|
|
Post by Bixir on Dec 14, 2023 6:04:58 GMT
Ræmen perched low on the precipice of the building, practically like a gargoyle. His feline eyes scanned the urban horizon for any new updates. This planet was constantly enveloped in a state of nighttime. As a result, this hub was always alive, every part of it lit with neon no matter what time it was. There was always something going on, even if you couldn’t see it. Ræmen did… usually. The mission was simple. Find the dealer. Head him off before the exchange point. Relieve him of his package. Bring the package home. Easy. Straightforward. It was a routine thing, no setbacks or surprises. As far as it had looked, that was exactly what it was going to be. In this neck of space, things were very much business as usual, especially for them. Even with their luck, there was no way that anyone could screw this up. Twenty minutes, in and out. Then, he saw the explosion. Even from the slum Ræmen was squatting in, he could see the smoke trailing from the high-rise downtown. The Praxii narrowed his eyes. He had to give it to the cat. |
|
|
|
Post by Beriadan on Dec 22, 2023 18:18:16 GMT
Ten minutes earlier...
The cat dropped down into a dark alley. Neva had been stalling the rooftops, staying out of sight and above the busy, chaotic streets of the city's underbelly. This place was a hive of scum and villainy, though Neva wasn't exactly adverse to that. This job, however, required some stealth and finesse. A bit of charisma, which Neva had plenty of.
The job was simple. Neva had twenty minutes (now seventeen) to find the dealer and swap his package for something inticing. Like his life. Neva had been to this planet before, and knew some of the more dangerous bars. The one sitting opposite her dark alleyway was one of the roughest. Neva smirked to herself. It was just the place where a shady dealer would be found before heading to the rendezvous point, only a short walk nearby.
With confidence, Neva stepped out from the alley, pushing her way through the crowd and into the neon entrance of the bar. Found her way to the bar, nodded to the bartender for a drink. She turned, elbows on the bar, eyes scanning the room in a fairly nonchalant way. Her intel had told her that the dealer would be in here, waiting for the package, before heading straight for his own drop-off point.
Fifteen minutes left.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bixir on Mar 31, 2024 3:35:09 GMT
No one paid Neva any mind as she wove her way into the establishment. She was low on the freak scale relative to what this part of the galaxy had to offer. That, and the people here knew better than to ask questions of strangers. Neva seemed to be as welcome in this place as anyone else. The bartender ambivalently slid a see-through cylindrical can of a dark green drink over to Neva before returning to his duties. He'd be over for the change in a little bit. This place was crowded. There were joints like this all over the planet. Though the target was supposed to be in the area, the odds were still slim that she would... there he was.He was a gaunt person, tall even when he was sitting, enough that he had to hunch over to avoid hitting the low ceiling in this place. He was covered in metal and scrap, robot-like but very likely not a robot under all of that. His hood-helmet was focused on a datapad held loosely between claws that were most definitely not robotic, close to his face. It was too difficult to tell if he had anyone with him. The part of the bar that he was sitting in had high traffic - any number of the menacing aliens traipsing about could be waiting to pounce on anyone that got close... that number could also be zero. It was Neva's call to make. Whatever he was doing, he hadn't noticed her yet. Fourteen minutes. |
|
|
|
Post by Beriadan on Apr 2, 2024 11:32:03 GMT
Neva drank deep from the liquid. For a place like this, it was actually good. Nearly drinkable, in fact. Her eyes darted across the room once again after she had identified her target. Nobody else of suspicion leapt out at her, or at least nobody more suspicious than the rest of the clientele. Was he really alone? That wasn't the best news of the day. He looked like he could do any number of lethal things to her on his own. She smirked, taking another drink, barely even wincing at the acrid green liquid slowly slithering down her throat. It was go time.
Neva peeled herself from the bar (in a literal sense as well as figurative, as it held a layer of sticky grime that could have been decades in the making) and slipped through the crowd. At her waist hung a variety of objects, ranging in size and shape. She was quick enough to grab one and make use of them, if the time came. One hand held the remainder of the green drink, and as she approached the table, Neva found her feet catching on someone else's legs. She felt herself come forward, releasing her drink and grabbing the table before her, which just so happened to be his.
"Oi, ye watch where yer leavin' yer daft legs, ya bastard!"
The drink flew through the air, on a trajectory to hit the dealer right on the head. Neva was already turning, swinging a chair into the unsuspecting alien who had just become part of her plan. Not that her plan was anything more than "cause chaos".
Twelve minutes left.
|
|
