Liberty or Death Between Missions

Sparkler's impassioned request met eager nodding as Lou stood up, startling Isaac who ran out to look at the crates they had been using for cover. "Lou can do it, sneaky-sneaky!" She lifted herself up onto the large box with her arms, doing a handstand for a brief moment before collapsing in a controlled manner, landing on her back with her arms and legs hanging over the edges. She remained immobile, seemingly dead to the world. The short Welsh Corgi looked up at her with an impatient-sounding whine, and then glanced back at Sparkler, seemingly expecting something.

Meanwhile Lou slipped back into that world of ever-shifting data and reached out with her mind to that hovering node that threatened the warehouse.

Sure enough, after twenty seconds of comatose inactivity, Lou twitched once, and then slid off the crate into an impromptu headstand, her calves still resting on the top of the box. She grinned broadly, obviously pleased with herself. "Ooooh, the people in the air aren't happy with you!" Her eyes were squinted closed as she she snickered impishly, but it was pretty clear she was addressing Sparkler... probably. "The voices say you're messy; so much messy, so much voices." For some reason her tone shifted from jokingly reproachful to a more wistful one. "But don't worry, they gonna clean up for you. Have people coming right now."

That message delivered, she carefully got to her feet, much more formal than her usual carefree self. "Lou will help clean. Lou good at clean, Lou clean machine, clean clean cleany clean..." she announced in that pseudo-musical timbre of hers as she walked toward the door, brushing her hands together in front of her to get the dust off.

In that brief spat of twenty seconds, what could best be described as a 'perimeter' had been setup. Knight Errant in full SpecOps garb begin setting up illumination around the scene, casting the entire grisly area in a composite of harsh white lights and paled chunks of former-gangers. The entire squad is as professional as they come, never once getting distracted from their new duty; Securing the area for the BodyWagons to roll in.

The VTOL, having disgorged both its payload and the emergency CS equipment, begins to rise higher in the air. Harsh illumination stabs down as it begins to circle out along the neighborhood, looking for a few living participants to 'question'. This particular division of the Knight Errant can handle itself for a few minutes, each of them bearing the veteran stripes of a member of the Black Line.

In the distance, sirens wail as they close in on the local area...

In the darkness of the house, Gretel frowns. She is going to be late. Delicate hands take out the commlink, typing out a quick message to Rock.

<PAN Mode> Hidden </PAN Mode>
<To> Rock </To>
<Message>
Dear Rock,

A bunch of those Knight Errant people came and interrupted my fun! Now they're all in front of the warehouse and I can't get through without doing things you don't like me doing. Will you tell them I will be late?

<3
Gretel
</Message>

The message sent, Gretel creeps up to a boarded up second-story window, peeping through the boards to try to see what is happening outside.

Sparkler grimaces and lets out a few more choice expletives. "Well... we didn't have anything to do with that massacre over there, so they've got no reason to come investigate us. We just hold tight until they leave."

With that, he goes over and sits down in one of the ratty chairs next to the scavenged card table that served them for meals. Slipping his pistol back into its holster, he pulls the matches out of his pocket and sets them near the middle of the table. Then he leans back, seemingly content to sit tight until the law-types have stopped their bothersome visit and gone home.

Seeing Lou heading for the door, announcing her intention to help clean up, he sits up again, and says "No, Lou... stay in here. If you go out there to help clean, they'll probably assume that you're part of what needs to get cleaned up. We wouldn't want you to go away to jail, would we?"

Bishop glances at Sparkler. “Best thing we can do right now is just that. I’d be more at ease if there was a button somewhere that basically makes this place seem more abandoned.” Bishop reached into his pocket, pulled out a flask and drank from it. Most would think he keeps sythahol in there. It isn’t so. His girlfriend, a nun of the same Church that started bishops criminal career, long since made him cut down his drinking unless she herself offers the drink. Since then he’s been hooked on orange soda.

“Lou if you end up going out there you might not see my dog, Jody, and I know she wants to see you!” He smiled with a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Lou doesn't so much stop as she does just turn around 180 degrees and keep walking in the other direction, not missing a beat. "Lou doesn't go to jail, Lou passes Go... snake eyes!" She then ran off, darting away from Bishop with her hands placed on her face like fake goggles... apparently forgetting that she had real goggles on her forehead. "Lou doesn't need to be cleaned, Lou doesn't shoot people with guns, bang bang!" She paused, and then grabbed her chest, eyes wide. After a few seconds of humorously dramatic poses, she fell over, arms and legs flopping to the ground and tongue sticking out, pantomiming a dead person.

Oklahoma has always had turbulent air patterns, long before the world Awoke. What could be bright blue skies in one minute would be spitting off twisting tornadoes ten minutes later, tearing apart the landscape. Ice storms blow across like mist on a lake, here one moment, warm the next. This was long before the very air itself could become sentient - and angry.

What had been a ripping torrent quickly spent its fury, degrading into a light drizzle before the clouds push off the practice field and onto other places to get their real weather war started. An hour passes while the Knight Errant clean up the mess; With all that force in show, there is no choice but to do everything by the book. The shadows of this under privileged area slink away beneath the harsh glare of patrol cars and body wagons, the VTOL having long ago departed back to the Hot Box. At last, however, the cops disperse, leaving behind only the faint signal of RFID tags to mark where the bodies had been.

An hour later, the news reports begin chattering..

...thirty degrees celcius at the high, twenty four at the low. Current conditions are partly cloudy, winds at twenty one miles per hour. Humidity is at seventy percent. There's an allergen warning out for mold pollen, which is considered abnormably high. A health advisory has been released by the Tulsa EPM, with an air quality index of two hundred and fifty - considered adverse for those without breathing complications, and serious to those with. You can view the full report HERE"

"So keep those air filters on while you go to work today, folks!" A couple of pronounced 'ha ha's follow, before the report gets on to more 'somber' business. "Today marks the fifth anniversary of the sabotage of the Houston Power Plant. A benefit is being held for the firms who lost their investment in the destruction of the facility. There was some small controversy when survivors attempted to RSVP and were denied; For obvious reasons, they aren't considered victims. They survived. The 'For The Future Of Tulsa' bond, measure F, has been extended for another year to help the firm involved recover and maintain its presence in Tulsa, thus providing jobs for thousands of local Tulsans. A small tax increase is expected, but according to Mayor Dewett, is well worth it for the stability provided to the citizens of Tulsa. View the full report HERE"

"The verdict is in! Lethal injection for a man accused of trying to break into New Tulsa by tunneling beneath the southern wall. New Tulsa Liason released the statement, but refused to give a more definite timeline outside of two weeks to allow NTS forces to conduct a full investigation. The accused's name has not been released; As per standard practice, the SIN will be released once the execution has taken place. Protestors once more lined up outside the main roadway, picketing to the side of the road in outrage at what they call 'New Tulsa's Extra Territorality'. Mayor Dewett and the Tulsa City Council expressed their dismay that any citizen could not understand the benevolence behind the original creation of New Tulsa, built through the public fund trust. 'It's a shining beacon of hope for all citizens', stated Mayor Dewett, 'The hope for a better life, and the great Tulsa dream of opportunity.' View the full report HERE"

"Leading the vote for the council seat once held by former Councilor Lawton, Jezebel Roberts has assured her constintuency in the Rapture Party that she will uphold the observances of her ancestor, Oral Roberts, in bringing religion back to a godless government. Despite rumors of vote tampering, Roberts released the following statement today: 'The people of Tulsa have spoken! Too long have we lived beneath the tyrannical thumb of heathens, atheists, and magicians. With God's glory pushing me forth, I will take my rightful place on the council, and bring the Glory of the Lord back into Tulsa by any means necessary. I have no fear of the cowardly whispers that certain people have tried to slander me with; If there was any merit in these claims, then let those people step forth and into the light of inquisition! The Truth will be shown!'. View the full story HERE"

"Finally, a new story from near the Kellyville quadrant! The newly installed Chief of Knight Errant security, Richard Thump, released footage today of a massive gang fight. This only days after the final Tulsa Police Center was shut down, and the final personnel moved under Knight Errant control as per the city's contract with Ares."

Video plays, showing gangers through grainy security footage as they rush towards and unknown location. The screen switches to show close-ups of Gangers being torn apart by vicious gun fire, the high whine of an actual minigun heard along with the roaring of a bike engine. The video then flips to a police camera on a VTOL, showing bodies rent asunder and dead gangers everywhere. Blood litters the ground, swirling through heavy, bruised waters. Any 'exposed' bits are censored, because showing a guy's guts is okay, but showing his naughty parts isn't. The video switches to a large, burly man with a classic lantern jaw and burred hair.

"It's become obvious that the Tulsa Police Department was not only incompetent when it came to keeping the citizenry safe, but that the gangs and lawless vermin that infest the lower community have become far too bold. Thirty two arrests were made from the remains of the riot you see before you, and we currently have several witnesses in testimony. None the less, it's become apparent that stricter steps must be had if we are to protect you, the citizens of Tulsa, from this scum. I've presented a bill to the Council and the Mayor outlining precisely the steps needed to make Tulsa a good, prosperous place for families to grow once more."

Back to the reporters. "Mayor Dewett was more than pleased to begin deliberation on the bill with the Council, which includes heavier armament for Knight Errant to deploy against criminals, as well as an reduction of night-time privileges for all citizens for their own protection. This includes mandatory curfew, leaving only the problem elements on the streets at night for the new 'War on Crime'. While this includes a hike in taxes, Mayor Dewett assures all Tulsa citizens that its in the best interests of our children, our security and of our future together in this wonderful city. Full story can be viewed HERE"

"The healthbill, aka 7456-UB, up for consideration has been struck down, the Council releasing a statement. The essence of which was, due to ethical considerations, they could not pass a measure which taxed citizens to pay for universal DocWagon contracts for those of lesser means, or non-taxpayers. The full statement can be viewed HERE. The disappearances around the old Houston Power plant residential neighborhood, better known as the Racks, has gone up once more as three TU students went missing..."

Dakka Johnny had never been the smartest man in the choke; Not by a long shot. He was dull witted, but made up for it with a cunning sort of cruelty resident in all secondary minions. None the less, even he could get it through his thick head that he was in serious trouble as he was marched between the rows of old machine presses; Some of them red with rust. Some brown with a far more organic fluid, which caused Dakka to lick his lips nervously. He glanced over as he finally made his way to the back, past his fellow Johnnies; They weren't a gang so much as an army without a nation, given purpose and direction by having absolutely none of either. He finally passed the inner circle of guards, most of those having stopped being totally human a while ago. For a street gang, the Johnnies were surprisingly tolerant of species; All they required was fealty, the red bandanna, and the name.

Oh yes. And being absolutely loyal to the king of the Johnnies, who set upon his makeshift throne of broken cars and busted up newspaper presses, rolling a can about his fingers. He wears nothing but dirty white long-johns and an old top hat, but no one could mistake him for just another member of the Johnnies; His eyes held power. A strange, vibrant crazy that shook the world around him, dulled it to colorlessness and made him the center of it for just a few moments. He smiles pleasantly as a pale faced Dakka is pushed out front.

"Well, welly, welly, welly, welly, well..." Began Just Johnny, sitting up straighter. "To what do I owe the exteme rarity of this pleasant visit? Success, yes, a soothing tale of a little ultraviolence to secure my skirts along Kelly's Lane?"

Dakka was nudged by one of the Big Johnnies, and - hesitantly - began his story. A story of a fight gone bad, of a little girl with a demon's smile who came out of the darkness with a rattle of thunder and death. And as he spoke, Just Johnny's smile lingered, limped, and faded away into impatience. At last, he looked bored, and waved a hand once - Dakka breathed a sigh of relief, and backed away. Just Johnny reached up with a hand, quietly rubbing at a temple in pantomime of some forming migraine.

"Viddy well, viddy well, little brother. We've got a Jez in our midst with a taste for a wee slashy and hacky, does she? A pretty dollie with a noose as a string, hmm? BOYS." Just Johnny straightens up, the sudden silence thick enough for the sharp crack of his cane to be heard as it rapped upon the throne. "I've a mind for a bit of rough play, hmm? A little kicks, a few laughs, and some blooded in-and-out on a wicked, white whore strapped to the floor. Fetchie, fetchie, my darlings!" He straightens up, and smiles; A smile that had nothing to do with human emotion, and all to do with a crocodile freeing up its teeth.

"Go."

At his word, Johnnies in back begin to pour out into the street, bikes and cars roaring, feet pounding.

Tap tap tap.

A little girl raps on the door to the warehouse, gently illuminated by the streetlamp. Her clothes have dried by now, though a few dark flecks of dried blood remain on the dress, hidden by the black fabric. She leans forward, resting her weight on the cello case, humming the strains of an old lullaby.

She stretches, waiting for someone to answer the door as her earbud rattled off the news to her, her eyes looking up at the softly glowing moon.
Her slender, pointed ears perk up. She quickly brings up the commlink's video, her smile broad with glee.

"I'm on the news!"