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Guy Clarkson

"Focus less on what we need to do, kid, and more on what we can do."

0 · 456 views · located in Solar System

a character in “Rhapsody in Silver”, as played by Snakeeyz99

Description

Image

Name: Guy Clarkson

Age: 31

Description:
Guy is a young(ish) man of 31 years of age. He is about 6’1” and 190 lbs, has broad shoulders and is fairly strong despite not exercising on a regular basis. He often hunches over, making him appear shorter, because he has a crappy mattress that bothers his shoulder blades. He has graying hair thanks to the stress of his lifestyle (which is not aided by the cigarette habit he picked up as a child). He works hard to maintain the perfect amount of scruffy five o’ clock shadow, going as far as to alter his personal grooming kit to achieve this. The rest of his hair he also trims himself, so it often appears unkempt. He has thick eyebrows that flare slightly at the outer edges.

In terms of clothes, Guy often dresses business casual with different shades of gray shirts. He’s fond of his bright red tie. Not shown in the picture, he wears an orange jumpsuit when performing maintenance and when traveling. This acts as his raincoat, windbreaker, and his backpack since it is lined with large pockets.

Personality:
Guy is often cynical, but tries his best to make the lives of others easier. He is always willing to put himself at risk to protect people despite his tendency to mock the “youngsters”- the mercenaries and vigilantes who fight the various criminals in the city. He is quick to criticize the ideals of such people and just as slow to admit that he himself wants to follow suit. His disagreeable attitude tends to subside a bit after he drinks a cup of coffee or smokes a cigarette, but if he's drinking it's anyone's guess.

Guy often argues if something doesn't immediately agree with him, but tends to give in in the end. He fights so his objections can be heard, not necessarily so they have to be followed.

Theme Songs:
Type: Title - Artist (Details) - URL
Casual: Daru Blue - Koji Kondo (Majora's Mask Bonus Track) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZEjgPmFWjM
Working: Face to Face/Short Circuit - Daft Punk (Alive 2007 Tour) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZXhwXhv37Ps
Battle: 7 Days to the Wolves - Nightwish (Dark Passion Play) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UjHiX-W7_Ac
Guilty Pleasure: Dinosaur Laser Fight - Ninja Sex Party (NSFW) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcmBALxDkRY

Equipment:
Guy often carries a small set of tools in his jumpsuit, but otherwise he carries a small pocket-knife type tool kit for small jobs. He also has his wallet, his cell phone, his keys, and his work ID stowed in his pants pockets. In terms of protection… you’d be surprised how much damage a wrench can deal nowadays, even if he prefers fighting with his hands. On the off chance he runs into friends he carries a small flask of the strongest booze they had in the liquor store down the street. He doesn't drive, so he instead prefers to walk to areas relatively close to his home or work.

Abilities:
Ever since he began his work, it was obvious that Guy has an affinity for fixing things and tinkering. As such, he has some understanding behind the mechanisms of KPET conversion tools (similar to the understanding an electrician would develop of the concepts of electrical engineering). This has aided him in developing his personal Kyressian power since it has provided him a unique insight on the mechanics of the tech.

Guy has the ability to generate energy fields at will. Using this power he can project a physical shield to protect others from damage, a field that dissipates the effects of different powers, and cover himself in a luminescent energy armor. This allows him an edge in the work environment and in a battle. He has been attempting to judge the strength of his shield, but its power is still largely a mystery to him. So far he has learned that he can strengthen the power at specific locations enough to deflect a knife, but he hasn't had an opportunity to test this ability further. Doing this takes concentration, even if he tries to hide that fact.

In the gunfight outside of The Silver Stallion he discovered that his shield could at least partially negate the damage dealt by a PET powered railgun.

History:
Guy was born 31 years ago to a well-to-do family in Argenta. His mother passed away due to complications in childbirth. His father tried to raise him alone, but found the stress of his loss to be too much and took his life within the month. Unfortunately, neither parent saw it prudent to include him in their wills. His greedy uncle quickly had him hidden away until all of the family’s belongings were dispersed, then sent him in an unlabeled basket to the nearest orphanage. That uncle died later of a preexisting health condition and all his belongings were taken by the city.

Guy was raised by the owners of the orphanage as well as the other children. Since no one knew his name, they took to calling him “Guy.” His surname, Clarkson, comes from the name of the company that produced the basket he arrived in. During his first 9 years he was left largely to himself and entertained himself with simple puzzles and riddles. He would often tinker with different appliances to figure out how they worked, to the dismay of his new family.

When Guy turned 12 he began doing a bit of research into the various corporations of the world, hoping he could one day get a good job. In doing so he might be able to find a way to ease the burdens of his country. This meant he had very little time to play with the other orphans, though he did occasionally talk to a few of them on the side. As a result he was familiar with Huey Gibbs, another orphan, but didn’t know much beyond his name and helpful attitude. Guy dismissed him as an idealistic fool, but some part of him admired his openness.

Eventually Guy’s work paid off and he got an internship with a small maintenance group at the age of 18. Here he learned the basics of being a repairman and how to keep the city running. He was part of every type of job: electrical work, various infrastructure maintenance runs, washing machine repairs, you name it. It was during this internship that his powers first manifested.

Guy had just turned 19 at the time. He was part of a crew repairing a HEE (Heavy-Energy-to-Electricity) transformer that provided power to a small portion of the city. Unfortunately, one of the workers had forgotten to switch generation over to the backup converter. When Guy’s supervisor began work he accidentally created a short-circuit condition, causing one of the protective breakers to flip open. Due to chance circumstances an arc-flash occurred, causing a wild spray of sparks, fire and arcing electricity to assault most of the crew. Guy instinctually threw a shield over his comrades, saving them from the worst of the burns (though most were left with singed hairs; it was a close call).

Because his newfound ability would be so useful on the job, he was instantly hired for a full-time position. By his 21st birthday he was able to move in to a small studio apartment not too far from the orphanage, where he continues to live to this day. He helps people in passing on the street, but so far hasn't made a serious effort to change anything. He believes the best way to assist is indirectly, to make sure smaller everyday problems don't stack up on top of the major ones. So far, the emotional distance he keeps from his neighbors and coworkers has protected him from any real level of discrimination for being a 'PET'.

Extra: Guy cooks a mean scrambled egg. He's also a fan of Happy Hour "Silver Rush Hour" Thurdays at a grungy little sports bar near his workplace, The Silver Stallion. He still doesn't understand why they have a blender in the back, but he supposes that enough people will order drinks that are basically shaved ice to justify the purchase.

So begins...

Guy Clarkson's Story

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Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson
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Guy stepped out of the cab, a slight breeze rustling through his short hair. It was a long day, even longer and less exciting than most. About once a month his employers would receive a call requesting him personally to assist with systems maintenance at the nearest Air Purifying Center, so he would be rushed out to the site at some ungodly hour to fix anything from the PET converters to the microwave in the staff room. Once he arrived, however, it was always the same excuse: "Oh, hey Guy! We hit the fridge with a wrench and it started working again. However, while you're here..." He would then spend the next 12 hours strapped into some type of contraption that siphoned his shield energy to clean some of the pollutants left over from when people still burned coal or petroleum to do anything. To them it was free labor; to Guy, it was 12 hours at the usual rate to do nothing. But it did tire him out, and for some reason he always needed to unwind after one of the sessions.

The cab pulled away as soon as he was out. Since Guy was a regular the driver had his account info on file, so paying the fare would be performed automatically later that night. He looked up at the sign above his usual stomping grounds, a small bar called "The Silver Stallion." The building had an Old Western theme, down to the two-way swinging doors and weathered signs advertising whiskey and sarsaparilla. He'd arrived just in time for Silver Rush Hour, where drinks were half off and some type of aspiring musician would be playing whatever the kids called "music" nowadays. He was only here for one of those things, but sometimes he was pleasantly surprised by the entertainment.

With a flourish Guy flicked a cigarette into his mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply. It was time to unwind.

Before he could take a step toward the door the first gunshot went off. It wasn't unusual for a mugger to actually kill someone around these parts, however Guy automatically threw on his protective armor. From any onlooker they could only see a slight shimmer, like he was surrounded by a fine silvery mesh. The armor also protected his hair from the wind, so he supposed someone perceptive enough might be able to notice that too. Still, once he was in the bar he wouldn't have to worry about muggers, so he continued on without much thought. By his third step everything was chaos.

Gunmen were pouring out of buildings, filling the already crowded street with magnetically accelerated death. People were running for cover, diving to get out of the way. They often never made it. Cars erupted into deadly fireballs, killing those who cowered behind them. For a few seconds, Guy was thrown off balance, just staring at everything unfolding around him. Then an internal alarm went off as he felt a tingling sensation in the shield on his left forearm. He instinctively poured his shield's strength over the area, but maybe not fast enough.

The stray bullet that hit his left forearm had left the "pointy end" of a railgun. Railguns converted a ton of PET energy into an instantaneous current at an order he could barely comprehend for one sole purpose: to kill someone as quickly as humanly possible. Which is why he was not surprised to find himself thrown violently into the exterior of the bar. He slumped against the wall. Luckily his head was protected by his shield, so he did not fall unconscious, but the pain stabbed into his mind. He looked at his arm, expecting to see a ragged hole in his elbow painting the sidewalk crimson. He was shocked to see that his arm was not only intact, but his shirt sleeve was unbroken. He flexed the arm to find that, while it hurt, there did not seem to be any broken bones. Somehow he had managed to save himself from everything but some very serious bruises in the morning. He took a moment to wonder how that would've turned out if he'd had one of those PET-powered bubble shields too.

Guy took a swig of the liquid courage in his flask, stood up, and pulled out his heaviest wrench. He wasn't one for heroics, but tonight he'd make an exception. He dashed into the fray, hoping to save anyone who wasn't dead and to potentially repay the asshole who'd shot him in full.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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#, as written by Chari
Huey moved in closer to the fight one piece of cover at a time. Honestly, it might not have been that necessary to be so careful; the two sides were 100% focused on each other. As he got closer, he could see in far more detail about what was going on. He first saw a woman charge down and kill some of the mobsters like she was just going for a simple stroll. Another person was hiding behind cover-- was he taking notes? Huey supposed he must have been some kind of reporter or something. There was also... wait a minute, was that Guy? What on earth was he doing here, last Huey knew he had a nice job fixing up broken stuff. Why on earth did it look like he was trying to get into this fight with only a wrench?

He suddenly threw himself to the side as a bullets started to spray the area he had been standing. Some of the stray bullets that would have hit him were stopped cold by his kinetic dampening shield, which was good. What was not good was the fact that 2 or 3 people had turned off their current targets to focus him. They had him pinned down pretty well, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

First off, he was able to pick up a lot of the small chunks of road that had been shot off and fire them at the people who had him pinned with his telekinesis. The rocks weren't thrown any faster than he could throw by hand, but that was because these rocks were a mere distraction; one that worked, as it turned out. One of them dodged out of the way of the rocks, but the other two got hit. They staggered for just a second, but that was more than long enough for Huey to put a couple bullets in them. He went with nonlethal takedowns, but they were definitely out of the fight, judging by the way that their knees had been blown out completely. The person who had dived for cover popped out then, but he was taken down instantly. This shot was definitely lethal, but Huey did not have time to admire his work. Guy had charged into a group of men, and while he could take out those in front of him, he didn't see a pair of men coming up behind him. That was not good.

Huey ran flat out toward Guy as he threw out his power. He pulled one of the men away violently, smashing them into a wall. The other turned in surprise just in time for Huey to smash the butt of his gun into his neck. The man collapsed bonelessly as Huey turned to fire off some rounds at the men in front of Guy. One went down to Huey's bullets as the others went down due to a massive swing of his wrench. Huey quickly pulled him down into cover before more people could fire upon them. He teased good-naturedly, "Well, what a place to meet again, eh Guy? Hope this isn't your day job, you need a little but more experience, and you are already looking like an old man."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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From cover, Guy waved over to the nearest car. A young man opened the door and immediately burst into the alleyway he had been attempting to secure. Once he had gone from sight Guy made sure to return his shield to himself. Now that that was taken care of, and by now all the civilians left were either dead or gone, he turned to Huey.

"Yeah, well breaking stuff is for the young people. The old people are all the ones who fix everything for you kids to smash again. Do you realize how much paperwork someone's gonna have to fill on those potholes you just made?"

He flicked his cigarette into a pile of burning debris. For the past couple whacks of his wrench he'd been sucking on filter. He took a chance to look over the low wall they were crouched behind. There was still some back and forth fighting going on, but if Huey was here, from what he'd heard, there wouldn't be too much trouble wrapping everything up. Plus there was a woman in dark clothing that seemed to know what she was doing. Lethally, yes, but to each their own. The kid hiding behind a car with a keyboard was other news, however... he mumbled something under his breath about how kids couldn't put down their damn boards for a few minutes, but he didn't think Huey could hear.

"The one with the stabby-stabby-shooty-shooty, she with you? Because I'd hate to be on her bad side." He made sure his armor covered his kidneys for good measure. "And that writer better get out of here before some random guy shoots up that car he's hiding behind. Unless he wants awards. I hear dead writers get the best awards."

He peeked over again to confirm a pattern he'd seen. "Regardless, we need to take the rest out before the fight moves any further up the street. I'd hate for the Stallion to get too shot up." He realized they were moving closer to the orphanage, but didn't want to explicitly bring it up in case these guys were really after Huey. Wouldn't want to give them any tips for where to start shooting.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stalker Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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Stalker had been walking the empty streets for about ten minutes, getting as far away as he could from the ArmuCorp Citadel as he could, when the gunshots started.

They started, along with the screaming, when Stalker was approximately fifty metres away from the source. Railguns, certainly; he could feel the magnetic pulses lightly fondling his exosuit. Something was amiss.

Stalker drew his handgun out of a coat pocket, the trusted Zenith, and looked around for a place to elevate himself to a position where he could view the situation at minimal risk. Failing that, his only choice was to advance forward, slowly cutting through alley and side streets until he could smell the blood. Finally, he was there.

By now the magnetic pulses were like waves breaking against a beach; the sheer amount of firing going on was nearly insurmountable. They were incredibly powerful railguns, too; almost certainly corporate. No one else could afford them, surely.

Turning a corner, the battle was finally visible: a group of corporate security guards, fighting some members of the criminal underworld. A curiosity, but one that required observation; could these criminals hold off the corporates? If so, Stalker was impressed; but not enough to prevent him from killing any survivors at the end anyways. That's what they got for making such a disruption. Stalker remained within the shadows, taking an opportunity to shoot out a nearby neon sign that exposed him somewhat; no one would hear the shot off to the side here.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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#, as written by Chari
"The stabby-stabby-shooty-shooty chick? Never seen her before in my life," Huey snarked back, "but I can definitely see where you are coming from with that one." She was certainly cutting down the gangsters pretty efficiently, far more so then they were doing in return. Only 2 or 3 of the corporate troops were down as compared to 15 or 20 of the criminals. So far so good.

But then guy pointed out something he hadn't noticed; they were rather close to the orphanage. "Yeah," he responded once more, "lets try to end this before things really started to get messy. You wanna make sure no one sneaks up on us?" Without waiting for a response, he took his rifle off his lower back. It was still in the compacted mode used to make it take up much less space (not to mention to be less noticeable) but it took only a moment or two for it to flip out into its full glory. And then, it was go time.

Huey braced the gun on the hood of the car that the pair was hiding behind, keeping his profile as low as he could. Through his sunglasses, he could see a basic HUD that told him various information such as distance to the target, wind speed and direction, time, and other useful things. At the moment, he didn't really need any of it; they were at such a close range that he would give up his rifle willingly if he missed. A deep breath later, he was already firing. He was aiming for non-lethal takedowns for now, which involved him taking out peoples knees and legs. Quite honestly, a good number of them would probably never walk again, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. At least they were still alive.

His shooting was smooth and mechanical, almost robotic. It was no surprised that in less than 8 seconds later, ten shots had put ten people on the ground. He pulled out his magazine to reload, but one he did he saw the fighting was over. The woman had taken out the rest of the main group, and looking behind him he could see that Guy had beat a couple more himself. Only one thing left to do then.

He re-compacted his rifle and slung it in its place along his lower back. He stepped out from behind his cover slowly and as smoothly as he could, his halfway up to show he was unarmed. He called out, "You mind not killing the ones that aren't already dead? It would be nice to see what kind of bounties they have."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stalker Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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To say they lacked discipline would have been.. generous. As far she could tell, their "training" - if one wanted to call it such - probably amounted to little more than: "This end is where the shooty stuff happens." They had no control, and their trigger fingers were much too itchy. Popping off round after round in rapid succession in the general direction of the target. Sure, Amada had heard the term "spray and spray" before, but never actually encountered it. Mildly amusing, for sure. Leading shots also appeared a foreign concept, she imagined they simply pointed and fired, because all their bullets ended up just behind her. Even with the extreme velocity of a railgun slug, travel time was still a thing.

They were spread out, and scattering as the corporate troops thinned their ranks. That made getting up close even easier, and she took every opportunity. A gun provided a false sense of security. It presented a hypothetical comfort zone, allowing you to hold your enemy off within a certain perimeter of your effective range. Unfortunately for them, that only worked if you had the awareness to enforce it. All it took was a basic distraction. Their eyes veered off, locking onto someone or something else, and then she was behind them. She could not help but spare a quick, "'Sup," right before breaking a windpipe. He dropped his gun, clutching his throat, eyes bugging. His buddy swung around to meet her, and for his trouble he got a knife straight through his wrist. She wrenched the knife down, forcing him to his knees, and executed him with a single shot. The slug passed out the back of his skull, burrowing through the pavement below.

Up ahead, another group was just taking notice. Four of them had ducked into an alley. Her angle gave a perfect vantage of three, the last was just a head poking out from around the corner. Sidestepping apprehensively, she raised her sidearm and squeezed the trigger. The top of the fourth punk's head turned into confetti and a chunk of the wall beside the others shattered, spraying them with shrapnel shorn off by the force of the impact. The least affected went down first, and she dropped the others before they recovered.

"Okay, okay, okay," Mercer mumbled through the comm. "Finally got some overhead, that gives us a nice spectrum. Don't think you really need it, at this point. Looks like the festivities are dying down."

"Hey, I'm not complaining." Amada watched the IFFs as they bobbed around on her HUD, a map of the small section of the city the fighting occupied gave her their exact positions. "I don't think we're getting overtime for this anyway, so fuck it." Just as she was starting to feel like she could relax a little, another bunch that had been cornered pushed back. Slugs whizzed by into the street, and Amada went for cover before returning fire. To her surprise, gunshots rang out from behind her. Rifle rounds pounded the hostiles, but all the inflicted wounds were nonlethal. "Oh, great," she rolled her eyes. That could only mean one thing.

Once they had been thoroughly.. decommissioned.. Amada stepped out tentatively, warily searching for any more surprises. Spying nothing, she looked back to where the shots had come from. The gunman in question stepped out from behind a car, hands slightly up in a peace offering. "You mind not killing the ones that aren't already dead? It would be nice to see what kind of bounties they have." Her eyes swept over him in a cursory analysis, and then briefly hopped to another man a bit behind him.

"Shoulda known the gunshots would have the rats scurrying. Afraid someone's going to screw over your claims?" Amada flicked her knife, casting any lingering drops of blood onto the ground, before sheathing it. Her pistol stayed in her hand as a precaution, but it lingered at her side. "Look, I don't have anything against saving a few bullets. If you wanna get to scavenging, you're more than welcome to," she sneered, momentarily glancing aside to check her peripheral. "Just try not to do anything overly stupid, would you? Gonna have enough paperwork to file, as it is." She shifted her weight, sliding her right foot back a few inches.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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Brian's predominant thought as the fight went down was how much he detested the taste of bile in his throat. The blood just... everywhere from the gunshots. From experience with the aftermath of shootings he could tell this one was rather surgical for a fight of this scale, but still. The amount of blood spattered in the streets, and the SCREAMS. Oh god the screams of these people... it reminded him of the old adage "war is hell".

But he watched, transfixed on the action, his mind focusing solely on the battle unfolding before him, attempting to drown the combat roars and the screams of bloodlust, death, pain, and fear from bystander and combatant alike. He watched as the uniformed group began methodically destroying their opposition, even though from what he could tell they were attacked first. One thing of note he made as the gangsters (as he was labeling them) began retreating is the addition of a third group into the fray. Seemed to be a two-man team. They weren't uniformed in their combat or tactics like the corp.... WAS THAT A GOD-DAMNED WRENCH!? Some dude was in there hitting people with a WRENCH!?

Brian raised an eyebrow at the curiosity in the fray and immediately began to look more closely at this guy... From what he could tell this man was a civvie, he seemed to have no real combat gear... but he seemed to be by FAR the greatest PET wave emission in this firefight. Even through the railgun blasts Brian could tell that. Guessing by the nature of the wrench (Brian still smirked to himself at the comedy in bringing a wrench to a gunfight)he guessed this guy was specialized in some sort of physical manipulaion PET waves. Either deflecting, or telekenesis, or something like that. Brian made a mental note of this guy as a potential "main character" for his story (sort of an everyman, caught up in the corporate-gangster shootout bullshit) and moved onto his partner.

This one seemed to be better equipped than "the repairman", armed with a pistol and it looked like a shield from what he could tell... He seemed to be a damn cool head too, shooting mechanically during the firefight, while it looked like just chatting with wrenchhead over there (it seemed like he was joking around, possibly friends?). This one also seemed to be using PETs as evidenced by the body throwing stunt he pulled as he went over to his current position. Specialized in Telekenesis most likely, rather strong to pick up multiple people at once as well, he noted. Other than that he didn't seem too specia.... Never mind.

It seemed like a switch had just been flipped. Suddenly the telekenesis guy whipped out a rifle and mounted it on the front of the cover he was behind. Brian immediately made note in his head about this guy. I mean, who carries a rifle with them on a daily basis? He wasn't corporate and CERTAINLY wasn't gangster (considering he was shooting them up) so... didn't leave many options in his head... perhaps bounty hunter he reflected on his initial thought of the shooting... He could dwell upon it later. But as he was thinking this he was transfixed as the guy launched ten rapid shots from the rifle with terrifying accuracy. Short story, this guy was DAMN scary.

And just like that, the fighting was over. He scanned over the battlefield and the carnage, bile once again rising to his throat, almost forgotten before in his focus on the fight and possible payday. It didn't seem like anyone was escaping from the side of the gangsters he noted as well, scanning with his own PET waves. It seemed a complete rout. Taking a glance over at the victorious groups he quickly identified the leader of the corporate force as she flicked away blood from her knife and shot a couple words at the other pair.

Scary. Maybe he could avoid interviewing her.

At this point he was nearly fully standing, leaning against what he now noted to be a VERY nice car he had used for cover. Oh well, at least he hadn't puked on it. He decided to let the cheering crowds and the adreneline die down a bit as he took a deep breath and sat on the car's hood determining he REALLY needed that drink later. Maybe it could get this shitty taste out of his throat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stalker Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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With the corporates victorious and the last dregs of the gangsters' forces in flight, the situation was clear. A small number of militarily-equipped corporates, the leader being the almost disturbingly efficient woman who had almost singlehandedly butchered the gangsters. Not a threat, assuming Stalker could get the jump on her, and the corporate soldiers themselves would be easy; he had survived hundreds of them in the past. Two heavily-armed men who seemed somewhat unaligned, crouching behind a car. They were slightly more unpredictable; one of them with a rifle was looking in the other direction and would take a while to turn it around, but he appeared to have telekinetic PET powers which presented a danger. His companion was armed only with a wrench, but the fact that he had charged into such a crossfire with it and survived guaranteed that he had some form of PET powers. Some distance away, an unarmed man with a notebook was behind a car, but he would be no threat at all.

Stalker shook his head; why was he considering butchering these anyways? What would he do with them at all? The corporates would most likely kill him should they recognize him, and as for the others, he had no vendetta against them.

Further observation was a must; Stalker had already bloodied his hands tonight and there was no reason to bloody them yet again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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Guy tried to avoid watching the battle as the both the woman in the black coat and Huey methodically took out the remaining gangsters in the street. He could stomach seeing the violence during a fight, that was normal enough... but this was a massacre. People dying left and right- Huey could try to go nonlethal if he wanted, but nothing was stopping the girl- and he could barely stand it. It wasn't so much the fact that it was chilling to see a grown man's head explode like a piñata at a 12 year old's birthday party, but the fact that he was becoming more accustomed to that brand of violence as time went on. He made sure to remind himself that he should move to a better neighborhood when he could afford it.

To keep his mind off the battle he focused on keeping a shield around the people who needed it. Protecting a corporate guy here, trying to lessen a fatal shot to only a debilitating injury there... that type of good guy stuff. He found himself mostly watching over the one other person who wasn't knee deep in a pile of some guy's blood, and that was that writer. He probably didn't notice all the shrapnel and other nonsense flying his way as he stuffed his face into that projected screen he was constantly writing in. Not that any of it made it within a meter of the kid with the invisible net surrounding him. He saw the kid's eyes darting everywhere on the battlefield, even himself for a few moments, and it made him kind of uneasy. If he turned up on some random blog somewhere it would be nothing but hell from his coworkers.

Soon enough the battle was over... or he at least guessed so from the uneasy silence that fell over everyone. He tilted his head back and took a massive swig from his flask of mystery drink before standing up next to Huey. Huey put his weapon aside when he spoke to the gunwoman, but Guy shouldered his 'weapon' casually and tossed another cigarette into his mouth. "You mind not killing the ones that aren't already dead? It would be nice to see what kind of bounties they have." Guy had to hand it to him; the kid had balls. Not that he probably couldn't handle himself, it was just a hell of a way to talk to a woman. Kids had no respect these days.

"Shoulda known the gunshots would have the rats scurrying. Afraid someone's going to screw over your claims? Look, I don't have anything against saving a few bullets. If you wanna get to scavenging, you're more than welcome to. Just try not to do anything overly stupid, would you? Gonna have enough paperwork to file, as it is."

Well, that was that then. Guy realized he'd been holding his breath and let it out. He wasn't sure how the kids would interact; it could have easily ended in another gunfight as far as he knew. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag. "Well then, if you need me I'll be at the Stallion." The bar was not one to shut down because of a little gunfight, even if the streets were emptied. Likely the barkeep had made drinks half priced so people were more likely to spend all their cash for that one last drink before they were potentially blown away. The bar was fun on a quiet night, but the best stories were told (or made) when everyone there was borderline blackout. That was something he could hardly pass up. He started over to the bar, focusing on the swinging doors instead of the pools of blood gathering in the street.

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Character Portrait: Stalker Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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#, as written by Chari
"Shoulda known the gunshots would have the rats scurrying. Afraid someone's going to screw over your claims? Look, I don't have anything against saving a few bullets. If you wanna get to scavenging, you're more than welcome to. Just try not to do anything overly stupid, would you? Gonna have enough paperwork to file, as it is."

"Well, I like to think of myself as a better scavenger than a rat... maybe a hyena, or a vulture." Huey took the jab with good humor as he walked over to the people he downed. As he heard Guy's comment, he responded, "Save me a seat old man, I will be right there after I am done with this."

Looking down at one of the people he took out, he pressed a finger to the side of his glasses. His shades were custom designed and state of the art, but it was only thanks to Eva that he could do this. A box formed around the face of one of the men at his feet and, after a brief pause, displayed connected to it his name, bounty, rapsheet, and all sorts of other things about his life. Really, it was amazing what you could get when you crossed cutting edge facial recognition software with the power of the internet.

In the end though, they were all pretty much small-fry. None of them was worth the trouble of waiting around for, so he went over to take a look at the ones that had been killed next. He glanced at a few of them, til he glanced at the one missing part of his skull.

It took a moment for the software to identify him, but when it did, he let out a whistle of appreciation. "Damn, this guy was worth quite a bit. Also says there is a reward for turning in something he stole." Patted the guy down, found what he was looking for in a pants pocket, and turned around to the women. He threw something small at her in a soft arc. "Well, your kill, your spoils. Don't spend it all in one place, Miss Amada Rubi. Man, I can't believe people still use jump drives in this day and age."

He turned and started to walk away. He went to flip of his facial recognition (it was funny what you could do with that), then, out of habit, flickered his infrared vision for a second. While he didn't make any obvious signs of surprise, he did raise a deliberate eyebrow at shady spot he passed, before he walked by the writer. He called out in passing to the poor guy, "You might want to get a drink too man, you are as pale as a ghost." And with that last comment, he slipped by him and straight down to the Stallion.

He took a seat next to his old acquaintance at the bar. He flicked his hand up to look at what he had stashed up his sleeve. It was a small electronic device, one that had been designed to do one specific task; copy the contents of an electronic device. He stored it back up his sleeve as quickly as he had taken it out, then turned to the scruffy mechanic. "Well, what a way to meet up again, huh?"

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Character Portrait: Stalker Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Brian Major Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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Amada snorted, the corner of her lips quirking into a minute smirk at the bounty hunter's remark. He had guts, and she wasn't one to fault somebody for that. That depended on how exactly they used their nerve. Her eyes rolled to the other guy, the one with the.. wrench. He was quick to excuse himself from the proceedings, something she was a little envious of. Until they got an all clear, she wasn't going anywhere just yet.

"Cleaners are on the way, and the PR lackeys are going with them. Preliminary reports will be coming in soon after." Mercer relayed, sounding more worn out every time he opened his mouth. Now that all the action had passed, they were starting to feel the weight of the night bearing down on them, along with the rest of the day before it.

"Real glad they're the ones handling it. Shooting people's simple, easing their minds isn't really my forte." She watched the gunman check out the downed hostiles, living and deceased. He did not seem particularly excited about any of them, which was not a surprise. Most thugs on the street had little more than pocket change to their name, if that. Going out of your way to hunt down the big names just felt like too much work; especially annoying when everyone else would be targeting them, too. She preferred having a steady source of income, as opposed to the occasional big payday.

"Damn, this guy was worth quite a bit. Also says there is a reward for turning in something he stole." Her interrupted her thoughts, and started patting down the corpse. She was about to comment on the matter, when he suddenly tossed her something. She snatched it out of the air, and furrowed her brow. "Well, your kill, your spoils. Don't spend it all in one place, Miss Amada Rubi. Man, I can't believe people still use jump drives in this day and age." According to her history class, privacy had used to be a thing. Then the internet happened. Still, she was marginally piqued at how casual he was about spouting her identity.

"How altruistic of you." Amada kept a steady eye on him as he headed over to a nearby bar, where his buddy had trundled off to before.

"You might want to get a drink too man, you are as pale as a ghost." The gunman called out to somebody hiding behind a car. Who in their right mind would be stupid enough to hang around who was not some bounty hunter or corporate security?

Tucking the unexpected reward into an interior pocket, she strolled slowly over and cocked an eyebrow at the kid. She had the answer the moment her eyes fell on his pad. "You know, using freedom of the press as an excuse to sensationalize this shit is pretty low. You about done, or am I gonna have to find someone to escort you out of the area?" Amada gestured around with her pistol. Never aiming it at him, but showing it off to let him get her meaning. If there was one thing she had learned from the bureaucratic dropouts responsible for the company's image, it was that subtlety and suggestion were preferable when dealing with someone not pointing a firearm at you. Mostly because it permitted deniability. No, officer, I was only asking if he wanted protection while leaving a potentially dangerous district.

Glancing around reflexively, she noticed a busted sign. Earlier it had been casting an ugly neon light over the immediate surroundings, but it looked like a bullet had punched through it. Gaze drifting, she spied what looked almost like a figure standing cloaked in darkness. Blinking rapidly, she readjusted her position, and turned her attention back to the reporter.

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Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson
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The stallion was the same as usual, despite the recent events. It was a medium-sized building, lined with old wooden tables and a long bar against the leftmost wall. Each round table had eight rough steel-reinforced wooden chairs around them, and at the moment all but one of those tables was full. The right wall also had a few booths with plump leather cushions, however most of these were full of some of the shadier customers the bar served. Before moving towards his seat Guy noted a clump of people sitting closest to the door that looked rather flustered. They probably ducked in when the gunfight started outside.

Guy took a seat at his usual stool at the far side of the bar. The stool was constructed of old-fashioned brass and stretched, beaten leather that complemented the aged wood countertop. The counter was lined with an assortment of taps that led to kegs concealed under the bar. Against the back wall was a large set of shelves lined with a variety of cheap liquors and craft beers, and below that was a locked safe containing the expensive stuff. The only modern thing in this bar was the new-age dish cleaner that stood in the corner. It could wash, sanitize and dry all of the mugs and glasses used by the patrons in a matter of minutes.

The bartender slid over to his spot the moment he was comfortable. He was a medium-sized man, somewhat brawny and sporting a large, graying-brow handlebar mustache and two bushy caterpillar eyebrows. He was polishing a mug with a dirty rag, leaving smears on what was previously clean glass. He spoke with a false Texan accent. "I see all that noise finally died down. I was afraid those poor bastards near the door were gonna to make a dash for their cars. Anyhow, what can I getcha?"

"I'll have the three-for-one deal tonight. And use a fresh glass this time; last week I almost swallowed a mug full of whatever's on that old rag of yours."

Guy ignored the disdainful look from the barkeep and waited for his drinks to arrive. Shortly after, he heard the doors swing open with a distinctive creak. He briefly nodded at Huey as he sat on the vacant stool next to him. He noticed him flourishing some type of device as he took his seat, but ignored it; Huey seemed to be flashier than he was as a kid. "Well, what a way to meet up again, huh?"

Guy snorted as the bartender placed three tall mugs of slightly skunked ale on the counter in front of him. He examined the glass and, finding it satisfactory, took a long drink. He placed the mug back on the counter and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's putting it lightly, kid. It's been what, thirteen years since I left the orphanage? And back then you were just a dumb kid who kept trying to be a hero. Now I see you killing street thugs like they were cockroaches that got in your bed. I'd heard rumors, but I never thought you'd be so... efficient." He paused and took another long sip from his mug. "I'd offer one of my drinks, but it's probably not the type of stuff you're used to drinking, Mr. Penthouse."

He was being a bit rough, but Huey probably knew him enough to know how he was. Guy was actually pretty happy to see someone else who'd made it out of the orphanage without getting stuck on the streets, even if he didn't say it up front.

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Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson
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#, as written by Chari
"That's putting it lightly, kid. It's been what, thirteen years since I left the orphanage? And back then you were just a dumb kid who kept trying to be a hero. Now I see you killing street thugs like they were cockroaches that got in your bed. I'd heard rumors, but I never thought you'd be so... efficient." He paused and took another long sip from his mug. "I'd offer one of my drinks, but it's probably not the type of stuff you're used to drinking, Mr. Penthouse."

"Hey now, I'll have you know I drink perfectly respectable stuff. Bartender, can I get one Strawberry Daiquiri please?" While the Bartender gave Huey a raised eye at his "respectable" drink, the bounty hunter turned back to Guy. "Has it really been that long? I mean, I guess it has to have been, considering that you weren't there for... well, for the kidnapping. But still, you should have dropped by more often after you got a job. I know a lot of the guys there missed you."

Huey paused a second to take a drink from the fruity number that had just been placed before him. "Ah...~ I love this stuff. Anyway, you know, maybe you should come back to my place afterwords just so you can see how that 'penthouse' is. I am sure the girls will love to see you. Speaking of which, do you remember Amily? The fiery-red head with the temper to match? She just recently got into the pro-fighting scene recently. If you want, you can come a bunch of use from way back when to see her inaugural match. I promise it will be quite the show."

He took another sip of his drink as he propped his head up off the bar with his arm. "So, how goes work for you? You still doing the same job of fixing shit when it breaks?"

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Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs Character Portrait: Guy Clarkson
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Hey now, I'll have you know I drink perfectly respectable stuff. Bartender, can I get one Strawberry Daiquiri please? Has it really been that long? I mean, I guess it has to have been, considering that you weren't there for... well, for the kidnapping. But still, you should have dropped by more often after you got a job. I know a lot of the guys there missed you.

Guy blinked as a glass of slushy red drink was placed on the bar in front of Huey. Huh. So they did have a blender in the back. He shook off the shock with another sip from his second mug. He took a moment to reflect as well. He always meant to visit the orphanage, he just could never find the time. And once he was able to get time, it was too long after leaving for it to not feel awkward. He resorted to anonymously donating food to save everyone the trouble. If he couldn't be there, he'd at least make sure no one starved.

Anyway, you know, maybe you should come back to my place afterwords just so you can see how that 'penthouse' is. I am sure the girls will love to see you. Speaking of which, do you remember Amily? The fiery-red head with the temper to match? She just recently got into the pro-fighting scene recently. If you want, you can come a bunch of use from way back when to see her inaugural match. I promise it will be quite the show.

Of course he remembered Amily. She used to challenge him to fights all the time because he was one of the older orphans, and typically Guy would wind up bruised on the ground. Then she would get angry that he was "holding back" and hide his books. Just the memories made him sigh in exasperation. "Sure, I'll go to the fight with you guys. As long as I'm not the other guy in the ring at least." In a fair fight he would not be able to use his shields, which would put him at a severe disadvantage against a skilled opponent. With his powers he might just have a chance, though.

So, how goes work for you? You still doing the same job of fixing shit when it breaks?

"Yeah, and lately a lot's been breaking. Seems street crime has been on the rise, and every shot missed that happens to take out a street light or every chunk of road or streetlight thrown at a thug has to be replaced. And that's aside from the usual stuff, like monitoring the city's infrastructure. Luckily I'm usually paid to do easy repairs that I can leave whenever they need to call me away on specialty jobs." He took a shorter sip and turned to Huey. "What about you? I know you've got some savings now, but I haven't heard a lot about how you got it. Usually someone just says you're a mercenary, or a thief, or some type of boogeyman, and then clams up."