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Post by Andrew C. Creed on Dec 25, 2018 14:19:23 GMT -5
Everything was going perfectly. Kaijin’s work towards the purifier AI had indeed advanced their progress further than any of the researchers could hope. They would ready for testing in a few months, maybe even just one. Creed would look over Biodome #12 from his office. Soon this entire planet would be his, along with Capsule Corp. Once Capsule Corp was done… Earth’s economic market would be under his control utterly. Of course it would be indirect, forming monopolies led to distrust. But all the subsidiaries working under him would provide more than enough Zeni to make him the richest man in the galaxy. Creed would press a button next to the window, causing it’s glass to polarize before walking to his bookshelf. He had set about integrating Kaijin’s prototype AI into his suit as well. The reaction time would be necessary if he ever had to deal with a being like Legume again. Luckily the bastard left only a few days after. Creed would remove a book from the shelf, causing it to slide to the side and revealing an elevator.
“Anything I should know of?”
Crime has lowered by 13% since Project Iron Mask began.
Good for the police, not so much him. Creed desired to kill, a thirst which he satiated with criminals. There was no sense of justice to it, they would simply be the least likely to be missed. Not even a mass murderer’s mother would weep for their lost son. Perhaps he could start working on building up the crime to keep things rolling, create livestock for the slaughter. Given that he could purchase almost any company on Tech Tech, it would be as simple as buying one out, keeping the useful employees and firing the rest without pay. Crime should be back up to normal numbers by then.
“Connect me to Rine”
Connecting…
“Is there something you need Andrew? I’ve got a lot of paperwork to do”
“Remind me to hire someone to deal with that, we’re going out to dinner tonight. I’ve got some ideas I want to run by you”
“It’s kind of hard to have a job when you just keep hiring people to do it for me”
“I know, you’re welcome. See you at 7:00”
Disconnecting…
Creed would exit the lift after about 2 minutes of traveling downwards. Though the wait was quite bothersome, it was worth it to keep his workshop hidden. Most scanner wouldn’t pick up an anomaly this far down and if they did, the crew would most likely just pass it off as a natural formation. The workshop was littered with various prototypes currently being retrofitted onto his armor. Creed would step into the center of the room and snap, causing various parts to levitate towards him and lock in place. The suit up would end with a large green cloak. No real technical use for it, Creed just liked how it looked. He would step over to a large cylindrical device meant to launch him back towards the surface. He had one for just about every Biodome on Tech Tech. “I’m feeling bored today, send me to Biodome 6. Maybe I can finally finish off those Atis Gang members”
Word Count: 535
@cress
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Post by Deleted on Dec 25, 2018 19:36:23 GMT -5
Even from Biodome #6, Cress could see the rubble of what used to be Biodome #7.
All around them the remains of that fateful battle scarred the planet beyond recognition. In truth, Tech Tech was on a steady downward spiral in terms of its environment. Acid rain constantly fell from the skies. Thick smog choked the lungs and stung the eyes. And there were more than a few black market dens for weapons and gear banned by the Empire -- or perhaps endorsed, depending on who you spoke with.
It was a nasty former shell of what could have been a beautiful, thriving planet.
Now it thrived in a different way. Cress couldn't care less about technology. Namekians lived in peaceful ignorance of such technologies, using only that which was absolutely essential. Cress owned his own Arcosian battle pod which allowed him to traverse the vast quadrants in search of his next job or tournament.
Even now, he stood with arms crossed behind the nervous purple-skinned xeno merchant who'd hired him for protection while visiting Biodome #6 as he sought to trade his wares. Greedy, beady-eyed merchants licked their chops as they called out to each passerby, attempting to draw attention to their wares. Shady hooded figures dashed to and fro, slinking in the shadows, peddling illegal goods and wares.
The worst part were the gangs which roved the area, extorting protection money from the vendors and intimidating locals and tourists alike.
It was nothing he couldn't handle, of course. Despite the stoic mask he wore, Cress's irritation grew with every rude bump into him by a passing patron. The sooner the merchant finished, the sooner Cress could collect his pay and leave this miserable little planet.
And yet he found not even himself immune to the allure of some of the gadgets being peddled. Perhaps he'd dedicate a portion of his pay toward perusing their wares before he left—
Something pricked at the edge of his consciousness.
Instinct took over as a large burly arm was thrust out at his side, stopping the gang member cold in his tracks. Without taking his eyes from his current employer, Cress addressed the two xenos who were making a beeline for the ostentatious merchant's ridiculously accessible money purse.
"Take a moment and consider your course of action. If you think your chances of getting past me and robbing my employer are good, go ahead and try it. But I will forced to eliminate you. Choose wisely."
Cress's rich baritone was just as intimidating at his large, hulking frame. It caught the attention of those milling about the plaza, including the purple-skinned xeno who spun around, all four eyes wide with shock and disbelief, and perhaps a bit of relief at having had the foresight to hire protection.
Not that he deserved protection. If it were left up to Cress, he'd let the lot of them slaughter themselves.
Tag: Andrew C. Creed // Word Count: 486 |
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Post by Andrew C. Creed on Dec 26, 2018 13:38:26 GMT -5
“Ha!” The mugger shouted, extremely amused at the Namekian’s threats. “You think you’re scary green bean? We’ll fuckin kill-”
Loud steps echoed throughout the alleyways as a metal clad figure turned the corner. This was the sound that many of the Tech Tech underworld heard before experiencing a quick and gruesome death. Creed had made himself quite the name around Biodome #6, it was one of the few places which had not sustained any significant decrease in criminal activity. It was a murderous haven for Creed. His Emerald eyes would scan over the group. Four men, three Xenos, one Namekian. It appeared to be a mugging. Too bad, he’d only get to kill two of them. One of the muggers turned around and tapped the other on the shoulder.
“Ey, we got that dumbass in metal again. Wasn’t that the twit that killed Almon?” The mugger would say, reaching into his jacket and pulling out some sort of advanced pistol. How quaint of him. “You deal with the slug and money purse, I’ll take care of this bitch”
Creed crossed his arms as the man walked up to him and brandished the weapon. He would place it up to Creed’s head. “You some kind of idiot?” Creed simply looked at him. The man shrugged his shoulders and pulled the trigger. The gun made a click before fizzing out and burning the man’s hand. Creed would catch the gun as the man threw it to save his hand. It would have CRCW-14 Written across the side, a fairly nice personal safety firearm developed by Creed Cybernetics. It wouldn’t of done any damage to him even if Creed hadn’t built in counter measures against his own weapons.
“I hope you can deal with the other one, Namekian. I wish to take my time with this one”
Creed would grab the man by his already blackened hand, his grasp causing the man’s hand to erupt into a squirt of purple blood. It would shout profanities at Creed as he edged his way closer to the Xeno. It attempted to crawl away, but that was to no avail. Two beams would burst from Creed’s eyes, severing it’s already injured arm in two seperate places. Creed would set a foot on the man’s chest and slowly began leaning forward. Crunching could be heard as Creed was almost face to face with the creature.
“I ended your friend’s life quickly. You won’t get the same kindness”
Creed would grasp the man by the shoulders and begin to pull up slowly. More cracking and crunching could be heard as the man flailed around, attempting to escape his inevitable death. Finally, with a sickening tearing sound, purple gore would splatter across the alleyway walls. Creed would examine the man as his miniscule power level slowly dropped to zero. Creed would release the disembodied lower half begin realigning his sights back to the Namekian and merchant. He cared little if they lived or died, but it would be interesting to see whether this namekian was as strong as the Sensors had showed him to be. If he was, he should have no issues dealing with the second mugger. Either way, he’d get a good show.
Word Count: 536/1071
@cress
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Post by Deleted on Dec 26, 2018 16:17:14 GMT -5
The burly, red-skinned xeno was turning blue. Fingers clawed and scraped for purchase to remove the hand crushing his throat, but Cress's grip did not weaken. His legs dangled helpless in the air, kicking and squirming where Cress held him in the air by the neck. "L-Let... me g-go..." His raspy words slipped weakly from his lips, and in a bid to escape, thrust an open palm in Cress's face. The surrounding crowds barely escaped the ensuing explosion. It leveled the surrounding booths in a cloud of dispersing orange energy, leaving a smoking crater roughly ten meters in diameter. As the smoke dissipated, thick plumes curling into the sky, it was revealed that the desperate act had little effect. Cress held the gangster at arm's length with ease, brushing dust from his shoulder in a casual manner. "It appears you've made your choice. You've been warned." In a split second, before the gangster could drop even an inch, Cress released his hold, clenching his fingers into a tight fist. His fist plowed into the xeno's sternum, packing enough punch to send a wave of kinetic force rippling out of the man's back. His eyes bulged from their sockets, gobs of spit and blood vacating his open mouth, every ounce of air forced from his lungs. He fell to the ground like a limp sack of flesh and didn't move. He wasn't dead, but he would not be moving any time soon. The purple-skinned xeno was stunned at his bodyguard's brutality and finesse. Without a word, he tossed a credit chit at Cress and took off running, dispersing with the waning crowd. Sirens blared in the distance as emergency droids rushed to the scene. This job was officially over. Collecting his pay, Cress walked away without another word. Until he found the metal man blocking his path. Try as he might, Cress could not sense an ounce of energy from him. Perhaps an android? He seemed human enough. "Stand aside. You're not one of these pathetic fools. I have no quarrel with you, unless you are possessed of the knowledge I seek." Crimson eyes bore into the android's glowing green orbs. "Are there any goods being peddled of a... mystic sort?" It was a long shot finding a powerful magical artifact on a tech-savvy planet such as this one. But it was worth a shot.
Tag: Andrew C. Creed // Word Count: 885 |
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Post by Andrew C. Creed on Dec 28, 2018 12:20:31 GMT -5
So, the Namekian did have some bite. Of course this was no real indicator of strength. A warrior of any above average power level could take down these thugs without any real issue. The only mistake that the Namekian did make was leaving the fool alive. Defeated foes ferment in their desires for revenge. Killing him would be safer and far more enjoyable. Creed would casually stroll up to the unconscious man before turning to face Cress. Mystical artifacts? How quaint. The Namekian still believed in magic. Creed would stomp down on the unconscious thug’s head, splattering a mess of bluish blood along the ground. “If you’re seeking ‘Mystical Artifacts’, try speaking with some of the locals here. Ever since the police force began avoiding the dome, they’ve started relying more on ‘magic’ and religion than technology. Peacekeeping drones only clean up around here” The blue blood would slowly begin to evaporate from Creed’s metallic boot. “Either their Gods stopped caring, or enjoy their suffering. Fitting consequence for believing such foolish fairytales I suppose”
Creed would begin tapping on his left forearm, causing a small holographic map of Tech Tech to appear. Various points would begin lighting up, all outside the Domes. “Though if you’re interested in a more tangible prospect, there's always venturing outside the Dome. My readings have shown a great deal of activity out there as of late. I haven’t gotten around to observing it yet”
Creed would look at the Namekian, scanning him once more. Power level of around 77,000. It was nearing the Power capacity of his suit. Maybe this Namekian could serve more useful than previously thought. “If you’re working for Zeni, I’ll be heading out there soon. You will be compensated well, but you’ll need to provide your respirator and perhaps a hazardous suit to prevent skin irritation. But those shouldn’t be too difficult to find”
Creed would tap a few more times on his forearm. “I’ve wired 10,000 Zeni to your account. You can expect that to be only a minor upfront payment. If you don’t wish to join me, then consider it payment for helping me to end those criminals” The armored man would slowly levitate into the ground, admiring his bloody handiwork before the Drones started their cleaning process. “I’ll know if you accept. I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
Word Count: 396/1467
@cress
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2018 1:10:35 GMT -5
Tech Tech was a strange place.
People seemed inundated with technology. Walking about with cybernetic limbs, probably a result of technological progression more than necessity. Or in the case of this stranger, a full set of cybernetic armor.
His lip curled in a sneer, his mouth twisting in disgust. Who could fight in such restrictive plating? Not to mention its weight. It did not seem viable for a true warrior, nor would such puny armor fit his great Namekian frame. But what he hated most about it was that he could not get a proper energy reading, though Cress couldn't tell if it was some dampening effect of the suit itself or even if there were an actual being inside of it.
It possessed a level of sentience that led Cress to believe it was the latter.
"Wait a sec." He floated up into the air, becoming level with the armored being. "Don't take me for a fool. There's nothing in this market that even remotely fits what I asked for."
A bitter taste filled his mouth as he observed the market below them. Such a stark contrast to the peaceful, rolling hills of his home world, away from that accursed trader's hub on New Namek.
He redirected his attention to the man before him. "I can't sense an ounce of ki from you. Yet I can tell that isn't standard battle armor you're donning. You built it with more than just your precious technology... perhaps much more than you care to admit to. Curse the gods and magic all you will, I couldn't care less. But the gods are real. Fate guided me here to your dying planet for one purpose."
Lavender aura danced along his skin as his innate mystical energies fused with his natural ki. It covered him in a protective barrier which worked to negate any negative effects the weather might have once they traveled abroad from the protective shell of the dome itself, and it would also allow him to breathe in the tepid atmosphere as normal.
An advanced technique, but hardly difficult for a Namekian trained in the Sage arts of his people.
"I want to see this so-called activity with my own eyes. Maybe this planet isn't a complete waste. Just understand one thing... I don't work for you. Lead the way."
tag: Andrew C. Creed // word count: 1,279
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Post by Andrew C. Creed on Dec 29, 2018 17:43:56 GMT -5
How innocent of the Namekian, assuming that this advanced technology had to be the work of magic. Perhaps the Namekian was more backwater than he had previously thought. Creed would stop and turn around to humor the sod.
“You can’t sense my Ki because I don’t want you to. Just because you cannot comprehend the technical mastery which is before you doesn’t be it’s magical” Creed would look over to the area of activity, scanning whilst the Namekian continued his rant about gods and magic. “Tech Tech is not a dying planet, it is already dead. The parasites which inhabited it were just too stubborn to leave it’s corpse behind, so they created Domes to protect them from the rancid fumes” His eyes would flash slightly as the scan completed. He would turn to face the Namekian. “Fate is just an excuse, along with gods and magic” He would press a few buttons on his left forearm. “Whilst we are on the topic of understanding, let me make one thing very clear, Cress” He would hold out his hand, causing a line of numbers to appear with "Cress" written above it. “If I pay you, you work for me. Disrespect me, and I can remove that generous gift I gave you before”
It had taken about 30 minutes to reach the nearest airlock outside. Well, one that they could use anonymously. Creed had bought a decent amount of these ports for private use. Sometimes escaping into the pollution was the best course of action, given that most would die of asphyxiation within minutes. Hell, even if they made it out alive they’d likely end up with permanent lung damage. It was no concern of Creed, nor his Namekian acquaintance it would seem. Creed would tap a few buttons along the Airlock wall before leaning in, causing the mask’s left eye to disengage for an eye scan. As the two entered, Creed would once more begin a scan of the area. There shouldn’t be any life outside, which meant this activity would be mechanical in origins… Still, something seemed quite strange about this whole ordeal. He didn’t know much about the Tech Tech’s history aside from the basic facts.
“Whatever this thing is, I doubt it’ll be safe. There could be some serious radiation emissions” He would look at the Namekian “I don’t know if your kind could handle that. Even with that Ki barrier of yours. In any case I’d advise caution and to avoid touching anything” The doors would slide open, causing a flood of crimson red air to flood in. Creed would enable a bright emerald light to help pierce through the smog. “Let’s go”
It would be a long trip to the spot, perhaps he should know more about this namekian before going any further. “So, Cress, tell me about yourself. If I’m going to have to trust you on this, I might as well know your home world in case I need to deliver your remains somewhere”
Word Count: 497/1960
@cress
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Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2018 10:45:47 GMT -5
"You sure ask a lot of questions."
Joining this stranger did not feel like a grand course of action. In truth, had he not been hired as a bodyguard, Cress would never have come to Tech Tech.
Some of his brethren were pleased with the hive of corruption known as Port Brief on New Namek. But Cress was not. Namek did not need technology, nor did it need new means of trade. Namek needed redeption. Namek needed protection.
His protection.
He did not answer any of Creed's questions, instead opting to weigh his options.
"On second thought..." He slowed, ending his flight. "I've changed my mind. But I'll keep the credits. Thanks."
With that Cress left, seeking passage off the planet. He missed his homeworld.
It was time to return to Namek.
Leaving the stranger known as Creed behind, Cress observed the ebb and flow of the city below him. Biodomes... how had such a thing become a necessity? How had mortals so corrupted the atmosphere of this planet? Namek was a living, breathing being in Cress's eyes. He could not imagine his home being in such disarray.
Namekians cared for their kind. And that included the planet.
The sooner he returned, the better.
tag: Andrew C. Creed // word count: 1,417
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