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Amen Rodrigo De Silva

The force's best pilot. The disaffected detective. The man who spots the corruption in everything...

0 · 866 views · located in The Morbus-verse

a character in “Neo-Noir”, as played by PirateofPie

Description

"Neo-Seoul has no soul..."

ImageName: Amen Rodrigo De Silva
Aliases: The Hunting Hawk (Nickname during his mech fighter days)
Age: 34
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: African-Brazilian
Date of Birth: 1/30/2083
Place of Birth: Neo-Manus

Physical Description: Tall and fairly well built, Amen typical posture is slouched, apathetic and relaxed.. His skin is dark and his hair is braided and at times hidden beneath his cap. His legs from knees downward are metallic and augmented as well as his left shoulder, which has a metallic plated augmentation placed on it.
Augmentations: Jet-linked leg augmentations that replaced his legs and a chunk of his left shoulder allow him to hover briefly through the use of miniaturized turbines in his legs.
Clothing: Generally sports a long jacket, with his Neo-Seoul police badge safely in his pocket and a dress shirt, often not tucked in or a Neo-Punan style shirt open buttoned. Both of these are usually accompanied by athletic shorts and his shoes are a somewhat dated pair of blue and yellow Pepsi Revolutions.
Height: 6"2
Weight: 310
Hair Colour: Black
Eye Colour: Black

Current Address: 2113 Hyundai Solstrom
Occupation: Officer, Pilot, Department of Patrol, N.S.P.A.
Pre-N.S.P.A. Biography: Amen grew up in a poor, somewhat small town in Neo-Manaus. His grandparents were farmers, a dying craft while his parents worked with the church and were often away from home. His childhood was filled with tales of the wonders fo the Brazil of old. A proud country that was no more. Times were tough as his town was made up of refugees and veterans from the war, who despite their service, had returned home only to be met with hard times and poverty. It was hard finding work, but as he grew up, Amen did what he could with what he was given. And often times what he was given was strong physicality and a sly mind. It was an eventful childhood, though not always the greatest one...it had it's ups and downs.

And things were looking up, when Amen found an opportunity to provide fro his family in a way that neither his grandparents or his parents had found before. His grandparents farm was a dying business and his parents work at the church provided the family with the bare minimum of what they needed, but it was often not enough. But Amen's opportunity came in the form of a sport that wasn't technically legal. Many combat sports were now frowned upon by many populace's after the dawn of the war. Though oftentimes in poorer communities, savvy promoters found a way to provide such entertainment through illicit, underground means. Mech-Combat was one of those means and through one of their promotions Mighty Mechs Manaus, Amen soon found himself a natural at the craft.

He acclimated quickly to the controls of his machine, he rose to the top of his division at age 21 and continued to stay there for around ten years. He never told his family where his money came from, he thought that it'd be best to leave them out of this for their own safety. There were a lot of people within Mech-Combat that he grew to trust....but there were always more than a few snakes in the grass. One of which was the new up and comer, a veteran of the Neo-Punan military known as Rex. Despite being illegal, underground Mech Fighting always had some unspoken rules. Accidents did happen, but no pilot was ever to intentionally harm another, only their mech. Rex abided by no such rule when he demolished the cockpit of Amen's mech, crushing his legs and tearing off a chunk of his shoulder.

In immense pain, Rex immediately was hospitalized as soon as they pulled him out of his vehicle. Once he was coherent enough to understand what happened to him, he opted to have surgery on his legs, hoping modern medical science could aid in his recovery, though the doctors were oddly insistent in him replacing his broken limbs with augmentations instead. Expensive augmentations. Not really in the mood or position to negotiate, Amen regretfully agreed. When he next saw his family, he explained the situation, resulting in their disappointment over his lack of honesty. To literally add insult to injury, Rex received no punishment for his actions, his popularity overcoming any potential comeuppance.

It seemed that Amen's fame as a mech fighter had come crashing down. A lot of his money had gone into replacing his legs with augmentations and he attempted to give much of the rest with his family, but they refused, saying he'd need it more than they would and that it was dirty money anyway. Not one to dote for long, Amen decided he had to move on. Find new work. He decided to see the rest of the world. His views had been jaded and skewed after his treatment from Mighty Mechs. He was reminded of all the veterans that he grew up around. Those who gave spilled blood and never received any sort of repayment for it. Mighty Mechs had even checked in on him while he was at the hospital or anytime after he left, aside from one call in while he spent time in Neo Nairobi, but that was one call he'd decided to refuse. It had been too long, and if there was one thing he learned in his travels...big companies, "legal" or "illegal" would only call you after all that time like that when they wanted something in return. And at this point, he felt that he had nothing to provide.

He spent his two years traveling, learning about how the world really worked, how people really lived. With every new place he visited, his cynicism only grew. Of course, he made some friends, dated some women, one of who, he had a child with back in Neo-Nairobi, though he sometimes struggles to keep in contact with them, and saw what the world had to offer, but it didn't stop him from seeing the flaws in how everything worked...and how no one seemed to do anything about it. He certainly didn't seem to. Eventually, his travels brought him to Neo-Seoul, a place some of his acquaintances had recommended he visit. He quickly found a job within the last year as a beat cop, his skills as a mech piloted translating well into his ability to pilot the variety of vehicles the Neo-Seoul police had to offer.
Personality profile: Amen is fairly chill, not quite acting too expressive unless something peeks his interests. He has an apathetic, devil-may-care demeanor that rubs many the wrong way given his position as both an immigrant and a cop, but his co-workers on the force can't deny that he gets results. Many times, his adherence to the law is called into question. Amen often touts connections and knows people that most of the other cops would arrest any other day and several suspects from arrests Amen makes have gone missing with no explanation from the man himself. Nothing has been investigated against Amen, but with every minor inquiry, his normally indifferent expression grows a bit more smug.

Unique Skills/Abilities: Amen has extensive training in hand to hand martial arts, particularly capoeira as most Mech Fighters tend to have extensive training in physical martial arts before they even step foot in their vehicles. Due to his past as a mech fighter, Amen is proficient in piloting vehicles and is one of the best on the force whether it be a car, or a VTOL, he makes driving or flying seem easy.

So begins...

Amen Rodrigo De Silva's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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District 6
November 14th, 2117
12:24 pm


People are generally stupid...or....they aren't as smart as they think they are

"I want her gone! I have enough to deal with with those wretched children throwing rocks through my windows!" Mr. Hwo screamed, spittle flying with every word that flew from his mouth as he pointed towards the barred windows that stood to guard his shop from the assaults of school children. "And now one of my own employees dares to steal from me?! I gave you a job you little dock-rat!" He continued to rail on, directing his bark at the young woman before him. A girl in her late teens, a Neo-Punan native by the looks of her, sporting a heavy raincoat who stood by shooting him a spiteful glare. Between them both, holding the shopkeeper back was Amen, who's gaze drifted back and forth between both parties with a look drenched upon his face that couldn't even remotely hide his disinterest in the whole affair.

"Aight, so..." Amen sighed heavily, raising his data pad and pretending to take notes on it. "You said she stole what exactly?"

"I....stole....nothing!" The woman replied, finding each of her words slowly. Korean was not her first language after all and either she never quite got a grasp of it...or she was faking it to help better serve her case. Either way, a waste of time.

"You stole plenty, girl!" Hwo snapped. "A whole two cases of home repair equipment! Gone! Vanished! Expensive stuff! Imported from Neo-Spa! I found the cases they came in lying in the dumpster this morning! The cameras told the rest of the story! You did look over the footage, didn't you officer?!" Hwo asked, irritably.

"Usually that's my partner's job, sir, I tend to just make the arrests and drive the car," Amen answered, beginning to grow agitated himself with the shopkeep's tone.

"She emptied the contents into her bag, officer!" Hwo exclaimed.

At this Amen turned to the former employee who certainly had a book bag on her person and asked once in Korean, "Gimme the bag," which in turn received no response, prompting him to reiterate in English. "The bag. Come on, now." She surprisingly complied quickly. Too quickly. Amen hastily zipped open the bag, before nonchalantly turning over towards the disgruntled store owner, "Only thing in here is books," he shrugged, showing Hwo it's contents.

"No....I saw the footage,! She took power tools! Around six of them, I know they were..." Hwo shook his head in bewilderment. "The footage! I still have it. We can go over-,"

"Nah, Mr Hwo..."

"It'll only take a minutes!"

"Mr. Hwo! I don't got that kinda time..." Amen lied.

"But-!"

"Look, I'll take her into HQ for questioning. You good with that?" Amen asked, hoping that the irritable store owner would think that was reasonable. And hope won out. A rarity in this city.

Amen placed a pair of cuffs on the accused's wrists. Magnetic locks. Any cop held the key. All they had to do was tune it to the right frequency. To open. He led the woman to where his car was parked before turning around and asking her, in korean, "Where'd you hide the shit?" To no response, before asking in English once more, "Do you actually not speak Korean?"

"I speak it a little..." she responded, sporting a somber look upon her face.

"What was your job at this place again?" Amen asked, asked if he was paying attention when it was first mentioned. If it was ever mentioned at all.

"Cashier..." she answered in a quiet tone.

"...Cashier? How the fuck do you speak to the customers?" He asked only to get a pensive shrug in response. "Aight, look. Enough bullshit," Amen shook his head. "Where'd you hide everything?"

"..." the woman responded. "My coat..." she spoke after a while opening the right sleeve of her jacket to reveal the coat pockets lined with various wrenches, welding tools and so much other assorted home improvement equipment, it was a wonder none of it fell out of her pockets as she walked.

"And you, what, you wanna sell this shit on the black market?" Amen asked.

"No...No!" She shook her head rapidly. "My family....my parents and I...we moved here last month." Probably illegally. "We live in the docks...our house is practically a shed. There are leaks everywhere, mold...repairs are expensive, we could do it ourselves but tools are expensive too...I asked Mr. Hwo for a raise, but he wouldn't do it...he...he hates foreigners, he-"

Click. Magnetic cuffs. Tuned to the right frequency.

The woman looked up at Amen in disbelief. "Wh-what?"

"Wh-what?" Amen mocked. "Go the fuck away, you're free..." he sighed, all but shooing her away. She ran off without another word, darting through the alleyways, presumably heading back home.

Maybe she'd find a better job. She probably won't. Amen didn't really care. Back to HQ. Back to sleep. Back to dreams of better tomorrows and better futures.

The doors flung open. Hyundai's weren't his favorite, but for a beat cop it wasn't too bad.

He inclined back in the leather seat. Not built for comfort but it was enough. Glove box open. Papers hanging out, letters. ...the one he got the one he got this morning. He'd forgotten all about it. Really did eat to read it later in case, he'd finally been indicted, but...

The contents were a footnote in history. The past liked to creep on the present. And when it does, time will tell of it means well or not. Amen sighed and inclined in his seat. He placed the coordiantes in the GPS and let the autopilot take over while he slept. He could've opted to listen to music but he really feeling sleep more.

Back home on his way to the arena, he'd lean back and listen to the sounds of the city sometime. It's rhythm, it's ginga.

On the way back to the station, Amen heard nothing but silence.

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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The Knut Sack, District 10
November 14th, 2117
1:35PM

In the midst of the city lay a district brimming with the heat of waning culture, a haven of endangered language and trade from a melting pot of immigrants that had somehow found themselves in Neo Seoul. The Knut Sack was filled with mismatched brick apartment buildings and small shops overflowing with refugees and immigrants from all around the world, a hub overflowing with life. In the middle of the district a long road severed the sea of buildings into a market place where merchants sold their goods from the Neo cities and havens alike. Market Street - so it was named - was one of the 'seven wonders' of Neo Seoul, a bustling market full of food stalls from any country you could think of. There were stores selling furniture imported from Neo Spa, spice stalls, small Japanese supermarkets, a famous tattoo parlor owned by a Portuguese man from Neo Manaus, stalls selling knock-off handbags made in Malaysia and more. It was also a place for musicians and artists alike to practice their skills, with performances and buskers coming here to earn a bit of cash. Little known artists sold huge canvases with beautiful art and graffiti covered the walls of buildings with huge sweeping political statements in the form of artistic freedom. Walking down Market St was an attack on the senses, but there was a feeling of home here that wasn't found anywhere else in the city.

For once such person it had been home for some time now. In the middle of Market St stood a store painted a faded, dirty yellow, located below a brown, brick apartment building. An abundance of different coloured neon signs and painted on words in every kind of language covered the windows and walls of the shop in a messy, confusing way. On the top read a sign in bold, black, faded letters 'GORGE'S RUG BAZAAR'. Where there was space huge fluorescent stickers that were peeling off read 'SALE' and '50% off'. The residents of The Knut Sack would tell you that those signs had never been removed and the store was never on sale. Faded rugs of every pattern and colour were piled up against the front of the building, giving the impression that the store was overflowing with merchandise. It was very ugly.

Inside the shop was not much different, but in a way it felt homely, much like The Knut Sack. It was always lit up with an orange glow, illuminating the hundreds of rugs that were piled up either side of the doorway, creating a narrow path to the back of the store where an old wooden counter with piles of papers, a computer, a phone and a man sat. The window behind him was open a crack, letting the smoke from his cigarette filter through. He was an older man with long, dull brown hair, a shitty beard and circle glasses. He flicked the ash of his cigarette into the ash tray and took a deep drag, narrowing his brown eyes to the doorway when someone entered. With a puff of smoke he grabbed a key that had been on his desk, holding it in his thumb and forefinger, giving the man before him a tired grin.

"Hi, Amen. Forget something?" Paul Gorge waved Amen's apartment key in the air, "Listen, you can have it back if you pay your rent on time this month, it's not that fucking hard."

Gorge stood, disturbing the grey cat that was fast asleep on a pile of rugs beside his desk, and threw the key to Amen while suppressing a laugh, "You look like ass. Bad morning?"

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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The Knut Sack, District 10
November 14th, 2117
1:35PM 


Amen glared at Gorge apathetically before silently walking outside. Seconds later, the shattering of glass could be heard. Minutes after this, Amen casually walked back in, the backpack that had been in his apartment now being slung over his shoulder with one hand and pointed his thumb behind him with the other. "Some kid shattered one of your windows, Gorge. How am I supposed to fork over money for an apartment without reinforced windows. Not in the Knut Sack..." he stated before leaving.

"I'm thinkin' about moooooving, Gorge!" He laughed as he exited Gorge's Rug Bazaar, as he exited, disgruntled that he even had to make. If he was heading back to HQ, some things just shouldn't be forgotten, he stated, rifling through his things as he got back into his car.

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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#, as written by Nulix
The Knut Sack, District 10
November 14th, 2117
1:35PM

A heavy sigh was heard from behind Amen as he stood at his car. The officer turned to see a blue-cloaked patrol officer standing with his arms crossed, masked and augged out civilians walking behind him under the canopy of buildings that littered the district. "Domestic disturbance?" The officer grunted to Amen. "Again?"

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Gorge approached the officer and Amen, stamping on his cigarette on the concrete and smiling up at them, "Hello, Gyeong. Sorry about this, it looks like Amen hasn't taken his medication today."

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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#, as written by Nulix
Officer Gyeong let out a long sigh as he looked between the two men. He did not have a holopad out, not yet ready to write anyone up. "What's the deal this time? You get those shit droplets on your face again?" He asked, giving an annoyed glare at Amen. "Honestly, every other day there's some noise with you, De Silva." Gyeong grunted. "It's what I expected from the rest of the rabble but you? You're a cop, for Christ's sake."

Gyeong turned to Gorge with a sigh as an electric bike loudly buzzed passed them on the busy Knut Sack street. "You want to press charges or what?"

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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Gyeong Han. You ever know someone who just had to be that asshole Gyeong Han was that asshole. "Nah, he's good. We're all good. Listen," Amen spoke, answering for Gorge. "I was just fuckin' with him. You know what a joke is, Han? It's that shit that always goes over your head," Amen smirked, dismissively flipping the older patrol officer's cap from his head and onto the ground. "So go home, go to a brothel, go to the library, I personally don't give a fuck so long as I don't have to keep rappin' with you..."

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"Haha! Yeah, we were just fucking around," Gorge grinned, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and slapping it on Amen's chest, "That's why you're evicted!"

Gorge turned and walked back to his shitty store, now with one broken window, "See you around, Gyeong."

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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#, as written by Nulix
Gyeong smirked, placing his cap back on before pushing past Amen, into the busy streets of the sack. And with that, Amen Rodrigo De Silva was homeless.

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"Hey Gorge...what's this?" Amen asked of Gorge about the letter ominously given to him. "Seriously, what is this, man...?" He turned around following Gorge. "No seriously man, what is this! You know I was fuckin' with you, right? Gorge! I was gonna pay for the window! Remember when you fucked up my plumbing? Gorge...hey Gorge, man!" Amen started, finally glancing over the contents of the paper, the second piece of the paper mail he'd received today, this one vastly less intriguing than the first. "...Fuck, man!" He sighed, taking his hat off and combing through his hair in frustration before tossing it towards the ground. "FUCK!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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#, as written by Nulix
A few heads turned to Amen as he swore, his backpack of shit and the vehicle he leaned against all he had to his name. Legally, anyway. But soon the immigrants and their worn bucket-helmets, dirty jumpsuits, and cheap augs continued on their day. A new sucker in the Knut Sack was not a rare sight...

Jong Investigate Services, Guri, District 7
November 15th, 2117
2:14 P.M.


A cruiser shone it's headlamps through the slit shades of Meon Jong's office, the bright purple lights sliding across Meon's sleeping face as it passed. The loud rumble of the cruiser shook his office slightly, the musky papers and holopads on the desk shaking gently- but this was Guri. An industrial vehicle was always passing by. Neo-Seoul was a city of noise. Of people's noise, of advertisements. Guri's noise was that of vehicles. You got used to it. Or at least, Meon Jong did.

He sat slumped against his couch, snoring loudly, rolled up in the blankets on the other end of the treated leather was a girl half his age- silver-hair, messily clumped about her slightly chubby face- black roots sprouting from the base of her Korean head, also passed out. A pizza box lay at their feet, empty beer bottles lining the carpet.

Suddenly a buzz. A harsh vibration on his heart. Jong's eyes snapped open irritably as his hands went to his chest, where the intense vibration of his phone caught him off guard. He slid open the thin piece of glass, the holographic display within showing a woman's face flashing and the words incoming call beneath them in orange. It was a woman he recognized well. His ex wife. Kwon Jong.

Meon bit his lip slightly, still not sure how he felt with her using his name, but with a grunt he rose, coming his hair back with a hand and pressing answer. "Hello?" Meon's voice was that of a man just woken up as the video-call went through....

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Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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District 7

1742 Doo-San Lane

November, 15, 2117 9:00 pm


"You got the shit, did you bring it with you?" Zheng, a man of Chinese descent, who appeared far older than he actually was, asked. Zheng looked like a cab driver. Bundled up in clothes way too warm even in the breezy night air, sporting sunglasses at night. If he was trying to look inconspicuous, he failed from the second he stepped out of his front door.

Furthermore, what a stupid fuckin question.

"You really think I'm that sloppy?" Amen laughed in disbelief. He stood among a group of about ten other people, leaning against his Hyundai, which was sat in the middle of a row of about ten other cars. "Yeah, I brought the damn thing, I got it right here," he stated, lifting up his hand to reveal a small phone sized device in his palm. "I know how to cover my tracks."

"Oh we know, but you also go to worry about my tracks," began another, older voice. Baek. Graying hair and a long goatee, with a dusty brown jacket covering a wife beater and a pair of jeans. If Zheng was overdressed, Baek was under dressed for the chilly weather. "His tracks..." he stated pointing towards Zheng. "Her tracks, her tracks, his tracks, her tracks..." he went on causing Amen and eight of the nine others assembled with him to bellow with laughter. All except Zheng.

"You all think this is a fucking game?!" Zheng whispered harshly, adjusting the buttons on his sweatbox of a coat.

"I mean...it's a race so kinda, yeah," Amen shrugged. "What the fuck's bugging you anyway. I heard you souped up your ride. Who knows you may damn well win..."

"I'm more concerned with getting caught!" Zheng shivering, despite all odds. "I wanna see...I wanna see the feed."

"Calm the fuck down, how many times have we done this?" A woman's voice spoke up, around the same age as Baek. Chun-ja, a long dark haired woman sporting a muddied blue leather jacket and khakis. "We had one screw up last April, but that's cause we let Tandy bring her faulty model..."

"Oh nah nah nah, let him look at the feed. Show him he's bitchin' for nothin'," Amen stated, drownong out a cry of annoyance from the aforementioned Tandy and holding up the device which displayed the police camera feed of the very spot they now stood at. However, what should display and street lined with eleven cars and eleven people standing in front of them, now displayed a still image of an empty street with the occasional car passing by. "You don't even wanna know how I got this. Just believe that it'll work exactly like it's supposed to."

"I'll believe it if we all make it through this out of prison..." Zheng murmured. Amen glared at the younger racer with suspicion for a moment but said nothing. Zheng had no job, no family to speak of, no significant other, no other hobbies aside from racing, which he rarely succeeded at.

 Strange how someone with seemingly nothing to do was always in a rush. Still, he made the effort to be the first to arrive whenever a race was "scheduled" and was often the first to leave...

"Can we get this underway?" Tandy spoke up, an immigrant from Neo-Tunis. Moved here completely legally, of course. "I wanna hurry up and win this thing, I'm gonna buy my kids a big meal tonight." Among all the drivers, Amen saw Tandy the most. A Neo-Punan immigrant who dwelled in the Knut Sack and had a day job selling imported goods. Only 'goods' was the last word you'd used to describe the shit she peddled. And yet she miraculously had stayed in business for what she claims has been six years. The only reason the NSPA haven't doubled down on her contraband is because they likely didn't care.

Still she didn't come across as disengenuous at all. Bizarre but a rare quality in Neo-Seoul

"You best have enough for some pizza by the slice, 'cause all ya'll are about to taste...THE DUST! ZEEDUST!!" Amen shouted out, his voice not at all picked up on the cameras littered throughout the area where they had planned to race. Soon enough the drivers had quickly decided to hop into their respective vehicles. "Chun, I see you with the custom Toyota. You do that yourself?" He asked one of his long time rivals who's car sat directly to his right. "You got my respect, that looks like it might beat...at least Zheng over there" he laughed, checking the monitor in his dashboard, the police tracker having been temporarily replaced by a custom data processor. His car was outfitted to do so by Chun-ja herself some time ago.

"I heard this might be your last race..." Chun-Ja changed the subject ignoring Amen's trash talk as a holographic emitter displayed a countdown, starting from twenty in front of the racers.

"For a while yeah," Amen stated, briefly tipping his cap over and scratching the back of his head. "I got some...some stuff comin' up soon. It'll keep me busy," Amen noted. "Not too worried, though. I got to her ways to make money. With something I'm much better at than racing..." he stated revving up his car. He turned to look at Chun-Ja who now displayed a threatening smile. Thats when he realized...

Hidden in that genuine small talk was the set up.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd want to sacrifice your house every time you went out to drive," Chun-Ja grinned at her own joke. Beautiful smile. It was afact that Amen probably wouldn't have gotten away with half his shit if not for her. Maybe there could be been something here or there, but both here and there were way too far away. And there was a commitment that was always much closer to his heart.

There's the punchline. It didn't stung as much as it would a week ago.

"Yeah, how is good 'ol Mister Gorge?" Baek spoke up, his car in front of Amen's. "You lay him back for that window yet?" He asked. "If you win, you can pay him back and maybe you can afford a small apartment over here...for about one month!" He chuckled.

"Ya'll stay talkin' shit but...remember how much respect I have for the both of you," Amen spoke, nodding at each of them respecrfully.  "Baek, you showed me the ropes around the streets of this district, you let me know how shit works around here, let me into the crew, I thank you for that. Chun, you're my number one mechanic, no one can build shit and take it apart like you do. You've pulledy ass out of trouble more than the NSPA ever has, and I owe you for it. I just hope that...when I'm gone, neither of you two will forget to PAY MOTHERFUCKIN' ATTENTION!" Amen laughed, having distracted them both as the countdown reached zero, his car bumping past Baek's as he sped ahead of them both, right behind Zheng's.

"Amen, you disrespectful motherfucker, this paint job is brand fuckin' new!" Baek growled as he and Chun-Ja began to catch up.

Amen continued to laugh as everything around him began to blur. The race lasted for whay seemed like hours. Neo-Seoul wasn't the only city tha lacked ginga. Far from it. But you could always find it in pockets. Races. Dancing. Fighting. Here it was in the race. There was a rhythm to each turn. Truth was Amen didn't much like the flow of it at all, despite how good he seemed to be. It was the people he always came back for. Most of them anyway.

There was one clear disruption to the flow. Zheng was far, far ahead of everyone else. And driving like he was constantly trying to avoid hitting an animal wandering along the street. Anytime another car caught up to his, hed give them the bump. If Amen wasn't sure anything was up before, he was now. He had to be quick. Hang back just enough to do what he had to do, but he couldn't let the others catch up.

His right arm never moved from the wheel, his left hand, reached for his glove compartment...

Nine dots back in the distance. One snake spiraling through the grass ahead. And Amen in the midst of it all, in second place. Nine engines roaring behind him, growing louder as they drew closer. Before they could, Amen sped up, his engine clearly not belonging to a standard issue NSPA Hyundai.

Timing was key. And when Amen's car crashed into Zheng's, in the hopes of causing causing the jittery racer's car to spin out, he timed it well. Zheng shot forward, his car spiraling arpund as it swept past the 'finish line'.

Nine other cars soon followed. Chun-Ja in a distant third after Amen's second and Zheng's first. Baek showed up last, clearly more concerned with the scratched up paint job than winning the race.

Waiting for them all was a man who had not been there when they started, but he had certainly been watching. A bald Korean man in a long coat and a surgeon mask. Rubber gloves in his hands. This man was a suspect somewhere, that much was clear from looking at him. The Goalkeeper is what he went by and while he was a known player here, there wasn't much known about him other than being a Native of Neo Seoul.
 
The other drivers seemed to take more notice of his presence than Amen who was still messing around with his glove compartment.

Goalkeeper walked over to Zheng and raised his watch. After a wordless exchange, the bald man left. Sheets had been exchanged. Zheng had won the race and the prize money that came with that victory.

Amen never had too much interaction with the Goalkeeper, especially not after being fully integrated into the NSPA. He tended to make sure he was never the winner when the Goalkeeper had his hand in the race proceedings. Just as well.

"Fuck, Zheng won?" Tandy questioned. "First time in a long time..."

"Hey, Tandy, do me a favor and tell everyone to sit tight for a bit," Amen said, stepping out of his car.

"Why, you gonna swindle him out of his cash?" Tandy questioned, with a suspicious eyebrow.

"Fuck yeah, but I'm gonna need you to have everyone stay back...for real,"  he stated raising his jacket to show his badge...a rare sight among this group of friends of his. 

"Zheng! Yo, Zheng!" Amen shouted as he turned around, clapping mockingly. "Congratulstions, man! I didn't think you could fly through these streets like that!"

"Amen, why the fuck did you bump into my car like that?! I'm lucky I won and even luckier that I can still drive," Zheng shook his head, shivering still despite the fact that he was looked as of he was nearly smothered in his coat. "Speaking of which, I should g-"

"You gotta make it to your next sale, right?" Amen stated. "I have to say takin' your own product is a stupid move, but you had to give yourself that edge, right? ...Is it synthetic?"

"Is...is what, what?! What are you talking about?!" Zheng glanced around nervously. 

"Whatever the fuck its is you're tryin' to sell Probably the same shit you took. Most likely hidden in that big fuckin' microwave you got on," Amen stated, stepping forward threateningly with each new accusation."What you're probably gonna buy more of using your prize money and sell as your own shit. That's what I meant."

"So what, you're just gonna arrest me? ...Please you don't care, you just want my prize money! I'll talk, you know! I'll tell them your involvement in the races!,"

"Sounds like a bunch of bullshit you made up to save yourself," Amen shrugged. "I think evidence will clear things up," he stated, raising the feedback looper he had used to manipulate the camera placed around this sector of the city and replayed footage that played out minutes ago. It showed the empty street save for the rushing blur of Zheng's Impala speeding through aND getting tackled by the car registered as Amen's.

"Couldn't catch whoever jammed the cameras but that shit happens from time to time in Guri..." Amen shrugged. "Good thing I saw somethin' was up and caught you just in time as the cameras were rollin' again," he shrugged as a baffled Zheng through his hands up in disgust. By the time gravity had dropped them back down they were caught in a pair of cuffs.

Amen dragged Zheng to the back of his car and and briefly radioed HQ to tell them of the new arrival to grace their doors. As he turned around towards the other drivers, they stood, not quite knowing what to say until Baek spoke up.

"You're really gonna Arrest him, Amen? For winning? On drug charges?" He asked.

Amen didn't even pretend to think about it before answering, "Yeah," completely nonchalantly.

"Amen....my cousins sell 'em too!" Baek noted. "And you don't do shit about them!"

"Yeah, but they didn't use 'em to cheat," Amen replied. "Motherfucker was hopped up on whatever. Gave him that edge he needed to win. He was probably gonna crash after the race before he goes and sells this shit to the next stupid fuckin' kid who thinks they got something to prove."

"He's right,"  a gruff voice spoke from the drivers. "Fuck cheating!"

Amen shrugged, "Fuck cheating," he repeated. "I suggest y'all get out of here, because they might do a sweep to see what's wrong with the cameras. "I'll hold 'em off for what should be long enough for y'all to get away."

As Amen approached his car, the other drivers still stood there, lookin' skeptical. "Fuck, c'mon..." he shook his head before opening the backdoor and ripping Zheng's watch, the device in which his money was just transferred, off his wrist, shutting the door before Zheng could protest. "I'll split it with the rest of y'all!"

"Should've said so from the beginning," Chun-Ja stated as she began to walk off to her car. The murmurs among the other drivers were numerous and soon drowned out by their engines as they took off.

Amen shook his head and headed for his own car. Opening the door, he was prepared for more angry words from Zheng. To his surprise however, Zheng now spoke rather calmly.

"You screwing with the Goalkeeper's business by doing this you know....you won't get away from this without him hearing about it, you know..." Zheng insinuted.

"Let him hear about it, then," Amen shrugged as he began to turn a corner. I've got a feeling I'll be seein' a lot more of him sometime soon..."

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Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"It's not like a real big secret or nothin'," Amen replied, strolling through the door. "They don't really talk about it, but if you know where to look you can find out," he turned to glance at Su-min and introduced himself, "Amen Rodrigo da Silva," he stated with a nod, not waiting for Su-Min to introduce herself before he wandered around towards the table taking a seat in an empty swivel chair while kicking his feet up on another. "Why they restarted it, is anyone's guess..." he trailed off, pulling his cap down over his face, covering his eyes as he waited for this meeting to get underway.

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Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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Su-min cocked at eyebrow at Amen, meeting his rather rude introduction with no introduction of her own, "Ive been busy. All Ive been able to find is the basic summary - a department for 'special' cases. That doesn't really tell me anything."

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Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"Anoder!" Laszlo began as the second entrant walked in, keycard in hand. "Exciting. Friends. Introductions. Look how many are here before the Commissioner, dat's fun."

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Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"You didn't look far enough, those motherfuckers died," Amen replied to Su-Min casually, ignoring Lazlo's exclamation.

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Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"They had a bad end," Laszlo winked in agreement.

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Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"Right..." Su-min cleared her throat, waiting for some sort of further commentary. There was none. She quickly turned to her holopad and began answering the succession of emails as an excuse to escape this very awkward conversation.

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Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"So," Laszlo began, his eyes tracing Amen's N.S.P.A. uniform. "You are a beat cop?" He smiled at the man. Laszlo cracked his neck before swerving it in Park's direction. "And you are a D.T.R. analyst?" Laszlo squinted at the two. "Be careful, you know. If der is a hierarchy here... you two are low on it."

Suddenly the door opened, a middle-aged korean man with a bent hat walking in, keycard in hand. "Jong, Meon," He introduced briskly, folding his arms as he stepped in. "I'm looking for Commissioner Dikshil?"

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Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"Park, Su-min," Su offered, looking up to Meon Jong and feeling overwhelmingly grateful to him that he had entered at that very moment. He seemed normal enough, "The Commissioner isn't here yet."

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Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"Don't really care about the hierarchy..." Amen told Lazlo. "We get called up for somethin' like this, I'm not too sure it matters who was where on the totem pole before."

As Meong Jong walked in Amen gave a half-hearted nod. "What's good? Amen Rodrigo da Silva."

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Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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Jong glared at Amen, before turning to Laszlo, who sat upright on his swivel chair like an eager dog. "Kardos, Laszlo- I am sorry, what department are you from?"

Meon Jong squinted at the trio before him, unimpressed, and reached into his coat. In a swift movement he pulled out a card and placed it on the table. "Meon Jong, private eye," He breathed, sliding the plastic card across the table. Laszlo stared the card down before shifting his blue gaze up at Jong. "Not wid the N.S.P.A.?"

"Apparently not," Jong replied, not sitting. Laszlo glanced at Amen and Park, as if letting them in on some funny joke, before clasping his hands together at Jong. "Well- hierarchy changed," Laszlo commented before leaning back in his chair again. "If the Commissioner is bringing in outsiders I am afraid it does not look good. Vhatever this meeting is it is an experiment. And if you are vhat she is choosing an expendable experiment." Laszlo shrugged. "I am a friend to all who serve the law... and I dink you should valk into this carefully."

Jong turned to the other two in the room. "Who is this asshole?" He asked after a moment.

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Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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"He's, ah..." Su-min looked at Laszlo, "He's a G.H.S.T officer. Here to oversee all of this...uh, D.U.S.K. That's all I know."

She glanced over to Laszlo, "You talk as if we have a choice in this. What we received was a summon - not a request. If we don't report to a summon we get penalized or..." a pause, Su looked over to Meon for a moment, "In Mr. Jong's case, in trouble with N.S.P.A. You didn't receive a summon, Officer Kardos?"

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Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva

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Laszlo stared at Su-min. "No," He replied. "I received a promotion."

With a swallow Jong sat, pulling out his phone to check the time. He was on point. To what, he wasn't quite sure. D.U.S.K. The division left to do what the rest of the police couldn't. The division that died. If Dikshil wanted to reform the guard, she needed more than this...

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Character Portrait: Meon Jong Character Portrait: Su Min Park Character Portrait: Amen Rodrigo De Silva Character Portrait: James Kyo

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James leaned back in his chair, his gaze on a small paper crane that sat on his desk. He made one every year on his birthday. It wasn't very good, even if the design was easy enough. James had never taken up paper folding, except once a year.

He could still see the paper crane his son had given him on his birthday twenty four years ago. That one had been better than this one, Chung-Hee had spent his entire morning folding it, making it perfect. He had the biggest smile on his face when James had come home, proudly presenting his birthday gift with both hands out stretched. It was the last birthday gift James ever got from his son. He had made twenty three more since then, none of them were as perfect as the first one had been.

Looking at his watch he slid the crane into a small square box and tucked it away in his pocket, he would bring it to the apartment later. Filing away the last of his reports on the computer he turned the monitor off and slid the chair neatly under the desk.

This meeting had at least given him time to finish some outstanding office work he thought. He turned toward the elevator, passing Lee's desk on the way. "Off to meet with the commissioner Haraboji?" the man asked without looking up from his computer. "Yes, don't let the children get into trouble." James replied with a smile. Lee looked up, winked, and returned to his work. James knew the man had quite the backlog of reports to file, he'd be at that desk most of the shift.

The elevator whisked him upwards to the fortieth floor. James couldn't recall ever actually visiting this particular floor, not that it was a surprise, there were a number of floors he'd never been on. As the door opened to the reception area.

"Captain Kyo." the man at the desk acknowledged him, a key card slid across the desk, "room ten." James picked up the card curiously, wondering why they wouldn't simply update his existing credentials for access. "Thank you." he nodded slightly and continued toward the designated room.

Four people were already at the table, the commissioner not among them. He didn't recognize three of them, two of which were NSPA employees, he did recognize lieutenant Kardos however, who was saying something about a promotion as James entered the room.

"Lieutenant." he nodded towards the man, then looking at the others "Captain James Kyo." he introduced himself. "So this is the commissioners new D.U.S.K."