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Heirin and Heirout
Topic Started: Nov 13 2017, 12:41 PM (331 Views)
The Cabaret Royale
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Cabaret Royale was known as one of the city's premier gentleman's clubs, serving the rich and well-heeled clients who could afford its services. Foreign dignitaries, government officials, titans of industry were known among its regulars. The spacious ground floor was the home to three fully-stocked bars, a buffet and no less than a dozen dance stages. The rooms in the floor above were reserved for gentlemen who wished more than a bit of private time with their favorite girls. It was a paradise for a gentleman with money and taste for exotic flesh.

It also has it's seedy underside. The girls there are of various levels on standing in the Red Light District; some looking to move up and some are just looking to establish some recurring wealthy customers. It is also the seat of power for the Eavesdown Syndicate and home to The Boss, the man who controls it all.

It also is the home of Ink and his secret dungeon like playroom.
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Ink
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Ink's Dungeon

Ink stood there, blood on his knuckles, as well as a little on the cargo pants he wore. He was shirtless, even though it was quite chilly.

He was in his element and he was having way too much fun.

It would have been better if the Boss wasn't seething in anger about what had happened.

"Alex Marshall? Where did you take the data cube?" Ink said ever so calmly as he tilted his head one way and then the other, cracking the vertebrae there. "I can go on as long as you need to go before you give up the information you have."

He leaned in to Alex Marshall's face, making sure, his eyes caught his so he had attention of the courier.

"I am rather enjoying myself you know," he said as Alex's battered body hung from manacles at the ceiling, as well as his feet tethered to the floor. "But you have to ask yourself... How much can you take?"

With that he dealt a vicious blow to his ribs.

"And how long do you think the Boss will wait before he tires of you?"
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The Broker

The Broker smiled as two text waves were sent out. Well, not really simple waves... More like invitations to a party. She wondered if the two recipients were the type to play a little dangerously.

Or a lot dangerously.

But the money was excellent.

Quote:
 
Eleanor Abernethy,

A client of mine has listened to your sultry voice. It is wonderful, but it doesn't compare to the ravings about your other formidable skill.

Do you have sticky fingers, Miss Eleanor?

My client wants you to retrieve something from the Cabaret Royale. Something very important to them. It is extremely dangerous, but the payoff is well worth it.

How does 4,000 credits sound to you?

Respond to this wave if you are in the mood.


And then the other...

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Tara Blackthorne,

Your reputation has preceded you. A client of mine has inquired about retaining you for a body guard situation.

It's quite delicate and also quite dangerous. You'd have to keep on your toes, but the payoff is well worth it.

How does 4,000 credits sound to you?

Respond to this wave if you are in the mood.


Now, to see if they responded...
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Alex Marshall
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Alex blinked open his left eye as the right one seemed to not be working at the moment. "Tianshan, starboard monitor's out agin," he murmured, before focusing on the large man in front of him. Ink. Not Dink, though the moment of confusion on the big man's face had made Alex chuckle at the time, it was not a mistake he would make again.

He spat out blood, the sweet metallic taste reminding him of moderating fluid. His body was sore, but it wasn't much different than some of the beatings he'd endured during the war. His shoulders ached and his fingers were getting tingly-numb, but those were minor annoyances compared to the pounding in his head and the feeling in his ribs and guts.

Ink was asking a question, then, one he'd already asked a few times before Alex was fairly certain. "Alex Marshall? Where did you take the data cube?" "I can go on as long as you need to go before you give up the information you have."

Alex sucked in a breath when the goon hit him again, making his vision darken. The uncomfortably tight feeling in chest made him think a rib might be broken, and he panted a little to get some air back in his lungs. He took a shallow breath, then a deeper one. He focused his eye on Ink again, raising his head slightly.
"Check my *cough* logs. Set down, got grub, *cough* visited a lady-friend. Went to magistrates' cuz I had to. Came here. End log." He licked his cracked lips, the smell of his own blood and Ink's sweat mixing in his memory with the smell of Lilly's sweat and sex. "An' I jest want... to let you know, mister Murphy, this is not my best day ever."


"And how long do you think the Boss will wait before he tires of you?"

He gave a weak grin and shrug, rattling the manacles. "Don't you mind me nothin', I'll hang around here for a while..." He relaxed into the blow he knew would come, mouthing off had never helped once in his beatings but he just couldn't stop himself from saying it. "I arrived before th' deadline, and I didn't never once *cough* ever let your cube outta my sight."

Alex hoped that Ace and Emerson had gotten something out of the cube, anything, that might warrant someone saving his hide. A thought sprang into his mind - the girl in the alleyway, beaten and dead, the word THIEF carved onto her belly. He hoped he wouldn't end up beside her.
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Ink
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Ink tilted his head a little as Alex mumbled to himself a little.

"Tianshan, starboard monitor's out agin,"

It was a humorous comment and impressive to have been uttered when the guy's face was a mess. His right side especially. The eye was swollen and had a nice cut below it on his cheekbone. Lip was puffy and split. The jaw was bruising already. Ink had been mainly working him over with his left arm, but now perhaps, he needed to get some practice in with his right. You know... Symmetry. Ink liked the order that came with symmetry.

"Wouldn't worry about that ship of yours. I think pirates might have hit it. Seems to have disappeared," Ink mentioned nonchalantly with a little shrug of his shoulders. "I heard that dock security was looking into it, but they don't hold much hope."

He pushed at Alex's shoulder and watched him swing just a little.

"Are your shoulders burning yet?"

Finally, Alex started to talk a bit.

"Check my *cough* logs. Set down, got grub, *cough* visited a lady-friend. Went to magistrates' cuz I had to. Came here. End log."

Oh he already knew that. Ink tracked him across the docks via video feed. One of these days, he was going to get the entire dock wired.

"An' I jest want... to let you know, mister Murphy, this is not my best day ever."

Ink's jaw set and clenched in anger.

"Mister Murphy?" he hissed as he clocked Alex on the other side of his head. "Have you been digging around? You know, that ain't too healthy, plus it ain't too useful either. A name is a name and I only need one."

Alex shook the chains that held him aloft.

"Don't you mind me nothin', I'll hang around here for a while..."

Smart ass...

"I arrived before th' deadline, and I didn't never once *cough* ever let your cube outta my sight."

Now he was just pissing him off.

"So if you got here early, then perhaps you should have brought me the cube early. And if you never let it out of your sight, then why don't you have it any more?"

He took a breath as he pulled an extremely large hunting knife out of a drawer in there. He looked from the sharp blade to Alex's body and back, like he was trying to decide where he wanted to use it. Then he got an idea.

"Did you like your time with Lilly? She's quite talented, isn't she?" Ink asked. "Maybe I should bring her down here, see if she could shed some light on where the data cube could be. What do you think about that? You were with her when you supposedly had the cube in your possession. Did she take it from you while servicing you?"

The tip of the knife skated along Alex's collarbone. Enough that he would feel the edge, but not enough to cut the skin.

"Is she a thief Alex?" he snarled. "I don't abide by thieves. They ain't worth the space they take up."

Even when they were dead.
Edited by Ink, Nov 13 2017, 10:45 PM.
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Eleanor Abernathy
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"OI! GERROFF!"

Eleanor wiped at the damp spot on her sleeve with a paper napkin, which wetted and destroyed the cheap napkin more than it dried anything. Anyone who had ever heard her sing, but didn't know her otherwise, wouldn't believe it was the same voice.

"This is my bloody office right now!" she said, waving off the stumbling drunk, who may or may not have been aware of her at all. "You want to call it a tavern and get tits-up drunk in it, that's not my bloody problem but don't go sloshing that watered down piss bucket on me!"

The drunk stumbled on with his pitcher of beer, trying to make it a half pitcher by the time he returned to his seat. Eleanor flipped through the messages on her corpad with one hand, the thumb of her other idly brushing the gold ring on her left ring finger.

Nearly five years, but not much longer. Things are going to turn around.

Quote:
 
Eleanor Abernethy,

A client of mine has listened to your sultry voice. It is wonderful, but it doesn't compare to the ravings about your other formidable skill.

Do you have sticky fingers, Miss Eleanor?

My client wants you to retrieve something from the Cabaret Royale. Something very important to them. It is extremely dangerous, but the payoff is well worth it.

How does 4,000 credits sound to you?

Respond to this wave if you are in the mood.


She glanced around, her hand covering the screen, despite no one being close enough, or likely, sober enough, to read it. Satisfied, she moved her hand aside and read again.

Four thousand. Somebody wanted something right badly. Dangerous? Could mean a pack of trigger happy guards, an Alliance escort, a vengeance obsessed owner, lots of possible dangers. Maybe just hype to make the job sound important. You never knew until you talked to the client, got the story and a sense of who you were working for and who you were working against.

Job could be a dream, a nightmare, or a complete wagon load of bollocks.

The one thing she always asked herself was; WWSD?

Would Shane Abernathy take this? For four thousand, he'd still turn the job down if it had too much of a stink to it, but he'd gorram well take the meeting. There was no way she was going to pitch 4k in the bin without even putting a toe in the water.

Quote:
 
4,000 credits sounds pretty loud. What are the arrangements for hearing the rest of what it's got to say for itself?

And yeah, got ten, and I haven't met the danger could take any off of me


Hopefully, the job wouldn't stink. Four thousand nice, clean credits would go a long way toward securing a better future, and a bit of fun as well.

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The Broker

The Broker smiled at the message that came back from Eleanor.

Quote:
 
4,000 credits sounds pretty loud. What are the arrangements for hearing the rest of what it's got to say for itself?

And yeah, got ten, and I haven't met the danger could take any off of me


So a response was sent.

Quote:
 
Do you know the Cabaret Royale? Deep in the bowels of this place is where your prize will be. I can send you the schematics along with the obstacles you will encounter. Do you accept? 1,000 credits will be sent to you as an advance if you do.


Now to see if the songbird will take the offer.
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Alex Marshall
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Alex laughed, which turned to coughing. "Pirates in Eavesdown? Pull the other one, Mister M... Ink, metaphorically speakin'. I ain't been outta the world that long." Besides, anyone who tried would find the engine completely unresponsive and the grav plating turned up to a very uncomfortable degree, he thought.

Mister Murphy?" he hissed as he clocked Alex on the other side of his head. "Have you been digging around? You know, that ain't too healthy, plus it ain't too useful either. A name is a name and I only need one."

Alex looked at Ink with a pained expression, which wasn't hard to do. "It was on th' bloody package. I can read," he added defensively.

When Ink continued to talk, Alex's heart stilled. He tilted his head and narrowed his left eye. "It was you, weren't it." It came out as a statement instead of a question. "That girl in th' alley. You done that. Carved her up like she weren't no person at all, didn't ya?"
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Ink
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Ink stared at Alex as the man tried to laugh everything off and ended up coughing.

Must have a broken rib in there somewhere, he thought.

He tested that out with a smile and a stiff jab of his finger into the guy's side.

"Pirates in Eavesdown? Pull the other one, Mister M... Ink, metaphorically speakin'. I ain't been outta the world that long."

Ink's smile turned into a macabre grin.

"Been out long enough," he said as he gave him another poke. "The pirates here are quite clever and also very well funded. A well placed magnetic plate on the bottom of a ship with a strong engine can scoop up another and whisk it away without a whoopsy daisy"

Ink shrugged.

"A strong EMP fries out the electrical system and the next thing you know, you got spare parts," he told him. "That is what I have heard anyway. I wouldn't really know since I am such the law abiding type."

Although the only laws Ink abided by were the ones the Boss set.

As for the use of his unused and unneeded last name? The guy readily gave an explanation.

"It was on th' bloody package. I can read,"

Ink stroked his chin as he considered this. The person who sent him to thing will be reprimanded as well.

"It was you, weren't it." "That girl in th' alley. You done that. Carved her up like she weren't no person at all, didn't ya?"

Ink shrugged ever so easily again.

"Unsanctioned thievery isn't personable, so 'person' status is therefore waived. It's a thief's own fault if something like that would happen."

Ink's eyes narrowed on Alex then.

"So do you think Lily is the thieving type?"
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Eleanor Abernathy
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Quote:
 
Do you know the Cabaret Royale? Deep in the bowels of this place is where your prize will be. I can send you the schematics along with the obstacles you will encounter. Do you accept? 1,000 credits will be sent to you as an advance if you do.


Right. There was the danger. A bit dramatic though. Deep in the bowels of this place is where your prize will be? Were there catacombs and a dragon? The hooded figure in the tavern booth awaits your reply. Are you brave and stalwart adventurers?

If the information was good, it ought to be doable, at least if there weren't people sitting right on it. A bit eccentric? Well, that's just the way of things, innit?

Quote:
 
Right, I'll take a bite on it. How's the clock ticking on it? Fast or slow?


Eleanor sat back and waited for a reply. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Whatever those used to be.
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Tara Blackthorne
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Lookin' for a fight!
Tara Blackthorne, wander, veteran, mercenary, church-goer and dreamer was starving. Her stomach growled low and long, a rumble vaguely reminding her of the artillery batteries that she'd heard echoing across numerous battles and planets. Still, the days of mass combat were well behind her now, as were the days of an independent Jefferson, gone too. Now she was one woman, alone, looking in the whole wide 'Verse for one man, a man who didn't want to be found. Tara was a Bible-thumper through and through and she was starting to doubt she'd ever have the miracle that finding ol' Wildback would require.

Still, a girl had to live, which required money for food, so she'd turned to selling her shotgun and saber to more reputable forces. Tara had, as far as she was aware, begun to build something of a reputation, a reliable scrapper with a moral compass that could be trusted to fight when others would have quit.

The last job hadn't paid particularly well, but those bandits had it coming and she'd been happy to help the farmers with their delivery. Still, moving from job to job wasn't any way to build up capital she needed a steady job, or windfall check, information cost money, and if she was every going to find him she'd need plenty of information.

And food, I need some food too. Man, what I wouldn't give for a mystery meat stew, or taco.

Just before she drifted off into daydreaming about the street vendor's sweet and sour chicken her corepad beeped, signifying a new message had arrived. Moving off to the side of the general foot traffic, Tara read the message.

Quote:
 
Tara Blackthorne,

Your reputation has preceded you. A client of mine has inquired about retaining you for a body guard situation.

It's quite delicate and also quite dangerous. You'd have to keep on your toes, but the payoff is well worth it.

How does 4,000 credits sound to you?

Respond to this wave if you are in the mood.


"Four thousand! Hell if that's not God's blessin' my daddy's not Tom Blackthorne!" The words slipped out at the thrilling possibility shining before her eyes. She could really get herself set up for that kind of cash, maybe track down some leads...it would certainly be enough for a proper meal and bed-rest.

Careful Tara, remember St. Paul's words, test the spirits. This could be a trap, or some low down liar lookin' to misuse your gift...

Still, it was worth a response.

Quote:
 
Well thank you kindly, bodyguardin's not to bad work.

I don't mind a little bit of danger, or keepin' on my toes. I also like that price.

Who and where would I be workin'?


Now to find out more about this mysterious offer.
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Alex Marshall
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When Ink poked him in the ribs, Alex sucked in another breath, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. Definitely broken rib, he thought. It made concentrating on the questions a little harder.

"Been out long enough," Ink said as he gave him another poke. "The pirates here are quite clever and also very well funded. A well placed magnetic plate on the bottom of a ship with a strong engine can scoop up another and whisk it away without a whoopsy daisy."

Ink shrugged.

"A strong EMP fries out the electrical system and the next thing you know, you got spare parts," he told him. "That is what I have heard anyway. I wouldn't really know since I am such the law abiding type."

"Course you are, sir, course you are," Alex chuckled, his head swimming. "A box on Beylix - I been threatenin' Tianshan wi' that for years, but he don't listen none."

Alex let the next few words Ink spoke roll off him, as his mind started to drift away with the pain. He wiggled his fingers slowly, making sure he could still feel them - they had started going numb, and he really didn't want Ink to focus on them like he had with his ribs. The man was strong, that was for certain, and he definitely enjoyed his job.

Ink's eyes narrowed on Alex then.

"So do you think Lily is the thieving type?"

Alex blinked a few times and refocused on Ink. "No sir I do not. I think she is a fine upstandin' lady and I intend on callin' on her again." A bolt of inspiration struck him, and his eye widened. "Jian gui - that bootlicker wi' th' sash. Had some papers for him to sign, and he tossed my credits on th' ground, near as you please." Alex quirked an eyebrow, which was a lot harder than he thought as his head swayed slightly. "Near Mama Wa's. Something White Pub. Unlucky color, dong ma?"
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The Broker

With Tara

Quote:
 
Well thank you kindly, bodyguardin's not to bad work.

I don't mind a little bit of danger, or keepin' on my toes. I also like that price.

Who and where would I be workin'?


That was quick, but then again, this was a job that needed immediate attention.

Quote:
 
Cabaret Royale. You'll be working with someone adept in getting through obstacles that you might come across. Sooner rather than later. Sit by the stage near the dressing rooms.


And a picture was sent.

With Eleanor

Quote:
 
Right, I'll take a bite on it. How's the clock ticking on it? Fast or slow?


The Broker smiled. Eleanor was pretty much signing on, it seemed.

Here was the written response:

Quote:
 
There is an expiration date on the retrieval. Time is therefore of the essence. Meet your associate at the Cabaret Royale. The item is slightly large. You might need some help to extract. She'll be the one by the stage near the dressing rooms. Deliver the retrieval to the Lothario.


And a picture was sent.

Afterwards - Sent to the Requestor

Quote:
 
Your favor has been dispatched. I hope it is to your liking.



OOC: Feel free to post any further thoughts - when you are ready to begin with the next phase, please PM abbey
Edited by abbey, Dec 30 2017, 05:43 AM.
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Ink
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Ink's lips curled up into a cruel smile as he listened to Alex talk.

"Course you are, sir, course you are," "A box on Beylix - I been threatenin' Tianshan wi' that for years, but he don't listen none."

Tianshan? And the "sir" thing? At least he was finally showing some respect.

"Tianshan?" Ink asked, shoving his finger into Alex's ribs again. "You have a partner? I'm hoping he ain't on that sorry ship of yours. Would hate to see a body get parted out as well."

He could see Alex trying to keep his wits about him, but he was fading a bit. And that was a bit of a disappointment. He had to get his attention. Make him stay conherent. Otherwise, this would be no fun at all.

So throwing Lily onto the table for discussion seemed to do the job.

"No sir I do not. I think she is a fine upstandin' lady and I intend on callin' on her again."

Ink stroked his chin for a moment looking like he was deep in thought.

"Maybe I should take the time to call on her myself. Been thinking about it for a while. Been a while since I had someone of her caliber. What is she now, a Gem? Somehow I think she could handle a guy like me."

Ink didn't know if that statement was what got Alex talking or not, but he finally gave him something more.

"Jian gui - that bootlicker wi' th' sash. Had some papers for him to sign, and he tossed my credits on th' ground, near as you please." "Near Mama Wa's. Something White Pub. Unlucky color, dong ma?"

Ink's eyes assessed him again.

"What kind of papers and where did you deliver those?" he asked as he pulled a stem phone out. "And what did the guy look like?"

And then just to keep him honest, he placed a call.

"Monkey. Bring Lilly down here. Quickly."
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Tara Blackthorne
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Lookin' for a fight!
Tara didn't have to wait long for a response. Punctuality was something she appreciated in a client as it was a virtue she determined to keep herself. Not everyone was so adept at routine, of course, but the military life had beat it into her and it wasn't about to let go.

Quote:
 
Cabaret Royale. You'll be working with someone adept in getting through obstacles that you might come across. Sooner rather than later. Sit by the stage near the dressing rooms.

Someone good at getting through stuff eh? Sounds a little shady.

At the mention of the Cabaret Royale Tara crinkled her nose in disgust. It was a place known to her, peddlers of flesh, lust and perversion. God's sacred gift put on display in an unholy fashion. She was a great admirer of the human form, its beauty and many pleasures, which she sampled more than a good Christian should admit, yet there was a sacred element to it, an intimacy meant to be shared between lovers and such places stripped it away.

She almost rejected the contract.

But then she remembered what she needed, how much four thousand credits could get her, what that money might mean for her future and Hunter's. So she would bare the location and deal with the Cabaret, at least for a time. Many people met in such places, away from the private eyes for many reasons. So she would go and determine what those reasons were.

Quote:
 
I'm on my way.


Besides, if the job isn't too my liking I'll quit it. And if they won't let me...well I carry a shotgun for a reason.
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