Tall dark and not very handsome elf...looks deadly.
Monfilament Sword: 5P Reach 1 AP: -1
Elf needs gun badly
I think everyone’s already read my background…so here it is in full, no secrets.
Dru, AKA Romeo Shadows 569
Dru grew up in a normal household early in life. His younger sister Liselle constantly pestered him, as little sisters will often do. When Dru was very little, he remembered a time when life was good. When he became older, things changed. His father Andrew held down a good job working as an accountant for Renraku, but had dreams of someday being fabulously wealthy. His mother worked as a homemaker, part time writer, and psychedelic drug dealer on the side to help bring in additional nuyen to support his father’s aspirations. When his sister became old enough, she was encouraged to work in the sex industry, to help the family raise its economic status. Dru was encouraged to get a job to help with the family’s goals. No one expected much from Dru, he was pretty much without skills and was nothing special to look at. After looking for quite a while, he managed to get a job as a cashier at Computer Exchange. While his sister and mother were raking in thousands of nuyen a week to the family coffers and adding to his father’s dreams, he was barely making enough to feed and clothe himself with enough left over for the occasional vid game. To put it bluntly, life for Dru, sucked. His sister constantly taunted him about how useless he was to the family and how father should just remove him because he was more of a burden than a benefit. His father was disappointed and his mother tolerated him.
Then one night after working the swing shift, as Dru was locking up the store for the night, a group of street toughs with jackets that stated they were with “Anarchists Anonymous” and the motto “12 Steps to kick your ass” emblazoned on the back, came out of the shadows and began beating him with clubs. Dru went down immediately, not being trained to fight, covering his head with his hands and arms, trying to protect himself. They must have beaten him unconscious, because when he woke up later, daylight was just approaching and he was lying on his back in front of the store. The last thing he remembered was feeling a strange pulsing between his eyes. He hurt everywhere. He was pretty sure he had several broken ribs at least, and who knows what else. He didn’t feel like he could move. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the door to the store was open and the place was trashed. His boss would be around very soon to open the store for the day. He was dead meat. There was no way he could explain this. His excuse would not be accepted and he’d be held accountable for the damages. Not only was he not bringing any money in to his family, but now he had incurred a huge debt. What skills or possessions did he have that he could earn enough nuyen to pay for all this damage? He didn’t know. It was really hard to think with all this pain. He ended up just lying there, for lack of some better idea.
He heard the telltale sound of his boss’s Mitsubishi Nightsky nearly silently pulling up to the store and parking in his customary spot. He heard the sound of a solid well-made door shut crisply and footsteps approaching. He tried to turn his head to look, but his head and neck protested and he settled for just waiting. It wasn’t long. His boss, Willy Oxlo, a big fat balding greasy-haired, sweaty human in a new tailored suit leaned over him glaring. “I don’t pay you to sleep here, Dru! Get your ass out of here, you’re going to drive customers away. And get your shit together, your shift starts at 2PM”. It was then that he noticed the store. His jaw dropped along with his briefcase, which made a strange squishing noise as it hit the mud and water , which splashed onto Dru’s face, a sensation he found strangely refreshing. Oxlo turned back toward Dru, his face beet red, trying to contain his rage. “What. Happened. Here. You piece of shit!!!!!!!” Dru tried to speak, but nothing would come out. He just stared up helplessly at Mr. Oxlo, his eyes pleading with him. It was then that Oxlo lost it. “You worthless piece of shit!” Oxlo began kicking Dru hard about the head and chest, and Dru couldn’t even move to defend himself. “You are SOOO fired. I’m going to get every nuyen lost back from you, you’ve messed with the wrong guy you fucking little assho…”. That was weird, Mr. Oxlo’s rant, just cut off in the middle, just when he was getting warmed up, too. What had happened? Then Dru heard a thump and splash, followed by a smaller thump and a muffled sound of something hitting on metal. He also realized that he wasn’t being kicked anymore. Huh, that’s weird, when Mr. Oxlo gets in one of his “moods”, there’s really nothing short of major medication that will cure it.
Then, while Dru was lying there thinking about what had just happened, he felt something light land on his chest. A sleek, athletic female in black tights with a utility belt and other things (weapons?) he couldn’t really make out, appeared in his vision. Oh great, one more beating coming right up. He cringed and recoiled as much as his pain wracked body would allow from the blows he was certain would be coming from her, but nothing happened. Instead, she simply spoke. “I think you have potential. The thugs that beat you up also killed your boss. Contact me if you are interested in learning more.” Then she was gone. After a while, he realized that maybe he wasn’t hurt nearly as bad as he had thought. He was able to sit up and look around. The first thing he observed was the headless body of Mr. Oxlo, lying in the puddle next to him and his briefcase. After some looking around, he found Mr. Oxlo’s head, neatly landed in a garbage can. Had the thugs really done that? No, they’d gone. What had happened? He then remembered the paper on his chest and looked at it. All it said was Onja 230404541. It appeared to be a commlink code, apparently a way to contact her. Well, whoever did this had given him a way out. He quickly hurried into the store and pulled all the nuyen out of the register and then remembered that Mr. Oxlo brought more money with him each morning in his briefcase. He rifled that as well, careful not to get his fingerprints on the bag itself. He took all the nuyen and stashed in a sewer grate under a dumpster and went into the store to call the police.
That morning, after filing his report with the police, he arrived at home to find his family having breakfast together. None but his mother bothered to even look up to greet him. He was a bit surprised that they didn’t comment on his physical condition, even though he was feeling quite a bit better now. As walked past the breakfast table, he dropped a large wad of nuyen in the middle and simple stated “one of my long shots paid off” and headed to his room. Behind him, he heard his sister’s taunting voice “That…that’s nothing. You should have kept some of that to get some better clothes, you look like shit.” Dru kept walking, and as he closed the door to his he heard his father giggling gleefully as he began to count the nuyen. Dru lay on his bed, but couldn’t sleep. The vision of that woman kept coming into his mind. Who was she? What had she done? Was she part of what happened to Mr. Oxlo? What did she mean she thought he had potential? Well for sure he no longer had a job. The money he’d left on the table would keep his family off his back for a while, but as soon as they found out he no longer had a job, they’d be on his ass every minute of every day, especially his sister. He had no other prospects. Maybe this woman wanted to hire him? He couldn’t understand why, basically the only potential he thought she could have seen in him is as a poor punching bag. But what the hell, what did he have to lose? He commed the code using his commlink and was surprised to receive an auto reply with GPS coordinates. Huh, what the hell was this? Well he had nothing better to do today, might as well see where this leads.
Using some of the nuyen he’d kept from Mr. Oxlo’s register, Dru took a hoverbus and got off at stop in the warehouse district about 10 blocks from the coordinates. He walked the remaining distance and was struck by just how deserted the area was. The coordinates lead him to a warehouse, indistinct from the others around it. He circled until he found the door. Trying the knob, he found it unlocked. “Well, here goes nothing” he thought, and turned the knob. The door swung inward, creaking as it moved. The inside of the warehouse was dark, but Dru’s superior eyesight allowed him to take in the features easily and quickly. It was completely empty as far as he could see. As he stepped in, he heard the softest whisper from somewhere above him “shut it and walk to middle of the room”. He did as he was asked, was that the voice of the same woman? He thought so, but couldn’t be sure. Well, he had nothing of value on him, having left most of the rest of the nuyen he kept in his room at home. He arrived in the middle of the room and stood there in the lightless warehouse accompanied only by the sound of his own breathing. What the heck was he doing here? Who were these people and what did they want from him? “Calm down” he thought. If she’d wanted to harm him, she had ample chance at the store earlier this morning. He waited, trying to be patient. After several minutes, he observed one figure, then another drop down from the ceiling near the door and approach him. One appeared to be the lady Onja who he’d met earlier today. The other was a man, dressed very similarly to her. Now that he could get a direct look at them, he observed they both carried swords over their backs, among other things. Thinking back to the condition of Mr. Oxlo’s body, he realized the head had probably been decapitated by a large, very sharp blade. “Hmmm, interesting,” he thought. Dru waited. The man spoke first. “So, this is him”. “Yes” she replied without any further explanation. “Very well, we will see if you are right.” The man began making complex motions with his hands, and once again, Dru began to feel a pulsing of energy between his eyes, coming somewhere from under his skull. “What the hell are you doing to me?” They both ignored him, and though he felt no pain, he could not move to leave, though when he thought about it, he really didn’t have a desire to do so. Finally, the man said “Yes, you were correct. He has it. I will train him.” “Very good”, she said, and moved to leave. “Wait” Dru said, “I don’t even know what’s going on here." “Ksopi will explain everything. He will be your teacher now. You and I will never see each other again. Goodbye.” With that, she left the building, leaving him with this strange mystic man.
“So”, Dru began, but was immediately cut off with a chopping hand motion from Ksopi. “I will train. When ready, you work for us. We pay well. Other choice is don’t leave warehouse alive.” It was at this point that Dru realized that both Ksopi and Onja had a similar accent he couldn’t place. He didn’t recall if he’d ever heard it before, it seemed foreign but a little familiar. Dru shook himself out of this thinking realizing that Ksopi had basically just given him a choice: train or die and was waiting for his answer. Better give him one before he made up his own mind. “Ok, I’ll learn from you, but can I ask what I’m training for?” “No. We start now.” Over the next weeks and months, Dru trained with Ksopi, sometimes the training was just sitting for hours in meditation, Ksopi opening Dru’s “chi”, other times it was pure physical exertion as they worked on swordplay, hand to hand combat, and climbing and gymnastics. They never left the warehouse. Dru gradually got into shape, and was quite surprised at his ability to keep up with Ksopi, who had clearly been at this a lot longer. He often wondered during the process exactly what he was being trained to do, but he never asked. Ksopi didn’t talk much and didn’t like questions. After about 6 months of intense training, Ksopi declared him ready. Ksopi handed Dru a packet of paper and said simply “You are to open this and follow the orders inside. When the job is complete, comm the code in the packet. Commit this to memory as you’ve been taught and then destroy it.” And with no more ceremony than that, he was gone. Dru stood in the now familiar warehouse and couldn’t believe he’d been coming here for 6 months. But when he looked down at his body and felt the grace in his form, he realized that he was really quite a different person than the one who had timidly entered the warehouse those 6 months ago. He turned to leave and as he approached the door, he saw a bundle of things leaning against the wall. There was a sword and a knife, as well as a bunch of different gear that might be used for climbing and dealing with security systems. He realized that he recognized it all. This was equipment for breaking and entering. He further realized that he knew how to use it all, which was funny, because he hadn’t been trained on it. He hefted the pack and decided to open the packet before leaving. Inside he found a simple note and a drawing and detail of a building. It said “You are Romeo Shadows 569. This is how you will be called when working for us.” “What a strange handle, Dru thought”. “Your task is to enter the Shiawase headquarters this evening and kill Vice President Iakuuri Homaru. Comm this code when the task is complete.” Dru was stunned. So he was supposed to be some sort of contract killer. This is what his training had been about. Somehow he knew that refusing now was the same as refusing the training 6 months ago. There was no option if he wanted to live. Well, he’d wanted a job, and now he apparently had the skills to do this one. One look at the bottom of the paper “Payment: 20,000 nuyen upon completion" removed all doubts in his mind. He needed to earn money, and he had no other leads or thoughts about what he could do. So he set out to execute his task.
Entering the Shiawase building was easy, really, much easier that it should have been. He didn’t even have to bypass security; the packet he’d memorized had all the security codes. In his chameleon suit, he easily bypassed the guard stations and avoided the surveillance. He knew that Homaru’s office was on the 88th floor, and also knew that his taskmasters had arranged for him to be in the office late this evening. Dru easily found the office and used the codes provided to enter. He silently opened the door and slid inside, his muscles tensing in anticipation of the job. He heard groaning from a room forward and to the right. There were two voices, both groaning, accompanied by the sound of squeaking. Now Dru understood how they had guaranteed Homaru would be here. On chair near the door, he saw a loose ribbon lying over a fancy card. He opened the card and read “To the Honorable Mr. Homaru, please accept this gift in thanks for all your hard work for Shiawase Corporation.”. The card was familiar to Dru, hadn’t he seen this somewhere before? No matter, he thought, focus on the task at hand. He could tell roughly where they were from the sounds they were still making. Hopefully he could this without too much mess. Better that he’s distracted, Dru thought, easier for me to sneak up. Dru silently drew his monofilament katana and crept into the next room. On the couch, naked he saw the back of a shapely female as mounted an aging Asian man, who was facing him. The man caught sight of Dru and began to try and rise, but the girl apparently thought it was just part of the game and rode him even harder, preventing him from getting up. Dru quickly closed the distance and swung the sword in an arc that would miss the girl and strike Homaru, but Homaru shoved the girl in the way in an attempt to save his life. The blade sliced through the girl and Homaru as if they weren’t there. Both bodies collapsed on the couch, as Dru stood there a bit shocked at what happened. He had done it. It hadn’t been perfect and he’d accidentally killed the girl as well, but he’d done the job. As he turned to go, he noticed a Zoe de Paris purse on the ottoman that looked very familiar, it had that same pink feather tassel that was on his stupid sister’s bag. Slowly, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he used the flat of his sword to turn over the head of the girl and his dead sister’s lifeless eyes staring up at him. He fled the building, not heeding the security, and due to his training avoided all guards and escaped into the night. He used the nuyen from his pack to buy a case of wine and found an alley and drank himself into a stupor. He never did manage to comm that code to indicate that he’d completed the job.
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