[IC] Paint

[Polyphemus]

Clarion cleared the lip of the roof on his skates, landed gracefully on the other rooftop and applied the brakes. "This commission is bogus, dude," he complained casually, not even breathing hard as he leaned forwards and worked his legs. The wheels hissed over the roof. "This is just a list of products. I remember when I was a kid restaurants used to put takeout menus on doorknobs. Dudes would just throw that stuff away." Clarion shrugged. "Guess if homeslice has the bones, he gets what he wants. He isn't exactly all that and a bag of chips, though."

The two men reached another roof, this one gabled. Without thinking about it, Clarion leaped the next gap, grinding along the pitched gutter, an easy drop to the ground. "I really hope we can get some better stuff, y'know, dude? I mean, if I'm gonna put my name on something, I want it to be something I can be proud of, know what I mean? Y'know, I should probably ask you where we're going. And maybe get off street level," Clarion said, his voice trailing off as he realized Dodger had not followed him to the ground. Shaking his head, he grabbed the low gutter with his long arms and hoisted himself up. Had to keep his head in the game.

[Swarley]

Carissa looked to Free who was obviously a little out of the loop when it comes to spraying for cash. "Contracts are really easy so don't be discouraged. You just have to do what the client wants then you can get money to live off of. It's not like actually artistry when you have to come up with a concept that will hopefully both anger and intrigue people then you have to actually execute it. You'll get the hang of this in no time." She said in a reassuring voice. As much as she hated contracts she did have to admit that it was a lot easier than her own work. They didn't exactly have to be masterpieces.

She then turned to Sass, who had given her some info on what to say to Ethan at his place. "Awesome, I will pass on the info to him later tonight." She smiled under her bandanna, glad she could cut in an old friend on this deal. She nodded towards Sass and vaulted out the window she used to get in. It was then that she finally looked at the contract she had in her hands. It was for one of the only record stores that was left in the city. The contract didn't really have much to it other than the fact that it wanted the logo and some mentions of bands that can be found at the store, while the company made the mistake of not actually listing anything Carissa had some idea of what was actually there, having been there a few times when she was in high school. "Free, just follow me and I'll tell you what's going down." She said, tossing the contract paper back to her partner as she started moving foreward.

[The book of bad juju]

The sharp jolt of vibration startled him awake, and he squirmed in the sheets before an arm reached out and grabbed the violently jerking metal object. To Matt's surprise, It wasn´t his alarm clock but the cheap fliphone he had set aside for his once-friend and now client, a youthful lawbreaker named Clarissa. Matt opened the phone, struggled with the interface for a bit with the unfamilliar interface, and mumbled out a "Hello?"

"Yeah, this is Ethan" Said Matt, smirking a little at the fake name.

"The Eastern ridge? Oh, okay, that Cheapside dump. I doubt i can make it there, with the... restrictions and all. " He continued, pulling a laptop close to him. All phonecalls were monitored, saved to lossless formats, and dumped into a big rack of servers to be analysed by a rudimentalry piece of code running on a massive mainframe which doubled as the offfice's supply of heat. Matt liked to take his lunch breaks near it. That gave them a couple of minutes, at this time of night, to wipe out the recording of their conversation before the machine flagged up words like "Eastern Ridge" and "Sprayer gang". Matt grabbed the mouse with his free hand, opened Teamviewer, and signed in with his work password. Hmm. Someone was already on it. Six windows were open, each showing a .dvr recording. In all of them someone walked into shot, turned to a wall, and sprayed deodorant on it in a big X, before running off. Not Matt's problem, he left that be. Probably someone else wanted to earn that little extra overtime by putting a few extra sprayers behind bars.

"Mmm, okay. Tell him i'll make it, but no promises. A her? Okay, sorry about that." He said, carrying on his part of the conversation. He clicked his way into a few folders, found the few currently being recorded, and stared blankly. This was one of the most fun parts of his... Covert job. Since he was still speaking, the file of their conversation was still being recorded too and amplified. Each and every second it grew larger. Around it, more files were coming in and going out as more people called their relatives in the dead of night. Matt was looking for the only stationary needle in a city-sized haystack, but it was still doable. There.

"...Still on? 'mkay, I'll look her up. Yeah, with the curfew and all... Eh, i'll think of something, don't worry too much about it. G'night." Matt filed in the usual bureaucratic mess of error reports, and logged out. He glanced at the clock, the wall, and the big walk-in window to the balcony. He climbed off his bed, and looked undernieth it, finally pulling out a box. Matt grinned, and felt his heart begin to race.

[Sam12435]

Jace was a little relieved after an explanation of just what was going on. The idea seemed pretty smart to Jace, bypass the laws by getting sprayers to do it for you. He couldn’t help but grin at the thought of going around the police. What they did was still illegal, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little at the fact they were outsmarting the cops.

“Thanks that makes much more sense now.” He said with a grin that he realised was unable to be seen. As Sass and Anarcho talked about some friend they were meant to see he leaned against the wall and pulled out a screwdriver, fiddling with the screws on his grappler. Call it paranoia, but he had a habit of doing maintenance on it about every ten minutes. When something is the only thing holding you up and you are twenty stories above the ground you want to make sure it works. It was when he was addressed that he snapped back into focus.

“That seems like a pretty good plan” He said as he put his screwdriver back into his pocket and took off his bag to do a quick check. After making sure he was properly equipped, he put his bag on his back. He looked over and caught the incoming job sheet and read it over before folding it up and putting it in his jacket pocket.

“Sounds good to me” He said excitedly as he made his way to the window he entered from. He would always get excited when he was about to spray. His heart was beating faster than it had in a long time. For some reason, this felt very different to his normal spraying sessions. Something about the extra risk, the possibility of reward, everything about this just made his skin crawl with anticipation.

“Anyone else really pumped right now?” He asked as he stepped his way out of the window and stretched, looking up at the night sky.

[Mach2]

Mallory waited silently as Paige briefed Trevor on the tagging that had been going on around the city. In truth, they had few leads on the exact nature of the red X’s. But they were indeed something. When the Northgate security team got a lead, they acted on it. That was the only way arrests could be made. As she listened, she stood still. Completely and totally still. Paige, of course, would be used to Mallory’s almost robotic nature, but it may be unnerving to those who didn’t know her quite so well.

“Mallory,” she answered in response to Trevor’s question. “I make a point of not using my last name.”

Paige and Trevor proceeded to begin to discuss the code. The encrypted notes that were left at each of the sites of the X’s. "The code completely flew by my head. But like I mentioned, I've been cross-checking cameras, trying to follow this Sprayer in particular, but I always lose her. Mallory?"

She proceeded to elaborate on the code. “We’ve been trying to break the code since it started showing up,” Mallory told Trevor. “It’s not quite as simple as it seems. We have enough convicts in the Northgate prison that we should be able to interrogate them on it and have them decipher it. But the language shifts every few weeks, it seems. Even as we discover the meaning of a word, it becomes obsolete.”

She gave a slight shrug, clearly annoyed with the fact that the code was too much of a challenge for her team, or for herself. “It’s essentially gibberish.”

“As for tracking the one responsible for the X’s…well, like Paige said. We keep losing her. But it’s clear the something is happening. For the next few nights, we’ll be keeping constant watch on the surveillance footage. I’m likely going to assemble a security force to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice tonight, should anything come up,” she continued. “If you’re interested in working in the field, Agent Westbrook, I can add you to the security detail. I don’t need to ask to know that Paige will be interested. And I’ll be on the team myself, of course.”

As it was still the middle of the day, Mallory was suggesting that it would be a very long night. She was used to giving up sleep for her work. In fact, it was questionable when she ever managed to get enough sleep, with the hours she put in. Undoubtedly, the lower-ranking interns who would be joining the security detail would have a few glaring looks for their superior at the prospect of overnight work.

[DR_TRAPEZOID]

Dodger smiled, watching Clarions descent to the street level. As he waited for Clarion to realize his mistake, he pulled out a can of simple black spray paint, shaking it up a bit. He could tell that he was nearing the place, he could feel it. He had a bit of trouble telling where he was from the rooftops, all of the skylights, vents, and satellite dishes blurring together in the skyline. No, Dodger ran around, using notable sprays as landmarks in his running. He knew a large patch of empty brick next to another artists work, a beatuiful piece showing an elegant tree from which a Northgate Policeman was hanging. The statement was a straightforward one, and it was a miracle that it hadn't been painted over by the police already, it was a rather direct insult.

He had managed to keep track of a bit of what Clarion had said while down below, something about wanting better requests, an interest shared by Dodger. Drug dealers were really a plague upon the streets, almost as bad as the police and their cameras. But, money is money, and money is good. So, Dodger didn't complain, simply brainstormed something in his head for the offhanded request.

Not much came to mind, nothing amazing. Simple designs were popping up, but he didn't exactly have much to work with. He sighed, skidding to a stop as he ran, sliding off of the building, and catching himself on a fire escape below. Yes, this was the place, he thought to himself, ideas sprouting to life as he stared upon the blank canvas of brick staring down at him.

"Hmmm... I think that we need colours. Lots of colours. Maybe something about the police, I'm sure the druggies would like that." Dodger muttered, his hand idly tossing up the can of paint up and down, thinking.