Are you coming in or just gonna hang out by the door?"

He'd spoken again. Vasha flushed a little. After being around people, plural, consistently for a few months now, it was still difficult to remember that she needed to say something sometimes. Having lived just with her father, the didn't always talk and hence her "small talk," as she had learned to call it, was not well polished.

"No, I'm coming in. Thank you." She put a hand on the door and--remembering to step over the door jamb--entered the room. Pushing briefly, illuminated a range of space to sift through before she could sit down. But she felt a hand at her elbow.

"There's an empty seat just over that way."

Vasha's temper flared and she pushed on his hand hard enough to send it popping off her elbow. "I'm fine. I don't need help." Instead of listening for his reply, she pushed a little harder where she'd found an empty seat and took the ten steps to the chair. Proud of herself she sat down, she had avoided three people, walking over and managed to sit down comfortably after pulling the chair to the right angle. She had faced it in the direction that the other chairs she'd found were facing. Then adjusted it towards the space where there seemed to be a sound gap: one person, probably Abel.

Sound created patterns around Vasha as she sat and listened. Her dark hair was pulled away from her ears to enable the best listening. Someone a couple feet away mentioned her and a little frown twisted her lips; had she been able to see, she probably would never have heard that. It was discomfiting to be around so many people. Most of her life had been spent in groups of two to three people. That was all. Her fear of large groups had diminished some what, but all the noise tended to fog her senses up just a bit. It meant she had to concentrate a little harder and if someone spoke to her, the concentration split between things. When people spoke about her, often their tones held a hint of not quite knowing how to respond. They didn't know what to do with her: she was blind and a ghost. But her ghosting didn't let her see, not in any normal way. She could build patterns but it still took a little time. She was working in the training facilities every day to try and hone her skills but she would never be able to replace her sight. Luckily, her other senses were adapting to the new conditions, if slower than she would have liked. Her sense of smell was quickly becoming numb to the sewer smell and she was beginning to distinguish other smells in the areas. Additionally, the began to be able to sort the sounds she heard for important ones. Air flow fell under her telekinetics and the more control she had over that the better she understood her world.

But people were a little beyond her. She wore her little dark glasses tonight, since there were so many people around and she didn't want to show off her squinting--someone had made a comment about that once, when they thought she couldn't hear. Besides, they were going to announce the new mission tonight and she hoped they would have something for her to do. It was after all the New Year. A time for beginnings and new things; new people, new gifts. A time perhaps for Vasha to blossom and do something.

"Everybody sit down, and shud'dup." Abel was speaking. Vasha listened. She could hear the smile breaking the corners of his words. And her own lips responded by curling up. She had liked him from the first moment she'd heard his voice. She was honored to be part of a--a gang? organization? She often wondered what the correct terminology would be. She wasn't sure exactly how big the ER was--that he ran. She felt the room around her quieting down and shifted in her seat a little. This was it.

Daniel stood under the shower, letting the hot, pressurized water massage his back and shoulders. It ran down his body in rivulets, rinsing the cleansing soap away, pooling in a shallow puddle at his feet just deep enough to warm his toes, before it swirled down the drain in the middle of the shower. His hair hung down over his face, a tiny stream pouring from the tip of his fringe. In the shower, it seemed almost neat, a sharp contrast to its normal unruly and tousled state. He raised a hand, staring at the rough, calloused palm. The prints had long been worn off the tips of his fingers, leaving his touch untraceable, and his skin was hard from long years of hard work. Sometimes the rank-and-file soldiers seemed to think that the skin of a specialist--a "sneak," as they called him when to his back--should be soft and silky. They had no idea. He traced his hand down his chest, feeling the musculature underneath his wet skin. How long since he'd trained himself? He couldn't remember. There was no point, not any more. There had been no point for a long time.

He turned off the pressure but stood still, letting the water drip from his body. The air was colder than the water, even with the heating on. He stayed a moment longer until he was merely damp, then opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the foot-drying carpet outside the shower. He let the air dry his body for a few minutes, then finished the job with a white towel and wrapped it around his waist. He was a creature of the night. During the day, the NA government loosed its dogs of soldiers on the slums, letting them snarl and savage the unlucky from underneath their protective solar radiation-proof suits, but when the sun set and the denizens of the world below came out of their UV-shielded homes, that was his time to stalk. He hid himself by becoming one with the crowds, and used that oneness to pick them apart from the inside. He was the double agent always, forever trusted by those he hunted and scorned by those he fought for. It would have frustrated him, but he didn't allow frustration. He didn't allow it, ever.

"Special agent Daniel Dantino." The computer's smooth genderless voice sounded from the room beyond him, vaguely feminine but without the living warmth of human speech. He walked past the four-by-six-foot glowing square of wall, walked to the tinted windows and stopped there, looking out at the city as it was lit by the deadly rays of the setting sun. The computer went on, not waiting for his confirmation. It knew he was there. "There is a message for you from Colonel Anningstone."

"Go ahead," he said. As if it would stop if he told it to. Behind him, the square of wall faded to a picture of a stern-looking woman, too old to be pretty, too austere to be elegant, and too tight-lipped to be likable. He saw her vague reflection in the window, but chose to ignore it, looking instead down at the glowing lights of the Neo-city cars as the sun dipped below the horizon.

"Daniel Dantino," Col. Anningstone said, her crisp voice carrying, as always, the hint that she had just bitten into a particularly pungent rotten fruit. "Colonel Anningstone," he replied emotionlessly. "You have orders for me?" The sun was more than three-quarters submerged now, shooting its last baleful rays over the city.

"I do," she said. "As you know, the eve of the 3rd millennium is approaching. This will be a huge event for our city, and a milestone in humanity's journey towards perfect self-sufficiency. It will be a monumental opportunity to raise public morale, and it must go without a hitch. There must be no disturbance whatsoever for a period of twenty-four hours, precisely." He grunted noncommittally, watching the sun sink lower and lower. She forged onwards, not caring whether he faced her or not. "The slums are, as always, full of malcontents. The trash heap of humanity, teeming with the scum not worthy of life within the Neo-cities. Obviously, there will be drunkards rioting, and the military presence within the slums will have to be tripled, at least. Groups of three or more people will be dispersed using all necessary force. However, this is not your task."

"I gathered as much," he said dryly. "I knew everything you just told me already, Colonel. Is there a point?"

Her thin lips twisted with faint displeasure. "Yes, Dantino. There is a point. The military will handle the disorganized revolting. It will be easily controlled, once several examples are made. You are to search for a much more insidious threat. It will be your task to seek out any organized resistance against the state, and see that it is put down." Her eyes pierced into his back like daggers. "Needless to say, this is of utmost importance to the state. If there is an incident, several people have been given responsibility, and will be held to account for their failures. You are one such person, Dantino. You will have military assistance as deemed necessary, and license to kill. You start tonight."

As she spoke, the sun gave up its struggle against the rotation of the earth and vanished, surrendering the sky to darkness. With a soft grunt, Daniel turned from the window and strode to the pile of clothing folded on a chair. He dropped the towel without a thought for his modesty, and she ignored it. There was nothing sexual here; nudity was only a state of dress, nothing more. He pulled on his colorless turtleneck and buckled his faded jeans, tying the laces of his dull working boots tightly and tucking them down beside his ankles. The blade made a malevolent hissing noise as it slid into the sheath he strapped upside-down to his back. With a series of metallic clicks, his custom-made handgun was assembled, the magazine checked, and the sidearm slipped into its shoulder holster. A short, plain coat concealed his weaponry, and his dark glasses slid over his eyes like a cockpit closing over a pilot. He strode to the door and opened it, walking out without another word to the Colonel. She watched him go, watched the door close behind him, then the screen flickered to blackness on his wall.

Brick jogged through the sewers. His body was covered in sweat. He had been running for a while now. Stopping at an inner section of sewers he doubled over resting his hands on his knees. Inhaling deeply he looked right to left, right to left, than straight. Shrugging he headed straight. Sooner or later he would find someone or something. He hoped it would be the ER Head Quarters.

Brick started to notice signs the ER HQ was coming up. With a smile he jogged on. His fire mans ax started to weigh heavy on his back. The weapon was crude, no doubt, but it served him well. He wasn't skilled with a sword but what he lacked in skill he made up in being one of the meanest mother fuckers the ER had.

He was getting close. He saw some familiar faces start to pop out of place. Slowing, he rest his right hand on his hip and walked towards the meeting room. His left hand lifted the rag around his neck and mopped up some of the sweat on his forehead.

Taking his last right he turned into the meeting room. Quite a few people were there. He saw Vasha. Smiling he went to sit next to the blind girl.

" 'ey girl," he spoke softly. His thick street tone always let people know who it was. He slipped his ax out of it's make shift case, set it next to his chair, than pulled his pistol out of his waistband and sat down. He set the pistol on his lap and leaned back.

He watched Able. The man was the leader. Brick owed him a ton. He saved him from a life on the inside. Brick was one of the many who would lay their life down for Able without question. No one else sitting around the table would have been given that much respect from Brick.

"Let's get this started," he untied the rag around his neck and wiped his face again with it.

When everyone had settled in, Abel cleared his throat, making a hand gesture to some of the others still standing to take a seat. The man had a crooked grin plastered upon his tanned (and somewhat leathery) face. But then again, that was just Abel. He was always smiling loosely, like he had something to be satisfied about. And that was hard to believe when you lived in the Slums, but it didn't matter too much.

"Well kiddos, we got ourselves a target..." He turned his head up to the long thin screen against the wall. His other hand beheld a small black remote, that was the size and density of a stick of gum. A thin little blue circle was on it, and as he ran his finger over it, it began to play the image on the screen...


"We want to welcome, with open arms, High Council Member, Axel Benadict!" A voice came, a man of some mid-thirties age stepping aside to wave his arm towards a large set of glassy tinted doors. As they opened, a set of about twenty guards in black gear- thin and advanced- stepped out. They marched forward somewhat loosely, carrying odd weapons that were like pistols with blades running out of the bottom of the grip, and a strange reload style that made the clip stick into the back.


A man finally stepped out, in a black button-up shirt with matching slacks, beneath a white and red jacket that swept the floor and had the NA symbol on the back: a red circle with a 'N' and 'A' built into it in an intricate design.

"He's come to celebrate the New Year with one of the world's most prosperous cities around. Let's here it for the Council Member!"

Abel held up the remote and paused the feed, freezing a picture of his younger brother Axel. The two were utter opposites, and it was apparent even now. Abel's softer and more humorous nature- cased into a hard and serious lifestyle that allowed him to get the job done, versus Axel's softer look, that made him look almost crazed with his dark shady eyes and slightly drawn together brows.


"This is Axel, we should all understand that he is a bad guy. Leader of the Council. Leader of the Neo-Anarchist establishment. For now, he'll be staying in Krew to enjoy the New Year Celebration. He'll be there for a set of seven days; or one week."

Abel cleared his throat, and rewound the tape, until the screen was black with many blue lines upon it. He then sat the tiny black remote down and folded his arms across his chest, stretching his legs outwards.

"These are the blueprints of Krew. You're all going to need a copy of them, since you'll all be an infiltration squad. Y'know, the big team. Seek and destroy, that's my kids." He nodded to the rest of them, coughing out a rumbling laugh.

"First off, we're going to go over positions. We don't have many Ghosts in our district, so we're not going with the usual tactic of throwing them out front. Instead, the assassins will be stepping it up to the front. Ghosts will be behind, and from there, thieves and beyond will be working side-parts to help create aid.

"This is a mission that will take all of you. Every single one of you punks are gonna' step up this time. I hope you're ready for it." Abel chuckled again.

"So, to put it simply... We're taking over the big city, and we're gonna' take down Axel Benedict."





Lyric listened attentively, her eyes wandering through the place, but she just nodded. Well, it all made sense. And when he said that assassins were front line, well, a flutter filled her stomach. Finally, a big mission. A final test of strength and will. This would determine the Encore's true strength...

Calm down sweet-cheeks, I'll protect you. Muse telepathically mocked, causing Lyra to turn her head and form a glare of sorts.

"How about this?" Lyra said, flipping a quick and slender bird, before turning around and folding her arms over her chest- mimicking a previous look that Abel had just adorned.



"Well then. Any questions about placement within the squad?" Abel said, after rolling his fatherly eyes away from Lyric and Muse; the bitter and the foolish.

Hopefully, if all went well, this would allow them the first installment of democracy again. And with that, came a great hope of restoring a world once taken for granted...

(OOC: hopefully we can just pretend this came before your Eternity. I think was writing about the same time but you beat me to it. )

IC:
"Tape?" The bar keeper looked confused into Claus's eyes which were currently displaying tiny images of a role of tape. "I don't get it."

Claus sighed and the image zoomed way in on the illegible name brand on the tape's packaging.

"Scotch?" comprehension dawned on the barman. "Oh, scotch. Coming right up."

Claus grinned and nodded. Sometime he liked letting his eyes do the talking. "So how's business been, Kaspar?"

"Are you kidding? with the new year coming up? S'been reel good, real good." Kaspar set the scotch on the counter in front of Claus. "One or two cubes?" Claus stared at him until Kaspar realized what was flashing at him in Claus's pupils. He plopped two ice cubes into the glass and nudged it across the counter. "How about you? Hows business?"

Claus took a sip of his drink before answering. "Its been a bit lean lately, not a whole lot going down."

Kaspar looked skeptical. "Are you serious? I know I got job on que down at sector... I was kinna hoppin' that's why you was here."

"Are YOU serious? You thought I came down here to take job sneaking into your ex's house and stealing back your ring?" Claus laughed. "Come on, give me some credit. I mean, Kaspar, you know I love you like the brother I never wanted, but this job is for... ah, I don't know, somebody needs practice at climbing a fire-escape or something."

"So you read it?" Kaspar looked nonplussed.

"Of course I read it, and I recommended it to a swell new kid." Claus took another sip and looked pensive. "can't remember his name. He looked really sure of himself though." Suddenly a pair of large red exclamation points lit on the screens of his contacts. "Oh, gotta fly, got somewhere to be." He slid of the stool and started to walk away.

"Hey! you gunna pay for this?" Kaspar yelled at his back.

"Come on, you know I'm good for it. Think of it as a handling fee for me getting you a thief on that job of yours." With that he stepped out of the pub and onto the busy sidewalk.

The night was alive with the sights, smells, and sounds of the teaming mass of humanity that lived beneath this colossal dome. Claus's contacts turned from black to clear so that his natural green eyes came through. It was time to go to work, or at least go get some work.He hailed a cab and had the driver drop him off as close to slums as he thought would not raise suspicion. He paid the fair and added a more then generous tip. I paid to have people in the working class remember your face in conjunction to some economic kindness. You never knew when you might need a little help or where it might be found.

The cab drive thanked him profusely while Claus affected to look beneficent, then as soon as the driver left he turned and walked resolutely towards the slums. As he drew nearer he shrugged off his coat and turned it inside out. While the side he had been wearing out had been nice and stylish, the reverse side was worn and stained and appeared tattered in places. Claus slipped the coat on again and adjusted his posture from one of an arrogant Krew bourgeoisie to one of a humble, down-on-his-luck lower class. In this manner he might pass through the slums unmolested. Not that he could not handle himself, but he preferred not to have any incidents, besides he was already almost late.

The slums were a hodgepodge of old derelict apartment buildings and warehouses. Any number of gangs haunted these ruins of civilization, but by and large they did not mess with the bums and those so obviously worse off then they were. After several minutes walk he neared a point above the sewers that he knew was moderately close the EN headquarters and moseyed towards the nearest manhole cover.

"Hey pops!" a harsh and taunting voice rang out behinds him. "What you doing in our part of town here? Don't you know who you got to be careful out here?" the voice was board, it was looking for something to do, anything to do.

Claus turned around and presented a pair of milky eyes to the five or six teenagers that had just stepped out of an old apartment building. There was a pause as the kid who had spoken and his friends shifted uncomfortably.

"Eh? who's that then?" Claus's voice was suitably cracked and tired. Though he did not look like and old man, his voice and seemingly blind eyes did the trick.

"Come on," one of the boys muttered to his friends. The gang stalked off sheepishly.

Claus gave them a couple minutes then pulled out one of his metal cylinders and extended the spike. He found a likely manhole cover and used the spike to lever it up. He poked his head through the gap and looked down into the sewers. His contacts started to glow faintly, collecting all available light and projecting the scene below onto his retina. It was pretty dry bellow and already several metal panels were present. He was close. He propped the manwhole cover up with his spike then slid into the sewers, pulling his spike in with him and allowing the manhole cover to slam down overhead. He new his way vaguely enough from here, so he set off as a jog, turning his coat back right side out as he went.

Claus arrived at the meeting room a few minutes later and slipped in and grabbed a seat near the front just as things seemed to be about to get underway. He hoped this was going to be worth it. He had waited for a long time to strike out at the NA, and he hoped this would be his chance. He felt grim and his face showed it. his contacts had returned to there clear state now and he slouched down in his chair as Abel got up in front of the group.

"'ey girl," Brick was easily identifiable. He walked softly for such a big man, but the way he stepped was distinct nonetheless. Plus when he was sweaty, well, she could tell when he entered a room from that alone. Admittedly, he didn't smell bad really, except for the pervasive sewer smell that everyone wore. He didn't, for example, smell like Muse, the obnoxious Ghost who liked to jump into people's heads.

"Brick," She smiled and turned her head in his direction, "Where have you been?" She didn't expect an answer right away, instead just laying the question down like a friendly hug. Besides Abel was beginning to talk.

Vasha sent a mini-push through the room and turned her head when she'd determined where Abel was. He spoke with the every present uptilt in his voice, from her pushes she had figured out that it was a smile he wore as consistantly as it showed up in his voice. He began to play a video clip. Just a little, inside, Vasha thought video clips were stupid. Of course, the weren't pushable. She had even less idea what was happening. Luckily, this one had an announcer explaining exaclty what was going on: Axel was in town for the New Year.

As Abel laid out the plan, Vasha leaned forward in her seat. They were going to take over Krew and kill their leader's brother: the 'Bad Guy' as Abel so easily put it. Chuckles followed that label around the room like birds taking off. Vasha hadn't yet run any jobs for Encore, but she had been itching to. And here was one: everyone would be out, taking over Krew. On New Year, the symbolism to beginnings was nice.

"To put it simply... We're taking over the big city, and we're gonna' take down Axel Benedict." He paused letting it sink in. A sudden pump of fear slid through her. Vasha's brain spun, what was she going to do? Invading a city was huge. She rarely went new places, though that had changed recently. Practing with her pushes was all well and good, but on a real mission to infiltrated Krew would the practice really help that much? "Well then. Any questions about placement within the squad?"

"Yes," Vasha didn't put her hand up, she was still only learning the cues that most seeing people took for granted. She wasn't sure how to ask her question, but managed, "Will there be individaul assignments or will the squads be working together?"

As soon as she asked it, Vasha decided a smarter question would have been, 'will I be working with anyone?' But she held her tongue. It was still difficult to assert herself in a big group. What right did she have to say anything? There were so many of them. Abel would probably answer her question, even the unasked one. Or someone else would ask. She hoped.

Abel saw the lanky young man, looking very skeptical, in the front raise his hand right after Vasha finished talking. He did not wait to be acknowledged.

"Yeah, I second that question. How are we or you going to decide who we are going to be working with, or are we all on our own?" Claus asked then continued without pause. "and I don't mean to beat this horse but just so we are absolutely clear. We are planning on killing your brother? Like dead?"

The plan was huge. Forget anything Claus had been thinking about hurting the NA. This was a complete destruction of the government and restructuring. A nagging voice in the back of his mind asked him "then what?" He knew where that line of questioning would take him, and he resolved to push off thinking about that till later. He just had to believe that it would all work out right and that the toppling of the NA would bring about freedom from tyranny rather than chaos and disorder. It was just that he could see it all spiraling out of control so easily.

Man I am thinking the doom and gloom tonight. Its the new year, time for new years resolutions. I resolve to over throw the establishment and stick it to the man! Hahahah

Claus could feel his mouth about to get him in trouble and tried half-heartedly to stop himself. "because, no offense, but he is your kin and if we are all going to be putting it on the line to whack your little bro. I know this is all your plan. but I don’t want to risk my arse because you suddenly get an attack of brother love.”

Abel chuckled, hearing Vasha speak up. Now Vasha was special. She had a great power, but a great weakness as well. Blind, but a telekinetic. How it worked, he wasn't sure at first. In the beginning, when she came forth, and was found, he doubted she'd be useful.

But she was amazing.

"Well then love. It's a good question." He turned his eyes up to Claus, rolling the dark hues back to the blind Ghost Vasha.

"We will be undergoing both individual and group assignments. But you, my dear, are going to stay back. I'm not putting you the front line just yet. I'm holding you back until infiltration is complete. You are important to us dear. You'll be a very big influence on this mission."

He then turned his head, catching what Claus said.

Lyra scoffed to herself, pushing her fingers back through her auburn hair before folding her arms across her chest.

"Do you not understand that Encore is bigger than just this district? This isn't Abel's mission, this is the entire Encore goal!" She hissed. Muse stood up behind her, the lean and dark-haired man putting his hand over her mouth.

"She's got a point." Muse began, before Lyric grabbed his finger and bent it back, making him whip his hand away from her face.

"If we take down Axel, things'll be better for everyone. It'll be the first step to making the NA crumble. And with that, comes a hope only we can create." She said sternly. Her jade colored eyes rose over him, before she turned her gaze back to Abel; who was smirking- holding back a chuckle.

"Well..." Abel leaned forward, clapping his hands down on his knees, shaking his head with a big grin. "You're ass'll be mine if you don't step up for this Claus. Now..." He rose his head up and looked over everyone else, as he stood and rose to a height of 6 feet, clean.

"The rest of you will be in a squad together... Where-" Abel looked to the door and huffed, "where's that damn Tech of mine..." He muttered.


Lyra rolled her eyes- both in her usual agitation (caused mostly by Muse's invasive telepathy), and her understanding of Abel's emotion.



She already had a good idea that this was going to happen. And she was excited. But at the same time, she did have a knot in her stomach that warned her that this was going to be dangerous. All she could do was run her fingers down the handle of her sword strapped along her.

Muse stepped forward, settling himself two seats down from her, looking up at Abel.

"So what now?" He smiled.




Abel turned his head and shook a finger at the young Ghost.
"You don't shut-up, even when you're not talking." He joked. Abel narrowed his eyes and looked over everyone, smiling.

"Okay then. Partner up. You and your partner will go down to the Armory. You'll get the shit that's got your name on it, and then you'll all meet up at the Maverick; a bar hidden on the outskirts of the Slums. There, you will be given the first sub-mission, that'll lead you into the heart of the city of Krew."

Abel nodded his head to them.

"Now, pair up and get out."




As Lyric stood up, she stepped forward and moved away from Muse, brushing him off.
"Not you." She said sternly.


Abel halted her then, putting a hand on her back.

"Listen up Lyra, find yourself a partner, then hang back. Geez, I need you and your partner to wait for my Tech, and then go on to the Maverick. The Tech I've got is a cool kid, he'll be leading the missions. Okay?" Abel patted her once on the back before his large hand gave the lean woman a nudge forward, to usher her to find a partner.

Ugh.

She'd rather a partner find her.


"Oh, and Vasha. You'll be coming with me to begin personalized training. I'll talk to you all about that later."
Abel said softly. He then looked over the group and shook his hand in the air.

"Hurry up already!" He boomed, a raspy deep laugh erupting from him afterward.

Where the hell did I put the last one!?Everett feverishly ran around his workshop as he checked under the various workbenches for an electronic device. His boots clanked as he tread on the steel tiled floor as he flicked more light switches on to activate the suspended lamps that hung from the ceiling. The announcement for the meeting that was being held in Tunnel B’s discussion room boomed from the P.A. roughly ten minutes ago and his misplaced dilemma was giving him a headache.

He stopped in mid-dash and glanced down at a jumbled up group of extension cords that he could see no beginning to nor end as he bent down and tried to untangle them. Honestly? I am never lending anyone my cords again if this is the way they return them to me.He shook his head as he began lifting the cords to toss them aside when a thud landed between his feet. Looking down he saw the device he was looking for and dropped the cords to the side and quickly picked up the remaining piece and tossed it into his backpack and left his workshop.

The tunnels were loud as the turbines were working in the distance, howling and drowning out the thoughts Everett had for the forthcoming endeavour. There was a strange mixture of smells in the air that he hadn’t been quite able to put a finger on since his time here. It was definitely the standard feces, urine and blood that flowed through the murky waters of the sewers, yet there were other scents that eluded him. He hadn’t spent much time going over the blueprints Abel had given him since he was on such a tight deadline to mass produce the initial designed product he carried now in multitude in his pack. There would be time he was sure of it, it just meant less sleep and more coffee.

Rounding the next set of turns, he was in the familiar steel shaped pathways of the Encore Slums and passed by the encrypted markings coded in the language of the resistance as he finally reached his destination. Jogging into the room he saw that they had all been dismissed already and were preparing for the partnering process.

He saw Lyra amongst the people here and when he thought she was looking, he nodded to her and flicked a small wave her way. At the back of the room he spotted Abel and shamefully walked to him with his head shaking. “I am so sorry sir,” He extended his right hand for a handshake “but I needed to make sure that everyone of the members was going into this mission with the proper equipment.”

Vasha sat back in her seat. She was hanging back. She wasn't going into the city with everyone else. It was both a relief and a blow. She'd thought if she'd had a good partner, maybe she could have been brilliant. As Abel continued to answer questions, Vasha maintained an ear toward the plans and preparations but the vast majority of her energies were spent flipping little specks of dirt and mud et al (including the gross bits beneath their boots) across the floor. She felt a little like receding into wall paper. It wasn't hard to do with so many people around.

Abel spoke to her again, and Vasha lifted her head and turned it slightly to listen better. The room was beginning to pick up energy as more people began to nudge each other and speak out of turn like Lyra and Muse. The speaking out of turn had really bothered her at first. The assault of all the different voices on her ears had been confusing before she learned to separate what to listen to and what not to listen to. Someone had called it selective listening with a smirk in their voice.

Special training? Vasha stopped moving the floor trash around in funny patterns and paid attention. When he asked everyone to partner up, however, her face fell just a fraction. She'd hoped to be partnered up well, but now it seemed she would have special training with Abel. The thought was both exciting and heartbreaking. She felt left out. It was odd considered that she had never felt that way before. But training with Abel was also intimidating. What would she learn?

As he dismissed the room to partner up, the noise level popped to astronomical. So many things happening. Clothing rustling, weapons moving, feet shuffling voices rising and falling. And the smell of so many people moving around. It took her a minute to reorient herself and in the process sh sent out multiple pushes to get a frame by frame of the changing room. She supposed all she had to do was sit and wait. She was after all supposed to hang behind.

There was a long pause after the command to go forth and pair up, but eventually people started to move. Clause didn't blame anyone for hesitating. You could not expect a room full of mavericks to suddenly start working together easily because you said so- even if the someone was Abel. Claus was probably more sociable then any two others in the room yet even he hesitated at first. In a society that preached self reliance they had all learned their lessons well.

Claus slowly stood to his feet. He was not the first. Others had already begun to talk and form groups. Claus looked around the room through contacts that now flashed "LFG" in bright yellow lettering.

Well Vasha was off limits and so was Abel. Claus was not sure about the tech Everett. Was the tech staying at base or was he an operative as well? He did not know whether he liked the look of Muse or not. He seemed like he liked a good time but Claus wondered whether that fun included things like pulling the wings off flies. Claus also got the vibe that he would view a partner as a liability and not mind to much if they did not make it. Brick was a tank and seemed dysfunctional enough, but Claus doubted he knew the meaning of the word stealth. But then maybe stealth would not matter tonight.

Claus did not strike him from the list, but moved on. That left Lyric. She seemed pretty even keel and would not stand out too much in a crowed- a valuable trait to a thief. He had heard she was an assassin but she did not seem to fit all the dogma surrounding them.

For example there was always a presupposition that Ghosts were poor, tortured and unstable individuals, but that arose mainly form their common disabilities. Some of Clauses closest friends had been ghosts. There were a few nut-jobs but that went for thieves too, and assassins. Actually assassins were far more likely to cause trouble then ghosts. It took a special mentality to choose to kill people as a profession. Most of them were lone wolves of the silent, brooding, inner demon variety. Claus knew this assignment would probably be the hardest for them.

All the same he did not read any of that coming from Lyric. Years as a thief had taught him about ticks and tells and how to read people. She was an assassin, if his information was correct, and she seemed decent enough.

If Lyric saw him coming, she did not acknowledge it. He stepped in front of her and put on what he hoped was a winning smile. "What saw we partner up on this, eh? I figure together we could do the NA some real damage. What do you say?"

Brick was excited to say the least. They were going inside. They were going kill a lot of fuckin' people. They were going to strike a blow against their enemy. Against the people that had imprisoned him.

Standing, he loomed over most of the people in the room. Flexing slightly but stretching mostly he picked the ax up and hefted it. The weight made it feel sturdy, the balance was good, and it was enough for Brick. He wasn't skilled at fighting with blades but his strength and meanness made most fights even no matter the skill of the person he faced.

Tucking his pistol back into his waistband holster, he flicked the safety off, rolled the hammer back, and walked up to Able.

" 'ey boss, I'ma roll solo on this. I don't want no body wit' me." Brick stood close enough to Able so most people couldn't hear him and so he could discuss this with Able. He didn't want the burden of another person. He was a survivor, worrying about another person wasn't for him.

Vasha heard Brick get up and walk away without even a goodbye. As the room moved around her, people partnering up, she felt alone again. Not that she usually minded, but she was being held back for training. She felt a little bit of anger flair at the unfairness, but quickly dampened it. She was after all staying to train with Abel. But as she listened to the people around her, she lost faith in herself. It was because she wasn`t good enough. She`d be a liability.

Vasha began to push little scraps on the floor again. Unconsciously mapping out the things she had been working on in her room. She worked on trying to figure out the solution when she realized what she was doing. Abel had asked her to wait and she respected him enough to do that. But she wished she could leave. it had been so much easier on her own.

Vasha tried to sink into the floor and managed in accidentally denting her chair and sticking herself in the metal. "Fuck" she muttered and began pushing the metal to pull herself out.

Darius tried once again to count the passages he had taken, but his mental tally refused to stay stable in his head. Third left, second right... First right, then another two left turns... Shit, or was it three? Darius had to pause again and stared down the open sewer alley in front of him before twisting his head around to look back the way he had came. Silence save for the drip-drip-drip of condensation surrounded him and allowed one simple fact to become painfully obvious. "... I'm lost," his sure tenor rumbled and echoed down either side of his lonely little passage. "Awww, screw it all to Krew and back," he spit and turned around to follow his original path. The kid's first instincts were often right, and Darius could only hope that this was going to be the case.

"Rat maze, rat race. Fiund the cheese or lose your face," he muttered a moment later after taking his third left turn. Relief flooded his fair-skinned face the second he saw Encore's marker tagged on the wall, and he turned to follow it with a lot more pep in his step. Wandering around the slums was always bad enough, but doing it alone with a deadline hanging over your head never made it any easier. He only hoped he wasn't too late, but a glance at his watch won a low groan and a grimace. "Damn... Abel is going to kill me!" Off went Darius at a sudden run, his heavy boots pounding the ground round under his feet.

The sound of many voices drew his attention and helped him find the Discussion Room. A little short on breath with his padded jacket lightly mussed from a scrape against one wall, Darius skidded to a halt and glanced wide-eyed at those gathered around. Familiar faces were easy to find among the comrades that had gathered here, and he made sure to duck away from Abel's sight for a few moments just in case their leader would rag on him again for his lack of prompt punctuality. Darius didn't need a lecture about showing up on time, he needed to know what he had missed! Before he could move far from his spot, he heard Vasha's soft turns utter an oath, and seeing the girl almost literally stuck and sunk into her chair -almost- split his lips into a grin. Almost but not quite, but he did wander over to help.

"Don't tell me I'm tardy to the party already," he spoke low and stopped at her side, eyeing her dilemma. "C'mon and lemme help ya outa that. Maybe you can tell me what I missed while touring Encores more fragrant sewer hot-spots," he offered, not bothering to try for a smile. It wasn't like she could see it anyways.

Everett sat on the desk behind and waited while everyone found a partner. He was unsure what was going through the thought process of these people as he saw them conversing with one another, unsatisfied from the slightest of interactions, how they move from one to the next. It was like one of those single’s events where you had a minute designated to the people in the room and give each other a quick rundown of the facts like occupation, hobbies and so on, however in this case, the facts revolved around what they could do in a fight, how much of a liability the other would be and if they could trust the person with their life.

He wasn't sure who Abel would be pairing him up with and decided that there were very capable people here for carrying out the mission at hand. If Abel was putting his trust in these people, than so to could Everett. He leaned back and reached for his nap sack and stood up and began pulling out the items. They were his latest invention that Abel had him produce in quantity after he was pleased with the initial capabilities of the prototype. He had created a portable terminal that was able to display, receive and store any blueprints that were transferred onto its software. He wasn’t sure since he had never tested it but he was sure that once he had hacked an NA terminal, he would be able to download any information from that onto the gauntlets as well. He had also painstakingly wired a communication system that relied on unused radio frequency levels that the NA hadn’t blocked out.

Installed within each of the personal terminals was a unique frequency that varied from individual to individual. A dial was installed next to the flat 5” monitor that allowed the users to toggle thru frequencies before connecting to them. Accompanying this part of the tech was an earpiece that was able to decode the speech delivered over the frequencies as well as transmit the users own speech back. They were cylindrical in shape, with the center hollowed out to allow your arm to slide through with a series of screws that allowed you to tighten or loosen the fitting of it.

He peered up from his inventions and looked at Abel, “Ready when you are sir,” He looked back to the crowd with a wry smile as he saw most of them were staring at him and trying to figure out what he was tinkering with on that desk.

As Vasha groaned over the predicament she'd shoved herself into, footsteps approached, quiet. The walk was proper. The footsteps stopped next to her. Distracted, Vasha quit pushing the metal out and turned her head to listen to the quiet voice that went with the footsteps. The words were precise, not spoken with a slum slur.

"Don't tell me I'm tardy to the party already," Darius. She thought. She wasn't sure though. He was tall and slim. With a little push, Vasha was able to begin mapping his face just a little. Definitely Darius then. It fit with the near perfect pronunciation and speaking patterns. Her lips curled slightly; the smile didn't reach her eyes. No smile, he didn't smile at her, ever. It was odd. Maybe that was just him. Every so often she sensed humor beating beneath his words but it never quite hit the surface. Kind of like the oil in a dead engine. It wasn't her most graceful moment.

"Of course you're tardy." She whispered bad temperedly. He was another ghost, though his talents lay along electrical impulses. Part of her--the part that tinkered with machines--would have given alot to have his talent instead. It was probably so much easier. Though he didn't seem to have great people skills either, not like Abel in any case. But she would have bet that the energy spoke to him and told him what he needed to know. She'd never ask.

She pushed again and knew he was looking at her, stuck to the chair. Cheeks flaming she opened her mouth to give a retort; it would have been weak. She could never think of the right thing to say to him. Was she supposed to be sour back? Was she supposed to be nice when he was just scraping the formalities? Instead, he beat her to it.

"C'mon and lemme help ya outa that. Maybe you can tell me what I missed while touring Encores more fragrant sewer hot-spots," He was going to try and help her out. She froze. Oh, stars. She didn't need help; not from him. He was almost as annoying as Muse--putting thoughts in your head and reading yours--but she could avoid Muse. Muse was stuck on Lyra. But Darius insisted on being polite, if not personable.

"I don't need help," Vasha pushed on the chair a little hard in her hurry to not be help. "I'm fine," the metal chaire broke across the floor into two bent pieces like a fortune cookie and she fell onto it, the fortune. Fortune say: Yes, a liability.

"Of course you're tardy. I don't need help, I'm fine."

Vasha won a raised eye-brow from the aristocratic-looking youth. Darius' bemusement would have been obvious even to the blind girl as he watched her bend her chair in tween and plop down into the middle of the remains. The younger ghost managed to crack a soft smile at that, but it was more from innocent amusement than seeing her in obvious trouble. A little bit of irony never hurt anyone, did it? "Well, give me a hand then," he started once more. Darius' smooth and cultured tones dipped down an octave in volume as the excited chatter around them grew. "What's got everyone buzzing like an exposed main? No body's gotten this excited since Everett shorted all the waste stations to run backwards."

Speak of the devil, there was the tech in question standing across the way chatting up Abel. Again Dar slipped aside a step to try and stay out of the older man's line of sight, all to save himself from another lecture about proper timing. The hacker looked busy, but Darius vaguely remembered something he had to tell the tech... The heavy weights at his belt reminded the ghost, and Darius dropped a hand to his waist to check for both auto-pistols he kept stowed there. One of the damn weapons had jammed up again and the ghost needed to have it whacked once more into working order before he lost track of the tech.

Even though his blue eyes scanned the crowd, his attention didn't wander away from Vasha in the least. That would have been rude, and honestly embarrassing if the blind girl had caught him staring off into nothingness. "And when was the last time Abel got so many assassins and Ghost's mixed up under one roof? We've never had a mixed briefing." Trust the kid to keep a shrewd eye on anything uncharacteristic. Bering summoned had been a surprise, but to see such a large group gather was almost unprecedented. At least to Darius.

Vasha rolled onto her knees, but didn't get up immediately. Nor did she listen too close or push for information about him. Sometimes it was convenient to be blind. If you couldn't see, you didn't have to worry about other people so much. It was something she'd noticed in the overload of paying attention to so much. Ignoring was a power all it's own.

"We haven't had any mixed briefings, but then it hasn't been the new year either." Rising to her feet, Vasha did push on the chair. It's pieces were fowled and to fix it would take a mess of work. Not hard but busy. Leaving things broken was not her MO. But a chair cracked in haste would not go smooth easy. The metallic tang of the break smelled salty, stale, and hard.

"Axel is in the city. We're going--you're all going in to kill him." She leaned down and picked up one piece of the chair anyway, turning it over and examining the shape with her fingers and her pushing. The edges were sharp.

"The mixed briefing is to choose partners. I think we're--you're supposed to pick, well," she finally turned her face and attention towards him, just once, though her eyes remained downcast. She pushed and caught the amusement on his face, dropping her attention back to the chair, Vasha finished, "not another ghost."

Abel had too much to look at in that room. First off, had to be the blind telekentic who seemed independent, but wasn't making it out of a metal chair too easily. See, Abel had a fondness for her, because her gift was almost like his brother's. She had a great deal of potential. A great deal of possibility. Her strength was one that could save or destroy. And he wanted it to do both.
That's why he had claims on her. See, Abel had a great secret that not many knew. And pairing that with Vasha's abilities would mean a great weapon could be born.

He turned his head and looked over at Everett, the team Tech. He'd be helping out everyone as soon as they got to the Maverick. Once all the partnered groups reached that desolate little
rendezvous point, the partners would reassemble into an infiltration force. Abel took in a deep breath and shook his head almost carelessly, a smile creeping up on his lips as he raised his arm and waved it softly.

"Hurry up kid. We ain't got forever. New Year'll be over by the time you shits are done. And by the way.." Abel turned a keen eye over to everyone and huffed out a sigh. "We ain't having some kind of tea party. You aren't looking for a dance partner kids. Picking time is up."

Lyric turned her head, spotting Muse and then turning away. The woman sighed, reaching up and brushing her slender pale fingers through her auburn hair. This was going to be a pain in the ass. Maybe someone can kill of Muse, and at least make her life simpler. She shook off the words floating in her head before Muse could reach out and catch them, and retort something crude to her mentally that would easily piss her off. She had Muse down to a science.

Abel glanced around the room, standing with a stern posture; shoulders back, head up, chest out and feet planted firmly. As was his way, he never let anyone see him slump or slouch. The General might be a bit of a goofball, but everyone there knew he had a serious side, and a battle-hungry fighter in him- a flame to his soul that could light any darkness. The man was a savior to many. Abel raised his hand to his chin, stroking the bit of stubble there as he pondered over partners.

"Darius. You're with Lyric, watch out for my Techie." He nodded his head over towards Ev, eyes rolling over to spot him.

"Claus... You're with Muse. You two don't but heads, or..." He spotted Muse and rolled his eyes. "Just behave yourselves." He then looked elsewhere. "Brick requested to do this alone. I can respect a soldier for wanting to go into battle alone. But Brick, if something happens to you, you might learn to respect the buddy system. The point of a partner is to help you out in a sticky situation. Just because we claim the Slums doesn't mean they're gonna' be kind to us... You'd do good to remember that, but I'm sure it's a lesson you've already learned."

Abel took in another long breath and sighed.
"What's left?" He whispered to himself. "Well Vasha, I thought about taking you back for my purposes... But I change my mind. I can't sit here and let you guys have all the fun. Vasha, you're my partner."


Lyric sighed, grateful that she didn't have to put up with Muse's invasive antics, and that she had the two boys, Ev and Darius, to deal with. Everett was a friend of hers, and though she thought him a bit odd at times for his impassable skill with technology, he was a good man. Good with his hands, good with math too probably. Smart. And Darius, well... She didn't know a whole lot about Darius. But he was a Ghost, and supposed to be a pretty badass one from what she'd heard before.

Lyric smiled softly with relief and looked over at Abel.

"May we head out sir?" She said in her solemn tone, with a hint of excitement peering through.

"No." Abel said, as though the question were superfluous and the answer was rhetorical. He stepped over towards Everett and patted the man on the back, his broad hand smacking between Everett's shoulder blades with a quite audible 'clap'. "Hahaha, we've got more to do! Everyone, Everett's got us some toys, and when all is done with Everett, you won't be waiting on me. Go outside. Begin on your way to the Maverick on the merger between Krew and the Slums. It'll be more towards the Slums than anything else, but it'll be where we prepare."

Abel smiled, looking over at Vasha.

"And you little missy..." He shook his head, walking over towards her. "Next time I'd rather you not destroy my chairs. That, or I'll get you a nice comfy one like mine, and we won't have to worry about it." He chuckled quietly and put his hand on her arm, a small and simple gesture, before removing it. It was like his version of a pat on the back- which was also his signature greeting- for the blind girl.

Abel turned and folded his arms over his chest and waved a hand for Everett to begin.

Everett tried to hide his grimace from the unexpected pat on the back Abel gave him as he readjusted his collared work shirt before speaking. “Right, uh, for all of those that don’t know, my name’s Everett. I’ll be accompanying you guys once we reach the Maverick and from there, provide you with intel. Speaking of which, I whipped up these little doo-hickey’s for everyone that’s on this mission.” He stepped off to the side and waved a hand over the display on the table.

“Communicators, they will be the life blood of our operation. If you at any time damage, misplace, stick in a microwave and so on, you will not be receiving a replacement. Treat these as if they were your child,” He paused and thought about the relative ease in procreation as opposed to the labour he put into these devices. “Just, whatever, don’t break the damn things ‘cause you’ll be stranded out there without one, making you a liability to yourself and to the Encore.”

With a communicator in each hand, he tossed them about to the partners. He watched as everyone studied them and began fiddling with them. “It slides over your wrist and you can adjust it on your forearm as you see fit. The screen is touch navigated, allowing you to scroll through the maps and layouts that have been installed within it. If everyone can tap on the Maps tab, it’ll bring you an alphabetical archive of any maps. We’ve got the Slums in there, these sewers and the path to the Maverick laid out. Periodically, when I come across new information I’ll be able to upload new schematics to you guys.

I’ve also taken the liberty of installing our communications within these. Basically, we’ve all been pre-assigned a radio frequency that can be contacted through the radio application you see on the bottom left hand side of the screen. Anytime you need to call someone up, go into the radio menu and you’ll be presented with a list of stored members.” He reached into his bag once more and brought out the earpieces that accompany his communicators. “Take these; you’ll be able to pick up the frequency from one another. I’ve only been able to allow for one on one conversation to take place, so don’t tie up someone’s line for too long.” He rolled up his sleeve and applied his own communicator and fastened it. The others followed suit as he gazed around. “So, I expect to see everyone at the Maverick. Roll out when ready.”

He packed up his gear and slung the bag over his shoulder. He was content with the placement of Lyric within his party not only for familiarity purposes but he knew he had a strong and accomplished fighter in her. She was cold to most and really, being a woman in this battle; few saw her as an equal let alone ready to admit she was great. He wondered maybe this was why she was able to tolerate him.

As for the other member assigned with his squad, Everett wasn’t too familiar with Darius. He had heard he was a Ghost and had a real knack for the battlefield. Some of them got squeamish at the first sight of a lost limb but the likelihood of Darius to take one rather than lose one was most likely why he was the right fit for Abel’s infiltration operation.

Everett was filled with optimism that the operatives would be able to deliver a blow to the NA, he just hoped his leadership would carry them through.

"Well Vasha, I thought about taking you back for my purposes... But I change my mind. I can't sit here and let you guys have all the fun. Vasha, you're my partner."

Vasha's mouth opened a little as she listened. She would be Abel's partner? Her fingers tightened on the piece of chair that she held. Holy freaking Krew. A grin stretched across her face, she was going out to fight. She wasn't quite sure what she was going to do but if Abel was her partner, maybe she could do anything.

She pushed across the room briefly to catch Abel's smile. The push caught Darius next to her as well. Her brow wrinkled, she needed to learned to narrow her push field. The young ghost beside her had been very focused on not being seen by someone before, but now it seemed perhaps he didn't mind. He was going to be partnered with Lyric. She hoped he liked it, sort of. She really wasn't sure how she felt about him, being all obnoxious as he was. Team member, she thought, he was part of Encore, that meant team. Of course she hoped he liked it, that's what team was. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

Abel mentioned that Everett had toys and Vasha wondered what they were. Probably nothing for her. She hadn't been expected to go. Then Abel walked over. If his steady footfalls and deep voice were not enough to identify him, Abel reached over and put a hand on her arm. It was a touch, barely a hold. But he had always done that, the very same one. A smile turned Vasha's lips, that was Abel.

"And you little missy...Next time I'd rather you not destroy my chairs. That, or I'll get you a nice comfy one like mine, and we won't have to worry about it."

She smiled. "Don't know if I can make that promise, sir" she mocked gently and lifted a hand and crossed the air over her heart. "But I can certainly try." As she said that she pushed the chair next to her that Brick had been sitting in, it bumped against Darius; not hard enough to cause damage but hard enough. "Oops." Vasha turned her head up to Abel, with a twinkle of false innocence, "Does this mean I get a soft chair?"

Everett was handing out the communications and as she listened to him describe what each one was capable of, Vasha felt herself sinking into the frustrations of being blind. The screen had maps and lists of members to call . . . all of which she could not see. Grateful as she was, the device was next to useless to her without sight. She fitted it to her wrist anyway and ran her fingers over the face. What was she going to do? Say 'sorry, I'm blind' She huffed a giggle and pushed the device around on her wrist.

"Darius. You're with Lyric, watch out for my Techie."

Darius' mad-man blue eyes instinctively slid over the members of his own small squad as they were called out in turn and tried his best to keep some small amount of smug satisfaction off his severe-featured face. He knew Lyric by reputation only, but it was the sort of rep that was a little too detailed to be make-believe. She's a shadow, I hear. And good at killing... A moment later and a small smirk curled a single corner of his lips upwards. Then again so am I, even if we're like apples and oranges. Abel isn't messing around when he says we have to keep the techie in one piece. Darius didn't seem to mind the added responsibility of 'tech-sitting'; if Abel expected him to keep up with Lyric, then the Ghost wasn't going to mess it up.

Darius forced his vocals away from his usual clear pronunciation and affected his own attempt at the Slum's accent. It was bad enough that the young man had come from completely different roots than most others of Encore, and he didn't like announcing that over the open air with his 'Top-Side' vocabulary. "Nice little toy yeh got 'ere, Ev," he said to the tech as the man passed him his communicator. Darius held it up in front of him and ran his fingers along the outer edge of the small screen. Small static shocks and pops sparked between the device and his fingertips as Dar explored the inner circuitry with his unique ability. "My only question is how much juice these things can take before they fry out." Darius doubted the fore-arm mounted gizmo would appreciate being strapped to a human superconductor for any amount of time; more incentive for the young Ghost to lessen the drain on his brain. "Not that I think I'd need to use this thing for some live-wire ammunition, but..." The kid could only shrug helplessly and left the rest hanging in the air.

Abel laughed quietly at Vasha's comment, staring up at the table towards Everett's devices. His eyes rolled over everyone there and a smile crawled over his lips. He slid past Vasha and moved towards the table, picking up one of the Tech's devices and putting it on his arm. Then he had the earpiece, which slid into his ear with ease.

"Very nice." Abel said to himself, chuckling as he turned back to everyone. "All right kids, this is it! Grab yourselves one of these, and head out!" Abel boomed. He turned towards Vasha, and smiled, waving his hand at the blind girl. "Come with me Vasha, we're going to go packin', then we'll head out. The rest of you should be armed and ready." Abel reached for Vasha, his large leather hand gently on her arm again. Then, he began to walk, leading her out of the room and down the hall; into an armory for 'packin'.

Lyric nodded as Abel left, moving to the table and picking up her communicator, hooking it onto her arm and putting the earpiece in. She looked back at Darius and Everett and smiled, checking to make sure that she had everything she was going to need for herself. She turned for the door and raised her hand, waving it.
"Why wait?"

Muse moved with a slight air of arrogance over to the table, picking up one of the devices and putting it on. He brushed his hand through his dark hair after putting the ear piece in, and looked over at Claus.

"So you're a thief? I think you're the only one in the this entire division." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll be glad to see what you can do." He winked at the man and grabbed a cloth vest off of one of the chairs. It was his, but he had left it here from meetings before. He hooked it on and took his pistol from his pocket and hooked it on the side of his hip. He too, followed towards the door of the Discussion room, and headed out into the hall...





Team 1:

Lyric had moved through the tunnels, alongside her team, and they had made it to the manhole near the South way. She crawled up the ladder and popped open the thing, stepping out into the night. It was very young, and they had a lot of time to work tonight. Around her, the Slums didn't look so bad- just abandoned and a little ratty. Maybe it didn't look so bad because she was so use to it.

The buildings rose tall, many cracked and dusted in age. Some had vines wrapping around them, holes in the windows. The street stretched plan before them, the yellow lines now tapering marks against the gray stone, disheveled and cracked here and there. The sidewalks held bits of trash and crushed or toppled waste bins, with shattered pieces of glass scattered around the area. The road looked like an easy travel, but don't be deceived so early...

"So Darius." Lyric said, looking at Everett as she began to walk forward, turning her eyes to the Ghost. "I haven't seen you around much. Does Abel keep you locked up?" She joked quietly, looking over the buildings with a keen eye, wary of trouble.



Team 2:

The manhole leading to the Back Alleys was a bit eroded, but it worked none the less- regardless of rust. It lead straight into the heart of the darkness. It lead to a small alley, sheathed in darkness with small buzzing dull lights lining the long brick walls of nearby establishments. The ground was littered with cigarette butts and bullet shells. The air reeks of smoke, and the whispers of drug dealers and criminals lurk near.

Here and there, you can hear footsteps shuffling back and forth.



Team 3:

The manhole leading up to the Red District was harder to lift. Atop it were chunks of cement. When it finally budged, it flipped aside, dumping the wreckage weighing it down. Crawling out, one could take in the actual destructive look of the place. The road was shattered and layered in odd layers of pavement shelves. The buildings were lined with white paper over the walls and plastic taped over the windows. Here and there you could see yellow tape lined around street signs and posts, or around the ground itself. Potholes are everywhere and sometimes you can find yourself stray tools or keys to things yet unknown...

Muse found the place quite interesting, stepping out one time before getting his foot stuck between two shelves of the hellishly broken street.

"Ah shit.." He groaned, yanking his leg up and stepping onto a flat platform. He turned and looked around, realizing how desolate this place was. The settled saw dust and clay, the smell of stone and metal stirring with decay.

"This place is creepy." Muse chuckled, looking back at Claus. "Hope you can manage all these damn holes and shit... I've got a feeling I'm going to lose a leg around here..."



Team 4:


Abel and Vasha had scrounged through the armory, gathering Abel's two pistols (.45 Revolvers) and his longsword- a blade both hefty and long. After that, he'd given Vasha the option of weaponry and armor, and moved through the underground for their destination; the manhole to the Boulevard.

Abel easily moved the manhole cover, crawling up onto the street. He reached down into the sewer tunnel, and grasped Vasha- pulling her up like she were a feather. Once she was up, he pushed the manhole cover back into place with his boot. His hand fell on her arm as he looked around.

The Boulevard had tall buildings; the look of a once popular place. Hover-cars littered the street, collected in sandy clay dust and debris. The sidewalks were littered with street vendors and tented shops. Along the road, carts and boxes could be seen. It was a bit of a maze in appearance, but was a basic straight path.

"You ready to go Vasha?" Abel said, stepping over a box of steel plates and moving his hand down her arm until he had her hand. "Come on, follow me carefully. This place is a mess." Abel said in a low baritone whisper. The man waited for her to follow that bit, and then continued forward, etching slowly through the maze of the abandoned hot-spot.

Brick stood with his arms across his chest. Watching the mechanics of how everyone interacted. The communication devices seemed pretty important. Moving through the crowd Brick grabbed his arm and ear piece. Than Darius spoke. It was the first time Brick had paid any real attention to him.

"Hey, Darius, do us all a favor. Don' act like you come from the Slums." Brick smiled and headed for the armory. He needed to get some more things.

Walking in the place was full of an assortment of weapons. Swords, pistols, a few other things. Brick grabbed a few extra magazines for his Sig Sauer pistol and a micro Uzi with two 30 round clips. He slipped these items on his person and left the armory. He walked down the sewers to where he would reenter the slums.

The alleys of the Slum were home to Brick. He had survived there for years. The smell of smoke, drugs, and death was normal. The shadows allowed him to move down towards where he needed to go. The ER had a predetermined meeting place.

The fiends and drug dealers didn't see the assassin move. If they had, most would walk the other way or act like they didn't see him.

Brick's methodical movements made him slowly slip into a trance. His mind wandered like always. He thought about this night, his time spent in the work camps, and his life here in the slums. In one night all of that could change. His place in society would change from being street scum assassin for Encore to a hero. How would that be?

In Brick's mind it was funny how perception changed things. To him and the people of the ER they were freedom loving people. They wanted to change the world for the "better" for the "good". What about the people on the other side. They saw the ER as rebels, a threat. At the end of this night he would be dead, that was a great possibility, or he would be a hero.

Brick paused coming from his thinking. He raised his forearm and clicked the unit a few times. The map showed he was coming up on the place he needed to be. Dropping his arm he switched hands with his ax and moved on.

Fuckin' a, happy new years!

The scattered and trashed setting seemed to suit Darius much better if one could judge by the low sigh of relief he heaved as soon as they left the sewers. The tunnels didn't sit well with the young Ghost for some reason, something about being surrounded by so strong an insulator as solid earth. He much rather preferred the air open over his head, but that didn't mean he could really relax. Darius moved into position behind Everett and Lyric, letting the assassin lead the way while he kept close to the tech and kept his six under both careful blue eyes. The ghost scanned the scene with just more than his eyes, he kept his senses tuned for the strange flickers he sometimes felt from an unseen individuals brain.

"Mmmm?" he blurted and blinked in surprise, somewhat taken off guard by Lyric's soft joke. It took him a second, but he cracked a small smile soon enough. "Yeah, he's been a stickler about keeping me on a curfew. Nine o'clock or I'm grounded for a week," he jibed right back easily enough. "Actually, he's kept me busy in Upper Crust Krew. Seems like some of the better-offs up there wanted to see about buying their own security teams. Home protection kind of stuff," he explained in a low voice. "Abel wanted to know who else was going to be packing some serious heat around this city... He shouldn't have worried. The NA saw to stopping that." Effective and brutal. How else could you run a military regime?

Darius stopped talking for a moment and rested his hand against a bare and cracked wall. Despite how run-down the surrounding city was, the tingle of electrical activity still pulsed around them as alive as ever and lent Darius some extra comfort and courage; at least he wasn't cut off completely. "So Everett, you never answered me. How much juice am I gonna have to be pushing to fry this thing out?" After another moment he tried again. "Better question. How much can this thing fry before you're whacking me over the head to save the circuits from screaming?" he asked, waving his mounted communicator with a smirk. Darius suspected that if worse came to worse he could at least use the complicated device for some extra juice if the going got rough. He also suspected that the tech would gut him for wasting his hard work on some sparks and shocks.

As Abel lifted Vasha out of the Sewers the air whooshed by her face and brought with it a different set of smells. Not necessarily any sweeter, but it wasn't the sewer smell. She immediately sent a little push outward and noted the abundance of abandoned hovercars, junk, and other obstacles. A breath of air stire the hair around her face; it brought with it the smell of decay that permeated everything in the slums. Under Vasha's feet the sidewalk was pitted, she remembered the first time she had ventured out of her home alone. The holes in the sidewalk were patterned like the ridges on the roller of a music box. The melody had been her fear and barely concealed grief. Now the melody had changed.

Abel's hand drifted down her arm to her hand. Most times she apprerciated his familiar touch and easy guidance. He was steady and anticipated her blindness without making her feel broken. Once in a while, his easy acceptance and accomidation was so like her father that she found it difficult to breath.

"You ready to go Vasha?"

"Yes," she replied and pushed on their surroundings some more. Her blindness would not compromise her on this mission, she thought; she would not let it. As she pushed she built maps of the tall buildings in her mind. She made note of the holes in the abandoned buildings where an assassin could be located. She made note of any movement her pulsing pushes encountered. Briefly, it occurred to her that the rhythmic pushing could become annoying or worse, visible. She lowered the strength of the pushes and continued to map.

"Come on, follow me carefully. This place is a mess." Abel's deep quiet words caused a vibration in the air. Vasha touched her left forefingers to her gun and then the ear piece from Everett. She sent up a tiny prayer for them all.

"Ok." The first steps through the maze that her pulses were revealing to her sent a cloud of dry clay dust into the air. The dust was fine and quickly coated the exposed skin of her hands and face. Not a new feeling, but not a pleasant one either. Vasha's pushes revealed a small person--a child? peering out of a window at Abel and she as they moved from cover to cover. She listened and stayed close to Abel, copying his posture and pushing where he looked. She heard the child shuffling as they passed and felt a stab of compassion. This was why they were sneaking across the slums to kill Abel's brother.

The night’s cool air danced across the back of Everett’s neck as it kissed the sweat that rested there. He was nervous and anxious as his group had emerged from the sewers; wary of any possible NA scouting teams and going over the intangibles that could impede them from reaching the Maverick.

The streetlights flickered on and off, casting suspicious shadows that taunted the trio as they walked through the desolate streets. Pages of newspapers blew across Everett’s feet as they paused at an abandoned concrete building. Lyric and Darius were exchanging dialogue, part of which Everett was listening to, while his main focus was on his layout of the surrounding area. His maps showed that it was a fairly direct route which meant simplicity in navigating but the high rise buildings he saw that dotted the path signaled possible vantage points for being detected. Everett found Darius’ experience in Krew to be fairly fascinating and beneficial. Perhaps if they came around to any equipment, he would have some knowledge to the operating mechanics of it.

Darius spoke up, asking what the electrical threshold was for the communicators to which Everett paused from scanning the area to address him. “Oh, right, you’re the Ghost with the electric capabilities. Maybe I should’ve insulated your equipment beforehand.” He thought aloud as he considered the modification plans in his mind. “I don’t know how much you can pump out but the devices can maintain around 1400 watts, so, just take it easy when you feel like being a walking bug-zapper with it on alright?” He smiled at Darius before turning his attention back to the streets.

“If we just continue along this side of the street and continue eastward, we’ll get there with as little exposure to the main road.” He pointed straight to the block ahead, “We’ve got the buildings down the street there with the over hanging canopies right?” He looked back to make sure Darius and Lyric saw them, “Stay below them and use the cover they give as best we can.” He nodded and began to progress towards their destination.

Claus felt himself sink into thief mentality. Some part of himself never left that corner of his brain and now he followed it back into the shadows. He felt the ground beneath him, adjusting his weight and posture so as to make as little noise on the grit, dirt, and loose rubble. Immediately his eyes darted to trace paths through his immediate surrounding that would avoid unwanted observation.

Claus did a quick scan of the area with his contact lenses, looking for any kind of trap sign or electric observation devices. The area around him was expansive, however, and Claus knew he would probably miss anything less than obvious at this range. He did not detect anything significant, and set about trying to decide how to proceed.

For the most part this area seemed safe. Tall half-completed and empty building shells loomed over them blotting out the sky with their size, yet letting in the light by their skeletal nature. It felt like a ghost town, but Claus liked ghost towns. By their very nature ghost towns were empty, and thieves did not like a lot of company. The hard part, like Muse said was going to be getting through here without having some kind of accident.

Claus un-slung his pack and started pulling out various pieces of metal. One looked like a gun stock, complete with trigger, while another look like a long hollowed soda can with little ridges running down the inside. Other pieces came out and in a matter of a minute Claus had assembled what looked vaguely like the miniature offspring of a sniper and crossbow union.

“My vote says we stay to the streets as much as possible.” Claus grimaced. “As much as I hate being so exposed, the lower we stay the less distance we have to fall should something fall apart underneath us.” He hefted the gun-thing in his hands. “If we come across anything we can’t go around, we can use this.”

With that he re-shouldered his pack and started picking his way towards where his wristband said the meeting place was. This was going to be a long walk. Already Claus could see, father up ahead, several of the prefab, artificial steel walls construction companies used to block of streets off. He simply hoped that there were alleys and side streets that would allow them to circumvent the obstacles.

(ooc note: The gunlike thing Claus has is his rail launcher with the barb and microfilament line.)