Clusterfrag

Molly

A PUTAINE, YOU SAY… She presses a couple fingers to her temple, as if thoughtful, or maybe just staving off a migraine, as she flicks open her other hand, summoning her familiar agent into view. [Ne, I want everything you can find on this Ilya fraghead. Bonus points if you can find the weird stuff....

Molly

UNFORTUNATELY FOR US, OUR SILVER-TONGUED, CLUB-HOPPING SOCIALITE FRIEND HAD BETTER THINGS TO DO TONIGHT. She finds herself gritting her teeth subconsciously, as though biting back a genuine sense of hurt. Apparently, she's landed somewhere between the anger and bargaining stage of grieving Yung's s...

Molly

The immediacy of the contact's response is enough catch the little recluse off guard, never mind the effect that the French has on her. She'd wrongfully assumed they'd have time for a drink and a little plotting before getting a response, but apparently the guy hasn't anything better to do than to t...

Molly

"YOU DO MAKE A HELL OF A FIRST IMPRESSION." Mouse grins under her mask at Mick's apt characterization as she shuffles in after them. "I WAS HALF-CONVINCED YOU WERE GOING TO EAT ME BACK IN BONGOLAND. BUT DESPITE ALL EXPECTATIONS, YOU HAVEN'T... YET."

Molly

Our vicar says you've got an in with a great Bible Study group. We should talk. Drinks on us. Mouse squints hard at the text floating in the AR space before her, struggling to channel the breezy air Yung always channeled. The words feel stilted and forced coming from her. Unable to think of anythi...

Molly

SO KA. The synths help conceal a soft huff under her breath. I SUPPOSE WE OUGHT TO GET STARTED ON OUR HOMEWORK THEN. She glances back at her teammates in confirmation. LET'S START BY REACHING OUT TO PREACHER'S CLUB-HOPPING CONTACT, AND SEE IF HE HAS ANY ANSWERS FOR US. Her attention fixes briefly o...

Molly

Forcing herself to once again feign professionality, she nods her head in appreciation. THAT DOES REMIND ME OF ONE LINGERING QUESTION. ARE YOU AWARE OF ANY OTHER PARTIES WITH AN INTEREST IN VOLKOV SPECIFICALLY? She cocks her head slightly, struggling to read the inscrutable Johnson's expression. IT ...

Molly

Mouse perks up at this request, and is quick to jump in. IF NOT, THE INFORMATION FOR YOUR CONTACT SHOULD SUFFICE. AFTER ALL, FINDING WEIRD SEX STUFF IS MY SPECIALTY. Besides marking an immediate lapse in professionality now that the bargaining phase is mercifully over, her comment is in many ways a ...

Molly

The little decker clasps her hands in front of her and dips her head appreciatively, in an instinctive gesture that nonetheless feels awkward the instant she does it. WAKARIMASHITA. UNLESS ANYONE HAS ANY MORE QUESTIONS, I BELIEVE WE HAVE WORK TO ATTEND TO. She twists her head to address her teammate...

Molly

Thank frag for Reiya and her supernatural ability to bridge the gap between this new teammate and the horrible little basement dweller that had been practically hissing about his proximity. When he splays a handful of the cards before them, Mouse can feel herself relax somewhat, shoulders drawing do...

Molly

Mouse can feel herself bristle involuntarily as Preacher initially utters the phrase "Nightclub"- at least until cool reason washes over her and prevents the immediate adrenaline rush of social panic. Surely it's been repurposed into some kind of makeshift safehouse by now, its conversion ...

Molly

Uncharacteristically sloppy, if so. The response is quick, delivered with little more than a faint, pensive furrow in the decker's brow betraying her uncertainty. Rather than succumb to the temptations of an unsecured comm, she forces her attention on Preacher's words, and the (unsubstantiated) cla...

Molly

The decker's been quiet, admittedly falling back on old, comfortable habits, from the days she could rely on others to do the speaking for her. Even if it's Mick this time, she finds herself biting back a grin at their clean dissection of Preacher's usual bulldrek. Meanwhile, her attention flits bet...

Molly

Even in the increasingly familiar trappings of the Immortal Son, Mouse catches herself glancing about her surroundings, less out of caution than expectation. After all, this is about the time that the silence would normally be broken by a wild guitar riff, as Yung, riding a skateboard, would come cr...

Molly

IF YOU DON’T WANT HIM, I’D BE HAPPY TO TAKE HIM. The decker’s eyes twist into wicked little crescents, undoubtedly a byproduct of some horrible little grin behind her mask. She punctuates this thought by giving one of the van’s taillights a cheeky slap as she makes her way toward the church. C’MON....

Molly

It was nice while it lasted. Not the everyone dying part- that obviously sucked. But for a time, Mouse was well positioned to do what Mouse did best: hole up in her little decker-den without ever venturing outside or seeing anyone. With a ready stash of instant ramen and facemasks, and the entire ma...

Molly

03:17 AM - “The Rat’s Nest" The decker sits cross-legged in her cramped apartment, hunched over her latest experiment. Mouse herself is bedraggled, not having left for some [???] days beforehand. Really, she has little sense of how long it's been, with her own post-operative haze blurring the ...

Molly

By now, Mouse has made her way to the ship's interior, deferring to her better instincts to stop standing around in the midst of a waning storm. Instead, she’s claimed a corner beside one of the interior loungers, butt on the floor and body curled into a ball. When Axel mercifully breaks the team's ...

Molly

Mouse instinctively braces against the increasingly distant explosions, but refuses to turn away entirely, adamant on capturing the surreal footage through her lenses. LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE DOESN'T WANT THEIR CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY OUT IN THE OPEN, she muses, keeping her head craned ever so slightly t...

Molly

Her eyes scrunch shut, her small fists clench and release, as though she were contending with a looming migraine rather than this anonymous and foreboding counsel. For frag’s sake, intrusive messages, can’t you be more specific? She hisses outwardly, her voice largely consumed by the surrounding win...

Molly

Everything's fine. Or more accurately, the things that are distinctly un-fine are about to explode and/or go down with this ship. The mysterious footsteps she'd heard only moments prior? Any remaining zombies on board that hadn't yet been dispatched? Boom. Sploosh. Not her problem anymore. Deliberat...

Molly

""...OVERCOMPLICATING SIMPLE TASKS?"" A wicked little grin of anticipatory delight slips past the the sass.

Molly

OH THANK FUCK. Mouse exhales, her shoulders visibly relaxing with Yung’s success in securing the green light to escape. Sure, they're not yet out of dodge, but this is still the first good news they've gotten since boarding. YOU HEARD THE BOSS. LET'S MOVE. She swivels her head around to find which ...

Molly

Mouse physically winces at the mention of the kid, but opts to keep her mouth shut and put her faith in the resident bulldrek artist. When prompted directly, she peers toward the DSECD to fill in. REST ASSURED, WE CAN PASS ALL DATA FROM OUR FINDINGS IN PERSON, OVER SECURE CHANNELS. GIVEN THE C.I. TH...

Molly

For quite possibly the first time in her experience, Mouse finds herself grateful to be out in the cold, the winds from the departing storm plastering her wet clothes against her skin. Again, her conscious attention remains tethered to Javad’s frail form, dragged into his orbit by the sheer gravity ...

Molly

Bolstered by the ork's lead and the presumed accompaniment of the remainder of her team, Mouse gives a hard swallow and scurries up the ladder, clearly eager to be off of this ship and out of this nightmare.

Molly

For a beat, Mick's attention lingers on the "biological sample," dripping from the curve of Achak's blade. Even as they approach to take custody of the viscera, their eyes trace the shape, which lacks the arterial scarlet of fresh and flowing blood, or strata of muscle, fat and bone distin...

Molly

The prey instinct kicks in- hackles raised, eyes wide, breath caught at the top of her chest, in the familiar freeze before the ‘flight’. The sound of Achak’s voice prompts a shallow exhalation and the resumption of movement, as she quietly points a finger upward to trace a rough directional line ov...

Molly

With a crinkle of her nose, the little decker passes the towel-wrapped nuclear football to Axel, as though the two had just delivered some radioactive newborn from the belly of the ship. (Only in this case, as responsible adults, they were about to strap the baby warhead to a drone and send it on it...

Molly

PROBABLY NOT? Mouse answers Achak's concern with little more than a shrug as she circles back to peer into the strange compartment with the mystery device. She might not have any idea what this thing is, or how it will inevitably bite her in the hoop, but maybe somewhere between her knowledge of st...

Molly

It takes the decker’s full energy just to keep pace, the stereotypical nerd forced into gym class. As the team backtracks through the lab, she pauses briefly, taking a few visual stills of the uncovered machine with her microcamera, in part a weak fig leaf against her need to pant for air. She’s onl...

Molly

[Like rats from a sinking-] With an increasingly familiar swat of her hand, Mouse silences the digital peanut gallery. It's not that it isn't apt. If anything, she's not going to reward it for being trite. Instead, she scrunches her brow in a blend of determination and consternation at their curren...

Molly

She surfaces in a cold sweat, like waking from a bad dream. Any residual doubts the decker may have over what she'd just borne electronic witness to are cast aside by the pop-horror dance tunes still blaring through her drone buddy. Her mind swims with new questions spawned from the batshittery that...

Molly

Divorced from the immediacy of the action, Mouse registers the attack from behind in abstraction: the 3 angry red markers on her sensor array, Axel’s pivot to face the enemies behind. But the onslaught remains, as a fresh wave of bodies stand between the runners and the prospect of escape. In her ph...

Molly

You hear the door slam and realize there's nowhere left to run. You feel the cold hand and wonder if you'll ever see the sun- Apropos as it may be, the soundtrack belting from the little drone is quickly swallowed by a second round of gun-chatter, as Wind fires its own volley of obscenely expensive...

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