Difference between revisions of "Server for Sly - RPLOG"

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As the others arrive, he&#39;d take Nena&#39;s hand and pull her in against himself, giving the tigress a quick squeeze and boop on the nose with his own. &quot;Heya gorgeous.&quot; He winks, and addresses the feline that&#39;d crept out of their hidey hole. &quot;And me without my handcuffs...&quot; Or was he? &quot;Here.&quot; he offers the binoculars to the feline. &quot;I&#39;m thinking find a shady spot to set up an ambush, maybe lay down a trap on the beaten path, find a bottleneck to choke and wall them in. If they&#39;re carrying what I think they&#39;re carrying, odds are they&#39;ll have it heavily guarded. We&#39;ll want to hit them before they realize what&#39;s going on. Use the chaos to take control, I&#39;m not too big on murder either, so let&#39;s try to avoid that.&quot; He would bob his head towards Richard, wondering if he was to be their main artillery for the day. Damn, that&#39;s a hell of a body.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 glances at the cat and tigress as they arrive. Fixing its optics on the latter, it states. &quot;Approval registered. Recommendations will be noted in after-action report log.&quot; Its sight lingers on the cigarette in her mouth. &quot;Your tobacco product will compromise scent discipline. Suggest extinguishing to reduce risk of detection.&quot; Its unblinking attention returns to the initial pair of people it encountered. Specifically, on the raccoon. &quot;Superior registered. Targets registered. Objective registered. Request rules of engagement and orders.&quot; As Magnus monologues on what may be in the manifest of MNS-12, it states, &quot;...conjecture registered.&quot;  
 
As the others arrive, he&#39;d take Nena&#39;s hand and pull her in against himself, giving the tigress a quick squeeze and boop on the nose with his own. &quot;Heya gorgeous.&quot; He winks, and addresses the feline that&#39;d crept out of their hidey hole. &quot;And me without my handcuffs...&quot; Or was he? &quot;Here.&quot; he offers the binoculars to the feline. &quot;I&#39;m thinking find a shady spot to set up an ambush, maybe lay down a trap on the beaten path, find a bottleneck to choke and wall them in. If they&#39;re carrying what I think they&#39;re carrying, odds are they&#39;ll have it heavily guarded. We&#39;ll want to hit them before they realize what&#39;s going on. Use the chaos to take control, I&#39;m not too big on murder either, so let&#39;s try to avoid that.&quot; He would bob his head towards Richard, wondering if he was to be their main artillery for the day. Damn, that&#39;s a hell of a body.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 glances at the cat and tigress as they arrive. Fixing its optics on the latter, it states. &quot;Approval registered. Recommendations will be noted in after-action report log.&quot; Its sight lingers on the cigarette in her mouth. &quot;Your tobacco product will compromise scent discipline. Suggest extinguishing to reduce risk of detection.&quot; Its unblinking attention returns to the initial pair of people it encountered. Specifically, on the raccoon. &quot;Superior registered. Targets registered. Objective registered. Request rules of engagement and orders.&quot; As Magnus monologues on what may be in the manifest of MNS-12, it states, &quot;...conjecture registered.&quot;  
  
Inside that metal head of his, Richard wonders if he&#39;s going to get himself in the shit for this. He was expecting to PROTECT a convoy. Then again, if Zephyr&#39;s doing some shady shit, they need to be held accountable. Not like there&#39;s any real oversight in this day and age. Start shit, get hit. Time will tell who&#39;s getting hit. Hopefully not him.</div>
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Inside that metal head of his, Richard wonders if he&#39;s going to get himself in the shit for this. He was expecting to PROTECT a convoy. Then again, if Zephyr&#39;s doing some shady shit, they need to be held accountable. Not like there&#39;s any real oversight in this day and age. Start shit, get hit. Time will tell who&#39;s getting hit. Hopefully not him.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn arches a brow &quot;Hmpf, I usually make it a rule to not work for religious fanatics...but the share sounds good.&quot; He looks the cane over, spinning it a few times in his hand. His ears perks as Magnus tries to decipher the acronym. &quot;Convoy, huh? We&#39;re a bit close to their goal to do something fancy...poking holes in their gas tank or the like and then waiting is a no go.&quot; The feline glances towards Richard. &quot;Though...a nice distraction may just work...&quot; He muses. &quot;Get everyone out looking or fighting...sneak up on the truck, hijack it and drive off.&quot; He gestures as he speaks. &quot;If the truck is old military, it might not even need a key...&quot;</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">&quot;Don&#39;t go arresting me now, it&#39;d look bad for my reputation,&quot; Nena says with a wink, giving the fox a brief hug around the shoulders. &quot;I&#39;ve got something for you later, by the way. Didn&#39;t bring it with me though, of course.&quot; She takes the offered binoculars and takes a brief peek, before Richard&#39;s words catch her ears. &quot;Ehhh? Yeah, I guess.&quot; With a sigh, she plucks the thing from her lips, extinguishes it, and tucks it away in a pocket for later. &quot;Anyway, yeah, I share his thoughts on it,&quot; she agrees with the fox. &quot;Let&#39;s not go killing anyone. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I&#39;m not much of a thinker though, more of a muscle. I&#39;ll follow a plan and apply my strengths as needed.&quot;</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">&quot;I have not said anything that was not true,&quot; Cooper says, &quot;And I never claimed to be anything but a contractor. I&#39;m not even really much of a thief. I did say this was a costume.&quot; The masked raccoon lounges on his rock.
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&quot;If it is any balm to your soul, officer, the object in question is already stolen, and we are far outside of any kind of legal jurisdiction here in the wasteland. You have a couple of options.&quot; He points down the road a ways to where the very obvious line of the bubble is visible. &quot;You can try to engage before they hit the bubble and most of their equipment and abilities are limited, or wait until they get inside the bubble where an accidental casualty is nearly impossible. Either way, no deaths. Nobody wants that.&quot;</div><br> <br><div title="Magnus">The fennec didn&#39;t like this one bit. Not one itty bitty bit at all. He squints intensely at their &#39;contractor, then sighs quietly and retrieves his binoculars. &quot;Let&#39;s get this over with and re-steal what Zephyr apparently stole.&quot; By the tone in his voice he was not buying this, yet he was playing along it seems. But why? &quot;Forget stealing the rest of the shipment though, you bunch of thugs are gonna have to settle getting your payment from me. I&#39;ll cap off the value of that caravan&#39;s knick knacks in creds and add a fifth on top. Keep your hands clean that way, let me deal with the &quot;already stolen&quot; goods. Take anything that isn&#39;t yours and you&#39;re coming down to the precinct with me.&quot; He lays down the conditions. His finger then points towards the raccoon. &quot;As for the nanite server, you can have that. Just make sure you disappear off the face of the damn planet with it, capiche?&quot;</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">R 1-1 interjects, &quot;Unit is not structurally viable outside of nanite field. suggest engagement within nanite field.&quot; It also states, &quot;Unit is of militaristic appearance. This may grant credence to establishment of checkpoint facility.&quot; It coldly observes the spat between Magnus and &#39;Mr. Cooper,&#39; only stating after the fact, &quot;Items other than objective and identified sub-objectives are irrelevant. Requesting orders and rules of engagement. Requesting destination for object Mike November Sierra one two upon retrieval.&quot;
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Okay, so he&#39;s *probably* not going to end up with blood on his hands if things go well. If. Side note: Magnus throws really cool parties for a cop.</div><br> <br><div title="Flynn">Flynn glances between Nena, Cooper and Magnus &quot;Hand-cuffs? Officer?&quot; The feline blinks a little, then looks at Magnus. Even with his mouth covered, one could almost feel the smug grin under it. &quot;You went cop? Ha!&quot; He seems to find that endlessly amusing. &quot;Don&#39;t lie to yourself, you&#39;re not cop material, kid. You&#39;re scoundrel through and through. And I mean that as a compliment.&quot; The feline tosses the cane back to Cooper. &quot;No deaths suits me fine. It&#39;s unproffesional otherwise.&quot; Stretching, he shrugs at the fennec&#39;s suggestion of not taking anything else. &quot;Spoilsport...but if you keep your end of the bairgain, alright. Saves me using a fence as a middleman.&quot; He leans against the rock, folding his arms. &quot;As for what you guys prefer in regards to in or out of bubble...that&#39;s your decision, I work just as well, in or out. Though... if tin man over there works best in bubble...then we go for that. I still say we go for a distraction and nab what we&#39;re after when their heads are turned. And I still say we nab the entire truck...the thing we&#39;re looking for might be all the way in the back of it...and we won&#39;t have time to search. We can always leave it for them to find the rest afterwards.&quot;</div><br> <br><div title="Nena">&quot;I&#39;m not much of a thief, so no arguments here. I just came because it sounded interesting.&quot; Nena thumbs her glasses, then lifts her arms above her head and stretches out. &quot;And hey, Magnus has a good heart, you know? Once a thug, not always a thug. I also work in or out of the bubble just fine, so inside works with me. It means it&#39;ll be safer for all of us, I imagine. Though if we&#39;re only going to be taking the one thing, then, perhaps we can just grab it and go. Sneakily or otherwise.&quot;</div><br> <br><div title="Fenris">&quot;Really, officer,&quot; the raccoon says, raising his hands in surrender, and coincidentally catching his cane, &quot;No need to be that way! I am certainly capable of paying for services rendered. Nothing in that convoy is rightfully Zephyr property, but I am not here to start a fight. And I assure you, that once I get what I am here for, you will never see me again.&quot;
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The raccoon indicate the stone his is sitting on. &quot;Just get the box back here to me,&quot; he says, &quot;I will take it from here.&quot; He waves his stick toward the road. &quot;I only suggest you get a move on,&quot; he says, &quot;That courier will be here shortly and I would really rather sieze this opportunity than try to get it from Zephyr headquarters later.&quot;</div>

Revision as of 01:11, 6 January 2020

Participants

Date

5/1/2020

Log



The posting was vague. A few, select people recieved a comms alert that there was an opportunity to stick it to Zephyr, do a service for Tanuki, and maybe get a little extra on the side. Other than that, only a GPS location and a time were given. At that particular place and time, a raccoon dressed like Sly Cooper from the old video game is lounging on a rock off to the side of the highway, right at the edge of the bubble, leading out into the wasteland. He is tossing a question mark shaped cane in the air and catching it while he waits for a bite.


"Smells like trouble again." Magnus huffs under his breath as he nears the meeting point, his head kept low and his eyes on a swivel, the fox having intercepted the message through his underworld contacts, run some investigating and struck a few deals to keep his pelt clean once all was said and done. Yes, he was in the police force now, but in his line of work it was good to stay informed. The fox arrives out of uniform, a confident look on his face, his holdout weapons hidden, his armor mostly concealed by the black jacket and loose slacks he wore over it. Once he arrives at the meeting point, he casts a glance up and shoots the raccoon a faint smile. "Funny, I didn't know we were headed to a cosplay convention. Whenever Tanuki's involved I always suspect a certain chubby friend of mine has a finger in it. So what is it?" the fox asks, his piercing gaze peering right through the suave ne-er do well. "What's the heist all about? And how can you be sure you won't have Zephyrian Spec Ops sacking your mercenaries to take their stolen goods back? How do you know there won't be one among them, waiting for the perfect moment to double-cross you? This all feels very sloppy to me..."


The clatter of tracks announces the next arrival, who seems to be under the impression that stealth is optional for this mission. The mutant in question could be described as one of those treaded machines from the future scenes in the Terminator movies, but thoroughly tacticool'd. Machine-guns maounted on its arms and a canon slung over its shoulder interrupt its armored silhouette: A metal-plated humanoid torso mounted on what seems to be a 1 to 1 scale replica of a tank hull. It grinds to a halt several meters away from the first two to arrive. "Destination reached. Romeo 1-1 awaiting orders. The superior on-site will identify themself prior to any acceptance of commands," it monotones. Its comms identification is blank, but anyone who cares to highlight the text where the name should be would find that it's named 'Richard,' and has simply changed the text of their name to a transparent font.


"Zephyr buys its loyalties...and bought loyalty is cheap, no matter how much you pay. Means that you just gotta outpay them to ensure loyalty...can you do that, ringtail?" It sounds suddenly, a dark feline peeking up over the rock, leaning in over the raccoon's head. His scarf was up, and he was dressed for stealth...though more likely for night. He even catches the cane witout missing a beat, looking it over for a moment. "Heck, could be ringtail here is Zephyr himself and fishing for trouble makers." Flynn chuckles.


Though not Zephyr aligned, Nena's belligerent days were largely behind her. Yet, the tigress has come anyway, hood tugged up, hands in her pockets, and cigarette between her lips. "Yo." She looks between the assembly and sizes up the tankman. "That's pretty cool. I prefer mecha style, but pretty cool." She pauses to reach out and give Magnus a pat on the head.


The raccon smirks at the newly arrived operatives, then frowns when his stick does not land back in his hand. "Clever," he says, grinning at Flynn, "We can definitely use that." He turns back to the others and gives a placaring wave to Magnus. "Costumes give people something to look at," he says, "A good way to stay incognito. You can call me Mister Cooper." He waves down toward the road. "In a little under an hour, an unmarked convoy full of stolen goodies will be coming down that road," he explains, "All acquired by Zephyr Co. through its usual means of bullying, extortion, theft and occasionally murder. Some salvage, some scientific equipment, some samples, lots of things. I am interested in exactly one of them. My client, the Great Leaf, Lord Tanuki his very self, wants the contents of a box marked MNS-12. You are welcome to anything else your sticky little fingers can carry away."


"And here I thought the idea of thievery is to be as inconspicuous as possible while doing it. Clearly the mafiosos of Fairhaven have a lot to learn." Magnus rolls his eyes and tucks his hands into his pockets, pulling out what appeared to be a pair of heavily reinforced binoculars. He surveys the area and starts thinking. "You paint Zephyr as some sort of vile scoundrels, raccoon. What are you then? Robin Hood? Stealing from the rich and giving to the needy?" he then lowers the specs and gives Cooper a sideways glance. "The needy being your patron. One has to wonder if ransacking a supply caravan is what Tanuki would want of his followers. But hell, what do I know?" He then mutters something incomprehensible under his breath. "M.N.S. 12 huh. That wouldn't stand for Mini Nanite Server, would it?" he squints a little. As the others arrive, he'd take Nena's hand and pull her in against himself, giving the tigress a quick squeeze and boop on the nose with his own. "Heya gorgeous." He winks, and addresses the feline that'd crept out of their hidey hole. "And me without my handcuffs..." Or was he? "Here." he offers the binoculars to the feline. "I'm thinking find a shady spot to set up an ambush, maybe lay down a trap on the beaten path, find a bottleneck to choke and wall them in. If they're carrying what I think they're carrying, odds are they'll have it heavily guarded. We'll want to hit them before they realize what's going on. Use the chaos to take control, I'm not too big on murder either, so let's try to avoid that." He would bob his head towards Richard, wondering if he was to be their main artillery for the day. Damn, that's a hell of a body.


R 1-1 glances at the cat and tigress as they arrive. Fixing its optics on the latter, it states. "Approval registered. Recommendations will be noted in after-action report log." Its sight lingers on the cigarette in her mouth. "Your tobacco product will compromise scent discipline. Suggest extinguishing to reduce risk of detection." Its unblinking attention returns to the initial pair of people it encountered. Specifically, on the raccoon. "Superior registered. Targets registered. Objective registered. Request rules of engagement and orders." As Magnus monologues on what may be in the manifest of MNS-12, it states, "...conjecture registered." Inside that metal head of his, Richard wonders if he's going to get himself in the shit for this. He was expecting to PROTECT a convoy. Then again, if Zephyr's doing some shady shit, they need to be held accountable. Not like there's any real oversight in this day and age. Start shit, get hit. Time will tell who's getting hit. Hopefully not him.


Flynn arches a brow "Hmpf, I usually make it a rule to not work for religious fanatics...but the share sounds good." He looks the cane over, spinning it a few times in his hand. His ears perks as Magnus tries to decipher the acronym. "Convoy, huh? We're a bit close to their goal to do something fancy...poking holes in their gas tank or the like and then waiting is a no go." The feline glances towards Richard. "Though...a nice distraction may just work..." He muses. "Get everyone out looking or fighting...sneak up on the truck, hijack it and drive off." He gestures as he speaks. "If the truck is old military, it might not even need a key..."


"Don't go arresting me now, it'd look bad for my reputation," Nena says with a wink, giving the fox a brief hug around the shoulders. "I've got something for you later, by the way. Didn't bring it with me though, of course." She takes the offered binoculars and takes a brief peek, before Richard's words catch her ears. "Ehhh? Yeah, I guess." With a sigh, she plucks the thing from her lips, extinguishes it, and tucks it away in a pocket for later. "Anyway, yeah, I share his thoughts on it," she agrees with the fox. "Let's not go killing anyone. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I'm not much of a thinker though, more of a muscle. I'll follow a plan and apply my strengths as needed."


"I have not said anything that was not true," Cooper says, "And I never claimed to be anything but a contractor. I'm not even really much of a thief. I did say this was a costume." The masked raccoon lounges on his rock. "If it is any balm to your soul, officer, the object in question is already stolen, and we are far outside of any kind of legal jurisdiction here in the wasteland. You have a couple of options." He points down the road a ways to where the very obvious line of the bubble is visible. "You can try to engage before they hit the bubble and most of their equipment and abilities are limited, or wait until they get inside the bubble where an accidental casualty is nearly impossible. Either way, no deaths. Nobody wants that."


The fennec didn't like this one bit. Not one itty bitty bit at all. He squints intensely at their 'contractor, then sighs quietly and retrieves his binoculars. "Let's get this over with and re-steal what Zephyr apparently stole." By the tone in his voice he was not buying this, yet he was playing along it seems. But why? "Forget stealing the rest of the shipment though, you bunch of thugs are gonna have to settle getting your payment from me. I'll cap off the value of that caravan's knick knacks in creds and add a fifth on top. Keep your hands clean that way, let me deal with the "already stolen" goods. Take anything that isn't yours and you're coming down to the precinct with me." He lays down the conditions. His finger then points towards the raccoon. "As for the nanite server, you can have that. Just make sure you disappear off the face of the damn planet with it, capiche?"


R 1-1 interjects, "Unit is not structurally viable outside of nanite field. suggest engagement within nanite field." It also states, "Unit is of militaristic appearance. This may grant credence to establishment of checkpoint facility." It coldly observes the spat between Magnus and 'Mr. Cooper,' only stating after the fact, "Items other than objective and identified sub-objectives are irrelevant. Requesting orders and rules of engagement. Requesting destination for object Mike November Sierra one two upon retrieval." Okay, so he's *probably* not going to end up with blood on his hands if things go well. If. Side note: Magnus throws really cool parties for a cop.


Flynn glances between Nena, Cooper and Magnus "Hand-cuffs? Officer?" The feline blinks a little, then looks at Magnus. Even with his mouth covered, one could almost feel the smug grin under it. "You went cop? Ha!" He seems to find that endlessly amusing. "Don't lie to yourself, you're not cop material, kid. You're scoundrel through and through. And I mean that as a compliment." The feline tosses the cane back to Cooper. "No deaths suits me fine. It's unproffesional otherwise." Stretching, he shrugs at the fennec's suggestion of not taking anything else. "Spoilsport...but if you keep your end of the bairgain, alright. Saves me using a fence as a middleman." He leans against the rock, folding his arms. "As for what you guys prefer in regards to in or out of bubble...that's your decision, I work just as well, in or out. Though... if tin man over there works best in bubble...then we go for that. I still say we go for a distraction and nab what we're after when their heads are turned. And I still say we nab the entire truck...the thing we're looking for might be all the way in the back of it...and we won't have time to search. We can always leave it for them to find the rest afterwards."


"I'm not much of a thief, so no arguments here. I just came because it sounded interesting." Nena thumbs her glasses, then lifts her arms above her head and stretches out. "And hey, Magnus has a good heart, you know? Once a thug, not always a thug. I also work in or out of the bubble just fine, so inside works with me. It means it'll be safer for all of us, I imagine. Though if we're only going to be taking the one thing, then, perhaps we can just grab it and go. Sneakily or otherwise."


"Really, officer," the raccoon says, raising his hands in surrender, and coincidentally catching his cane, "No need to be that way! I am certainly capable of paying for services rendered. Nothing in that convoy is rightfully Zephyr property, but I am not here to start a fight. And I assure you, that once I get what I am here for, you will never see me again." The raccoon indicate the stone his is sitting on. "Just get the box back here to me," he says, "I will take it from here." He waves his stick toward the road. "I only suggest you get a move on," he says, "That courier will be here shortly and I would really rather sieze this opportunity than try to get it from Zephyr headquarters later."