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Huey Gibbs

"Man, it's times like these I really wish I hadn't left my old job."

0 · 522 views · located in Solar System

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

Description

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Theme (Normal) | Battle Theme 1 | Battle Theme 2

Name: Hubert Gibbs

Alias: Huey, “The Silver Reaper”, “The Ghost” (defunct name)

Age: 22

Description: He wears a pair of yellow lensed glasses on his forehead at all times that is not pictured.

Personality: Huey is a fun loving, happy-go-lucky kinda guy. He is known for his snarky comments and dry wit under any circumstance. He is also absolutely loyal to those he cares about, which is mostly just his family. He is capable of being serious if the situation calls for it, but will still make whatever snarky comments he wants about the situation. He is, though, surprisingly callous when it comes to making decisions about protecting his family.

Equipment: He always has his yellow lensed glasses, which are actually very advanced electronic goggles. It lets him see in both night vision and heat-based vision, as well as tell the exact distance of a target and predictions of his bullets trajectory. He also usually carries a 13mm semi-automatic railgun pistol. With the use of K-PET tech the recoil is negligible, and he uses this gun as his standard arm. He also has a 20mm long cannon, a railgun rifle known for its accuracy. He uses his goggles as a scope and is a crack shot with his guns from almost any distance. He also has a kinetic barrier, standard model, which he got long ago from a job.

Abilities: Huey is an incredibly strong telekinesis user. No one quite knows what the upward bound of his strength is, but it is said he has been able to throw cars with his powers. At least one thing is certain; he is able to use his power to jump insane heights, and, to an extent, float and fly. Outside of his PET skills, he is also a very adept bounty hunter. He is incredibly accurate with his shots, and he is in peak physical condition. In addition, he is very adept at stealth skills. He can hide nearly anywhere, move silently, and break into virtually anything. These skills are holdovers from his original job, but still very useful.

History: Hubert Gibbs was born 22 years ago in the Midcity section of Argenta. He was basically born an orphan, the only remnants of his parents being his last name. By sixth months he was in an orphanage in a bad part of Midcity. As he grew, he started to take care of as many kids in the orphanage as he could to try and help the workers. He was always mature for his age, and many of the kids there looked up to him as an older brother, while he looked at most of them as his younger siblings. He always tried to do as much as he could to make them laugh. Unfortunately, the happy times were not to last.

When he was 12, some of the girls in the orphanage was grabbed of the street. Huey was there when it happened, and he chased after the people who grabbed them. The chase lasted for at least an hour, and Huey didn’t once lose sight of his surrogate siblings. Eventually, they got to a dead end alley in the middle of nowhere, where the one kidnapper threw away the girl roughly and turned on Huey with a knife. This was the first time Huey learned about his PET abilities. He doesn’t talk about what happened there, neither do the girls he saved. No one is quite sure what happened outside of those who were there, but they came back with blood splattered on them and changed. The girls started to cling to Huey at every chance they got, whereas Huey was strangely quiet for a time. Still, within a few weeks, he was back to cracking jokes and making everyone laugh. It seemed like he was completely back to normal.

But he wasn’t. When he was 16, he set out on his own, promising to come back to the orphanage as often as possible and to give them as much help as possible. Everyone was sad to see him go, especially the ones he had saved, but he promised everyone there that they could come live with him when they were old enough… and he had a house, of course. And so he left; to where, no one quite knew.

As it turns out, he had spent the last 4 years both getting himself in the best shape possible and learning as much as he could about being silent and stealthy. Why? He became a thief. In fact, he became the best. Within a year, there were rumors of “The Ghost,” a legend that was said to be able to break into anything and everything. Supposedly, nothing was safe. Of course, this was quite a bit of hyperbole; Huey chose his targets well, and never tried for something he thought he couldn’t do. Within two years, he was stealing from the biggest companies and business as well as rich households, and he was making a lot of money. He had even acquired a partner, Eva, who was able to help him hack into basically anything he wanted. “The Ghost” was mythological, a frightening figure with no known face. He was able to buy an expensive condo with part of the money, as well as send a lot back to finance the orphanage. Things were good.

However, things had to change. He retired from thievery at age 20 for a few reasons, but the most important one was this; some of the people from the orphanage were leaving to come live with him. He had actually bought out almost two floors in the building he was living, so there was no issue with space. Still, he stopped for one reason; none of them knew what he did. Many of them had desires to get legitimate jobs, and, well, he had to have a legitimate job if he was to help them. “Thief” was not a really good job to have if you are providing a character reference. So, he became a bounty hunter, a job he felt quite suited his skill set, and he was not wrong.

He earned the nickname “The Silver Reaper” from a particularly messy job which involved getting a group of Mafioso. He and a group of other independent bounty hunters hunted the Mafia down to a building by the pier in Mideastern. It turned into a blood bath, and he was the only survivor from either side. This was less than 6 months after he started bounty hunting, so he became quite infamous among both fellow bounty hunters and criminals. From that point on, almost no one still worked with him if they could avoid it, due to the superstition that working with him was a death sentence. So, he worked solo.

At least until recently. Just 3 months ago, he started a company for bounty hunting. While there are only a few members, a good number of them are from the orphanage, and the rest are people he had worked with at some point in the past. While he is still trying to find a good name for the group, they are temporarily called “Silver’s Sweeping Services.” Thus far they have been pretty successful. Still, only time will tell exactly know successful they can become.

Extra: Stuff TBA as the plot progresses.

So begins...

Huey Gibbs's Story

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Character Portrait: Huey Gibbs
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#, as written by Chari
The city of Argenta never sleeps. No matter the time, no matter the place, there is always action to be found in the City of Silver. Even now, hours after the sun has set, there is still a buzz of energy in the air, and the dull sounds of city life with it. Huey thought this was the reason why so many people moved here.

Looking down from his perch, he say his targets still doing nothing but waiting. From his intel, the group down there was part of the Giradano family, and each of the three men had a bounty in the area of $100,000. Great money, to be sure, but there was a reason they were worth so much. Their kill counts were probably in the area of 50 to 100 each, and they weren’t exactly known for quick and painless kills. No, they were known for their brutality and cruelty. They reminded him a lot of the men he had been forced to deal with back when he was 12, the monsters that kidnapped his girls to sell for profit. Just the thought of it started to get his blood boiling.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm. What was done was done. The past was in the past. The wind whirled around him on the top of the building on which he sat. “Eva,” he called out into seemingly nothing, “how long until the last guy gets here?”

“Supposedly, he is on the way right now, so it should only be a minute or two more.” The response was quick. Adjusting something in his ear, he shot back, “Well, that is good. Is he bringing any more goons, or is it just him?”

“Just him, Huey. Be careful though, I would hate to break in another partner.”

“Heh, just who do you think I am? These mooks are gonna be a piece of cake.”

After a minute or two more of silence, another man slipped into the alley. It was Liano Giradano, nephew of the current Don of the Giradano. He had a bounty of a cool $500,000, and was known as “The Butcher.” If that wasn’t a clue to his personality, his body count of 127 different people and the fact that most of his victims had to be stitched back together to be buried was. Huey stood up from the spot where he was sitting on the edge of the building and stretched himself out. Time to get to work.

He jumped off the building as the four below grouped together. It was a 12 story drop, lethal to any normal man. But… he was anything but normal.

He landed as gentle as a feather right in the middle of the group. Taking advantage of their obvious shock, he threw three of them away hard, straight into walls, or a dumpster in the last one’s unfortunate case. He looked around at the last one standing, Liano, and moved. Liano had already started to move for his gun, but Huey already had his pistol in hand. The criminal cried out in pain the next moment, after Huey put a bullet in the hand reaching for his gun. Before Liano could even think about doing anything, he was pistolwhipped by the bounty hunter and out like a light. Huey holstered his gun as he said, “Alright Eva, call down the processors so I can get my money. I need to get to my sister’s game soon.”

Unfortunately, things were not going to be that simple. As if his gunshot had sparked a storm, the distinctive sounds of gunfire erupted from the streets. Huey ran to the end of the alley and peaked out to see two groups of people in the streets firing all sorts of weapons at each other. People were screaming in terror, fires were engulfing cars, the street were pure chaos. “Eva… what the hell is going on?”

“It looks like some company troops are fighting is something, I don’t know, there isn’t anything on the net yet. Oh, crap! Huey, you have to get going! The fighting is moving toward the condo!”

Huey pulled his gun right back out, made sure it was fully loaded, and nodded. “Alright, I am on the way. Give me updates as the info comes in.”

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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#, 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

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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

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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: Brian Major Character Portrait: Amada Rubi
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Brian looked over his initial notes as he dimly spectated the aftermath movement with his PET waves. To be honest, there was not much, just his hunches about gangster vs paramilitary and the basic rundown of the firefight. The most important notes he deemed were the ones on the oddball pair that had showed up. For sure they were his angle in this story he thought to himself as he mulled over the situation. And regaining his composure. That too. That was important.

That was also apparently obvious to the others around as he broke from his deep thought to an offhanded "You might want to get a drink too man, you are as pale as a ghost.". Brian inwardly cured as he noticed one of the three people he was trying to track go sauntering by him, and one of the others was missing. Great. Great job you are doing there Bry, way to step it up. He sighed as he watched the guy walk over and into some bar-type-thing or another. Seemed to be styled after the old west cowboy crap. Eh, good enough for him he pondered as he looked over and considered making his way over there.

That is, until he was rudely interrupted AGAIN by one of the three people he was trying to keep track of... AGAIN.

They say two out of three ain't bad? Well he just hit three for three in not being able to keep track of them. Way to go champ.

"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?" Ms. Scary herself grumbled at him as he stood up free of the car, and finally put away his pad that she was eyeing. Last thing he needed was her to try to confiscate that. His entire notes from his meeting earlier were on there too right now. Of course, the thing was armed to the teeth with internal security (can never be too careful) but depending on her resources... he'd rather not risk it. Whelp, looked like it was time to take his leave.

"Ah, sorry about that." He smiled sheepishly at her "Sensationalize may be the wrong way to put it from where I am standing though. Someone is gonna talk, I may as well make a living out of it and get the facts straight. Leave it to the big news guys to 'sensationalize'" He smirked out of the corner of his mouth at his unintended rhyme, though admittedly, that may be the wrong decision with how she was waving that gun around. It seemed she clearly didn't want him around any longer, and wise-cracks might not be the way to go. "But I hear ya." He continued, "My work here is done so I'll get outta here so you can do yours. I think I'll be fine finding my way out of here though. I'm just gonna head over there to get a drink first. Maybe it can stop my throat from tasting like shit. Have a good one." He said that last line as he started to back away and turn from her and let out another breath, hoping not to get shot in the back. He didn't have a really good read on her yet, but she didn't seem the type to just shoot a reporter like him being an innocent and all, but.... well he did say he hadn't gotten a good read on her yet.

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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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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."