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Post by Lunapocalypse on Mar 18, 2010 5:30:01 GMT -5
The Luxor casino is a modern day pyramid. The inside is full of slot machines, blackjack tables, and poker tables. It is rumored that this casino is run by the Mafia.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 18, 2010 23:00:06 GMT -5
Episode 3 Egypt for Okelahoma [/b][/size][/center] Where is the Luxor? Easily answered after you ask: What does the Luxor look like? From there you just need to find the big, black pyramid sticking out of the rest of the architecture. Ashleigh saw it more often than once; it was very much impossible to not see it. Even if you close your eyes, spin three times, and point in a random direction you'd be fairly accurate. Whether luck was involved in the process would be determined after arrival. Ash was eager to gun it all the way, but a police cruiser zooming towards a location of potentially high para-military presence probably wasn't the smartest move. The Muse flanked the entire building, which was difficult considering getting around to the backside also required bypassing around another two casinos. It was faster than picking an exit off the Freeway though, no complaining was done. "Is there any chance we could do that after I've shot Derrick in the face?" Ash queried Thomas' suggestion of knocking over the casino in the process, "The more time used up increases the odds of him getting the slip..." she groaned. They didn't really need the cash, it would be nice to add a couple'a hundred million to their kitty; it would add up to extra weight though. Breaking in and nicking the dosh would have to be done after Brass had been whacked. Lines of light reached to the sky and combined to emit one huge beam piercing the rain, clouds and darkness of the night, "Start switching video feeds," the hind side of the building was in fact as exposed as all hell and the block South of Hacienda avenue connected up giving thousands of civilians passage directly over the top of where they'd be entering, "Oh man... this is going to be such a cluster f*ck," Ash rubbed her head generating a million and one ways of how everything could go horribly wrong, "The fuzz'll have their hands full with this one. The Excalibur and Monte Carlo would probably shut down... even the freeway out back's gonna be blocked off," one thing her cerebrum didn't generate were a million and one ways of how they could escape. Cars jam packed the hind parking lot, the cruiser strolled right around the block of some delicious/mostly PoS vehicles and further into the lower freight garage. Thomas had been right, only one guard; but he had been geared up to all measures, perhaps because of the lack of personnel for the rear quarter of the property. The black and white cruiser rolled up to the gate, the riot-suited guard stepped out of the night box beside it curious as to why a police cruiser was rocking up to the freight station. "Can I help you offis--"The window was already down halfway, Ash half poked her head out surprising the man. A black cylinder popped out as well pointing roughly at the mercs neck. CA-THACK He'd seen it. He'd been unable to do anything about it. The iron clad soldier fell back into his box, blood spatter covering one of the windows leaving a gory enough scene to pass as a carrier assault. Ash handed Yasmin back to Thomas and hopped out of the neutral cruiser. She hit the lever for the gate twice and hard making it open double time, the roaring rain hid the squeaks and clanging metal easily. The cruiser didn't wait for it to open, once there was a big enough gap Ash maneuvered around and through. The Gunslinger and Technomancer descended into the empty freight bay, their operation officially in motion.
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Jun 27, 2010 6:55:15 GMT -5
/./A paralyzing copper gaze moved between standing objects in motion to it's right and the soft light-emitting diode display before it. A nervousness became the Technomancer; typically, his role in any 'IRL' work would be limited to a remote location, able to cloak his presence from any and all. A specter wireless. In retrospect, encasing his ASUS in an ultra-lightweight fiberglass and glass polymer shell was not a tactical choice. He never would have dreamed in all the nights of his sleep that he would be facing adversaries in battle with I.R.I.S. out in the open. The panic drew unto him as naturally as unsecured data. Not so much a concern was his body, but his tech certainly needed to be protected. A conclusion was drawn after considerable deliberation took place among his stray thoughts. The only way to protect one's possessions was to eliminate all threats. Yasmin would see blood split tonight. Speaking of which: the rain had seriously begun to drop on their heads. The cruiser was obscured with the swell of rain, hiding even better the effects of the poorly-faked Black And White. Skies above blazing with heavenly gray clouds, weeping for the men who would not live to see the next rise of the sun. Bright flashes of lightning illuminated the neon-infused streets to a greater extent. But the night was calm, unforeboding. Yes, the skies were wild with elemental fury, but the night air swayed only lightly. It was beautifully distracting for anyone who had a sense for the night.
What lovely weather for a two-man low-level instance.
Of the two, the most well-suited class for the job was in fact the Gunslinging Muse. She had plenty of exp., a wide set of skills, and tactical knowledge that would probably keep her Support-Class Technomancer out of harms way. Adversely, Thomas would keep eyes, ever watchful, from seeing the attack preemptively, and cause other Environmental changes to keep the odds in their favor. Welcome to Vegas, baby. Your luck is what you make of it, and Thomas hacked his Luck well over nine thousand.
The entire trip had Thomas watching multiple tabs and windows on his ASUS, keeping an eye on their location via VZ Nav from his phone, live video feeds from The Luxor's lulzy security system, and running over schematics of the layout over and over again. The floor plans, along with the individual guard's positions, their suspected movement, pats, and perceived ability to handle a stressful situation like what Technomancer was going to drag them through, Thomas laid out a path for them to take, the entire way slicing down the numbers of Velocity and tagging necessary and important locale. It was imperative that Thomas vandalize and sabotage the casino in such a way as to lead the authorities to believe I. The Luxor was being used as a covert-and-defunct Umbrella stronghold, or II. Affiliation with local gangs, or mobs, that would throw them into very very deep waters. This entire operation would be for naught if any trace would be left for the 5-0 to find that would lead back to The Shop. His duties stacked.
As his fingers danced across the micro-keyboard and touchkey, swathing a digital path through the luxurious Casino Hotel, it came into view. That magnificent spotlight fixed within the top of The Luxor firing into the clouded sky, as if to beckon survivors to one of the last havens of Post-Zombie America. The somewhat-less-frightened citizens bustling quite busily, seeking refuge from the deluge. All manner of exotic vehicles, no doubt a good deal of them boosted from Cali during the initial outbreak, dotting the strip. Copper hues pulled themselves from the tantalizing glow of I.R.I.S.' LED screen, soaking in and relaying information at breakneck speeds. There were few vehicles he could hack, considering any high-profile roadster or coupe would be equipped with an uncompromisable GPS location relay. Taking a backdoor out to a Lambo or Porsche would not happen anytime soon.
Without his usual tentative attention drawing conclusions towards Thomas and Ash pulling into the Luxor's sunken docking stations, his body heard Ash asking Thomas for Yasmin. Non-hesitantly, Thomas unequipped the lovely black Kriss from his waist, plopping the firearm into Ash's lap. She notified the Technomancer to begin the wireless bombardment. This was it...
Without going into too much detail, he opened a command prompt for the user station inside. His disguise was easily the most clever he's come up with yet: Anti-Spyware. Anyone monitoring the machines would have noticed the changeover, and were thus notified of an impending attack, possibly by some pizza-faced pre-teen with software his older brother-in-law torrented for him, to use on whatever he damn well felt. He feigned a lack of skill, with the computer screens on the inside of the Luxor flashing warnings over and over. Just as the "attack" initiated, the "existing" security software demanded an "update" to "allow" "increased """security""" counter-measures". The user on the other side, more than likely some old coot who probably just saw a bunch of fancy lights on a colorful screen, did exactly as Thomas had intended: he simply clicked [Accept]. And the Luxor, by means of technological power, was Thomas'. Administrator allowances, free reign of all power. Everything from the dynamic timed fifty-keycode electronic locks on all of the vaults, to the lights in the crapper of Room 22.145.
Immediately, he began feeding old security reels into the system, basically randomizing a pre-selected set of different shots that semi-match. This only needed to work for at most ten minutes, until they could infiltrate the security checkpoint and thus, center. From there, Thomas could lock the system down manually, preventing further access, total chaos, and confusion. On top of it all, with a little clever hard system information editing, he could fake a "systemwide failure", making it look like the few minutes that Thomas and Ash worked Velocity over, that the entire information system simply quit. A consequence of the "carrier" attack? Perhaps internal sabotage. Or faulty hardware. The fun was only beginning.
The Cruiser slowed; Thomas felt it rather than saw it. He had only begun to start the system reels when a close-quarter gunshot broke the soft silence of the rain. It made the Technomancer jump in his seat, having temporarily forgotten the sound of a gunshot from earlier in the day. Yasmin hasn't spoken since their first encounter, and it was more of a startle than a "WHAT THE f**k?!" kinda deal. The angle that Ash shot the rent-a-merc from looked perfect. The bloodspray, shattered glass, fragments of gore, and the missing jaw would have made a convincing Zack Attack. Especially considering the lack of zombies, and the local authorities hopefully having not seen an actual attack victim. Best of all: due to the confusion Thomas was going to lay on the po-po, they're going to be under the impression that the bodies are victims of zombie bites. Thus, they'll want a decontamination as quickly as possible. Solution: they pull the bodies out ASAP, and burn them off-site. They cart them off as fast as possible. No questions, no tests. The LVPD wouldn't risk contaminating the city, being a beacon of life and safety.
He took Kriss back, preparing for contact. He looked his matte black beauty over, sighing somewhat. He had hoped her first kill would be from his hands, but there was little to be done about it. And, after some common sense tingling, he assumed she's already spilt blood. Her first kill in Thomas' hands remained. After reattaching the Kriss to it's pin sling, he bundled up his Tasset, folding each panel in half and tying it all together. It actually looked like a Tasset now, despite being made of black and white microfiber. Thomas offhandedly comment how Ash should park the fake cruiser way out of sight. The last thing they need is the cops thinking one of their own, fake or otherwise, is in there. And should they follow the pair of raiders by accident, it would be a shame to have to gun one down for sake of personal saviority. As a further measure of preparedness, he switches magazines from the 30-round with one out, to a fresh mag. He would remember that he only has twenty-nine rounds in the mag on his right side. With a little luck, the goons within would carry .45 ACP as well. One can only be so hopeful.
With I.R.I.S. open, he cradles her in his right hand and arm, as a waiter would with a tray or some s*** like that, the Kriss in his left. Ash parks the cruiser out of sight, and immediately gears up for an assault. She springs from the cruiser, all shades of ready to go. The Technomancer, on the other hand, hesitates. He stops and takes a breath, of confidence and self control. For just a second, the stare he gives the door handle was of intent. He needs to open this passenger door. From there, he would simply continue, from opening other doors, to possibly killing hired goons, to finding the perfect escape route. He was conjuring a few ideas, but one in particular stuck out. And, like any good Tactician, he would keep it a secret from Ash until the moment seemed appropriate, for both dramatic effect and utter cleverness. On top of which, the confusion and apprehension Ash would have during their grand escape was very necessary. But that's all for later.
Standing now beyond the cruiser's shell, assuring himself that all of his worldly possessions were on person, Thomas pointed towards the third receiving bay door,. He smiled, nodded to Ash, and waved his hand Jedi-style././
"You will open for us."
/./A key click later from I.R.I.S., and the door began to roll up. Ain't technology grand. The pair passed through the front door of the back, nobody wiser of what hell was about to unfurl. The directions were simple enough. Silently, Thomas conveyed which turn to take, and where, as they slowly crawled into the Luxor's lair. They had only snuck into Receiving, but it was still guarded. Here, it seemed necessary to shut down the wireless transponders connecting the goons to home base, and each other. It was silent, much as their descent unto the casino hotel was. Not one even heard a cackle of electromagnetic interference. The system suddenly fell out from under them. It was lovely. At first, Thomas kept Ash from taking any more lives than necessary, seeing as they needed to infiltrate at least somewhat deep before initiating full-on Death while not raising suspicion. But a unique problem presented itself. One Thomas hadn't been able to see until they were just outside the door.
Two minutes, fifty three seconds into the instance, one of the goonguards knocked off his post. It seemed like a break, as it was an integral point to pass. Not important, a simple corridor with a stairwell leading to the hotel's guest services kitchen, with the corridor leading onwards to under the shopping mall. [Yes, there's a f**king mall in the Luxor.] This was their destination first. It was totally inconspicuous. But when the guard had unexpectedly begun to socialize with two of the other goons beyond his post, it left Thomas and Ash in a bad place. The guards usually keep eyes forward, bored out of their minds. Occasionally, one would get a text or some s***, and become distracted. But in this scenario, the three guards were standing triangular, looking towards the center to the other two guards. Normally, this wouldn't present an issue, but one of the guards, judging by the security feed, was looking straight down the cross section of the corridor they needed to pass. Thomas couldn't do a Charisma save if they were caught walking around, as he was carrying a gun, and they needed to remain specters. Only one option. Thanks to a single-sheet silicon keyboard, Thomas was able to type quietly into his command que, showing Ash what he had typed to avoid speaking. It simply read:..././
T]-[1nk j00 c4n d0 s0mf1n...
/./He suddenly remember he's not in a chatroom, or posting lulz. He deleted the query, and re-typed the question in proper English././
Think you can do something about this?
/./He pulled the Kriss Super V off of it's pin sling, and held it out to Ashleigh. From here, it would have been odd to relay a command or prompt to the three goons all at once, as the pair of dungeon crawlers were only twenty or so feet away. Any vocal work would have been heard, no audio files were presentable to be fed into the system, and worse of all, they needed to move fast. The suppressor would ease the overall commotion, but any latency would cause an uproar. They were ahead of schedule with the first guard having moved, but with all three goons where they are, their time fell from the hourglass ever constant. Ash had to do this././
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 27, 2010 11:37:14 GMT -5
Revolvers tucked snug in their holsters. Buffalo gun of a Winchester craddled in its scabbard. Jacket: on. Hair: up. A typical shot of your hero emerging and preparing. Ashleigh had begun to count in milliseconds the instant she stepped out of the cruiser.
Thomas was already well engrossed in his tech, a writer absorbed in his manuscript; a manuscript which would be an international best seller. Ash had been smart not to doubt his performance as the magician engaged his trick and went to bask in his Prestige; Ash feigned ignorance and instead exploited it to make her own entrance far more prestigious, walking through without a flinch as if the door had purely opened for her.
Fluidity was important though; the Gunslinger was grateful the Technomancer was always one door ahead; it meant there was no pause for movement, she would still have her momentum if it was required.
Matte pearl; it felt like purgatory, the constant sterile environment. In that metaphor you could probably add Ashleigh and Thomas being the 'dirt' to the diamond; A spreading infection. During their trip to the Luxor Ash had gone ahead and described a brief method of communication the two of them could use while employing silence as a virtue; she would slow at each corner were a single 'tap' would resound 'clear'. Three taps meant 'stop'. Ol'Berlimonte had opened a door with his mind so the Muse was confident he would screw something so simple.
Three taps. Stop. Ash turned to see what the problem was. Thomas turned his monitor to show the feed from the camera plus an essay written in retard. She rubbed her eye with her thumb, blinking away the stupidty working to invade her eyes and corrupt her soul. Thom caught on and rewrote the message. The Muse rolled her eyes, estimated the distance of the corridor from the feed. Yasmin once again presented.
"And the curve he put on the ball into the goal-!" *ping* SPAK
Collapsing forwards. The merc had indeed spotted the wave of hair from the corner of the intersection, the muzzle too, he'd only registered it by the time the muzzle let a pale flash; approximately 20 kilograms of weight had been shifted onto his left leg by the time the projectile had ricocheted off the wall behind him and dug into the back of his head.
Moving. Fast and low.
1.468, 4 feet, 6 inches. CA-THACK
Two huge bounds down the corridor towards the procrastinating group and Ash had fired the second round. Just enough head ws visible of the right hand side merc to count as a kill shot.
2.238, 2 feet, 11inches.
Merc #3 was now turning to face down the direction of the fire. Yet, no perpetrator was visible. The final measurement Ash had made was the one she leapt off of; up, over the mercs head, he'd crouched low meaning there was no contradiction of height to collision.
CA-THACK
The final round buried into the top of the mercs head and he dropped like limp bricks. Ashleigh slammed into the wall of the T-Junction; crumpling up awkwardly. She always lacked consideration for the end of the execution.
Regardless, more or less, three seconds after Thomas had sent el requesto three mercs lay dead on the floor. Maroon tainted the white Velocity logo on one mercs helmet, she flipped him over so gravity dictated the blood didn't spill everywhere choosing to leave little trace.
Then a thought struck her, a bite to the lip in consideration. Unless closely inspected it would have seemed as if all three mercs had suddenly fallen asleep. The flick knife procured from Raccoon emerged, serrated edge tearing up the throat of one merc. Ash controlled him like a rag doll, bringing the dead mans hand to his fake wound and dabbing it with blood. Heaving the guy into standing let her wipe the blood from his hand against the wall before letting him drop 'naturally' to the ground. Merc #2 received a serious stomach gouge, Ash had a little trouble pulling the stab proof vest out of the way but figured carriers would be just as ruthless.
Now all three mercs perishing simultaneously would have seemed extremely suspicious. Ash snatched the hand of the last Velocity member and dragged him down the hall, slack of a tumbler rolling as the Muse opened a linen closet and discarded the body.
She was about to skiddadle when Ash turned back to face the inside of the closet, "Duffle..." a means to carrying the cash established.
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Jun 27, 2010 21:28:19 GMT -5
/./Having seen quite a many gore threads and sites in his years on the interbutts, the maiming of the goons wasn't gut-churning. Ash's handling of the situation was impeccable. Thomas would have opted to leave them where they lay, but it was probably best to give cause of evidence. He watched it all unfurl via root cam, keeping eyes on the closest checkpoints aside from their own. Nobody so much as scratched their nose suspiciously. They were completely and perilously oblivious. Ash passed Yasminkov back to Thomas, which was promptly, with one hand, pinned back to it's sling. Everything was clear for at minimum eighty yards, giving Ash all of the time she needed to gore up the corpses. It was during this that Thomas had a striking moment. He collected the .45 ACP shells from the floor where Ash had dumped them during her goon eradication, as to not raise suspicion if the cops decide to actually perform an investigation. These, he pocketed.
With her personal work finished, they began away again. Ash, however, hesitated a moment, looking back to the closet. She murmured something about a duffel bag, to which Thomas responded by pointing at the Luxor's layout map on his screen. They were steps from the strip-mall storage, and among the shops available, were sellers of containers, traveling luggage, and hiking equipment. To remain anonymous, they had to gear up with something that would have been bought in the Luxor itself. It would seem suspicious later if they walked out with a copy of a bag that was seen in the security sector. He assured her silently that it was the best route to take, and the safest, avoiding a duffel bag. His plan of escape, still secretive, called for smaller, simple bags.
The pair moved on to somewhat safer halls, the bland surroundings blending together in a way as to cause confusion. Only by checking their maps did Thomas know where they were headed, truly following his companion via peripheral vision while his eyes remained stuck to I.R.I.S. The next few minutes of traversing corridor after corridor, and a left hook, proved uneventful. No goons on the route they took, which was perfect. The confusion during the evac procedure would be hellish with less guards. Ash kept point for the time being, Thomas showing her where to lead him as he typed away on his laptop. Only briefly did he have to show her the path, her obviously high intellect able to comprehend the complex directions. It definitely was a labyrinth down here. Getting lost was not an option. Thomas was having Ash lead them to the shops storage first, where they would hold up for a few minutes while Thomas destroyed the image of safety at The Luxor. He estimated a total time of two minutes, six seconds to fully overwhelm the groundlines leading out with flood calls to 911. No more, no less. Anything over, and they would move on with the plan.
Thomas noted to ash, in proper English this time, that they would eventually hit the Security Room on the way to the elevators. These would need shutting down eventually, to trap Derrick where he was. Stairs were out of the question, as quite a many civvies would be rushing down to flee from the "carriers". He continued to erase and type sentences into his command prompt, telling her the best way to convince the upper floors of an attack was to knife a guard again. The most reasonable solution would be the goons in the security. His plan for that, as well, would remain secret. This was so much fun for Thomas, planning out and organizing the hell to come.
Ash was silent up front. It was eerie following her, as she made little to no noise. Thomas, on the other hand, was incredibly loud for feigning stealth. He only had the hiking shoes he's owned for years, and they were far from silent. The only was to muffle them was to walk softly, and that slowed him up quite a bit. With luck, however, the pair made it safely to the Shops district. It was smaller than it looked on paper. Er, on screen. Technomancer waved down another door, specifically the underground storage for six of the retailers, unlocking it without any incident. Ash opened it, Thomas followed, and it was as if they were never there.
A breath of relief escaped from Thomas' body, in that they'd made it to a save point, and that there was little incident. Thomas waved Ash away, shooing her somewhat to continue his work. He told her vocally to go find suitable bags for them. Something that vacationers would have. Nothing gigantic. Nothing tiny. Backpacks, wheeled luggage, the like. Carryables. He propped himself against the now electronically locked door, blocking access from the outside, and prepared for War.
Let Hell fly loose.
Within moments, he had established a working communication uplink with the mobile antenna within The Luxor, and rerouted information receiving and transmitting with dead signals. Very slowly, he shut down all outward calls, one at a time, over the next few minutes while he worked. All wireless network signals, Mobile Service Provider numbers, and various other data configurations began to spam the everliving s*** out of the cops. Each individual call was linked, one way, with various audio files he torrented on the way here. Each one was a unique audio file, low Kps to ensure cellular connectivity audio quality, and cut off after only a few seconds. Each one was relatively the same, and would hopefully follow as such:/./[/i]
[911 Operator] : "911, what is your location?"
[Anonymous Caller] : "T-they're here! Oh God help!"
/./Alternatively..././
[911 Operator] : "911, what is your location?"
[Anonymous Caller] : "-Static- Uh... -Static, white noise- Hel... -Static- ..rhywhere... Zomb... -Static-."
/./Various feeds were available. Two or three Thomas found particularly interesting were "concerned citizens" or "family members" of people who were beginning to come down with fevers, illness', and the like after having been bit by a crazy. Even a few extremely old files, calls placed from The Luxor itself, were spammed, for authenticity. This had to be more than convincing. The Cops had to ride in armed to the teeth. It would take them some time to load up, formulate a plan, combine forces, and begin the evac before any real action took place. Thomas estimated a good fourteen minutes before the po-po even knocked on the front door, and at that point, the pair would be halfway up The Luxor, on the way to dust Derrick. For ensured safety, Thomas had all incoming calls rerouted to The Luxor's front desk of whatever sector had been dialed, leading to voicemail and cutting off shortly after. Internet access was restricted, due to "Security Updates" in the "Existing Software" that the noob in the security center allowed. The system was being "checked for consistency and reliability", and thus, no internet access was allowed within the Luxor. The center of wireless net belonged to Technomancer. And none shall cross that bridge. With the way he was making things pan out for The Luxor, it simply looked like a series of catastrophic events that would lead to a city's demise, much like nearly every other city in the nation.
Within minutes, everyone on the outside was aware The Luxor was under attack by corpses. Within, nobody had the thought in their little safe heads. Everything was going to spiral out of control. One last effect to the plan had to be made. Company records and employee forms dotted his screen. One minute, forty-seven seconds. This would be a fast phone call. Without altering, modding, or otherwise hampering the call in any form, Thomas slid his Chocolate2 out from his right pocket, and dialed 911. Nonchalantly, he whistled an irregular 13/8 time measure during the dial tone. Ash would have clearly heard it, as the storage room was only so large, and quiet as balls. The operator picked up, and prompted an address. Immediately, Thomas began shouting in an ecstatic voice././
[911 Operator] : "911, address please."
[Thomas] : "Oh thank the Lord! Um, ah... The Luxor, uh east Reno avenue and Las Vegas boulevard south... You know where it is uh... Okay so uh.. Are you there? Hello?!"
[911 Operator] : "Yes, I'm here, sir, calm down please. State the nature of the emergency."
[Thomas] : "Oh, right, uh... All of my computers just crashed on me.. I uh, work in the security, um, center, and everything just went to total s***! But I've heard people are being attacked by those things! You know, the uh, ones that eat people! I-I think they're in the halls down here! You have to... Uh.. OH GOD!" /./Thomas banged against the door he leaned against, with his head and free arm././ "They're at the door! f**k send help please! Oh Lord and Jesus Chr---" /./He plopped the phone down on the floor, as if he dropped it, and kicked on an awaiting audio file from his laptop. The file? An .avi captured of Zombie feeding moans. It would have been horrible to be on the other side of this call././ "OH GOD N-NOOOO" /./Thomas fake-fumbled with the phone, as if it was stepped on, or shuffled around, and slid it shut. That dispatcher was going to have some kinda nightmare after all of this. Thomas lol'd a little afterwards, wanting so badly to have a high-res of the operator's face. It would have been gold. He stumbled to his feet, out of breath just a bit from the encounter wit the Cyber-Living dead././
"Alright, so... We have about sixteen minutes max until the cops are all over this place like an Indian on a bottle of Absolut." /./The joke, while off-color, was justified. He was, after all, Native himself. Just saying././ "You about ready for phase two?"
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jun 28, 2010 10:48:06 GMT -5
)(OoC: FFFFFFFFF. I forGOT about the casings. FTR, Ash was going to snatch them, but I forgot to put it down. You screwed up some UBBC code in your last post )( Okay. So the Security room was a primary target on their way up the Brass pharaoh's pyramid. No probs. The olfactory smell of 'new' flooded the duo's nostrils; Thomas didn't seem to mind, yet Ash felt like reeling from the polyester and nylon. It reminded her of the smell a brand new family sedan gives off, 'Roll down the window and suck in some oxygen... quick,' the Muse bagn breathing through her mouth; it helped a little, though she could still taste it. Techmont lowered his gear and went to work on creating havoc. Havoc via keystroke. Ashleigh nodded, it would make a good name for a techno band. Meanwhile the Gunslinger filtered through goods looking for the perfect application to carry wads of cash. It didn't take long, the bag was practically screaming for attention. Sh*t was ugly. Seven billion different colours crammed onto the face of one case. Ash looked up at the rest of the carry accessories noting how the majority of them seemed near sold yet a pack of El Colourado remained. She put it down, "Unimpressed," and grabbed its all-black cousin. Ash flinched when a voice echoed through the storage room, concerned as to precisely whether another person had entered. Giving a moment for registration, the generic 911 Operator opening line made a little more sense. In fact walking back towards the Technomancer typing amuck she couldn't help but start giggling; gradually it went from giggle to emitting a weaze [Y'know, that sound you make when you're laughing so hard the HA converts to hisssssssssssss]. When it came to Thomas' turn Ash had to cover her mouth. She unzipped the bag and stuck her head inside to muffle her laugh. Eventually the attack on his Choc2 finished and the mongermancer flicked on the zombie moaning/chewing sound bite, at which point Ashleigh withdrew her head, her face red, she took a deep breath, "I do believe you have committed the greatest prank known," her face and stomach hurt, like her muscles had been stretched near tearing, "I think we're gonna have to do this again some time. With those sound bites we could generate some effing funny stuff pranking random people,"16 minutes till the Fuzz fuzzed up. "You about ready for phase two?"Probably not. Ash imagined bursting into laughter again while sneaking through a corridor, 'I could probably just tell whoever finds us the story and use their laughter as a diversion to disappear,' ... "Sure," the Muse accepted the followup quest, "Bag GET" she emphasized with the black case and exited the storage room.
Security door caved in, lower hinge snapped; Ash's foot hurt a little for that to happen. Across the room the black suit case flew as the Gunslinger kicked it into one of the coffee machine mulling Velocity mercs leaving him distracted. One merc in particular was leaning back in his chair, feet up on the bench watching the incorrect recordings on all of the monitors. Ash's hand clamped down onto his chin before be could react reasonably and pulled his head back dragging her pocket knife over his Adamsapple. Coffee merc recovered in time to witness the pinnacle of the knife ruin his HUD as it dug into his eye-- Ash's shoulder prickled, 'Damn!' there had been a third merc, and his sidearm was well near trained on her. The Gunslingers hand lashed out and procured a piece of torso ballistic armor, Deus Ex Machina style, holding it up to her head as the mercs pistol discharged. Impact caused the armor to slap Ash feeling her upper arm retain a bruise. She thrust her right arm through the sleeve of the armor to support it as another .45 round smacked into the fiber. No doubt the merc figured he had this fight won. A beauty of Gun Kata being the realm of deception, and most importantly taking every oportunity you're given to aim even if it made your arms tie up to the point of looking retarded. As Ashleigh's right hand had traveled through the sleeve she'd pushed her Sidewinder through at the same time, rough guestimate, and discharge. In summary: no more .45's hit the ballistic armor. The Muse withdrew and dropped the fiber vest. Human Biclops turned Cyclops lay on the ground, petrified... or maybe he was dead, Ash couldn't tell, the stone cold, jagged fingers and mouth open Scream style made it seem that way. She twisted the knife in his eye cavity to make it look like a legitimate gouge before withdrawing. Merc #1, after all this time, was still grabbing at his neck as blood sprayed the monitors. His head had gone back further than what would be comfortable, his view upside down as Ash looked back at him. She shrugged, there wasn't a lot more she could do that wouldn't cause any more pain which could seem 'zombie' nomnoms like. Merc #3 on the other hand, Ash scowled, "Bullet wound," prominantly evident through his head as he lay flat on his face in the corner. The Muse blinked, looking over to Thomas. She made a circle motion with her right index ordering him to turn around. In moderate remorse, Ashleigh closed her eyes and took a deep, regretful breath of a**hole oxygen in before going airborne, leaping a good six feet into the air, and came crashing down on top of the mercs skull. There was a wet pop, a little crunch... bullet hole a lot less evident now, not counting everthing else. Ash tilted her head at the image, made a finger frame, pretended she was a random civvie, then nodded that it looked legitimate enough. And no need to pick up a f*cking casing, one cool thing about a revolver in that regard.Merc #1 had finally stopped gushing, this made Ashleigh feel less bad about herself as she crossed the room to grab the suitcase kicking the ballistic pin cushin vest under the monitor bench, "Hokay, I'm finished," Ash called as she exited security. El Muso hoped Technobingbong didn't have any business in the Lux-Sec room, thinking how the gunshots may grab any mercs ears and pull them in its direction.
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Jun 29, 2010 0:39:15 GMT -5
/./It was agreed beforehand that Ash would rush in and take care of the goons. Thomas gave her the best angle for spotting all three guards, via camera, and showed her which ones would probably act fastest. He would have to learn to combat on his own at some point in time, but for right now, Ashleigh's professional 'Kill-a-mother-f**ker' skills would take point. As before, Thomas provided eyes where she couldn't, watching the camera feed surrounding the perimeter. If anyone decided to sneak up on them, Thomas was entrusted to pop caps in they ass. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea, still somewhat attempting to grasp his situation. He'd gone from running cross-country in Metal Wave to knocking over a mob-run Casino IRL. Zombies to goons. They were both people, at one point in time. But now... Thomas just wasn't as sure of himself with shooting someone. He had to ask himself: is he a bad enough dude to shoot someone in the face?
Ehhh. Maybe.
His coppers flickered from the monitors to the actual hallways. Data streaming in at 17 M/ps wirelessly was only so fast. His Kriss firm in grip, prepared to fire. Ash left the Technoprankster alone to infiltrate the security center. For a second, commotion began to erupt from the well-insulated room. Thomas prepared for the sound of gunfire, but it still startled him. His heart began to race a bit. The entire idea of cracking open a security center for a Casino, even a poorly defended one, and getting away with it pulled him into a state of euphoric adrenal ecstasy. Time seemed to slow; the thump of Ash's massive Sidewinder sounded as if slowed to 0.010x speed. The glow of I.R.I.S.' LED monitor fluidly changed colored pixels, slow enough to witness the exchanging of color pallet for pallet. It was only when the Muse-slinger exited the security room when Thomas snapped back to reality, at least to some extent. The gore was wonderful; it certainly looked horrible enough to count for a Zack Attack. Now to beef up the prank.
Thomas pointed at his laptop, calling on Ash silently to watch the screen for movement. She needn't click anything. All of the posted points were directionally aligned, so she only needed to see a camera to figure the location of coming goons. Meanwhile, Thomas slipped past the red waterworks, sidestepping any and all blood droplets, finding his way through to the central hub. Now the hell begins.
For a moment, he counteracted his own dummy hack; the false Anti-Spyware would open with a proper command, which Thomas entered with haste. This would only take a moment. The monitor flickered to the wireless wave range for the earpieces every Goon wore. He clicked on nearly every one, save the goons up closer to the top of the Luxor. He made sure to leave holes, but the issue would be having the goons shout up to one another via staircase. He only hoped what he planned next would go smoothly. He flicked on the transponder, and spoke softly into the receiver././
"Get everyone out. Staff, vacationers, everyone. Pick 'em up and carry them if you have to. No questions, no excuses, and don't say a f**kin' thing about nothin'. I'm not kiddin'."
/./He gave them a few moments to register what had just been fed into their little shaved heads, then proceeded to shut all coms down once more. He backtracked to the false Spyware, allowed it to retake control, and moved on. The gunshots may have echoed into the Casino/Hotel itself, but it was justified when everyone carrying a gun was immediately told to boot everyone else out the door. A full of thirty-six seconds they spent in place before they continued on their rush. On time, as well. They were no more than ten seconds ahead of schedule. Perfect.
The next phase of the plan would be much less tricky. With the goons in a panic to move everyone along without losing control, they would encounter little interference when they rushed upstairs and grabbed an inclinator. Thomas explained this vocally as the pair rushed down the final bland corridor of their trek: they needed to use a service elevator, typically used to staff and employees to move throughout the building without clogging up the inclinators, to reach the floor beyond where Thomas had the guards start rushing everyone out. From there, he could systematically shut down the power to each individual floor, starting up and working down. Then during the blackout, they would bumrush the stairwell to the highest guest floors, specifically the SkyBeam penthouses, of which the highest Derrick had permanently reserved for himself. Selfish prick.
The vault, which hasn't been mentioned quite this far in yet, Thomas would break was located within the same penthouse that Derrick sought refuge. It's net worth was unknown, but it would be not so suspicious when the only lockup supplied by the Luxor's owner was emptied by night's end. The only decision Ash had to really make was how to handle the Goons up in the floors to come. If she felt it necessary to cap each one, Thomas could seal each room down, and let Ash take each one down individually. OR. He could have them skip everything, and continue on to the big cheese himself. Then from there, he could have the goons head out to assist the others evacuating the civilians while he cracked the vault. Safe. Thing.
The running conversation ended when Ashleigh and Thomas rounded the final curve, looking smack at the service elevator.././
"This'll run us right up to the top floor of the standard guest rooms. Since the staff are being evacuated along with the civvies, nobody's using it, nor will be using it. We gotta move fast. Have to beat the cops..." /./He punched the elevator summon multiple times, impatient././ "... To Derrick."
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jul 1, 2010 8:07:21 GMT -5
4... 5...
Head rolling off hand; the Muse snorted as she was roused from the doze sucking up a slick of drool at the same time. In the brief cat nap she dreamt about reaching the top floor for the service elevator; more specifically not having to ride it anymore. Disappointed, she grumbled and dropped her head on her hand again scrunching up her cheek.
"16... 17..."
One major fact left out of the service elevator being how slow it was; no doubt it carried a lot of items up and down. In order to preserve these items the big box had to travel slower than your typical public elevator. The suitcase was coming in useful earlier than expected, though. Ash had established a fairly decent seat out of it, legs crossed; its ingenious design dictated the handle being set into the case.
'Could've reassembled the Winchester ten times by now...' the Gunslinger mulled, the final three floors feeling as long as the entire ride altogether. Ash was jumping for the duration of the last level.
DING
"Thank F*CK," bellowed while a black suitcase flew out of the elevator doors.
Leather boots pounded after it into elaborate halls. Beige washed walls and red carpet, gold trim around everything. Disarray added to the effect as residents had been yanked from their rooms, bits and pieces of everything had been strewn about the place. The Luxor couldn't help but make out where the guest elevators were, sign and arrow at every corner; the manager must have worried about gamblers getting lost on their way to Blackjack.
Ashleigh's finger stabbed the button for the inclinator. During the brief wait the Muse rested against the thick glass display looking out into the Las Vegas night; lights scattered everywhere, like jewels floating on oil. Specifically the ones Ash was most interested in being the strobing rubies and saphires, "For some reason I get the feeling we're making a big opportunity for crime to break out tonight. I count half of El-Vee PD rolling into Luxor," the tone of Ash's voice had gone a little condescending, spotting the moral dilemma, "This is the first 'biohazard' they've had ta deal with o'course," she turned on her heel and leaned back, "The council are probably up in arms about an outbreak working its way inside out; people'll probably be wondering what the hell is up with all this commotion... urgh, it's gonna take weeks for this to die down,"
An ethereal chime resonated from the inclinator. The Muse's expression changed radically as a Velocity merc stood in the opening. Ash practically slid along the floor, her open palm collided with his exposed nose, "Cripes..." she crouched down beside the incapacitated merc, "Being a PMC it's a bet they have some 'deterrence plan' against anyone wanting to get up to Brass. A couple of guards watch the elevators, the natural assumption when the indicator starts dropping is a guest wants to utilize it to go down," and thus a merc rode it to enlighten the guest that the stairs were the only option, "They'd open fire as soon as they noticed we don't sport the Velocity patch," she dusted her pants off, "Kill the power like you said. Let's try to get all guerilla on these guys," Ash proposed as she started for the stairwell.
She had to decide how this was all going to pan out, Ash rolled simulations over in her head. Facing off against a private army wasn't exactly a thrill Ashleigh had the privelage to experience on a regular basis. You go up against a couple dozen ballistic shielded, MP7 PDW armed soldiers, odds don't look particularly flash. It only took one bullet, "Ngh..." the negative thought corrupted her simulations, all of them ending with her dropping one or two mercs before catching a stray bullet to the head and falling limp to the ground.
Ash wasn't usually one for being a coward. She felt like she had to walk across thin glass... just take a couple of steps back to safety rather than get to the other side. It was like this - every - single - time - yet she refused to turn around, 'Am I so stubborn?' her personality switched in a centrifugal revolution for the follow up answer, replied in anger to the uncertainty, red to blue, 'You're just good at what you do. That's all,' and in that one brief instance the Muse motivated herself, her simulations finishing up with herself standing amidst a sh*tload of dead nobodies who couldn't possibly dream of measuring up to herself.
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Post by .name//Technomancer on Jul 2, 2010 23:37:51 GMT -5
/./The wait for the service elevator was partially necessary. While Ashleigh was not one for patience, the adrenaline could use a small purge before the pair continued on. The wait also meant Thomas could queue up the next few stages of action, and sub-routes for those steps, should any small event not unfold in the most perfect way. The keystrokes, given such silence, would have been annoying to individuals who were annoyed by small, insignificant things. The strokes were silent, and continuous. The only time Thomas ever removed a hand from the full-sized board was when he pounded Tab relentlessly, scrolling through commands at lightning speed. When this came to pass, his right hand soft of fell to the side of the laptop, tapping against the fiberglass shell with his nails. The measure, as often with him, was an odd measure, this one at 7/8 and 13/8 with a 1/32 upstarts. In his head, he could perfectly hear the music he tapped out, not daring to power up his iTunes and start blaring music. This was a much safer alternative, although more annoying.
During this time, and the short hop onto and ride up the service lift, Thomas kept half watch on the eyes above, keeping note of all the goons they'd eventually face... And half his watch dedicated to watching the lulz and fail the goons faced down below. People ran frantically around, like Zacks were nipping at their asses. The guards attempted to keep them from compromising the security of the Luxor; keeping them from entering the kitchen and the lower floors proved disastrous, and looting persisted without their knowledge. The Hotel would have everything restocked and fixed by the end of the week, with the autonomous crew of workers to keep the place in shape, so no guilt weighed on Technomancer. Plus, it was intense lulz. Were it not a security risk, he would record all of the happenings. But anything of the sort would prove... Troubling if the po-po decided to show up at the door to The Shop and seize the tech.
The ride up so many stories was one of silence, aside from Ash stating the obvious; more than likely she spoke to herself, but Thomas dropped plenty of eaves upon her personal conversation././
"The council are probably up in arms about an outbreak working its way inside out; people'll probably be wondering what the hell is up with all this commotion... Urgh, it's gonna take weeks for this to die down."
"Explanatory Statement: I've already written a solution to that detail, Master," /./Thomas noted in his own little nerdy way,/./ "While we were in the storeroom, I jotted down the serial numbers from a variety of pallets and boxes, and found a common shipping service between a LTL [Less Than Load] shipment. I tracked the shipping container down, and wrote in an "additional stop" into it's log, including giving the driver additional hours of travel, which I'm sure he will not complain about, and thus will not mention the stop. That particular stop was a secondary pickup, located in a neutral Military outpost some ways Southwest, towards Arizona. The supplier of this shipment: a company known as Tricell. They'll deny the f**ker up and down. The shipment was a single box crate, 5"x5"x7", large enough for two or four people to stand front to back. I had the shipment "signed for" to be taken 'round back, towards the storage, before being rerouted by Security back to the truck, as no authorization was given to allow it past the checkpoint within the Luxor. The container disappears for six minutes, reappears rolling back to the truck, 350 .lbs lighter. It's taken back onto the freighter, labeled as [Undelivered Goods], and carted away. Put zombie and zombie together, and wadda'ya'gat?" /./He chortled, mocking the unsuspecting Velocity for having allowed the shipment to pass, Tricell for providing it, and the cops when they put two and two together././ " I had this happen roughly twenty-one minutes ago. Pretty metal plan don---"
/./A small lapse in the plan decided to tick during Thomas' monologue. He wasn't sure until much later if the change of altitude or simple electromagnetic interference caused it, but the net lagged or some s***. Nanoseconds before the service doors opened with the Velocity Goon standing on the other side, the path seemed clear... The image suddenly changed from an empty hallways to the same, with the empty air occupied instead by a guard. Thomas had way too little time to react, throwing himself against one side of the elevator, hugging his ASUS to his chest, still open. He wasn't even able to verbally announce the presence of the goon to Ash, whom she dealt with in her own flavor, and in a fit of ridiculous speed. This type of mistake was entirely upon Thomas. He wasn't watching his Mbps closely enough, and would later discover that the lapse was due in part of a resync to the towers near the upper floors. No such mistake would occur again.
While Ash returned to the safe cover of the now-electronically-halted service elevator, Thomas checked and double-checked his Kriss V. Yasminkov was prepared to finally take lives in Thomas' hand. And slowly, Thomas was beginning to finally accept he would as well. Think Army Of Two, man, just uh, without the flak masks... Thomas assured himself, or attempted to. He could hope and wish his instincts would take over when it counted, providing cover fire for Ash and backing her up.
Ash noted Velocity's potential contingency plan, and her desire to see the lights out. As swiftly as his keys would acknowledge the commands, Thomas slapped the queues around, setting the "Lights Out" function to manual, prepping the console to click out one floor at a time. With the lights in consideration, Technomancer took a moment, one Ash didn't mind sparing, to write in a sub-routine to automatically lock down every door when the lights went out. Fire escapes, elevators, room doors, the works. No civvies to turn the situation around, no hostages, no nothing. Lights out equals Goons Vs. Raid Party. No dynamics. On Ash' count, Thomas shut down the lights on the entire floor, and bolted every door locked. Thomas would later, anonymously, notify The Luxor of it's weak-as-balls security protocols, and how easy it is to realign every routine to a single machine.
The Muse lead the charge against the Goons, Technomancer following close behind. In a small lapse of reality, Thomas lowered his screen's brightness to near nothing, only allowing enough light to pass as recognizable shapes. With this, he activated a filter on-screen, slapping all colors into grayscales. This makes everything more recognizable with less light. Copper didn't exactly have vision-enhancing properties, but eyes adjusting to the low light of The Luxor's darkened halls did have a better hold of things. Thomas' night vision is impeccable. His only issue is being introduced to light again. And with his laptop helping out, that wasn't going to happen unless Thomas said so. A few steps behind Ash at all times, leading her around and through the corridors via maps again. Her skills with stealth kills was on par with Thomas' skill with a command prompt. Sneaking up on the goons wasn't too difficult either. With the particularly perceptive ones, Thomas would blare the fire alarm for about six seconds, allowing Ash to stab the f**ker with a few bullets before proceeding over their exhausted corpses.
Thomas seldom had a chance to pick off a merc, less was able to before Ashleigh was all over him. Damn stealthers. In a way, Thomas was kinda conserving ammo, and in a turn, his suppressor. It couldn't be helped. Six floors separated Ash from Derrick. You never know when a few .45 rounds could come in handy, but suddenly be absent, having been lodged in someone's face two floors down.
A few more kills down the line brought the party to the first of seven doors, the only ones needing opening before Ash has her shot at taking Velocity down permanently. Thomas breached the door's override for the Lights Out lockdown, only popping the lock for about six seconds. It was enough time to poke one's head in, namely Ash, and confirm a total "Coast Clear" before proceeding. A serious issue Thomas noted earlier to Ashleigh was the lack of operational cameras in the stairwells. Reason being a "renovation" by none other than D**kf**k himself. There were no cameras to replace them, not yet. In this state, the only working eyes were on the floors themselves, never the stairwells leading to them. Ash and Thomas would proceed with caution in this respect, knowing full well a 'nade could fall on their heads any moment, or something equally as deadly. Like a ninja, or something. Luckily, no ninjas happened to take them around the block this time. But you never know...
Each stair they quietly took over pulled them closer to their destination, but also anxiety and pressure. Any one small problem could f**k them over easily. One of the doors could be unlocked by some horrible way, and a flood of civvies could blast down the stairs with goons in tow. Or, like Ash was probably thinking, some freak could get lucky and pull off a shot into either The Muse or The Technomancer, disabling a delicately balanced mathematical equation. Through the blinding darkness, Ash looked down a few steps into Thomas' copper hues, signaling him to prep popping the next lock. On her mark..././[/i][/b]
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Jul 3, 2010 12:11:06 GMT -5
For a fleeting moment Ashleigh was nearly convinced on Thomas' description of the incriminating facts to keep heads welded in reality. Nearly scolding him on the concept of unleashing the undead, before: 'Oh... evidence... right...'Guess that just proved how legitimate it sounded. "It's not like that," Ash retorted quickly after Tom finished, "All of this area, the Luxor, adjacent casinos; it'll be blocked out to the public until the PD figure out the biohazard is fake. People will lose money. Patrols will leave districts known for high levels of crime to pitch in on the clean up allowing a lot of crap to happen," she sighed, "Vegas has never been hit with an outbreak, in theory its economy would drop if a containable biohazard occurred. An explanation would look good on the evening news... that's about it,"Yellow lit stairs. Ash wondered if this was the dullest vertical climb she'd ever partaken in; compared to the rest of the casino the stairwells had been left to fend for themselves when it came to decor. That, and it was so quiet; only the wisp of humming air dared to talk. Anything could have been outside of the walls; a snow beast in an Antarctic desert; a tropical cloud forest filled with lethal dinosaurs [this one Ash was particularly interested in]; or dirt. They could have been underground for all they knew... had they been blindfolded on their way in of course. Thrust into Thomas' personage was the black case; she would have explained yet it was fairly obvious. It could rest on his back easily anyway. Ashleigh's hand reached further and further for the tumble lock, her fingers about to wrap around its brass lever of doory openy wisdom, when a spontaneously generated thought caused several brain cells to commit Seppuku out of sheer amazement. I mean... to actually think on a level potentially equal to Thomas. "Hey Tom..." she started, a cursory, nervous, opening grin to body langue out incoming embarrassment, "I thought I might mention, I mean, albeit it doesn't happen very often," she did a funny hokey pokey motion to this, "It's not the first time I've had a gamble with a PMC before. One thing I figured I'd let out is how they aren't - all - dumb," she gestured on a level such as herself, toting guns, ripping the scrotum off with your teeth while keeping the testes perfectly intact - while the intellectual level Belmont resided on - "I'd call them, Tech-Troopers?" trying to get involved with the Star Wars side of things, feeling a little old, "More specifically, they specialize in what you do, in layman's," a casual index unrolled itself and pointed upwards, "Now, I doubt Brass would keep the low boats up there to hug his bum; there's a pretty fair bet they're a little 'More' than what we've encountered... I just need you to be prepared, don't overlook a thing. Most importantly, make sure we haven't been ghosted this whole time," she returned her attention to the brass lever, "There's no such thing as zero possibility," the Gunslinger noted, speaking the words once told to her by a soldier. A true situational calculator. Lights Out. Door Open. Or LODO. Makes for a cool acronym. ----------------------------------------------------- A simple hallway intersection; three Velocity members all watch down one corridor looking at the elevator while a fourth covered the last three stretches watching their six and flanks. "Are you sure you got the call right?" once mercenary whispered, his voice high and whiney; for this he will be known as Whiney Merc, "There are actually zombies in the Luxor? I mean, it had to be the f*cking casino we're stationed in and not the UDA boys over in Excalibur,""I - am - tellin'ya-" and for probably the third time; this guy's voice resonated deeply, coining the name Deep Merc, "The 911 c*cktosser said they got a call from someone right inside and being eaten alive, among just about every other civvy playin' pokey,""Okay, so why can't Brass just up and out via the helipad?" Whiney Merc asked, begging for excuses. The third in their group seemed to be the heavy weapons expert decked out in tons of gear, titled Heavy Merc, "Have you looked out the window recently? Every storm, ever, has practically parked its ass over El-Vee. You could quite literally ride the lightning if you wanted to," he gestured a flying vehicle, "Wind'd latch onto the chopper and wouldn't let it go... it'd send it right into Las Vegas Boulevard,""To be honest I totally wouldn't mind that happening," the final guy covering the rear spoke up, Spiteful Merc, "It'd get us out of the contract we're in. Joo gatta admit, sh*tsux for what you'd think is paradise,"All of the men mumbled sounds of agreement and nodded their heads, shuffling to acquire better comfort to accompany this new pleasant thought suddenly displaying in their cerebrum. For a moment there was only silence, until: "So who bet out of tonight’s boxing match between Dilette and Ponting?" Heavy Merc queried. In unison the rest reported, "Ponting,"Noise rode a wavelength out from a nearby maintenance storage room. The luxuriousity of the deluxe suites required a fair bit to remain pristine, thus a large room to harbor all of the necessities to groom them. "You hear that?" Whiney Merc tuned in, almost admitting his trigger finger hand nearly yanked back in excitement. Deep Merc started moving, "I'll check it out," he growled. Whether his badass voice was all the artillery he had would soon be determined. Night Vision on, just as the intruder had suspected; explaining to her computer commuter counterpart before infiltration of the deluxe suites. The blind spot was what she was after, "I don't see nothin', looks like a stack'a boxes fell over," he 'humphed’ and turned around to see two white, glowing spheres in his display. He was about to yell when his Ka-Bar Mk.II, a good 9 inches, was unsheathed and stuck into his stomach. Diaphragm pierced, Deep Merc was lifted off his feet as the now complete impalement continued and the knife dug into the plaster of the wall behind him; hanging like a decoration. Ash's hand hurt, the hard part after all that had been making sure the knife went through the mercs stab proof armor. All it needed was enough pressure. She massaged her right wrist, leaving it out of gunslinging for the time being. Meanwhile her left hand went for the suppressed P250 at the mercs hip, "Oi Cage! You still there buddy? Kinda cut off mid sentence..." Whiney Merc yelled to his dead compadre, "F*ckin' idiot..." he started towards the storage room, Heavy Merc followed behind him subtly. "Hey dipshi-" Whiney leaned in to see Deep Merc hanging, foot twitching; a miniscule flash from a dark corner of the room was the last thing Whiney spotted before keeling over backwards, blood spatter on the ceiling. Heavy Merc at this stage had already tuned in to what was going on and pulled his machine gun up, ready to rage. As his finger depressed the trigger, the fire alarm came on drowning out every single gunshot that popped from the muzzle; he fired wildly at the wall sending 7.62 rounds penetrating the weak plaster throwing all manners of material flying. Then Heavy Merc lurched, one of the 101 bullets fired in that instance had traveled in the opposite direction and comprised of several calibers lower in size catching the man right in the throat. A heartbeat later, he was dead, and the fire alarm turned off. Just how the doctor ordered... the doctor being Ash. She sat snug and curled up in her cover of the storage room, Sidewinder resting against her head, one shot spent. The curtains were left to Thomas; the final part of the engagement plan Ash had left up to him. A single 40 metre shot at the remaining merc. The Muse closed her eyes...
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Post by NotAvailable on Nov 23, 2011 4:47:52 GMT -5
[Cyrus is currently in the Luxor's Casino Floor]
Up above the Casino floor, in the hotel, Lauren had been told to wait with her two little girls, Ashley and Dana. They'd been hidden away there, in the Luxor by her husband who swore he'd come back for them when the time was right. It'd been almost an entire month since and she'd finally gotten word to be ready with the girls by nightfall. It was now 4:30 in the afternoon, night had begun to fall about five now-a-days.
She'd been sitting at the edge of the bed staring down at the Beretta in her grasp. Darryl had given her this gun way back when they first had Ashley, their oldest. He'd taught her to properly use it if and when necessary. It wasn't until her husband had gotten into business with this...Mr.Crowley that he'd actually began to enforce it. She'd warned him about that person, whoever he was. Or she. Sometimes she wasn't sure which it was. She often heard them called, 'mister' but when they referred to her in that safe sentence, they referred to her as a 'she' and a 'her'. Either way, she had a terrible, dreadful, feeling about that person.
She'd felt her heart clamour in her chest while staring at the weapon. That's when her children came bursting through the bedroom doors, forcing her to quickly hide it away, tucked beneath the blankets.
"Mom! We're hungry!" Ashley cried, exasperated. The smallest of the two, Gabby, frowned and whined beside her. "We can't call room service, the lines aren't working, the operator said!"
Lauren sighed and dug in her pocket, pulling out a bundle of cashe Darryl left for them. She'd separated the 20's from the 50's from the hundreds before presenting them with a crisp fifty dollar bill.
"Go see if you can find change for this and get you and your sister something, alright? Just be careful." she told them. Ashley took it thankfully, smiling up at her mother and pocketing it before grabbing her sister's hand. "Alright mom, we'll be right back!"
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Post by Mikey on Nov 24, 2011 5:46:32 GMT -5
Scott rode the bike, liberated from a teenage with a hundred dollar bill, a pair of ear buds in his ears. He pulled up to the front of the hotel, stowing his bike in a parking place like any average imbecile would do. He walked into the lobby, a spring in his step as he hummed the tune. He walked to the front desk, stopped to belt out the latest line in the song.
“They took the midnight train to anywhere!” He sang, badly, before pausing the song and looking at the bewildered receptionist’s face.
“Sorry. Journey. Can’t help but sing along.” He said with a sheepish grin. She seemed to accept that, or at least accept that he was a total moron, and regained her composure.
“What can I do for you?” She asked.
“Well, I have a package for someone staying here. Ms. Henderson, I wanted to know what room they were in.” He said.
“I’m not actually allowed to give you that information.” She said.
“Oh, come on. It’s a present for the little ones, I’m pretty sure. Pink wrapping, big frilly bow. You gonna deny one of those kids their gift?” He asked, pulling the most guilt inducing story he could think of out of his rectum.
“Well…” She said. He almost had her.
“I’ll sing at your wedding if you tell me.” He said with a smile. Her face fell, but she began typing on her computer.
“Uh, no, thank you.” She said, writing down the number on a business card in front of her and handing it over.
“Your loss.” He said with a wink, putting the song back on and walking toward the elevator while belting out the next line.
“I seen her in a smoky room!” He almost yelled, the other people waiting for the elevator glaring at him. His eyes were closed, he didn’t notice.
“Smell of wine and cheap perfume! For a smile they can share tonight, it goes on and on and on and on!” He yelled again, stepping into the elevator and hitting the proper floors button.
“Strangers! Waiting!” He sang, pointing at the people who, at this point, were looking at him like he was a mental patient.
“Up and down the boulevard!” He sang as the doors closed. Sighing and rolling his eyes when he was finally alone, he ripped the earphones out and stuffed them into his bag. His cover was so annoying, he wanted to kick his own ass. He undressed quickly, replacing the street clothes with a waiters uniform. When he got to the floor, he avoided going toward the room for a moment, looking for the final piece of his cover. It was easy to find, a waiter returning with an empty cart, silver domes over plates. He waved to the man as if he saw him often, smiling. On reflex, the other man waved back before he realized he didn’t know Scott. Scott walked up to him.
“Hey, man, remember me? We have the same lunch break.” He said with a smile. “Just uh, real quick. Where did they hide the maintenance closet?” He asked.
“Well, it’s right down there, but I don’t know why you would need…” The man stopped, the finger striking his Adam’s Apple stifling any noise. He then struck him in the jaw, knocking him out cold for the moment. He drug the man to the closet and opened it, tossing him on the ground before kneeling down and snapping his neck to keep him from waking up again. He closed it up, walked back to the cart, and hid his messenger bag under the cart and table cloth. Pushing the cart along, his USP hidden under one of the domes, he walked toward the room and knocked on the door. It opened immediately, the two little girls on their way out.
“Hi.” He said with a wide smile. “Is your mommy here?” He asked, starting to push the cart into the room.
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Post by NotAvailable on Nov 29, 2011 4:00:13 GMT -5
The little girls had had been leving the hotel room when a creepy man with a creepy grin had came pushing a cart with what looked like a present on it. He'd asked them if there mom was inside, but they didn't pay much attention to that, they were much more interested in the pink box.
"Is that for us? Did our daddy send us a present?!" the oldest of the two asked, excitedly. The younger girl had kept four fingers in her mouth and her other hand clasped in her sister's, looking up at the man wide-eyed. ================================================================================= Darryl's helicopter landed safely on the roof of the Luxor. He'd been thorough, cash had been sent ahead of him to assure the landing pad on the roof was clear. His wife and daughters should be waiting for him to pick them up. Even the helicopter pilot was an old airforce buddy.
A quick hand signal confirmed to his pilot that he'd be back quickly. Crowley was ruthless, but she wouldn't have him or his family. They'd vanish and she'd can go rot for all he cared. Once inside the casino he quickly made his way to the elevator and hit the button for his wife's floor.
Light elevator music accompanied his thoughts. He double-checked his gear while he waited. Everything was right were it needed to be. There wasn't any time to change, but he didn't plan on staying long enough for someone to call security.
His heart pounded in his chest. The merc was nervous, surely his boss had left an impression on him. That was why he needed to get out. That was why he was getting out. This elevator was too damn slow.
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Post by Mikey on Dec 1, 2011 3:00:25 GMT -5
Scott let out a small grin as he looked at the little girls.
“I don’t know, sweetie. You’ll have to have your mommy find that out for you.” He said.
He looked around the room and then toward the door to the bedroom. He was betting the mother was inside there.
“Mrs. Henderson?” He called out into the room. He had heard the helicopter on the roof. He didn’t know who it was but something told him he should get a move on.
“Mrs. Henderson? I need someone to accept this package!” He said, his voice slightly louder this time.
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Post by NotAvailable on Dec 14, 2011 23:51:07 GMT -5
Ash smiled and looked down at Gabby, smiling widely. "C'mon Gabby, let's get some food so we can come back and open the present," she told her little sister, opening the door for the man. "Mommy! Daddy sent us a package! We're gonna get some food and come back!" she exclaimed before anxiously smiling back at the man.
With that, they ran off to the elevators as quickly as their little feet could carry them. When they'd arrived at the elevators far from the room, the doors pinged and slid open, revealing....
"Daddy!" the little girls chimed with delight, hugging their father.
Daddy hugged the two little ones back, happy to see that they were alright. "I'm so glad you two are okay. Where's mommy?"
Gabby looked back down the hall. "She's talkin with the present man, daddy. We got your present!"
Daryl's heart sunk. Crowley Crowley Crowley Crowley Crowley Crowley Crowley Crowley- He had to do something, he didn't send a package, did he already have Laura, should he just leave now, the girls were safe. The girls were safe. They were safe.
Daryl hit the button on the elevator for the top floor holding onto his little girls.
The little girls tensed up, looking up at their daddy, sadly. "Where are we going? What about mama?" Ashley asked.
"Mama will be along soon babies. You know how I'm always going away for work? Well mommy and I thought it'd be nice if you two could come along with me instead of staying home with her. Won't that be nice?" he said, smiling down at them.
The girls exchanged worried looks. "Yeah...okay then, daddy." The elevator finally stopped at the last floor. The family of three stepped out, with the two girls trailing behind their father slightly.
The merc opened the door to the rooftop, the loud whir of the helicopter blades forcing the little girls to cringe and cover their ears.
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