2195/Dark Knight Inquisition: Phage Notice

Dark Knight Inquisition: Phage Notice
Date of Scene:	27 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Molly Millions, Phage

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Molly Millions has posed:
Text messages from ghosts. Bonus points when they're cryptic. In the case of the message sent to Carl, not only is it from the garbled mess that passes for Molly's 'phone number', but it ominously says:

-- meet me on the mats. eyes open. --

Not that he isn't bright enough to be cautious about being followed in the first place, so the apparent necessity to add an extra advisement regarding that fact probably doesn't bode well at all. The call center looks completely dead and empty from the outside. Absent lights or sign that it even has power or running water. The black and grey sedan is absent.

Up on the eighth floor Molly is doing some... deconstruction that can't be heard from the lower floors, but she has left out a black metallic drone in the shape of a spider that's approximately the size of a backpack.

Phage has posed:
Carl looked at the message when at his penthouse apartment, fresh from some needed remodelling, and dropped the inspection when the message came through. Opening the window, after grabbing an essential or two, and diving off the edge of the building the sound of the silken sinew firing from his wrist is unheard, as is the whisper quiet webslinging across town.

Eyes open were the two words he took in. That's code for t minus too late for the world to be exploding or walking into an active firefight. Normally that means indierct or improvised entry points but... Mach realises the resident AI is not something he wants to get into a misunderstanding with.

So, landing in an alley, long coat flowing freely, even though there's no wind, he approaches the door to the building, wiping his feet, doing as much of a perimiter check as can be before entering. It's all dark. Power's cut. "Look, Bogatyr, not taking the stairs but I'm not treading on your circuits either here. Okay big guy?"

Can't hurt to say before he prises the elevator doors open, up through the roof hatch, wall crawling up to the training floor then prising open the elevator doors on that floor. He opens them from above and awaits any preemptive strike. When none comes he swings out, feet first, landing in the middle of the room. A machine pistol in each hand sweeping his twelve and six, then three and nine, fingers already squeezing that first part of pressure on the trigger.

Molly Millions has posed:
It's the almost invisible body of the spider drone that has alerted her before he's even managed to prise the doors open carefully and take the most silent way up. It stays below to keep an eye out, but it means that when he opens the door what's left of Molly's space she's... well, in Molly mode. Black pants. Black wifebeater, under shoulder holster filled with a black-and-white checkered pistol that's just a little... odd... to be mistaken for a modern day weapon. And a sledgehammer.

The back of a hand is used to wipe some dust from her cheek with an upnod and the barest curl of a smile,"I'm alone. So far." she opts for drily, lofting the sledgehammer with more ease than someone of her size should have in order to knock another portion of the wall out. The rest of the floor beyond is open up to the windows, obscured behind a layer of baffling and old cubicle walls to help insure that the vague lighting isn't visible from the outside.

"The Sally identity has been compromised." she offers plainly after the swing at the wall,"I was informed that my associates might be included in this... grudge, so I'm liquidating."

Phage has posed:
Mach looks another time as, well, you do. "You got a fresh legend set up? Or needed a cleaner?" Obviously not mop bucket and squeegie. The kind of useful person every operative is looking for. Like a good assassin, accountant, tech support for hardware or software, or even medical attention... everyone looks for the person who's good at their job, in this case someone who cleans up after the proverbial party, records, forensics, visual inspection, even witnesses and authorities... all clean and clear and under control. If done right. That's why it's so hard to find a good one.

Carl then offers a slow dry chuckle, "Or was it demolitions... as it looks like you already got your place under the hammer quickly enough." Conversation usually demands certain social conventions. Communication between operatives doesn't so he does keeps checking the angles, still keeping weapons readied. "Although you could give a guy some warning to get ready. I got these that I bought as a joke. 'cause I liked the film Robocop."

He chuckles at his own expense, "Any real hardware's not to hand again after the remodel. They had to work on places that were supposed to be empty."

Molly Millions has posed:
"Until three months ago I didn't exist in this world, Carl... there's surprisingly few things I need to dispose of." Molly offers drily as she lets the hammer slide between her fingers to set it down with the head on the ground and handle up,"I've got Shadow watching the entrance, that's how I knew it was you, Muffin's on the roof. We've got warning if he makes a move now." she asserts, reaching to grab the drywall and yank it down.

"No, it's a heads-up. I haven't found eyes on this place which is why I felt it better for you to come to me than me to you. If it's already been compromised, there's no point providing other leads. If it's not, then theer's no cause for concern." she murmurs, dropping the drywall into the pile and prowling over with a wry chuckle,"There's a carbine in the fridge, the shotgun's in the bathroom. Shadow's also armed, as am I. But at this point I think the goal is blackmail rather than death."

Phage has posed:
"Still, no harm in being prepared. Though call me a boyscout and I'm out the first window." Mach jokes before the now familiar flow of liquid changes his costume. A tactical set of yellow lensed night vision goggles replaces his glasses, a black hood covering his head and the long coat receding to reveal generic gear. Really he could be one of a million players amonst the various known persons. Apart from the height. Never can change that. At 6'5" He'll never be in that magic mental illusion of 'non descript'. No point telling the world to be other than it is though. He more than makes up for it in other ways.

Holstering one of the pistols he stalks towards the bathroom to take the shotgun, his hand was always forced to attack with as much fanfare as possible and overwhelm. Small and stealthy he is not. So, play to your strengths, don't bemoan the world not being what you want. "I'll admit..." Mach says, testing the heft of the shotgun, getting used to its balance "... I didn't realise I'd get a courtesy call. Appreciated. I need to burn the phone?"

He's probably kept the industry going allong with those in the same business. Calls can be intercepted, phones compromised so, the burner thrown away after a short use becomes commonplace. Even if he still isn't sure how he'd dial Molly's "number" on a new one if it weren't pre programmed. "Are you going fully dark or just moving on?" He asks as he returns. Really the answer is the same. If she is cutting all ties and disappearing she'll say she isn't. Same the other intention round. You still gotta ask the question though. It's what's done.

Molly Millions has posed:
"What's a boyscout?" Molly asks blankly. The shotgun... wasn't made my human hands. It's of no manufacture, everything precision machined and fitted together with the kind of exacting detail that, really, only a machine can provide.. and that before the pop-up holographically augmented sights. It might feel light, but it's solid.

"I don't believe he's tracking me that way. As, quite frankly, the archaic state of telecommunications in this world has issues with my sense net as it is. But, of course you get a heads up. The man has no honor in dragging other people into this... but that doesn't mean I need to cast aside my own morals."

"You have my number. Once I'm finished I'm going to have a friend extract me to Genosha as a launch platform, work out where to go on a more permanent basis from there. The Imperator needs a heads up too, if only so he can publically distance himself from my daughter and I."

Phage has posed:
"Figure of speech" Mach says with a unseen smile, "Their motto was or is 'always be prepared' a club for kids. So it's used as a slightly joking term for someone who is always prepared. Also an suggestion of innocence at someone usually in the community who shout know better." He admits, the future's forgot some stuff. You gotta be able to laugh at some things.

He then gets stopped short of speaking. Okay, she's hardly going to mention people who are dependents, bad tradecraft, but it was a consideration he hadn't expected she'd have to deal with. "I take it then your daughter's already protected? ... measures for dealing with the situation already in place?" Also. Imperator. Sounds like politics. Some things, like family, he never had. Others, like politics, he doesn't want unless it's mission critical.

Molly Millions has posed:
"...a club, for kids?" Molly asks blankly, then shakes her head,"Nevermind. I think it's one of those cultural things that this place just... I'll never get it." which is why she turns to pick up the sledgehammer again with a curt nod of her head,"People like you, you can protect yourselves. That, I'm not worried about... but he comes within smelling distance of her and I'll shoot him dead and damn the fallout." the sledgehammers raised over her head and brought down on the frame for the bed with perhaps a little more violence than strictly necessary.

"They call him the Batman. Apparently the vengeful, judgmental fuck is supposed to be some kind of hero? And he's at least got an ethos of not killing people. But dealing with the problem in my normal way," kill them and get rid of the problem,"would only make things worse. So I'm out. Turned in my resignation this morning, dismantled the rest of my safe houses. Before dawn I'll be gone."

Phage has posed:
"I seen him before." Mach says, okay it's been on threat assessment reports, but he has seen him. Just on security footage. "Funded, not just anyone has the resources to consume the custom loadout he does so regularly." He then takes a deep breath, followed by another. Okay, just say, then it's said. He sighs. "I know you're gonna go straight to no. As you're possibly more stubborn than even I am."

He takes another breath and continues, "But. If there's anything you need, or want, done... or set up you can call on me. There. I said. You'll say no but I gotta offer. Professional courtesy. Even if it's a drink that hasn't became a brickdust mixer cocktail." All done. And in three... two... one...

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly grunts,"I was hoping we were done after his boy tried to murder me. But no such luck. And yeh... he bounced me in a subway car and I didn't see him coming. He kept his toys to himself, but felt entitled to know things I don't feel like sharing. And when I offered to share what I could without breaking professional ethics, he up and vanished. In between having basically tried to pump me for information about my allies." which is why the sledgehammer gets slammed on a surface again with more vigor.

"No." he called the answer,"I get clear and you're willing to take the risk we can meet for drinks somewhere that isn't... America. but the less involved in this you are, the less shit he has to try and pin on you if he knows who you are. Yes?"

Phage has posed:
Happily smiling Mach gets this is going to be a professional bit of their rapport. He has to offer practical or tactical and she refuses. He's not gonna laugh though. Even if it takes Phage cutting off his air supply. This is normal to him. Not the trappings of civilian life or an alien costume. Normal's what you make it. "Orders recieved and understood. Yes ma'am." Mach says and does sort of salute, raising the pistol wielding arm to the ceiling and bringing it back down swiftly.

All the time he's deadly careful not to have the barrel trace anywhere that isn't entirely safe. "You got it. So what you think about the situation? Heroics a cover for information broking? Just too long doing what he wants to know why any more?" He's, in all but name, a spy. He can't help but pull at the details and see what they say. Motivations matter. Why he's doing what he's doing gives an advantage.

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly just snorts at him for the salute, pausing to mop her hair out of her eyes and set aside the sledge hammer again so she can pull on some gloves and start yanking out bedframe bits to add to the pile,"You're asking me the motivations of a thing that doesn't exist in my experience. I mean... you have an excuse for your suit... it's part of Phage. But all I've seen from these costumed freaks is a bunch of holier-than-thou judgment and interference in the lives of others purely and simply for stroking their own ego's."

She prowls over in the direction of the fridge, but it's water, not alcohol for once. Can't risk blunting their senses right now after all, grabbing one to offer out his way,"I don't understand the phenomenon that led to their development, or the kind of... powers, that seem to make them feel like they have the right to play judge to everyone else. It also doesn't matter to me, my life isn't his business, no matter how much he's apparently decided it is."

Phage has posed:
Holstering the other pistol Mach takes the other water and works the top off one handed. After a good few gulps of it Mach says, "Oh... the costumes matter. The why behind the what matters. He doesn't have powers. So that costume was a choice. A deliberate statement. Know more about that and you've got another shot in the chamber. Just like I said, he's funded, so why not do the legit route and literally make the world a better place. Enough infrastructure and rent control and anyone could save the world. He sticks on ears to poke into others business and punch people in the face. Yeah... rationalised by no killing."

Another drink from the bottle's followed by a shrug, "Dunno what it is. Dunno why they do. Not currently part of my operational parameters. But, if they were, it'd be my first approach. Information's always as good as words or weapons. Just something to think about. Best takedowns I've ever had I never so much as fired a shot." Not that he's ever been adverse to doing the same. ust there are approaches to the same situation.

Molly Millions has posed:
"I just... don't get the mentality it requires to put on tights and jump around like an idiot." Molly grunts sourly, taking a breather for the moment so she can listen to what he has to say without the distraction of the sledgehammer,"By what logic are they actually making the world a better place?" she asks, rubbing at her forehead,"I'm not funded, and I'm not going to indebt myself to someone to change that. Yes, information is valuable and I'm absent a decker or half the support I'm used to having. So for me this is a no win fight that I didn't pick and have no interest in pursuing. Given that answer is apparently not sufficient? I'm going with 'fuck it take the country, I'll go live somewhere not populated by costumed freaks'."

Phage has posed:
Shrugging again, "I dunno. Self satisfaction, yeah, but it makes no real difference. Agree with you there." He then replays the rest of what she said, a few times, in his head. Yeah. The other points make sense. Morons don't wear uniforms. Go to the outer reaches of reality and you'll have fifty of them on you. Won't take nothing from no one... well. Agree to disagree there. The call to cut out and ghost is a smart play. Especially as it isn't just her she has to think about. But... no matter which way he recalls it there isn't even a clue in context. Drinking from the water again he asks, curious, "For those of us that are more 'me bang rocks together' here, decker? What's that? I'm guessing it's a future thing but I'd not know one if you fed it to me."

Molly Millions has posed:
"It's not that bad." Molly insists with regards to banging rocks together,"...Almost. But not quite." even though there's the curl of her lip to suggest that she's downplaying the technology level,"The closest equivalent is a hacker. But even then it's a misnomer. The internet is nothing like the matrix aside from the basic credential of being an online repository of information. The one here is piteously small and relatively useless. But it's... more information than I have time to really sit down and analyze for the kind of information that's productive to me. A decker gathers information, they handle online security where necessary and provide eyes in the sky. Invaluable, when you have one worth their salt that can be trusted. Had a few good ones over the years, but here...? No. And while I can... make do with my augs, it's frustrating."

She grimaces again and shakes her head with a sigh,"I've had to rebuild from scratch what it took a lifetime to build. In a place that... doesn't make sense to me. Four months ago I would have slapped some derms on you and called for a clinic to collect... if I didn't just sell you for parts, because who the hell in their right mind would believe in alien symbiote's and flying caped people in tights? The whole thing's like a bad wizz trip without an end and this is the shit you people consider /normal/. I'd give my right arm to have Case here. Or hell, I'd take Finn or the Dixie Flatline even. But instead it's just..." she gestures around the room with both hands as if it's supposed to encompass the whole world.

Phage has posed:
Mach tilts his hooded head to the side then abandons the hood, googles and all. "Okay. So it's a deaddraw here." Mach starts simply. "To be fair though... you're displaced across two dimensions here. It's okay to say it ain't home so it ain't good enough." Mach then sighs, cursing silently into his chest. Finally he mutters, "Fine! Fine. Just... knock it off, huh?" He doesn't look up, sighing again, and saying "I have to also say, so Chatty McWon't-Shaddup give me a break here... dermal patches and the biochemistry they may use are ineffective... as someone has to sho off rather than shut trap."

He then looks up... "Kill me. I got a smart alex no so silent partner here." Laughing softly as, sometimes you gotta, Mach says, "Right. So A Decker's a cyberspy for something that's closest analogy is the internet but, really, the web doesn't have the tiniest fraction of function the... matrix?... has." He shakes his head. "Still. I'm old enough to remember when there was no internet. Some things can still be done the old fashioned way. Yeah. I'm gonna go for a two-fer so shoot now if you wanna stop me."

"You're not solo, you got contacts and support networks. Use them. Local knowledge is a hundred and fifty percent of the lore... I might be as future fail as they come but, hell, I don't have to get it to get the right answer for you. Never have before. So... keep on the objective and if you wanna work out any frustration from this poor excuse for a reality, bring a few clips and look me up."

Molly Millions has posed:
There's a pursing of Molly's lips,"The only people who have claimed to be able to detect such things say it's nowhere even close in terms of dimensional neighborhoods." she then gives a bark of a laugh at Phage's insistence,"I'm still horrified you use cellular phones." there's a wrinkle of her nose before she takes another swig from the water and prowls back over to her work,"I do. And I'm utilizing them in the way I consider to be best. Not just for my safety, but their's too. Because my world or this one... it doesn't pay to fuck over your network. My systems are patched for compatibility, I have local funds, it doesn't make the situation less... frustrating, but I'm not dead yet."

Phage has posed:
Mach approaches her, a symbiotic tendril taking the shotgun and resting it agains a wall, "You're trained. I'm trained." Mach states, "You didn't know what a boyscout was, I didn't know a dekker. One way or another... there are things you wouldn't even think to ask, things people'd do if they only were told to. But this time and place is the home field advantage. Some people you always give a pass... as they never signed up for it. I did. I chose rebellion, escape, compromising, negociating, the field, the call, the job, Phage. I'm disposable and deniable and I chose it every step of the way. There's plenty that costs me nothing that I can give if you stop being so damned self sacrificing and give me the green light. I could meet the business end of death with no do-over one of a hundred ways with or without involving myself in the work. It's what I do, what I chose, and the only place the world makes sense. I'll keep on you about this unless you shove a microwave down my throat and hit a la mode... but, for now, take a break, get me something that doesn't feel like it's healthy to drink and I'll take a stab at dismantling. Take a small rest. You'll need it for border jumping." He pauses, sighs, waits for the refusal and adds, "At least I can give you this without you fighting me. Good luck."

Molly Millions has posed:
"If I'd decided you were disposable I'd have left you to find out about the Bat on your own." Molly points out, though she does cede the sledgehammer to him with a snort,"I'm not going to war with the Bat. That's... sort of the point of all this." she offers as she prowls over to the cupboard to grab some booze,"I don't have to understand his morality, or even agree with it. I don't agree with his army of child soldiers or this judgmental bullshit of interfering in other people's lives just because he can. But I've taken a look at some of the guys he's trying to keep contained, and even if I think he'd be better off just killing them all and letting the deity of their choice sort out the aftermath... I'll at least concede it's probably better to leave them to their war of attrition and avoid the hell out of being dragged into it."

She prowls back over with the scotch to offer him,"Conversely, you kill him, all the little baby bats... Robins, apparently? They're going to have a grudge and a target. And I, for one, am not okay with killing kids."

Phage has posed:
Mach takes the offered sledgehammer one handed from her. Getting a good two handed grip he takes an experimental swing at a section of drywall. Even pulling the blow at the lower limist of his assisted strength he wasn't expecting such an impact. As the dust settles his sleeves recede, some things are better handled the old fashioned way, turning the tactical top into a sleeveless vest, and although his shoulders are cover along with his back, should give less bang in the next one.

Shouldering the hammer to take a drink then setting it aside for another swing, still on the strong side, there's a chuckle as he pauses and says, "I'm not talking about killing. All that does is escalate situations. Point is it doesn't hurt having leverage. Something that can turn enemys into... enemies, but with a coinciding interest, Even if it's something that's motivation to not follow. More often a lockout works better. Just having extra options. They've interests, secrets, the same things they threatened you by attacking. One option is to look further to have insurance."

Mach hangs the sense of it, taking the scotch in his left and lets his right torso form the clawed armoured form of Phage's torso. Swatting, bashing and picking up the pace with one... handed?... clawed?... swings and anoter drink after he's satisfied what's easiest, Mach pauses again and adds, "But that's rookie kids stuff. Me? I'm just offering the kinda thing I'd do. Respect the call but, once you got a new place looked on the more permanent, offer some suggestions as to construction, special materials, cleaning access points and restrict others. Some tailored security tuned to certain unusual assaults and known associates of the same."

He tips his head to the side and quirks a brow before adding, "There are plenty of costumed freaks, no offense to myself, about. Profiling those capabilites is more important than ever and effective counters to them for security is something people demand all the more. First and foremost... I'm best as a profiler. You got options. I'm saying there's more than nuclear. So, like or not, you can call on me for a different approach. If you need one."

Molly Millions has posed:
"Generally I find it solves problems. But, well, there's a lot less people here. People notice more, I guess." Molly's lenses turn after the symbiote's work on the drywall with a quiet snort. She's not dragging the pieces towards an exit, just making a pile of them for now at least,"It's not my way, Carl. I mean, don't get me wrong... Johnny, Jones and I spent the better part of eight years putting the screws to people who'd paid Johnny to ship their dirty little secrets... and that's part of how he ended up dead."

She squats and starts tossing some of the smaller bits onto the pile,"I don't blackmail. I can give him the information he wants without betraying my ethics, so I'll leave it with Bogatyr when I leave and after that, he's got no reason to look into where I've gone and what I'm doing." there's a dip of her head,"When I get to that point, sure, we can talk security. Right now, I don't know where that's going to be. I want clear of this place by dawn. The less time I give him to work out where I am, the better." there's just a smile regarding the last, a slightly bitter twist of her mouth, though she doesn't elect to explain why.

Phage has posed:
"How clean are you wanting this?" Mach asks, "As I know a good salvage merchant that can take and dispose of the spoil." He then nods to the work already done, "Leaves you free to speed up your plans, give you a window of free time before the sun rises." He doesn't mention that it's him. Businesses can be useful for many things. They do what you might need to anyway. So, need to get rid of large amounts of rubbish, organic waster or even glow in the dark? Get a few licences, some equipment and you can even cover your costs doing it. Just. "You throwing false trails?" He asks casually after another pause and swig, "As, again, if you need a guy, I know one." Again he mentions not who.

Molly Millions has posed:
"I have no fingerprints, but habits of a person can say things about them. I don't want him to potentially gain insight into the way I work. The other places came as they are, all I had to do was scrub them and bounce. This one this... unit... needs to be dismantled. I've... got a handle on it. The less you know about what I'm doing probably the best, yes? In the least... less things to tie you and your employer to my shit. Once it's clean... I'll be gone. No-one could track me."

She draws herself to her feet,"But you? You should probably get out of here. Just in case he's watching this place. Longer you're in here, the closer he's going to figure you are. Even though Muffin and Shadow haven't spotted anything yet."

Phage has posed:
Mach rests the hammer down, a fluid transition to his civilian clothes, and, after another drink he says, with no sense or semblance of seriousness. "I see how it is. Call the caveman to smash rocks together and kick me to the kerb when the real work needs a-doing." It's the world he understands. Good to laugh about the things you know. More normally he adds "Although, your team? Damned good job. Didn't see either of them on my approach. So, compliments to them." He has one last draw from the bottle and then looks around. "There a basement in this place? Or a roof access? Either'd be enough to let me get going."

Molly Millions has posed:
There's a laugh from Molly,"Oh but you're so good at smashing rocks, oh caveman." she nods in the direction of the bottle,"Keep that. Basement's Bog's. Taking you down there would be a... bad idea. But yeh. Roof access is over this way." she prowls off behind the elevator to open the door up,"Don't kick the mechanical spider. It's the second smallest drone I've got." she lurks by the door, leaning up against the frame to offer a kiss of his cheek at least,"Be careful, Carl. Once I'm settled I'll give you a call about those drinks, yeh?"

Phage has posed:
Carl's went through some changes, so the definition of what and who have been blurred. Giving the mecha-spider a mini salute he says as he passes, "Different people, similar references. Very cool. Keep up the good work soldier." He strides over to the elevator door and, emboldened by recent success, tries something new. At first the smooth bodied version, minus hood, takes his form, then, it starts to blur.

The surface is twisting and changing to appear like what's behind him, thus fading his body out to nothing by appearance alone. Stopping short of the elevator and feeling a kiss brush across his cheek, not noticng the bottle he has in tow ruins the illusory effect, not to mention his unhooded head, he gives the slightest nod and says, "Careful. You're supposed to be getting me to leave." He then adds, "I will. In fact..." further symbiotic matter covers the bottle and his head both, masking their presence out too. "... they'll never see me coming."