Server for Sly - RPLOG
From Flexible Survival
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.
