Raze sat away from the campfire that his men had prepared. He merely stood while the rest of the bandits rested or ate. He kept looking in the direction of Red Light, his mind filled with violent thoughts. Thoughts of the things he would do to those Synthetics. He gently rubbed his burns, they had healed substantially, but they still caused great pain. The burning fuel would have killed a normal man, but his healing factor saved him. The scars would not heal for years, though. His thoughts were interrupted by a glimpse of a figure in the distance. He squinted at the seemingly human shape. He whistled loudly, to bring his men to attention. Within seconds, they were at his side, with their guns ready. As the figure drew closer, they had recognised it was a man, covered head to toe, in black. His face was covered by a ski mask and goggles. Raze only stared at him. The stranger began to speak, his hands raised slightly.
"Calm yourselves, gentlemen. I only want a few words," he began. "I know what you're after, and I think I can help you get it."
Raze stayed silent. His men were murmuring to one another. One of the bandits began whispering to Raze.
"You should let me cut 'em, boss, we don't need any help, we can fin-" He started, but was interrupted when Raze gripped his jugular, and ripped it from the bandits throat. The other bandits went silent. As the bandit lay on the ground, struggling to breath, Raze knelt down.
"I tell us what we 'should' do." Raze said, quietly. He looked up at the stranger. "You better know what you're doing." he said, mockingly. The badits lowered their guns.
The stranger put his hands down and reached into his pocket.
"I promise you, you'll find more use in me than your current party. For starters..." He said, pulling a bright-yellow folder from his black jacket. "I know who they are."
K wandered aimlessly in the cold night, singing incoherently. He began to spin, as if ballroom dancing, but his dance was interrupted, and he spun into an unseeable object. He looked closely at what he had impacted with, fasinated. The air infront of him was glimmering, like the surface of water. K giggled and clapped. He rather enjoyed his magic air. The glimmering air changed into something else, however, in it's place appeared a tall, sleak Spectre, with a Midnight-Blue chassis. As the Synthetic de-cloaked, he aimed his crossbow directly at K's head. Before he could pull the trigger, however, he heard a whistle from behind him. The snow began to move, and from it's surface, a white ghille suit emerged. K yelped at the sight of this living snow, and rushed behind a nearby rock. The synthetic sighed irritably.
"What are you doing, Nala?" The synthetic demanded. "We aren't supposed to be discovered, we need to dispose of any witnesses."
Nala removed her mask to reveal a cold, contempt stare.
"Our orders were to observe, Dex, and avoid unecessary death. Besides..." She gestured at K, who was still cowering behind the rock. "Who's going to believe HIM?"
The Synthetic considered that, and lowered his crossbow. Nala put her mask back on.
"I think we've seen enough. The two Synthetics are still at the brothel. Let's get back to the commander." she commanded, and with that, Dex cloaked once more, and Nala disappeared in the snow.
K looked up, hesitantly. The magic air and the living snow were gone, he stood slowly, and after a few moments of blankly staring into space, he completely forgot what happened and continued to dance in the snow.
Roland rushed back to look at the window. He was positive he detected the life signatures this time, but when he looked, he only saw the man in the gas mask, dancing like a fool, again. He fell back into his chair. Maybe he WAS getting old. His thoughts were interrupted by Rhoda, who was collecting empty drinks from the tables.
"Never thought a robot could get antsy." She said, with mock fasination. Roland felt compelled to get into a "robot vs. synthetic" arguement, but was conviced that's what the Gene-mod wanted. Roland simply leaned back into his chair.
"Well, even us Synthetics get nervous," he began to say, then looked at the Horseshoe crab barkeep. "When there are bugs around." Rhoda stopped breifly, then continued her task in silence.
That seemed to shut her up. Roland thought. Then she passed by his table, and as she passed him, seemingly tripped, sending a half-full pint flying into Roland's lap, it's contents soaking his pants. He leapt up and immediately attempted to clean it off, before he short-circuted. Afterwards he turned to Rhoda, who was acting innocent.
"Whoops, clumsy me..." She said sarcastically, and continued with her chore.
Roland placed a hand on his revolver, but just then a loud beep came from behind. Elena stared at him, with her hands on her hips with an angry expression on her display. Roland put his hands up in defeat.
"In my defense, she started it." He said quickly, but Elena's death stare did not relent until the door had opened. Everyone glanced at the newcomer, who was dressed entirely in black. As he walked in, he looked around the room, until his gaze met Elena. He smiled at her, but quickly looked away, and continued to the bar. He removed his coat and placed it on his chair, and ordered a drink. As he drank he occasionally looked back at Elena. Elena beeped nervously, and Rhoda, who had not took her eye off the stranger, started whispering at Roland.
"I agree with her, this guy looks like bad news." she said. Just as she said that, though, the man turned around to face them.
"You, the Synthetic girl. Mind if I have a word?" He said, seeming friendly. Elena, confused at first, reluctantly approached the man. She sat next to him, and he began to speak quietly to her. Roland and Rhoda watched expectantly. Suddenly Elena beeped happily, as if laughing. Roland and Rhoda glanced at eachother, then Roland stood, to greet the stranger.
"If you don't mind, stranger, it's a bit rude to drag someone off with no explination." Roland said, trying to remain friendly. The stranger looked earnestly at Roland.
"It's quite alright, you see..." he started. "Me and Elena go way back."
Increasingly, me liking is much the weft leaving me doubt that can happen.
I like where this is going. Care to have a short (yet drawn out over a long distance of time) discussion on what is going on? Via notes so we can keep this secret from everyone else.
Fine by me, or we can use Steam.
Steam would require me being online at the same time as you. Notes... Not so much. Just send me a note giving me a general idea of what you have planned, and then ill reply after i wake up tomorrow.
It fun to see that my bar has become the default meeting place for everybody. Great use of K, also.