Seoul - United Nations Plaza

 

     It is here that most of the world's decisions are made. The kind of power here reflects in the architecture, with the HUGE UN building that holds the General Assembly. Blue and dome shaped in design, it is the only one in the world of its kind, and workplace to the thousands that work here. The perimeter of the General Assembly building is surrounded the flags of every country that has a seat, which is nearly everyone. Outside are a number of other large office buildings, ranging from delegate bureau's, to the Headquarters of the UN Police, to a Repliforce office. Constantly patrolled and guarded by UN Police, safety is among an utmost concern after the infamous April Fools Day Massacre. Despite that, the place is a very safe environment.

 

Shadaro [Thieving] [C]                 Edward Hampton [Armored] [I]

Bluecoat T-Rex [I]                     Javelin Whitetail [Green_dress] [C]

Hardhat Area                           Large Hover-Truck

United Nations Vehicle Garages <UNVG>  Press Stand

 

 

<UN> leads to United Nations Building.

East <E> leads to Seoul - Northern Commercial District.

West <W> leads to Seoul - Tourist District.

South <S> leads to Seoul - Historical District.

North <N> leads to Seoul - Eastern Residential District.

 

============================ Players in your Area ============================

Name                Alias   Siz Idl Short Description

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chest               GNN     3    0s Chess piece. Blue. 4' tall. One leg.

Bluecoat T-Rex      Bowser  8   21s 15' Blue and Grey T-Rex Cop

Edward Hampton      Ed      3   47s Male Caucasian, 6'2", black hair, medium

Javelin Whitetail   deer    2   19s You see a DEER. Command?

Shadaro             Lupin   3   31s Not Lupin, Garret, Or Robin Hood.

========================== Fri Oct 08 21:06:55 2004 ==========================

 

        So there it is. The UN plaza. The main building is still a pile of rubble surrounded by a hardhat area; but the square itself is clear, to allow daily business to go on as normally as it can function. There's not much difference; a small group of reporters--from either Irish-based news sources or musically-affiliated ones--are hanging about, waiting for news upon Javelin. Which they probably won't get. Other than that--it's nearing nighttime, and pretty much business as usual. And off in the distance...

        SOMETHING HORRIBLE IS COMING.

        But nobody knows what it is yet.

 

        Stomp Stomp Stomp...Bluecoat is keeping the peace, 'herding' the reporters so they don't get out of hand...sure, they asked him questions, especially considering what happened, but he keeps tight-lipped like any other Interpol official.

 

Yamato Man arrives from the Tourist District.

Yamato Man has arrived.

 

As the night-time slowly begins to draw it's chilling curtain upon the city of Seoul, a man perfectly suited for such a realm stands his ground, crouched atop the ridge of a nearby building. He's not quite sure what he's doing here, since a few moments ago he was headed to Britain to theft away a valuable ceremonial sword that belonged in Africa, but now he's in Seoul. A small monocular 'pirate-esque' telescope is placed gently around his eye as he surveys the men, women, and its below.

 

"One and a half /Zenny?! For a HOTDOG?!" comes the outraged shout. "That's indefensible! Inexcusable! Insulting!" Chest points an accusing finger at the poor street hotdog vendor and declares, "Extortion is what it is! I ought to report you to the Better Business Bureau for this horrible practice!" The vendor stares, shocked at the reply. "But-" Chest throws his hands up into the air and shakes his head, interrupting, "In my day, a hotdog cost half a Zenny and not a penny more! And we'd WORK for that half Zenny, too! You should be ashamed of yourself." "Sir-" "And all the while, here you are praying on poor journalists out here in the field trying to do their job, just wishing for a little something in their processors to keep them on their feet." "It's a good pr-"

        But Chest has already turned away, "Just terrible..." he's muttering, clearly disgusted. The vendor sighs and says, "Fine... geezus... I'll throw in a 25 cent soda if it'll shut you up." Chest whirls about and pays the man his one and a half Zenny. "Good deal," he says, smiling. The GNN Billionaire, having now saved himself a quarter, hovers back towards the crowd of reporters with his recently conquered hotdog and soda.

 

        It starts.

        Off in the distance--it blends in with the background noise of vehicles and people talking and generators humming. But then it becomes a seperate, distinct voice--horrible, horrific howling, of the worst degree--chilling to the bone. And with it--the scraping of metal on the ground, horribly screeching against pavement; a slow tempo at first. Then faster. And closer. And heavy thumping--of feet making contact with ground in a headlong run.

        People begin shrieking and yelling in hoarse surprise just outside the square. Those inside whip their heads around with sudden fear, looking for the percieved threat that has not yet arrived.

        IT'S COMING.

 

There is a man. A man of mystery. A man of suspense. A man with a mission.

A man... In a box. A cardboard box of reasonable size shifts behind the hot dog vendor, scooting over to one side as the vendor is ranted at by Chest. As the vendor inevitably turns away, grumbling about crazy customers (They all do, you know. They all talk behind your back about how crazy you are.), the box makes its move, one end lifting slightly to extrude a small prehensile cable, which slithers up the side of the cart quietly.

The cacaphony only helps, thankfully, as it keeps the vendor distracted while the cable pulls back, looped around a hot dog with the works. Said cable disappears, and the box begins scooting away again... Just to sit still as the vendor looks back. "Huh?"

The box remains perfectly still.

The vendor shrugs, and looks back over to the howling. The box begins scooting away, then, a satisfied munching faintly audbile as it slides over towards the disturbence, trying to find a good vantage point.

 

Chest pauses at the crowd of reporters, munching on his hotdog after passing perilously close to the man in the moving box. Hopefully he didn't miss anything. Being shorter than everyone, Chest has to crane his neck in order to see anything. But wait? What's that sound? Off in the distance? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? I... don't know what it is. Chest frowns, hearing the loud thumping as it approaches. The GNN boss snaps his fingers at his personal drone, Camera. The drone beeps, ready in case whatever this is turns into important news. Unlikely, but hey. You never know, right? "What in tarnation's got everyone's so jumpy?" he mutters, even though it's pretty obvious by now.

 

        Bluecoat notices the disturbance going on. He quickly takes out his giant-sized pistol and growls, waiting for whatever is coming to come. "Everyone, evacuate the area...get to safety..." he calls out, loudly and gruffly. His tail swishes and thumps on the concrete.

 

        People are diving out of the way now. The hot-dog vendor is enthusiastically shoved aside, spilling some food onto the ground to be trampled underfoot--hopefully the box is missed in the melee. Shoving down the main street into the plaza is what looks to be a fiery thunderbolt tinged with gold, red, and black; howling horrendously, it lands in the middle of the plaza like a comet, flames shooting nigh-on everywhere and setting things afire. People flee from it; some hiding behind Bluecoat, others to buildings, and many more shoving each other around and failing to escape because of all the shoving. The fiery blast dies down all of a sudden, and it calls out in a horrible, echoing howl--

        "BUWNTODAGWOUND!"

        The mini-hyenard, after a brief pause, flares slightly, and trots over to the quickly-catching-fire hotdog stand. And shoves its muzzle into a pile of meat and buns that fell on the ground, chewing happily.

 

While he doesn't exactly wince at the screeches, the scrapes, the screams, the yells... Lawrence /does/ store away his binoculars. "Won't be needing these for somethin' making enough noise to wake the entire Morsa castle..." He grabs off the exquisitely carved bow from his back, and reaches for an electric arrow... When the stench of hot dogs reaches his perceptive nose.

As if in a trance, Lawrence puts away the weapon, and grabs the old fashioned throw-and-catch grappling hook. Sticking the blade into the edge of the roof, Shadaro kicks it in firmly, and jumps off, sliding down the building. Touching down, he works up the rope, and sets the hook on his side. Shadaro makes his way towards the hot dog vendor, and he doesn't even care about the noise for some strange reason.

 

Being a thief of honor, there's only one way to look at the situation. The dogs are cheap, /extremely/ cheap, and he has access to one of the largest fortunes in the world. Stealing this would just be petty, so Shadaro dishes out the three Zenny to the trembling vendor. "Biggest dog you've got." Shaking about with the jitters, the vendor reluctantly pulls up a big, fat, steamy dog. "Ooooh yeah. That's the one." And places it on the bun, handing it over to Shadaro and fleeing for his life. "A little ketchup... *squirt* Some Mustard... *squirt* Some relish, mayonnaise, a bit of vinegar for good measure, some chopped up pickle, some brussel sprouts, some more mayonnaise, and..." He plops a cherry atop the mound of condiments. "A cherry, just for the effect."

 

Shadaro peers over to the crash-site, then to his dog... "Food first."

 

Yamato Man had been trying to get away from all the hustle and bustle of the other Wily Bots, but it seemed that this place was just as noisy. He wore a simple yukata and a large straw hat in place of his armor. He watched the mini-Hyenard from the edge of the crowd with a look of disgust.

 

        Bluecoat just stares, in a 'W.T.F.' manner. Yes, with periods. We walks over the the 'Mini-Hyenard' and picks it up with one hand. "Damn dog..." he mutters. He forgets the flaming hotness it can pack, however.

 

Chest can't help but smile as he hears one of Interpol's goons start ordering everyone to safety. "I don't think so," Chest mutters to himself. "Not until I get a good look at what's comin' our way." So while other reporters might respond to Bluecoat's order in the logical manner, Chest remains where he is with his faithful Camera.

        And when the thunderball comes, Chest's optics go wide, hovering back a few feet as if that'll help against this blazing missile. But then, the threat reveals itself as.... "A stupid copy of the stupid hyena?!" Chest says, aghast. Chest peers at the poor hotdog stand, and then at his own dog. "Looks like I bought at just the right time."

 

ScootscootSTOP.

The Boxninja halts as Chest approaches... Waiting... Waiting... Munchmunch.. Mmmm... Hotdog.

And then the Mini-Hyenard appears. Thankfully, yhe crazed mass melee obscures the box, and the cardboard cloaking device is cast aside in the confusion, revealing... Edward Hampton, crazed Boxninja and One Man Drain on Interpol's Health Insurance. With Amazing Hot-Dog Action! Edward strolls over next to Chest and munches on his own hotdog before replying (after swallowing, what do you think he is, a barbarian?) "Timing is everything, it appears. Looks like Bluecoat has things well in hand, at least."

 

        The mini-hyenard--which, if Bluecoat has eyes fast enough to read the collar, seems to go by the name of Con Brio--does indeed pack a mean punch. It's rather happily munching at the dirty pile of food on the ground when Bluecoat grabs it; with a sharp bark, it flares its jets again, burning like a firebrand and wiggling away from his grasp. It lands on the ground with a solid THUNK--which does nothing to improve its appearance. Is that KELP hanging off of it? And a couple toes are missing; one ear is bent over. In fact, it's pretty surprising that the mini-hyenard is still on its feet. What the heck happened to this thing, /itself/?

        It spins around in the dirt, wagging a stubby little hyenard-tail at Bluecoat, and its jaw sags open in a friendly-but-not-really grin. And, nose twitching, it looks up at him with hope in those dim little eyes.

        "WANNAFINDMAMA!"

 

Chest doesn't see the scooting box ninja, as he's focused on the /other/ twit. No no, not /that/ twit. The twit aside from that twit. Look... I'll narrow it down some more. The mini-Flame Hyenard. Chest grunts and nods to Edward, not even taking his eyes off the bizarre scene at the hotdog stand. "Yeah, I suppose so. This isn't exactly a crisis of epic proportions, I don't think. Even /Interpol/ can handle this." Chest takes another big bite of his dog and a sip of his (free!) soda. As the mini fights against Bluecoat, Chest shakes his head, "But I could be wrong."

 

        Blue says the most intelligent thing he can think of: "Buh?" he scratches his head. He puts the gun away, too. "Well, uh, who's your momma?" he asks it. He forgot Jav had one, only having heard it on radio once...

 

Edward Hampton shrugs, not expecting Chest to look. Hell, he's not looking at Chest either. "Well, it depends. Bluecoat could just step on it and end it that way, but I'm sure whoever its 'mama' is would get pissed off. So the question is, who's the mama, and how does he get the thing to her?" He chuckles slightly sardonically. "Today's world-shattering crisis, indeed."

 

Chest snickers in between a sip of his soda. "Another ethical call for the mighty Interpol: Save the kid or save us all a headache?" Chest shakes his head and continues to watch the show. "Suddenly I'm getting the image of the thing inside an Interpol interrogation room while Cops try and squeeze out information regarding its background from it." Camera, meanwhile, shuts down its systems. This ain't breaking news.

 

Hey, he's foreign, and he's part French, part Canadian. Shadaro could put every possibly condiment on any hot dog and still love it to death. Taking one big bite: *MUNCH* Half the entire dog is gone. A full minute later, ignoring the hustle and bustle, another bite, and the dog is gone. Wiping off the corners of his mouth with a silk napkin, Lawrence turns to look over at the center of attention. "Hmmm... This isn't good." His hood suddenly bulges up as a box turtle pokes it's head out, and meeps right before Shadaro gently presses it, saying, "Get down."

 

Reaching for the bow on his back once more, Shadaro pulls out a water arrow, and notches it into place. He pulls back on the tightly wound string, and aims for the neck of the beast. The small micromachines within the globule of water should hopefully slow down some systems, but there's only one way to tell... *twang*

 

Con Brio blinks at Bluecoat.

        "WANNAFINDMAMA!"

        Reply hazy. Ask again later.

        Twitching, then, it promptly darts off in a firely blast--that sucker is FAST. It's only a foot tall, and wiggly--but it's constantly spouting flame, and now it's running around the perimiter of the square--notably, by Chest and Edward. OHNOES! HERE IT COMES!

        "BUUUUUUUUUWN!"

        Oh, and that water blast? Well, the minihyenard WAS right by Bluecoat...so who knows how true Shadaro's aim is after it darts off...

 

        Bluecoat is about to have it run off when he gets in the way of the arrow....and it strikes him right in his dinosaur butt! "OW!" he roars.

 

Looking up from his bow momentarily, Shadaro's eyes go wide right before he facepalms. "Oh bloody hell..." Grabbing a different arrow off from his quiver, an electrical arrow made to short circuit any robotic functions, Shadaro looks at the large Bluecoat... And takes a biiiiig step to the side. Don't want that thing falling down atop him. "Now stand still..." He mutters to himself, as if it's going to help.

 

Yamato only brings his hat down lower and fades back into the crowd, hoping that he can go unnoticed for a while longer.

 

Chest takes another sip and nudges his drone. "Make sure you're getting all this. We haven't had nearly enough in the way of bloopers recently." Sip, sip. Munch, munch. Chest finishes his hotdog and soda. He's perfectly content to let others make fools of themselves over this mini-robot.

 

        Well, Blue is temporarily stunned from the waist down, so he falls. He turns his head and growls at the guy who fired the arrow. "HEY! Be more careful with those weapons!" After a moment his systems recover and he stands again. He watches the dog run around. "Aw..." he sees Camera near Chest, and figures out he's being taped. "Aw!" he exclaims. He moves towards the dog..

 

Chest *would* be cool with letting everyone else worry about it. BUT NO THAT WON'T DO WILL IT JAVELIN THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Meal finished, Chest is about to laugh at the plight of the poor Interpoller when suddenly the thing leaps for him. "Oh crap. No you don't!" Chest shouts at it. The GNN head honcho throws his hands up, trying to shield himself. "Camera! Halp!" he shouts as the mini-freak approaches him. The drone merely backs off, more than happy to let his master take the fall.

 

Edward Hampton arches an eyebrow at the incoming Mini-Hyena. "Fun." Instead of standing there and taking the incoming bulletlike Mini-Hyenard like a man, he casually comments to Chest, "That's an amusing image, there. Could you take a couple steps to the side, please? We seem to have incoming." As Edward comments, he pulls out a strong cord and wraps the other half of his hotdog in it, then dangles it at arm's reach in a direction meant to put it moving back towards Bluecoat.

 

Chest takes more than just a couple steps to the side, believe me. Camera seems annoyed that someone is going to save Chest. Ah well.

 

Edward Hampton says, "Heeeere puppy. See the hot dog? Come and get the hot dog..."

 

        Even as it runs about, setting things on fire and generally having a good time, a little idea is forming in the back of Con Brio's mind (besides that mmm, that hotdog looks good). A good thing it's a little idea, because it's a small mind he's got. But running in a wide circle around the UN Plaza, he's picked up the scent of 'mama' again--and also, he has vague recollection of radio conversation. And a lingering scent left over from a night spent on Eurasia. Somehow, the giant T-Rex is connected to the vague idea of 'mama' (And that hotdog smells good).

        But of course, that doesn't stop him from setting things on fire. People jump out of the way--and unless Chest moves in time, the little hyena runs RIGHT OVER HIS FOOT as it goes by in a crimson-and-gold orbit around the plaza centre. Sparks fly off of it, soaring in all directions as it spirals inwards towards Bluecoat again.

        (Did you know that straw is highly flammable?)

        Tiny little legs arching, the minihyenard makes a leap straight for Bluecoat's chest. It looks...well, KIND of friendly...really...with its jaws open like that, and its tongue hanging out, it's hard to tell why it's smiling...

        "BUUUUUUUWNYOUKNOWMAMA!"

 

Taking in the current path of the beast, which is straight for Chest, Shadaro takes a deep breath and holds it. Suddenly, Chest moves to the side, and Lawrence strafes right to Chest's place. Blinks once, and steps /out/ of Chest's past spot. "Bloody dog..." He flips the arrow back into his quiver, the bow into it's resting spot, and looks about for some way to stop this thing. The rope on his grappling hook'll just burn up, and he doesn't have many other ways used for fire dogs.

 

Through the power of sheer desperation and the help of Shadaro getting in the way, Chest manages to escape the rabid machine with only getting his foot mildly singed. "Ow!" he says. He peers down as a tiny bit of smoke rises from his hoverpad. "Well there goes my chassis polish!" he shouts at the bastard child of Javelin Whitetail and Flame Hyenard. "For cryin' out loud..." Chest flips open a cell phone and calls up the fire department. ONLY AQUA MAN CAN SAVE US NOW!

 

"....roargh?" Blue makes a quizzically t-rex noise as he catches the dog in his arms. "I do?" he says.

 

Edward Hampton sighs, and plucks his Hyenard-bait back out of the loop, before poking at his wristwatch. From one side, the recently-rebuilt hoverbike that Edward used in the Battle and Chase races hovers over to him from Someplace Else. He opens the back compartment, and pulls out a hand-sized fire extinguisher, with which he begins dousing minor flames... And he was about to call the fire department too, but Chest appears to have beaten him to it. "I'm sure whoever 'mama' is can always arrange to get you repolished." No sense in letting the area around him get left a burning wreck, right?

 

        T-Rex, meet minihyenard. It stares at him for a moment out of baleful golden eyes. Then...

        *LICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICKLICK*

        Well, at least THAT doesn't burn.

        Imprinted on the green and white collar Con Brio wears is a strange symbol--which, unless you know how to conduct a 4/4 pattern, looks just like a couple of loops. But perhaps Bluecoat recognizes it as the same pattern that Javelin was wearing on her necklace the other night.

        The mutt cocks one bent gold-plated ear, tail-wagging. "FINDMAMA?"

        Aww, how ADORABLE! Right? Right?

        In the background, a certain vendor begins moaning the loss of his hotdog stand, at least until he accidentally gets some foam on him.

 

Chest snorts and pauses in his call to reply, "'Mama' darn well better. That's two fifty Zenny on bulk polish that I'll never get back!" One might wonder just what Chest actually /does/ with his money... aside from building Battlebots every year, that is. Clicking his cell phone shut, job done, Chest watches as Bluecoat gets a tongue full of enthusiasm. A spare glance is given to the hotdog vendor. Hopefully the guy has insurance.

 

Bluecoat doesn't know any 4/4 patterns, but he /does/ recognize the symbol he saw on Javelin...his snout gets licked, and he stares. "Uh....is your mama a deer?" he asks it. Just want to ask...

 

The Robot Master beat furiously at the the small flame the had grown from the spark that had landed on his hat. He eventually jerked the hat from his head and stomped out the fire with his foot. He picked up the charred hat and shook his head at the large hole that had been burned right through it.

 

I doubt they have insurance for Acts of Hyenard. Still, Edward continues dousing flames, at least until the fire department arrives. "Do they have leash laws for robopets, I wonder?"

 

The Morsa family holds untold vaults of treasure, and is possibly the richest family there is that's not televised or well known. Almost every day, Lawrence gives up a small portion of his earnings (Which is still a large number, even as a small fraction) to various charities and organizations that are doing what they do for the good of the people, or the animals. Here is Chest, a man he's heard about but hasn't actually recognized until now. He's like the Scrooge McDuck of the world, except he's nowhere as cool as a Scottish Duck. It's a talking Duck, man! FROM SCOTTLAND! With a sigh, Lawrence just groans at Chest. "Sir... You, are, pathetic."

 

It's times like this that Chest cherishes his home town of San Angeles. Sure, the mayor's paranoid, but golly gee, it really is the safest place. No crazi hijinks with mini-hyenards there! Nosireebob

 

Chest looks back at Shadaro and flashes one of his charismatic smiles at him. "Tell that to Forbes magazine," he says with a wink. "I didn't get to where I am today by being a wasteful spender! In fact, in my day, when we got a Zenny, we planned out its future for the next ten years so all of it would go to a worthwhile endeavor!"

 

Lawrence gives a slight snort, and while he's a kind man, it's the penny-pinchers that really annoy him. Not poor ones, persay, but the kind that have more than enough pennies to flood the Nile. "And in my day, when we got a zenny, it was because we were working to keep it out of the hands of people who wouldn't be grateful for it."

        Con Brio wriggles with puppyish glee! And licks Bluecoat some more. "WANNADEER!"

        Pause.

        Then, because it hasn't said anything like it in awhile: "AHWOOOOOO!"

        Evidently the smaller versions still have a larger-than-life voicebox.

        Little tail wagging insanely, it catches a quick glimpse of the arriving firefighters--and SPURS away, landing on the ground again with a THUNK. And then there are a bunch more THUNKs, because it starts ramming its little empty head against the wall right next to a set of hospital doors. Perhaps it's shortsighted.

 

Edward Hampton looks up from his fire extinguishing over to Lawrence, arching an eyebrow. "I really don't think you have room to talk." Eyes flick down, noting the belt... And what's on it. The I-Spy smiles faintly, at that. Interesting.

 

Bluecoat goes over to the hospital and picks up the dog before it gets /more/ brain damage than it already has. "Okay, Okay! I'll take you to...momma..." he looks to the doors of the hospital, with the mini-Hyenard, and steps in... "Show's over, folks!" he calls to the others outside. "The fire's will be put out...I, uh, have this under control..." he'll try to keep the hospital from burning down.

 

Urge to rant... rising...! Chest jabs a finger in Lawrence's direction. "Whoa now - just what are you tryin' to say, buddy boy? You're saying that I'm cheap? You're saying that I don't put in enough work for where I am today? Well let me tell you a thing or two," Chest gestures with his fingers as he rambles off a list, "1. I put in a good solid eighteen hours a day in the office - that's more than most of you punks can claim. 2. Anyone who 'wouldn't be grateful to have some money' can sign on up and get a job. So long as they aren't lazy, they'll get their fair share! Just takes a little elbow grease and hard effort." Chest is about to continue with the list when he's distracted by the hyenard smashing its head against a wall. Chest winches. That looked like it hurt.

 

        Con Brio wigglewigglewigglewiggles in Bluecoat's arms--but doesn't attempt to run off again. Most likely it's just doing that to give him trouble. It DOES start gnawing on his hand, though, because...well....he's still hungry, and hands kind of look like hot dogs. Really.

        But the flames on him are noticably lower. Probably running out of fuel--with all that kelp hanging off him, one has to wonder exactly how far the little bastard ran to find Jav...

        "BUWN!"

        Hospital staff looks a leeeeeeettle nervous. But Bluecoat knows what he's doing, right? Right.

 

        Blue sighs, and he says to the nurse, "Javelin Whitetail? I'm looking for her room...please..."

 

Chest hovers towards the hospital with Camera following after him. "I got this much of the story; I don't plan on missing out on the rest," he mutters. "Out of the way! Official GNN business! The fate of the entire planet could depend on getting this information out to the masses." he shouts as he passes through the doors. Yeah, that gets people moving. Chest follows Bluecoat in.

 

        The front desk worker is a rather harried looking tortiose; dressed in two-tone blue. He mutters something as Bluecoat walks in with the mini-hyenard. Then, out loud: "Light almighty, not /another/ one..." A bit of shuffling under the desk occurs; after a moment, a large carrier is handed over. Fireproofed. "Stick him in there, and if he gets out, /you/ guys are paying the bill. And don't take him near ER or other patient rooms, there's enough people burnt up there from those damn things. Whitetail's on the third floor--she's still under Virus supervision, so don't go in unless you're willing to tolerate a scan yourself."

        Chest gets a critical eye. "No cameras, boyo. If you weren't top dog in the news world, I wouldn't even consider letting you up there. We've had specific requests to keep media to a minimum. Don't disturb her too much, her case is pretty severe--and you." He points a flattish tortiose hand at Bluecoat. "If the patient seems bothered, get rid of him. Any disturbance at this point might aggrivate infection, and we'd rather not have to knock her out again."

        After that impersonal review, the tortoise waves a hand indifferently. "Other than that--have fun, kids." And he settles back to a mound of paperwork.

 

Bluecoat grunts in reply to the tortoise, and puts the Hyenard in the carrier. He proceeds to make his way to the room where Javelin is in, squeezing himself through any doorways he comes across...or attempting to.

 

Yamato Man (Minus his now burnt hat) follows the dinosaur reploid into the garage. He keeps back a safe distance and tries to blend in as best he can with other bystandards.

 

Chest gets an injured look on his expression, as if to say 'Moi?' "I would never dare bring a camera up there!" he exclaims. Camera chooses this moment to beep loudly at him. Chest peers down at him and says in a fake tone, "Why Camera. I. Did not know. You were there! You can. Go away. Now." He says, jerking a thumb towards the exit. The drone complies, and Chest smiles innocently at the desk worker. "'Another one'?" Chest asks Bluecoat as he rushes after the Interpoller. "What in the world do you think he meant by /that/?" Chest is getting a sinking feeling.

 

        "We've had reports of 'faulty' things like these going after the ones who buy them..." Bluecoat explains as he journeys.

 

Edward Hampton has arrived.

 

        Con Brio wiggles excitedly--although he allows himself to be put in the carrier, and promptly lies down inside it. Evidently it's recharging time for the little guy, secure in the knowledge that he's being taken to 'mama'.

        And Javelin Whitetail is quite aways away--Bluecoat's going to have to squeeze through any number of doors, and several times, people who were heading for them have to duck out of the way. Even for a reploid hospital, he's pretty darn big.

        At the entrance to the hallway of infected reploids is a large room, with thick doors and transparisteel windows, much like those on Eurasia--and a few doctors at a desk behind it, constantly checking on scanning equipment. All those entering and leaving must be scanned--either carrying the virus in, or taking it back out; both have dire consequences. Inside is door after door, all of them shut, with attendants constantly milling in and out. Not all of the patients are here entirely of their own will, and more than one nurse is seen carrying a neural stabilizer. And there lay the closed door to Javelin's room; with no attendant currently nearby.

 

 

Bluecoat first goes and gets himself scan. He should be clean. After this, he goes to Javelin's door. He sighs, wondering how he should go about this...

 

Chest ahhhs and continues to hover after Bluecoat. It isn't easy, as Chest isn't exactly known for his great speed. At least he doesn't have to squeeze through any tight doors. Being small has its advantages. Once they finally reach the door leading into Javelin's room, Chest pauses, gesturing to Bluecoat as if to say 'after you'. Hey, he's the cop here. Chest is just an observer.

 

        Javelin Whitetail is evidently one of those not here on her own volition. The glimpse that Chest would catch over Bluecoat's bulk as he quickly drops off the carrier and leaves is more than enough to attest to that--and once Bluecoat has escaped Javelin's glare, the reason he ran out is probably evident. Pure malice.

        But Chest doesn't get that glare--it seeps back into curiousity; the Deer flipping her ears at him. Javelin is still wearing the clothing they hauled her in with--gold fillings in all her engravings; an expensive dress and headband accented with emeralds; her fiberoptic hair only slightly unsmoothed from her brief battle with Interpol. However, her arms, hooves, and waist, are strapped down against the back-propped bed; and part of her chestplate just below the neck has been opened--exposing her neural net, which is located not where it normally is, in the head, but where the human heart would be. Attached to it--several cords and wires, tying into an IV-like device. An audial damper--to keep her sonics from anything more than a low hum. Judging by the lack of anything glass in the room, there's a good reason for it.

 

Chest picks up the carrier gingerly, peering through it. "My, aren't you a cute little thing when you're not destroying property values." he mutters. And without further ado, Chest pushes in the door and hovers into the hospital room. He peers at the strapped down entertainer and reminds himself that Javelin is potentially a dangerous Maverick. Why is he working with people like this again? "Er." he says, briefly at a loss for words. This rare state for him passes quickly, however, as he says, "Long story short... is this yours?" he holds up the carrier. so she can see inside.

 

Javelin Whitetail actually smiles. In a not-creepy, not-insane manner. "Con Brio! How ever did you get him here, Mr. Chest, sir..." And then she leans forward, restraints going taught, to peek into the carrier. And sees the little piece of kelp. "Oh my...poor little fella must've come after me here...good dog, wonderful, brilliant dog!"

        Inside the carrier, a little *piff* of smoke that indicates the minihyenard is listening at least partially, even if he's exhausted.

        Evidently Javelin doesn't see any way that this could harm her deal with Chest, because he doesn't get a single awkward look about it.

 

If someone listens carefully, they might hear a faint 'clank'. A few minutes later, a hand presses a small adhesive lens to the corner of the window, the hand disappearing again.

 

What's going on? Well, Ed was rather brusquely turned away by the hospital (apparently, Jav doesn't want pokey Interpol spies floating around! The nerve!) Outside, Edward leans against the wall, braced using his legs to hold the line of the grappling hook he just set, while slipping on a pair of headphones and firing up a small display. Apparently someone feels like spying tonight.

 

Chest thinks back to what the desk guy said about returning the creature. Seemed like it was alright so long as it didn't cause any damage. And so, he hands the carrier over to Javelin, unconsciously ensuring that he doesn't actually touch the potentially infected Reploid. "Better keep him in the cage... he... ah... he caused a lot of trouble..." he's about to sum it all up, but instead just says, "Just watch the news tonight."

 

        Normally, Javelin would almost certainly hear that clank--with ears like that, one would hope so. But Ed's little act of voyeurism can go unchecked tonight, due to the amount of internal noice Javelin is experiencing--and there's quite a lot of it. She sighs resignedly as Chest places the carrier next to her; unable to do much else with her hands and arms clamped down as they are. "Whatever am I to do with him. Cute little frigger."

 

        At the mention of news, her ears slide backwards again, and her brown-and-green optics glimmer juuuuuuust a little oddly. "Not much in th'way of good news lately, hmm?" Chest may or may not have heard the latest rumours come flying from Eurasia--but if he has, then he might understand that mad little gleam. And the reason for the restraints.

 

Chest has no clue Edward's about. He's a newsperson, not a counter-spy agent! "Well... Battle and Chase ending... I'm sure I'll have plenty of /bad/ news to go over in... oh I dunno, any minute now." Chest says after a glance at his watch. The truce is officially over, and somehow the world just feels heavier all of a sudden. "At any rate, lemme know if you need anything... and keep an eye on that little bugger." Not that Javelin can do anything about it... except call a nurse for help.

 

Edward Hampton is just hanging out, braced nicely against the wall as he listens and watches. Everythign seems to be juuuust fine....

 

Above, the grappling hook appears to have caught onto a fire escape, which happens to have a WARNING sign on it. It makes the slightest creaking noise as the wright appears to be bending the metal slightly... Too bad Ed can't hear this with those headphones on.

You post your note about 'B&C Commentary I' in group 'IC News' as message #105

 

Javelin Whitetail nods; some of her earrings jangling lightly against her neck. "'tis over? Aye then...and I think it's time for me t'head home soon. All of before th'games, seems like a bad nightmare sometimes, with such a long peace." And it was nice for awhile. But now...well, maybe it's a good thing the Deer's under restraint. It'll keep her somewhere presumably safe.

        One of her ears flickers again. She tenses on the bed--although there's nothing she could do if she /wasn't/ just hearing something. Certainly she's done her fair share of that in the day or so she's been here.

 

Chest grunts and nods, "Yeah, it's over for now. But don't leave until the nurses clear you. And for cryin' out loud, stay away from the Mavericks. They just get you into trouble like this," he says, gesturing to all the virus scans and such. "Anyway... good luck, Javelin. Contact me about the project whenever you have some solid information." he adds. And, with that, Chest hovers out the door to report on all this nonsense.

 

Javelin Whitetail smiles. If only Chest knew--that while she might have minor infections, she's no more likely to get the virus than Rock is. Thanks to certain orders. Even if she wanted to, she'd be proof.

        But none of that is aloud--merely a wave of her held-down fingers, and a halfhearted snort from the little sleeping Con Brio. And no verbal promise from Javelin, none at all.

 

Creak...

Edward grunts, deactivating the camera-microphone and stashing the equipment again.

Creeeeak....

He pulls off the headphones, and reaches out to pull off the camera...

CreeeeeeakSNAP! Edward's hook suddenly gives way, and he begins falling... TOTHEGROUND! Even in the face of this, there is only a short hiss of surprise and a muttered curse as he plunges to the ground and smashes into a dumpster at high speed. "OW, ^)#(!"

 

============================ BB Post in Progress =============================

Group:  IC News

Title:  Flaming Guy Hyenard in Seoul

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

        "...Turbo was later quoted as saying that he thought the cop was a prostitute."

 

        Chest turns to face another camera. Geez, this day is never going to end. We're into the fluff parts of the news now. "On the lighter side of things, the United Nations Plaza once again became the centre of attention. But this time it was due to a... cough... mini-Flame Hyenard that assaulted a group of reporters in the area, including yours truly..." There's footage of one of these little bastards chasing after people. Shadaro and Bluecoat are trying to fend it off with limited success. Chest and Edward Hampton are watching and eating hotdogs, clearly amused.

 

        "The toy was trying to return to its owner - one Javelin Whitetail, currently undergoing Virus detection here in Seoul. Finally the mini-hyenard was captured and returned to the entertainer. Ten out of ten witnesses interviewed were quoted as saying that 'this was the stupidest thing that they had ever seen'." Chest quickly adds. "I was the tenth."

 

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