The Black Cherry || Blackport 66 's Night Club and Bar

[Devastator]

He pauses for a minute and scans the room for a large gaggle of girls (normaly where Sunny would be). Not seeing any he returns his attention to the bar. "Give me a Steamroller. Light on the beer and heavy on the rocks." He looks around again and sees a fairly drunk maiden sitting at the bar. "And whatever she is having." he concludes.

---

[nOmnomnOm]

@Jazzi @Devastator

The barman wiped with a towel some glasses as he nodded to Thallia. He chuckled a little and prepared a glass of her order. "No probs, sweetheart. Here." He slid her the Black Russian next to her and took some credits from the pile she put down. "And... the ladies are one of the perks." He smirks and winks.

He nods a 'hey' to the young man and slides another glass towards him and mixes the steamroller in front of him. "Here yeah go, lad. One Steamroller for yeah... and..." He gets another glass and pours another Black Russian. "Black Russian. She's a keeper." He laughs and winks. "Yeah guys let me know if you need anything else." He states as he walks off to cater to the other customers at the bar that have lined up.

[Devastator]

With out taking another look He downs the Steamroller in one go. Setting the glass on the table he takes the second drink in hand and moves toward the lady. "Thanks Frank." He says to the bar tender between the thumping of the bass. Turning his attention back to the lass. "So how were the races?" He asks much closer now and able to communicate through the bleeding mess of sound that permeated the club.

---

[Jazzi]

Thallia turned her head to look at the guy next to her, her expression revealing her surprise. "Hey, urm... ye... th...the races we're urm, pretty enjoyable. New to the r..race scene, was ur... quite intense." Her startled expression became a slight smile. "D...do you attend often... Mr...?"

---

---

C47 - Origins | C47 - Operational Database

---

[Yoshida]

The three Hackers followed Sunny in the VIP lounge and sat around the table. Unlike the previous time, this room didn't contain any windows which showed what was going on in the main hall, making Yoshida displeased with the outcome. He was always interested in watching some aspects of life he had never explored, such as night life. He didn't feel any urge but it was important for him and his analytic mind to monitor how common people entertained themselves.

After the drinks were served, the Provocateur kindly refused to drink the whiskey. However his two colleagues gulped a portion of the whiskey while occassionally watching the exotic entertainer dancing sensually a few meters away.

"That is the black heart of Sirius, the seat of the puppet government. We do recognize this planet, Mr Sunny."

Yoshida answered after Sunny asked him about Planet Manhattan.

---

"There are those who lack ambition. Who lack ability. But if you possess both then it is your role to reign over this world."

Ageira Dossier _•_ Hanáchi Syndicate _•_ Cultism _•_ Ascension _•_ Theosis

[nOmnomnOm]

Sunny chuckled and grinned widely at Yoshida's response. "Hehehe... very good." He leans forwards. "And what would you give... if you could stab this very heart?"

He stood up and went up to the table and moved his hand over to the hologram. "We have a beautiful relationship, Yoshida, if you have not noticed..." He turns the planet around as if it is a ball to play with and then walks towards the hackers and behind them. "You are the ones doing the dirty work... going in the face of these puppets and frightening them... making them feel uncomfortable... We are the smugglers... going behind the scenes and dropping thing off behind their backs...." The hologram shows a render next to the planet of Lane Hackers fighting and taking down targets while on the other side an Archangel smuggler is docking to the planet. "What would happen if we were to merge these traits?" He asks them as he is behind them now and puts a hand on the shoulder of Yoshida and another Hacker as he leans forward and looks at the hologram. The hologram's blue changes to a red tint.

"You see, Yoshida... I think we both feel we need a little extra cash in our pockets... and I believe you won't be able to resist such a challenge to make some cash... and do what the Lane Hackers do best... invoke fear..." He chuckles and moves back around them and sits back down on the couch as he takes a drink with him to sip. The holograms starts to zoom into the planet....

"So what would you say if you'd have the chance ... "

The hologram zooms into the capitol city of the planet and it's is centered around Interspace Incorporated Headquaters.

"... to leach them dry."

[Enkidu]

No, I don't drink. Yes, I drink sometimes, hey, look, funny face - I don't drink A.L.C.O.H.O.L. Okay, that's it, who do I have to frag to get a soda in this place? Hey, don't look at me like that, I'm not going to shoot you. Put the shotgun down, easy John Wayne. If I was going to shoot you you'd be dead already. Pow.

You notice a sudden ripple of silence in the otherwise effusive drunkards, dissolutes and revellers clustering up the bar, the sea of patrons parting like the Red Sea before a seven foot gleaming steel amazon of a Moses. This is going to be good.

You guys sell burgers? Sweet. Triple cheese, extra relish, double tomato, three patties, all the sauces, grill the chicken till it looks like a bombsight and get liberal with the onion rings. There better be no real meat in that maple bacon or I'm going to hell. Yeah, no spit in it either. You asshole, I'm a fracking transhuman death machine, I will spectroscope the crap out of that burger and if I find one particle of your DNA in it you can say auf Wiedersehen to your johnson, your family's johnsons, your sister's johnson and your dog's. Damn right you're going to apologise. Poser.

A profanely tattooed racer ejects himself from his before two thirds of a ton of plasteel and nanopolymer flop into his lap. The much-maligned stool buckles with protest, arcing like a bungee chord. You wonder if it's going to ping off and decapitate someone when she gets up.


I'm a hero of the frigging nomad war, damnit. I'm a regular Von Clausen, I save the universe for a frigging living, I get shot at by frigging libertonians cleaning up their scum problem without so much as a by-your-leave and nobody has the presence of mind to serve me some frigging tap water. I am a fricking walking hydraulic press with legs, and they sneer at me like I'm a dumbass because I won't drink alcohol like your average neo-fascist redneck gangbanger xeno tushwipe. Allah have mercy, I've got nanorobotic filters for lungs and I still got a cold in this place. She grimaces, aggressively sniffling.

This is going to be good.

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

Information | Recruitment | Message Dump |
Feedback | Diplomatic channel

(Links pending redevelopment).

[Shizune]

Purged

[Yoshida]

The two colleagues of Yoshida uncomfortably turned their heads and warily monitored Sunny's moves when the latter touched the Provocateur on his shoulders. However Yoshida did not shift his gaze, his eyes and attention focusing on the hologram of the table.

"A high-profile stunt is something which we cherish the most. However if you think that I am going to waste valuable Hacker operatives as a distraction for your Club members, I think you..."

Then the hologram projected the planetary headquarters of Interspace Commerce followed by the vocal repeat by the AFC President.

"... What do you have in mind, Mr Sunny?"

---

"There are those who lack ambition. Who lack ability. But if you possess both then it is your role to reign over this world."

Ageira Dossier _•_ Hanáchi Syndicate _•_ Cultism _•_ Ascension _•_ Theosis

[Enkidu]

Now, that... is what I call a burger. Okay turkey neck, you're off the hook. Guys, It's okay to sit near me, geesh. I don't kill when I'm eating. Apart from that greasy little Kusarian script kiddie nerd in the corner chatting to Sunny there's nobody in here I particularly want to pop. Mohammed's sake, sit down. Calm your bloody tits.

The assorted mix of intercept pilots, freelancers, fighter enthusiasts and mercenaries that had leapt out around her tentatively filtered their way back to the bar. Within a minute, the Cherry was as noisy as it had been, interspaced by the occasional wolf crunches of bread and flesh as Khan burped her way through the largest sandwich she'd enjoyed since the Liberty Navy made manhattan a not-particularly-choice landing site. It was probably five kilos in mass.


Mmh. This crap is orgasmic, yo. Hey, um, you there! Nesrin gestured in the general direction of everywhere, nearly swatting a tattoo artist through a porthole. Obviously Blood Dragon girl. Yeah, the one by the bouncer. You. Get off that crappy, lonely beer-stained seat and get yourself on this one like a champ. She slapped the padding of the stool next to her, digging a handprint the size of a white bear's paw. It looked like she had clawed it. Sit. I'll by you a drink since I can't swig it myself.

---

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

Information | Recruitment | Message Dump |
Feedback | Diplomatic channel

(Links pending redevelopment).