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[With Kartono's response having been given, Syringe gives him a firm nod, then turns their head back to look at #63(b) and Omen.] "Well, then. I believe that settles that. If we are to be working together, though, I believe we'll need to get to know each other on a more personal level than... simple feelings of recognition, within the deepest recesses of our very beings. I assume that's what drew us four together, anyhow, yes?"
[They flourish their arms a bit and give a polite, if dramatic, bow to their new cohorts.] "You may know me as Syringe. An emissary of the most noble, splendid, immortal, and supremely powerful Gods—" [A quick wink to Omen, as they straighten their posture back upright.] "the very same Ones that have ordained your, and now our, collective goal. And you are...?"
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Sixty... three. B. #63(b). I am a guide, a vanguard, a scout.
Again, the unit stumbles on its name, clearly trying to say something else, which it can't quite articulate.
This one with me is Omen. I will let them finish introducing themself themself, though they've... they've already given a name. If they wish to say more, that is their choice. I do not have a place to stay here yet. There is no base of operations. Unfortunate. We need to find one, if we are to achieve this goal. Four elements is enough to start, but four of anything alone cannot destroy a decentralized company. The base of operations. It would be best in some poorly surveilled, underpoliced part of town. Ideally we need more bases, so that if we lose one, we can move to the next, but better to have one than none. Any opinions on this route?
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"Oh, if introductions are in order... The name's Kartono," the man introduced himself as he tips his hat, "I do odd jobs in various places. It's nothing special, really."
He shrugged, before continuing on. "But regardless, it's a pleasure to meet you all here. I hope we can work together towards our goal."
... hm. Bases. It definitely would be useful to have some place to stay here, even if it's not quite a base like what the bot says. "It might be best to find one together. Maybe we can ask some of the locals about places we can stay at? Though, if nothing else, I suppose we could just stay at some abandoned or otherwise empty place for the time being."
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"I'd elaborate on my past, but alas. It seems the city has done an excellent job at scrubbing my past life's achievements."
Or did it...? The conversation about a base sparks a memory: The whereabouts of his old base, the one where he hosted his operations and gathered his companions. Even though he had spectacularly failed in his previous rebellion and paid for it with his life, one thing he knew for certain is that Mission never found that base of his.
Down a certain alleyway, amidst the discarded commodities and mods, there were the remains of a jewelry store- anything even remotely precious having long been stolen. It was in a place that nobody really looked, or cared about working away such remains. It was the closest thing you'd get to the corpse of a storefront, and it was rotting for everyone to glance at, then look away without a second thought.
It was perfect for Omen's past life to claim as their base. The simple press of a certain brick behind the counter reveals a passageway hidden in the walls, which revealed a spiraling staircase, which then finally revealed his former home base.
And within the base... Oh, by the little gods, it's an absolute mess. He remembers that he and his companions had left the base in an absolute hurry, rushing to what should have been their grandest moment, and so the base is, once again to put it as blunt as possible, A Complete Mess. But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.
At least the table is still upright.
The issue is, he does not remember the exact location of that alleyway. A map would help him refresh his memory.
"A base... hm. I have an idea of where to look, but we'll need a map of this city. It'd save some time in finding the exact place to look."
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"Omen and #63(b). A pleasure it is to make your acquaintance, the both of you." [...And Syringe won't admit it overtly, but they're glad to finally learn Kartono's name as well. The last time they met didn't give either of them much of an opportunity for an introduction.
#63(b)'s mention of needing a base, and Omen following up with his desire for a map, gets them to think for a bit. A place for the group to consolidate operations would definitely be a nice thing to have, and the spirit seems to already have intuited just where they need to go—if only he could remember the directions to it.] "A... map, is what you need? Hm. Perhaps if we ask around, someone else might be able and more than willing to provide. I happen to have what some would call 'a way with words', as well as (hopefully) having earned the goodwill of the people through my deeds the same as my dearest Kartono here. If worse comes to absolute worst, maps are so dreadfully easy to come by that we could likely scrape one from the ground, assuming paying for it the honest way is out of the picture. We have multiple avenues from which we can approach this issue, is what I'm trying to say."
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#63(b) stands static for a moment, apparently thinking. Then it twitches slightly and starts speaking.
A base can be found if we find a map? Interesting. This city, it must have a tourism department. We should go there. Even if the city is profit driven enough to attempt to extract wealth from those who sit, it should have publicly accessible maps to guide people to where they can buy proper, high value things. That would be the most profitable option. A visitor's center would have a selection of maps and brochures. Hotels often have brochures by the check-in desk, and it's possible we'll be able to get one for free. After all, brochures are advertisements, and charging people for advertisements penalizes considering your products. At the very least, we'll be able to get directions to a visitor's center from a hotel, if it's an overnight one. And if we walk, we'll find a hotel soon enough. Is this option acceptable?
>Regardless of what anyone says, look around to see if there's any hotels or visitor's centers visible from where the group is, just in case we don't have to look around that far.
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Both plans seemed good for Omen- or the third, if you count the whole "scrape the floor for a map" approach. Since #63(b) already seems to be on the lookout for hotels and centers and Omen himself has no contacts to speak of, the least Omen could do is...
"Both will do just fine, but just in case the solution is right in front- or rather, under us, I'll see if we can really just find a map on the floor."
> Look for a map on the floor. Hey, who knows, maybe it'll save us all some trouble.
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He nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure we could find some sort of map one way or another. I'd be more surprised if nobody has one for the city, considering how big it is."
>Let's go with the 'asking people' approach. Any nearby passerbys around here? Do they happen to have a map?
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[Syringe sees Omen's endeavor and has to stop themself from laughing.] "I—I said it was if worse came to worst, daahling, ahaha! Ideally, we won't need to resort to that!"
> Seeing as it was your idea to begin with, join Kartono in looking at the nearby folk to see if anyone has a map—and more importantly, gauge whether or not you can convince them to let you borrow it.
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The benefits of trying to find your way in such a large city is that the populace seems to weave around you. Maybe it is an unconscious effect, the crowds turning away from the miraculous amongst them out of wariness, or reverence.
Consciously, though, the general reaction to you four is annoyance, of four people standing together and becoming the obstacle for the citizen walking to and from work, from bars filled with song and cries, from repairs and numbing drinks that just barely keep them hanging on until eventually, everything frays and you have to do it all over again. Two people even shove through you, not really paying attention to you four, but clearly being too inconsiderate and lazy to take the extra seven steps to go around your little group.
Upon further inspection, they seem to be yet more low level enforcers, whispering amongst themselves. Glancing mentions of glory, cowards, and seeking cash from "that highlev robot agent".
You don't need the ancient magic running through your veins to know that a base would be excellent right now. Or anything, really that can get you away from a scrape with some deadset Missionary.
#63(b).
>Regardless of what anyone says, look around to see if there's any hotels or visitor's centers visible from where the group is, just in case we don't have to look around that far.
Luckily for you, you're in city central. There's hotels scattered all over the place. The coffin type's the most common, one where you put you and all you have in a little capsule until daylight comes once more, and you head out to your everyday life. There's a couple of fancier ones, too, but the entrances you find for them are the service elevators, for the common worker. If you want to get into those, well, you're going to have to look either a lot shiner or a lot more terrifying than that.
Omen.
> Look for a map on the floor. Hey, who knows, maybe it'll save us all some trouble.
Well the floor's not the best place to look. There's scrap paper and broken screens posted all around, but if they had a map on them, it's hard to tell from all the footprints, soaked up puddles, general abuse, really. It would have saved you a lot of trouble, you admit, as a looming obelisk rises from the sidewalk behind you. An obelisk with peculiar symbols, almost resembling city blocks.
Kartono.
Syringe.
>Let's go with the 'asking people' approach. Any nearby passerbys around here? Do they happen to have a map?
> Seeing as it was your idea to begin with, join Kartono in looking at the nearby folk to see if anyone has a map—and more importantly, gauge whether or not you can convince them to let you borrow it.
You two begin looking for people that could seem to help you. Most people are occupied with themselves, but there seems to be one slender figure, leaning along the obelisk behind Omen, who is searching the ground beneath you for any hidden gem, or perhaps maybe contemplating to those little gods how he got here. It's not an uncommon occurrence.
Xer hands are stained with seagreen spray paint, with long, blond hair and a black holographic veil just barely hiding the steel and gold scales underneath their glowing blue eyes. And xey look at you, trying to remain relaxed: xey've clearly got the jitters.
"Wha-oh. You want to see the map. I mean. It's free, you know. You can look at it, I won't stop you. Just-hey, are you with anyone? Not that I'm in trouble, I mean-"
Xey're clearly blocking the map with xer body.
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..... well, at least they found a map. Even if it is obscured by this person.
"..... pardon me, but. You're .. sort of blocking our view of the map. Can you step aside for a moment? It won't be for long, I promise."
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[Ah, the map. Why didn't it occur to them to look at that for guidance first? Dah, even emissaries of the Gods aren't as infallible as Them, Syringe begrudgingly muses to themself as they examine the figure standing nearby. Xey say xey'll let them see the map, but xer body obscures it nonetheless, and xey're asking for affiliation... Their gaze, hidden behind their sunglasses, momentarily falls to xer hands and the paint staining them. A graffiti artist, perhaps? Well, that would certainly be inconvenient if xey happened to cover the part of the city Omen would need to inspect to jog his memory.
But no matter. Syringe turns their head up to address the figure directly.] "Ah, no, I wouldn't say we're 'with' anyone, in that sense—aside from perhaps each other. We're just a couple of friends wandering the city, and we happened to get a little... lost, you could say. Sorry for startling you, daahling, we really mean no harm. That being said, would you mind stepping out of the way a bit? So we can see the map and figure out where we are, and thus where to go from here."
> Gently attempt to convince the bystander that you and Kartono aren't going to get xem in trouble, and ask that they move so that you can see the map.
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The person seems to nod along. "Something about you guys makes me think I can trust you...something about your voice, and something about how you act. But uh..."
Xe taps their foot a couple of times, trying to think. "...wait, I know, cops can't say they're not cops, it's like...their fucking agimats prevent that shit, right? All programmed into that shit, put in their skin, are you cops? Just need to make sure. I don't think you're cops. But you could be cops. Missionaries, enforcers, cops-wow, how many times have I said cops, do you need to see the map? Here's the map. Do you guys need anything else? Fuck." Xe steps out of the way.
There is paint on the map, of course, but it doesn't obscure the part that Omen needs to look at, wherever that may be. It's yet more paintings of serpents, crawling around the borders of this map, as if they were climbing up the walls of Titania.
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"Cops?" [Syringe chuckles. This person was right, in their experience—the cops physically can't lie about not being cops, as their augments prevent them from such. Guess it's time for them to spell it out.] "You make me laugh, daahling. My friend and I aren't cops, nor are we in any way associated with Mission or its enforcers. Ordinary civilians, plain and simple! There, is that reason enough?"
[They glance at the graffiti xey left behind. Snakes, slithering around the map's borders, weaving their way through the scratches in the steel. Reminds them of the tales they've heard of more serpentine Gods, from all the different corners of the old world, back when the Little Gods weren't merely little, weren't able to be easily exploited by corrupt folks wearing crisp, pure white suits accented with sweet gold belying the greed in their hearts. The least Syringe can do is offer their sincerest compliments to xem for xer craftsmanship, right?]
"...A wonderful addition, you've put there. Genuinely! As useful as the map is, it's so painfully dull to look at sometimes. The pop of color in the corners is much appreciated! Not to mention it's a rather well-done art piece as well, especially for a quick graffiti doodle. All in all, very impressive. I hope it stays there for a while, but... you likely know how the Missionaries get when people attempt to make their own additions to its designs. A shame, really. But I'm nonetheless blessed to have seen it here and now."
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The person smiles, the little scale implants in the corner of their eyes glittering under the neon lights. Xe attempts to blurt out a thank you, but it comes out not as expected.
"My name is Pepsi Villanueva! Wait. Shit. Shit, I shouldn't be mentioning my name, next I'll tell you I crashed a motorcycle I drove uninsured-fuck!" Deep breath. Recover. "...Are you lost? New here?"
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Ah, more serpents, more omens. And they just so happen to not cover...
... the alleyway of Cuca. Omen tries to instinctively point at the alleyway only to realize that he lacks hands to do so.
The route is pleasantly simple- go north, then turn to the left at the first four-way intersection. One can easily notice the alleyway from the hanging cloaks that are suspended on wires across the upper parts of the alleyway. A little superstition, likely one of protest. The cloaks of the Brazillian bogeyman hang on those very wires, perhaps to say that their evil is lesser than what Mission commits on the daily.
"There. We simply follow north, then turn to the left at the first four-way intersection we see."
"We then look for the hanging cloaks suspended on wires high up- that is the alleyway's own little superstition, and the signal that we have found what we are looking for."
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06-27-2023, 02:58:30 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-27-2023, 03:03:19 AM by KungFuCutbug.)
"Pepsi." [...Definitely an odd name, in their opinion, but who are they to judge, considering their own name? They give a quick cursory glance around to make sure nobody is listening, and then chuckle to themself.] "Well, if we're to be introduced, you may call me Syringe Amano. And, um... don't worry too much about the motorcycle. If it bothers you that much, then your secret is between us and the Gods. We've... all been there, I assure you."
[Ah, the memories of their initial breakout. Good times. Even if it took them ages to find a new outfit and get their hair sorted out when the vehicle they were making their escape in crashed and exploded. Not that they'd dare keep anything from their days at Mission on-hand in the first place—name, hair, outfit and general appearance included—but they would've appreciated something more put-together to cover for them while they were looking than the rags they had to settle for until they found their suit. Curse the fire and its permanence.]
"Yes, to put it simply, we're lost—but, ah," [they interject, cutting themself off to spare a glance towards Omen,] "I believe we may have found what we're looking for, thanks to you. You have my sincerest gratitude, daahling. And it's a pleasure to have met you as well, Pepsi. Should fate be kind to us, this won't be the last we meet."
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#63(b), which has just watched Omen find a place and the other two talk with Pepsi, instead of trying to break into a hotel through the tradesman's entrance, quietly follows Omen's directions. It sticks to the shadows and the sides, trying to stay out of sight for some reason, despite there being very little risk. A base of operations.
Follow.
>Follow Omen's directions to get to the base of operations. Guide as necessary.
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... he'll admit, the Missionary comment hit a bit too close to home, even if he no longer works for the corporate (and even if he wasn't an enforcer by any means.) Fortunately, his fellow ex-Missionary got that cleared up, but it still felt .. awkward.
Kartono nodded, muttering a quick, "Thank you," to Pepsi before looking back at the map. (He'd note that that's a weird name, but ... Well. His fellows are named Omen, Syringe, and #63(b), so he won't really say much on that.) Soon, he glanced to the art accompanying the obelisk.
Snakes, drawn in such a way it feels as if they're climbing up to reach whatever awaits them on top. The stars above, perhaps? To catch a glimpse of whatever is left of the Creator, as the tales suggest? Perhaps something else entirely? Maybe it doesn't mean anything significant in the long run. Still, he can't help but ponder, in both amazement and curiosi—
.. ah, right. They were here for the map. And now they got the directions needed. Let's not get too sidetracked. "Is that all?" he asked to his fellow wanderers.
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"Yes, that is all. Thank you, Pepsi."
It might definitely not be the last time Omen and his group sees this person if they're lucky. Might as well attempt to build some camarad
"This was Very Cool."
...
The silence in Omen's head is deafening.
> After that fumble of words, follow the directions. North, then left at the first four-way intersection, then look for the cloaks hanged on high-up wires.
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06-27-2023, 16:44:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-27-2023, 16:45:40 PM by MadameButterflyKnife.)
And so, Pepsi bids you all goodbye. Maybe your paths will cross at one point, xe thinks to themselves. You seemed interesting enough, some peculiar folk under the endless lights looking for one of them that they could take for themselves. Xe watches as Omen leads the four to the cloaked alleyway, as more Mission enforcers seem to walk the streets.
Xe isn't safe, but that isn't exactly a revelation to xem. Xey've never been safe, as xe too, weaves around crowds, following the ever present sea serpent graffiti to who knows where. In a way, Kartono was right. These serpents were looking to the cosmos, for the fragments of a Creator that still pulses through the cosmos. But glimpses are not enough. They've never been enough, even for the desperate. No, the serpents desire more from the beauty from the universe. So much more.
>>the Cuca alleyway.
I won't make you use a strong action to follow the path. The whispers from a life Omen once led, long ago, back when they still had a hand to point the way towards victory or sacrifice, is enough. The cloaks still hang from the power lines, as he once remembered. There's a sense of darkness in this place, fear, but almost safety. That even at their most zealous, Mission itself would rather skim through this place than look at its deepest, darkest corners.
A couple of people have made their homes in this alley. People swing from rusted balconies, laundry hanging from clotheslined amongst the various cloaks. Maybe they saw the darkness and thought of safety. Maybe they are desperate, willing to look the fear they don't know in the eyes rather than the certain fear they do know, out in the streetlights.
And there, all the way at the end, is the jewelry store, rotten away. Closed stores are a rare sight these days: the small places get squeezed out, unable to make a living, and then the demolition starts immediately, to make way for yet another chain of endless names. It's not even always Mission doing it: there's other companies, just like them, looking for their next prey and waiting them out. Persistence predation, was it called?
Either way, you are here, but the watchful eyes are still a threat. How, exactly, will you stake yourself out here?
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#63(b) is looking around. Urban wastelands were where it was most active, when it was merely another scout. Even after it had deserted, it had stuck to such places, or glided around the edges. A jewelry store is a high-security location, even when closed. They are often fortified, excellent locations for a hidden headquarters. It takes the time to appreciate that choice. Enforcement is lax in wastelands, it can be nothing more, but security is high and surveillance is frequent. It is best to pass without notice, to be suspicious, but to appear to be being dealt with.
We should approach in small groups. The most suspicious of us should go first. I should go last. Omen leads, with Syringe at his side. Kartono trails, as if following them, some way behind. A few minutes later, I will approach, in the role of the enforcer, and enter after you. This will be the least suspicious way to do it, unless someone can think of a better one.
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Ah. Cuca Alleyway... yes, the memories have come back. He remembers that down this very alleyway was his old base, awaiting to be used once more.
The small piles of discarded junk weren't as notable of a landmark as the hanged cloaks of the Cuca, but they became a landmark to him all the same, maybe after the 5th or 7th return trip to home base. The contents of the piles themselves have changed, but he feels like some have only grown bigger ever since he last stepped foot in this alleyway.
"There. That's our destination- the jewelry store. The jewelry store itself should be safe, unguarded and hopefully empty."
"However, we're 4 attention-drawing figures, so I'd like to hear any suggestions-"
Omen turns to glance at #63(b).
"Ah."
"Any objections against the plans of this unit?"
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06-27-2023, 23:22:10 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-27-2023, 23:26:24 PM by KungFuCutbug.)
[Syringe dutifully follows Omen's directions, taking a thorough look around the alleyway once their destination is reached. A dingy, dark place of uncharacteristic disrepair compared to the rest of the city; though they still feel the ever-present gaze of the Little Gods here, it's obvious to them that Mission's vision has not turned here the same way in a long time. Still, that does not mean they're not being watched. A group such as these four would certainly catch the eye of anyone who happened to look in the right direction, and Syringe knows they themself are especially distinctive, being something of a minor celebrity in the Titanian slums.
They turn to #63(b) and Omen, nodding in acknowledgment of the android's plan to attempt to evade suspicion from any prying onlookers.] "Hm. Your proposition seems... fairly solid, to me anyhow. Might I ask why you have me and Omen grouped together, however? Do you happen to view the two of us as equally suspicious-seeming? Not that I would necessarily disagree with that assessment—it's simply honest curiosity."
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Small groups are less suspicious than a large group or one person alone. People recognize this, and will travel in small groups. Syringe, you and Kartono know each other personally. You look like you belong together. Together, you and Omen look mildly suspicious, as you do not know each other well. Kartono follows separately, so as to not make you look too familiar with one another. You appear to be coworkers. Thus, you appear like suspicious people trying to avoid suspicion. Kartono being alone and following serves two parts in addition. It increases confusion. Who is he? What does he do? Is he against or for whatever you're doing? It also makes it seem like you are broken up into small groups to avoid suspicion. This is true, but the reasoning behind it is different than someone watching might think.
The unit pauses in its reasoning for a bit, as if it got caught on something mentally. (Computationally?) It eventually begins speaking again, but the pause is just long enough to be slightly awkward.
That way, when I follow, anyone suspicious of you three relaxes. A unit is approaching to question these suspicious individuals. "I do not recognize the symbols, but they are symbols, so it is likely an enforcer, the problem is dealt with, if it is a problem" they will think, and go about their day. That is the plan.
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