2072: Game World, IC thread for 2072: Recruitment always open! Options

[Aria]

@E:PL UK / Gemeaux & Mr Hill
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]

Having breezed through customs and other bureaucratic red tape, this being the UK it wasn’t possible to avoid it altogether, with minimal fuss, your transport dropped you off a few miles away outside a small brick chapel and an octagonal church of a more modern appearance (at least modern in the last century). You are greeted by a sharply dressed black orc called Charlie who informs you that he will be your driver for the sabbatical at Rosslyn. You are promptly invited in for a cup of tea before preparing yourselves for the continuation of your journey. Another assistant offers to transfer your bags to the waiting saloon whilst you refresh yourselves. After the quiet then it is somewhat disturbing when Charlie comes back to you in a bit of a lather

“Father, I have just been informed that the matrix node has been compromised. It may be nothing, but so soon after your arrival I wouldn’t want to leave anything to chance…are you prepared to move on?”

[SoyKaf Adict]

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:30; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside/inside 403]
PAN=Passive, SIN: Erica Hallowford
PAN=Hidden, SIN: Vivica Leman

She chuckled, she needed it. Now or never. She pushed open the door, ready as she'd ever be.

Saint peered into the room, donning her hooker guise once more. "Dr. Bailey? I'm your new appointment, hope you're ready for me." Her tone was casual, if not a little suggestive, it went with the territory.

It took a few more steps, and she was past the point of no return.

[JxJxA]

@ E:PL
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]

Gemeaux arcs an eyebrow at Charlie's revelation, and turns to Anselm.

"I am ready to leave if necessary, but I can take a look around outside if you like."

In a quiet aside to Monsieur Hill, "Could this be the work of our guest?"

[DaedalusK71]

@Aria:PL Chicago / Erebos
[July 7th, 2072, 10:32 PM; En-route to Chicago]

<<Arrival at 23:00 as anticipated. We’ll be flying low for the rest of the trip and it might get a bit bumpy back there…>>


He said it was an easy job... Not that Erebos believed him. He said it would only take a week... Right, a trip to Chicago. The delivery would be easy, the customer was well know in those parts. Sure, everyone knows the two-bit drug dealer pushing lace on the street corners. He said the job would buy him (and more importantly, Jacob) a thirty day reprieve... So it was off to see 'The Wizard of 35th street' ...

As the craft descended, a little voice in the back of his mind started whispering... You do kind of look like a bug you know... and you are on a plane to ... Chicago...

[Ears]

@Fortune's Forecast
[April 18th, 2072, 00:52:35; Everett, inside Everett Medical Center, outside / inside 403]
PAN=Active, SIN: John Taylor

Into the lion's den with a chuckle.

Following Saint, Adrian enters the office behind her.

Deciding to better let her do the talking, he just gives the doctor a nod; and the office a good look.

[Notsoevildm]

@E:PL
[July 3rd, 2072, 10:46 PM; Cheap motel, Chicago]

Copperhead dumps the pile of gear on the bed and lets out a long breath that she feels she has been holding forever. She is still trembling with adrenaline from her encounter with the hyped up ganger that had tried to rob her on her way back from the market.

Jeez, I should have seen that coming.

She had been distracted by two incoming messages. The first was from Dealer saying he had some urgent biz to deal with and would be back in touch in a couple of days. He was terse at the best of times but she had felt he was slowly opening up to her, so this sudden brief message had her worried. The second message was the time and location for the meet; 10 AM on the 8th at somewhere called Fawkes Bizarre. She was internally fuming about having to stay in the shitty hotel for at least another four days and as a result hadn't immediately noticed the skinny ganger until he had the heavy pistol practically stuffed in her face.

She could tell he was on something, possibly a lot of somethings. With her arms full of gear, casting or cutting him was going to be a problem and there was no way she could reach the Enfield in time. So she had simply talked to him. When he realised that short of killing her, his chances of getting away with all her stuff were limited, he had negotiated down to half a case of only slightly expired C-rations, a carton of cigarettes she had picked up for barter in the zone and the refills for her medkit. He had been particularly interested in those. Then he was gone.

She slumps down on the bed and starts sorting through the gear and packing it into the smarpack she had bought to hold it all. Rations, water bottles and purification tablets, sleeping bag and tent.

Not sure I need the tent, should be plenty of abandoned building for cover.

She tests the weight of the smartpack and shrugs.

Guess it's not that heavy.

Ths simple act of sorting through the stuff is enough to calm her down. Once finished she strips out of her armor and cracks one of the C-rations. It's bland but hot, which is better than some of the meals she's eaten in the Barrens. She calls Cutter but doesn't tell him about her run-in with the ganger, partly because he would worry about her, but mainly because she's too embarrased to tell him that she got caught out like that. Then Snake is there and it's time for magic class.

[Notsoevildm]

@E:PL
[July 8th, 2072, 08:15 AM; Cheap motel, Chicago]

The beeping of her commlink's alarm pulls her slowly from sleep. She is not an early bird, in fact she dislikes being up and about at all during the day. Eyes squinting against the bright light seeping through grubby, faded curtains, she drags herself from the lumpy bed and puts on her game face. The water is cold today but that helps her wake up.

She washes, dresses then applies makeup and sunblock - it looks like it's going to be hot and sunny and she while her skin may be tough, it gets sunburnt easily. She decides against the armor for the meet, settling for just her cyberpirate outfit of bra-top and hotpants worn under a sleeveless armored duster. Large, oversized sunglasses complete the look as well as protecting her eyes from the glare. She checks herself out in the bathroom's cracked mirror before heading back to the market, which she only learned yesterday was actually called Fawkes Bizarre when she had asked the slimy toad of a concierge for directions.

No wonder the place had seemed to have more than it''s fair share of shadow-types

Stepping out of the hotel, she immediately seeks the shadows as she makes her way to the meet. Not in any attempt to be stealthy or inconspicuous, simply to stay out of the sun.

[RdMarquis]

@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
SIN: Spencer Lovett

I might as well be in a different country entirely, Mordred thought as he stared through the bus window. He saw people, buildings, and vehicles flow by, none of them familiar. Was it because he had been gone so long? Did fifteen years make that much of a difference? Or perhaps the country had always been this way. Maybe he had just forgotten that. Maybe he was the one who had changed. Quietly, Mordred laughed at himself. Talk about corny. And he was sure that line had come from an old song.

He got off the bus, stretched, and began walking.

Not that he had planned this visit. Mordred would have been content to let many more years pass before he returned to the UK. Too many bad memories, not to mention a "family" he didn't particularly feel like talking to (with one exception). But he needed work, and Argent had a job for him. The adept reached into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, removing his commlink and checking the time. Good. He should make it to the church just on time.

In addition to the sweatshirt, Mordred had a t-shirt and jeans on. The outfit was intended to hide the armor he was wearing underneath. A duffel bag hung from his shoulder, containing guns, ammunition and various tools, the necessary equipment for an individual of his talents. The adept himself was tall, with blue eyes and messy brown hair.

Mordred stopped at the front door of the church and knocked. Better that he not drop in uninvited.

[Fairy]

@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada

The woman appears around the corner of Kings and Connaught. England had relatively decent weather, generally not too cold or too hot, if it wasn't too dreary or rainy. It's still May, so that garnered some sunshine. So, unless something else unnatural is going on in today's weather, Tsubaki is wearing a beige, long sweater coat that is closed at only one button over her chest. The delicate material hanging free and loosely on her form, the rest of the length opens downward and behind her, sweeping outward at the back of her legs. She is dressed in comfy layers of cotton and other breathable natural fibers over a trendy belt and light-colored jeans with soft leather boots on her feet.

Tsubaki enjoyed travelling when she could. When Mei Feng had mentioned about the little excursion to her at the beginning, Tsubaki was interested, to say at least. She rather enjoyed visiting this part of Europe for the time being. Fixing her silver gaze ahead, her shoes make gentle tapping steps across the pavement, she is approaching the church entrance where there appears to be an individual already there and knocking at the door.

[Trigger]

@E:PL Chicago
[July 7th, 2072, 8:53 PM; Northside Corridor, Chi Town
Commlink PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons

It took a minute to get his baggage from the claims wheel, and a few stares (but his credentials named him a field journalist, so no one questioned him), and then into one of the many taxis waiting outside the Airport. It took a few extra nuyen to get him as far into Northside as the driver dared, which was surprisingly half the distance he needed to get the lake's edge.

Hauling his pack onto his shoulder, Ælias checked his Scout in it's holster in his coat (the security barely blinked at the little thing when he declared it, saying something about bigger pieces on housewives as he walked past), and started on towards the lake. The mapsoft he grabbed at SeaTAC (35 (IMG:style_emoticons/default/nuyen.gif) after airport inflation, but with this program came with an optional subscription service for auto updates, a simple spoof for him, and that made him feel secure for as long as he had Matrix access) showed that he was just past the I-90, I-94 interchange, and that he had about 4 miles of city street to cover due east to the Lake. His little Aztechnology Crawler kept up beside him, scanning around them as it walked beside Ælias. With his goggles on, respirator at the ready around his neck, pack on his back (his satellite link set up on the top, a fiberoptic cable running down to his skinlinked commlink), and lizard drone at his side, he nearly looked the part of a CZ resident, minus a dozen layers of dirt, grime, and soot. He pulled a Snuff cigarette from his pack and started east, taking lazy drags from the joint and keeping his eyes and other senses open for danger.

[mister__joshua]

@E:PL Chicago
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; En-route to Chicago]

Although it had only been a year she was more than used to the leering her new form induced, and had learned to get all she could out of it. While not the most comfortable journey, the look she gave the captain while boarding ensured that she certainly travelled a lot better than anyone else would have in this situation. Besides, she had gotten used to the travelling. It's all part of the job. Travelling commercially just means burning through more IDs unnecessarily.

As she prepared to disembark she decided it would be useful to start planning an out. A bit of light flirting scored her the commcode of a smuggler more than willing to make a risky z-zone pickup if needs be. Sometimes it was too easy.

She'd got the whole night before the meet, and she didn't need a whole lot of sleep. Time to take in some of the local 'culture'

[JxJxA]

@ E:PL
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]

Not waiting for Mr. Hill to answer, Gemeaux glides over to Charlie and stands alongside him.

"If you do not mind, I will take a quick look around the area. As I am the hired muscle for this sojourn, it would behoove me to play that part, oui? I shall not be more than a moment, but I would ask that you let your congregation know that the man in the jacket with the chameleoned Walther MA-2100 is on your side."

He takes quick strides to his luggage, opening one suitcase and gently taking out the joyau de la couronne of his weapon collection---Le Dernier Mot. While he often employs the other aspects of his arsenal, this is the one gun he uses to finish most of his wetwork. It has provided the last touch on many a manslaughter masterpiece, both from a distance and in close range.

<<[Gemeaux]: Vivienne, please switch to combat mode: wires on and weapons free.>>

<<[Vivienne]: Understood, Damien. Bringing your systems online right now. Safeties are off, smartgun systems are active, and your sniper rifle's chameleon coating is syncing with the background light scatter. Are you in trouble?>>

<<[Gemeaux]: Not yet, my dear, but I do not want to take any chances. No man may master Fortune. When she loves you she is wonderful, but when she spurns you...she is horrid.>>

Gemeaux slips on his goggles and goes over to a window at a side exit of the church. Carefully, he peers out of the window. Then he slips stealthily out of the church and begins walking about the church, searching for a hint of potential danger...

[Aria]

E:PL/UK Gemeaux
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]

You slip out of the church like a ghost, taking care to stick to the shadows cast by the weak May sunlight. A figure has approached the main doors to the church and is brazenly knocking…Charlie opens the door…

E:PL/UK Mordred

At your knock a slightly flustered, suited black orc with brightly polished tusks opens the heavy timber door and stares at you in incomprehension. You feel a rush of wind and moments later hear a dull crack and the orc disappears back into the church with a surprised look on his face.

E:PL/UK Tsubaki

The gunshot was silenced but unmistakable…things are about to get interesting…

[RdMarquis]

Mordred turned around, hearing Tsubaki's footsteps.

Was she here for services? Or for the same reason he was? Either way, he decided to try entering the church. There was the possibility that the people thought he was an intruder. And it just wouldn't sit right with him to expose a stranger to possible harm.

His hand had not quite touched the doorknob when things got out of hand. Mordred straightened his arm, allowing the attached mechanism to deposit a pistol into his waiting hand. "Get down!" He shouted at the woman. The adept ran for cover, pulling Tsubaki along. His eyes darted around, looking for the shooter.

[Fairy]

@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada

As the door to the church opens, Tsubaki is greeted by the appearance of a well-dressed orc. She is about to allow herself inside when—

BLAM!

The silver-haired woman's face goes into an immediate flinching of the eyes. What...? There is the instinctual turning of the body and the casting of a glance over her shoulder, but instead she looks there only to be blindsided at the corner of her eye—

"Get down!" He shouted at the woman.

—and carried away by the arm beside a green hedge and behind the side of the church building. The appearance of a pistol in the stranger's other hand doesn't go unnoticed. Tsubaki lays her hand around the wrist that belongs to the hand that firmly grips the her arm and waits to feel the man finally decide to separate it from her. By the hesitant darting of the man's blue eyes, Tsubaki figures he gathers just as much as she does about the surprising turn of events. The woman presses her lips together into a thin line. Best to ask questions later, then...

She remains by the blue-eyed stranger very quietly. Hmm... All the while the man is distracted with searching the area for details, Tsubaki will idly tie the two drawstrings to the man's hoodie sweatshirt together into a knot and bow at his chest. Perfect. Better the drawstrings to the sweatshirt than the laces on his shoes, right?

[Aria]

@E:PL/Chi Town / Ælias & Erebus
[July 7th, 2072, 10:57 PM; Northern Corridor Docks, Chicago]

Inbus is waiting for you. In the flesh he’s a bedraggled, almost emaciated looking elf with a burning need of a wash. You know, however, that physical appearances are not what matters when it comes to pushing a craft at mach three across a number of state borders without the inconvenience of a customs inspection…

E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:23 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]

The place is lively, even more so than any other shadow enclave you’ve ever been to. It makes the Crime Mall in Puyallup look positively tame by comparison. There’s a strange mix here of survivalist types rubbing shoulders with street leathered gangers and professionally dressed corp soldiers. The goods on sale range almost as much but the one thing they have in common is a robustness…delicate electronics aren’t much use without a Tuff™ casing and the venerable AK or pump shotgun doesn’t even need to bother with those…batteries definitely not included!

This is Horde territory as is evidenced by the large number of orcs here…but for you that just means that nobody is likely to make trouble, or otherwise upset business. Fawkes himself greets you as you wander through the various stalls…it seems like he has been inspecting you. He’s almost as colourful as his establishment, a giant of an orc with ebony skin and a gleaming white mane of hair. His tusks are capped with engraved silver gewgaws and they are clamped around a massive pipe that exudes a pungent odour of something more than tobacco.

“This way, this way, Argent said you would be coming today. How is the old witch…?”

[Trigger]

E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons

Ælias strolls along the bazaar, his long hair shaggier than usual, small bits of it braided with small beads worked in. The color of his face and neck were quite a few shades darker than their usual pale tone, and the nanopaste he wore created small pock marks in his cheeks and a distinct ridge above his left eyebrow. He wore his gear from the day before, his now returned Predator holstered at his side. His commlink was strapped to his left wrist, wireless off, with a fiberoptic cable running up his sleeve to datajack on his left temple, actually a trode disguised as a fake datajack, a simple disguise that also granted him a connection to the disposable link on his wrist. He was Walter Simmons, a hacker slash part time journalist, a gruff ork with an eye for action.

"She'z doin' well. Don't see her much outside da 'Trix, though, so wadda I know?" Ælias answers the other ork with a laugh. He sounds generally mirthful, though his eyes move around constantly, watching the people around him, always on the look out for trouble.

[Notsoevildm]

@E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Charlotte Church

Copperhead is hot and sweaty and, despite her over-sized sunglasses, is developing a pounding headache from squinting against the glare. The local ork gangers are out in force but when she asks them about Fawkes, they all parrot the same response: You don't find Fawkes, he finds you. So she wanders the stalls, staying in the shade as much as possible.

At a stall selling army fatigues, she negotiates with the tiny asian for a 'genuine' UCAS jungle cap. She grins at the asian's feigned shock when she asks if he has any 'genuine' UCAS jungle cap knock-offs at a better price and they barter back and forth over a few yen before agreeing on a price. As she is adjusting the cap in the mirror next to the stall, she spots the two orks heading her way. The black one must be Fawkes. He walks like he owns the place. The other one she doesn't recognize.

She makes a final adjustment to the cap and turns to face them. She catches the flaps of her long coat with steel fingers and draws it back, planting her fists on her hips and letting them get a good look at her. Her scaled arms gleam in the sunlight and her pale torso and legs are also ridged with the scales of her dermal armor. A keen eye can even see the pattern of the scales through the bright green sports bra and cycle shorts which is all she seems to be wearing under the coat.

At the two close on her, her face darkens at the mention of Argent and the ork's off-hand remark. A forked tongue tastes the air between gritted teeth.

"Oh yeah, ssshe's doin' real well for sssomeone who recently sssurvived two attemptss on her life and whosse man ended up a greassy sssmear on da tarmac coz a some fraggin' corper. At least he won't be trying ta off her againssss." she hisses at Ælias.

Calm, child. You sshould not reveal your ssecretss sso eassily.

She rolls her neck, cracking it to ease the sudden tension in her shoulders.

Sorry mama. Frag, I thought I was over that business.

Turning back to Fawkes, she holds out a large metal hand and, forcing a smile, continues in a more friendly tone, "You must be Fawkes. My friends call me Charlie, but you can call me Copperhead."

[JxJxA]

@ E:PL/UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
[Erika Elite, ID "Maximilien Danton"]

Gemeaux's jaw literally drops open when he sees Charlie open the door for the unknown traveler. A flood of nascent chastising remarks thunder about his stream of consciousness, but only "You idiot!" can form before the appearance of an exotic, silver-haired woman followed the telltale swoosh of a silenced slug divert his attention. He watches in horror as the poor orc falls back into the church, shifting his focus back to the task at hand.

Shit. What a pisspoor bodyguard I am turning out to be...

<<[Gemeaux]: Hill, it looks as though our mutual friend's hunters have arrived. I would advise that we move the man and his son as quickly as possible, although I hope you have a spare driver. Monsieur Charles may need you to perform les derniers sacrements. Oh, stay away from windows, and don't open any doors no matter who knocks.>>

When he sees the strangers enter the church, he spins a web of whispered insults and begins to slip back inside the church...

[RdMarquis]

@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
SIN: Spencer Lovett

Mordred watched the woman enter the church. Now he just had to get himself out of the line of fire. Trying not to be seen, the adept cautiously moves to a limo parked nearby. Crouching, he reaches a hand to pull off his hooded sweatshirt. And that point, he finds the neat little bow. You've got to be kidding me. Mordred quickly undoes the bow, then pulls off his clothes, stuffing them into his bag. The armor he had on underneath was coated with ruthenium polymers, which made it easier for him to hide. Mordred then loaded his gun with stick and shock rounds. Unconscious was better than dead. He needed answers on who was trying to capture the technomancer.

The shot was fired from somewhere across the street. Mordred remained kneeling by the car, waiting for the shooter to make a move.

[Fairy]

@E:PL UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN=Active; SIN:Nina Okada

Tsubaki recalls the church entrance being unlocked. So, parting ways with the armed stranger, the woman hurries around the corner of the building, slips through the church's front doors there, and very cautiously, shuts them behind her. She puts her finger and thumb around a small device on the door, and locks it. Inside, the woman turns around, and carefully moves through hallway. Avoiding the windows, of course. Her hand reaches behind her, beneath her clothing, and produces a silenced Kompakt pistol within her grasp. Small and concealable, it is decent for something that is mostly convenient. Tsubaki likes to be subtle.

[Trigger]

@E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Walter Simmons

Ælias winces internally at Copperhead's remark about Argent, he had only just met the elf before his run, and hadn't know about the fixer's recent troubles. That didn't give the... naga-troll?... reason to snap at him in front of Fawkes, but what could he do about it. Ælias just let it slide by with a cocked head and shrug, as if to say 'Whaddya expect me to do about it?'.

As Copperhead introduces herself to Fawkes, Ælias concentrates on the code around him, taking in a small breath and releasing with it a mental call. His whistle goes out for a Data Sprite, a moderate search-fairy made of digital green light, but what appears is not what he called for. An angry, yellow swarm of search-bot bees appears in his node, resisting his call and try to sting him for his attempt. Ælias quickly shunts the swarm out of node, brushing away the code with a mental push.

The Resonance here is sour....angry. The patchwork nature of this grid is not very hospitable. I am already looking forward to leaving this place.

He turns his attention back to the other two metas he is standing with in the Bazaar as they finish their introductions. Ælias then takes his turn to introduce himself to the scaled one, "Name's Ælias, datz what my friends and everyone else can call me."

He makes sure to get a good look at her face, as well as Fawkes', using his SimRig form to record every second of this, transmitting it into the link on his wrist, pretty much the only thing it is good for in his mind. That and keeping up appearances. The photos would be used as data for some searching later, or whenever he could get a friendly sprite to come around and help him out.

[Notsoevildm]

@E:PL/Chi Town / All
[July 8th, 2072, 10:24 AM; Fawkes’ Bizarre Bazaar, Northern Corridor, Chicago]
PAN - Passive ; SIN - Charlotte Church

Ælias! Frag, he's the contact Argent mentioned for run. Good job girl, piss off the J at the start of the meet!

She rolls her eyes, mercifully concealed behind the sunglasses and turns to Ælias.

"Sorry chummer. Didn't mean to snap at you but I was dere when Ember bought it. Dat last act cost him his life but saved mine."

She pulls the long coat back tight around her body and pulls down the cap.

"Now dat we got da pleasantries out of da way, what say we gets outta da fraggin sun before I catch on fire, neh?"

[JxJxA]

@ E:PL/UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:15:33; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]
PAN - Active ; SIN - Maximilien Danton

Now back within the confines of the church, Gemeaux begins making his way quickly back to Anselm, the sorcier technologique, and his son. At the very least, he needs to make sure they stayed safe.

<<[Gemeaux]: Hill, I am moving to you. I will do what I can to make sure our friend's hunters miss their quarry.>>

He is a little disturbed by the priest's strange onset of silence, but the clergyman had not been talkative to begin with. He hopes nothing has befallen them---or worse, this being the most elaborate and nonsensical trap set up by Shiawase to return their prodigal asset to their fold. Although he would have to hand it to them, this would certainly take the proverbial cake in "so crazy it might just work" schemes.

That moment of self-indulgent narcissism aside, he switches gears from moving stealthily to moving guardedly. He starts visually scanning his path for any potential threats, having Vivienne overlay his various visual imaging data on his goggle's HUD.

See no evil, hear no evil, hopefully means there is no evil...

[Aria]

@ E:PL/UK
[May 19th, 2072, 10:16:50; Church of Our Lady, 2 Connaught Road, Fleet, UK]

Gemeaux stalks through the church to locate Mr Hill and their package whilst the strange white haired lady crouches with gun in hand looking warily about her. Outside, sheltering from the sun, and hopefully from the angles of fire that the enemy might be using, Mordred waits for a movement. On a quiet Thursday morning there is little traffic and the gentle trill of birdsong...

...suddenly to your trained ears you hear a phutt and arcing over the street from behind the opposite building you see a trail of white smoke and something spangs off the bonnet of the limo before beginning to spew a cloud of noxious white smoke across the car park...a second muffled launch indicates another incoming round

...inside Gemeaux catches a glimpse of movement in the trees to the south west, so the foe are encircling you it would seem and there is little cover inside the church bar the wooden pews, it might be wise to prevent their entry, no? ...