[table][row] [cell][/cell][cell][right][img]http://i.imgur.com/NGQnS6B.png[/img] [sub][color=111111][b]Outskirts of Frixion Prime — Drawbridge[/b][/color] [@Dark Light] [@Antarctic Termite] [@LPRKN][/sub][/right][/cell] [/row][/table][color=f49ac2]"Bitch please, if you knew how much money I was worth, your [i]balls[/i] would drop."[/color] The girl fired back, her better judgement bruised and battered through years of constant abuse. [color=f49ac2]"As much as you talk out of your ass, you should have a gas mask rigged up to your [i]other[/i] set of cheeks."[/color] Feet on the bridge. But on the other side. Not too close yet. Getting closer. But not too close. Key length known, brute-forced about 66% of the available bit-space. Just a bit further. Just a little bit further. Keep him talking. Any second now. [color=f49ac2]"Oh, hey!"[/color] SIGINT was honestly surprised to see the horns, returning the gesture with aplomb. Her voice seemed to make a hard shift from 'aggressive' to 'pleasant conversation' literally between sentences, almost as though she were talking to two separate people. [color=f49ac2]"Heh. You know, I used to be a state-socialist? I was [i]waaay[/i] more idealistic, back then."[/color] 'A better system'. She had spent her childhood enamored with that idea. Overthrow the rotten system, and replace it with a better one. But as she grew older, she slowly came to realize — all things rotted. No matter how well-crafted, how benevolent it was constructed to be, a 'system' would inevitably be undermined, corrupted, and used as a tool for exploitation. Perhaps overtly. Perhaps quietly. But it always happened. Change the clothes, and the clothes grow dirty once more. How often does a country do its laundry? The moment her life changed was when she realized, that the only system that could guarantee freedom, was no system at all. SIGINT's head snapped up, as though she heard something from far away. In a sense, she [i]had[/i] — her brain was still picking up their radio chatter. Intercepting signals was something she could do passively. If it was a device that sent out signals of its own accord, and she had no intent to modify, all she had to do was decrypt them locally. It was when the device didn't normally broadcast, or when she wanted to actually [i]do[/i] something to it, that she needed to send a signal of her own. And that meant either commandeering a nearby proxy with a sufficient signalling range of its own, or giving away her location to anyone savvy enough to track it. [color=f49ac2]"Fuck. More of 'em."[/color] The girl muttered, [color=f49ac2]"And they've got drones, now? Man, this is bullshit. I had to go and leave [i]my[/i] drones at the base. [sub]If a cheap hotel counts as a base.[/sub]"[/color] She raised her head, blowing a wet bang away from her forehead uselessly. [color=f49ac2]"Maybe I can just take one of theirs...nah, I'd probably need to open it up for that..."[/color] Oh, wait, that other guy was still here. [color=f49ac2]"Uh."[/color] One thing was clear, at this point. If her angel wasn't coming to her, she'd have to go to her angel. [color=f49ac2]"Look, this is fun and all, how about we settle it with an old-timey duel? We both walk eight-hundred-thousand paces, then turn and fire."[/color] The girl, who was clearly unarmed, held up a finger-gun with a toothy, metallic smile. [color=f49ac2]"Here, I'll start."[/color] whrrrrrrRRRRRRRR———[b]CLUNK[/b] SIGINT blinked, honest distress coming across her face for the first time. [color=f49ac2]"Uh..."[/color] She stammered, looking down at where the motor of the bridge was, underneath the metal — not that she could see it from here. [color=f49ac2]"L-Like I said, I'll sta—"[/color] RRRR———[b]CLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNK[/b]———WHRRRRRRrrrrrr[sub]rrrrrrr[/sub] Well, shit. [hr] [color=f49ac2][i]Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 'Mechanical failure'!? What the ass-flavored toaster pastry— Nevermind. Whatever. What else is in the area? No choice. Omnidirectional ping, going out. If that drone tracks it, I'll just have to move. They already know I'm alive, anyway. Is that...is that a hand-held device under the— fucking cuntweasels, he has an accomplice!! What are they? Bounty hunters? No, he would have shot me on sight, I'm dead-or-alive. Not a cop. Not corporate. What do they want!? Shit shit shit shit shit, what else, what's coming back from the ping, what can I use— Floodgates! Floodgates? [b]Floodgates.[/b][/i][/color]