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Gracia complied handily and stepped into the car. As they entered the warehouse and got to the door, she again complied, this time with a shrug. Reasonable request. "Well, if you find you don't like my reasons, you can just shoot me. That guy that died in Neutra in front of the boxing club? I was doing a job for him. I'm not gonna get paid. I'm over it, because I did get to pester the company I was hacking, but I'd still like a few answers. I saw you at the seen, you looked like a professional. Hell, you've shown me that much. I wouldn't start beef with you if you killed my boyfriend - by the way, I'm single right now, if you're wondering. My last boyfriend hit me, I shot him in the face. You look like a guy I wouldn't want to piss off, so I figure, you need a hacking job done? I could help you on one of your own jobs if I get a cut. I'm just looking for work, I need to make a living." She looked around to take in her surroundings. Really good hideout.
 
A man punching her was, well, rather expected. She usually had multiple men punching her through the course of a week. As the man swung his fist towards her face, she, admittedly, didn't really have time to dodge or block. He was way too up close and personal to do that. His fist slammed into her cheek and drove her head a bit to the side. A small bit of blood came from her cut lip, but most importantly, it looked like she wasn't even fazed by the drunk man's blow. If anything, she only looked pissed, as her face came back to glare right back at him as if nothing changed.

Gwen glanced over to the police officer standing nearby, and said, "Self-defence?" The police officer shrugged, and rubbed his fingers together in that sign that had been around since the days of old, and in many ways, was the motto of this level of the city: If you got the cash to pay for it, you can do whatever the hell you want. She only grinned, as a mental command was directed once more towards her endoskeleton. A voice announced in her head, "Full power." , as she brought back the power fist with a mighty hiss coming from it from the pneumatic pistons that delivered one hell of a punishing blow to whatever she hit.

Suddenly, she slammed the fist towards the man's guts with a cry, the wide metallic fist punching straight towards him with the unstoppable fury of a freight train, the pistons slamming forwards within the power fist and driving the fist to a downright impossible speed and strength, the electric motors screaming within the mighty contraption as the pride of the cybernetic boxing world did its magical work.

If it connected, chances are good the man had most of his internal organs ruptured, if not dead on impact. There was also a strong chance that her hand would just go straight through the guy, but hey. Maybe he was tougher than he looked.
 
He nodded. "Yeah, that guy. Sorry about that. I pushed him off the building, and got paid for it. I'm not one to be messed with but I don't take advantage of people unless it directly benefits me. I'll pay you what he would've, if you want. As for needing a living, you and me both. You're welcome to stay here if you don't have a home of your own. I don't get much company." he placed his hands on his lower back and pushed his chest forward while leaning his head back, a movement that resulted in several pops from his spine that made him need to catch his breath. "Alright, I got what wanted out of you, now you'll get what you wanted. Helm, unlock." Four jets of steam erupted from the sides of his helmet and it popped up slightly. He reached up and removed the helm, revealing his face to the girl. "Like I mentioned before, I'm Caesar. Caesar Ultera. And what do you call yourself?" he asked, looking her in the eyes.
 
Green eyes watched as the guy's fist connected with the woman's face. Her hands went up to cover her mouth which was hanging open in shock. Not because she had just witnessed a guy punch a woman, that was something she had seen many times before. Hell, even she had been struck a few times. Though she never would have admitted how happy she was when some guy with human hands did it and then howled in pain as his hand broke against her cheek. Just one of the benefits of having a full cybernetic body.

Her hands lowered from her mouth as the woman looked at the guy and then over to an officer that was not too far off. She said something to the cop, who only lifted his hand and gave the universal sign for money. So if she paid him, then no matter what this woman did, he would look away and act as though it had not happened? That was a terrible thing for a so-called cop to do! But Resic watched as the woman looked back at the drunk. Her large fist pulled back and then connected with his gut, the thing going straight through him and out the backside. A few people around them shouted in fear and disgust; nearly all of them moving back so there was a wide open space around the woman and the drunk. Resic's mouth was hanging open and her eyes were wide as she stared at what happened. That woman had just shoved her fist through his body as though it had been nothing! Just who the hell was she? More importantly, what the hell was she?
 
Gracia looked at him with a smirk. He was certainly handsome. "Name's Gracia Sinclaire. You may have heard my last name somewhere. Used to live in Forma, and I still have a small nest egg I use for ammunition and when I need special equipment. It's dwindling slowly, so I try to keep my living expenses on my salary. My family's trying to kick me out of the mansion, which is what I mean by used to, so I'm going to need a place to stay eventually anyway. Thanks for the offer. As for you paying me, I don't feel right taking creds without working for 'em. I'm a Sinclaire, we work for our money, we don't take donations. That job was for the guy you killed, not for you. You owe me nothing. Still, though, you need a hacker, I'm down. You need me to give you my digits in case you find a job you need me for?" She was a mover and a shaker. And a bit of a nymphomaniac - which is why she was being kicked out of Mans Sinclaire. And also why she was eager to get into Caesar's pants. "You and me, C, we can be a great team. I can be your birds eye and your infiltrator, and I can hold my own in a fight. You can be the killer, the guy on the ground, and the one nobody sees. I can infiltrate any terminal, mindjack any cyborg, and I have a special virus of my own design. Hell, I'm an amateur Robotic Engineer. You need me to make you a decoy bot, I got your back. I just need some materials and a bit of time, but I can try to have them ready when you need them."
 
Caesar stoked his chin as he considered her offers and name. "Sinclaire. Yeah, I heard of you. Bunch of uppity Forma bastards. You're the 'black sheep', I suppose, so I won't hold your heritage against you. We got a deal. You stay here and we work together. Sounds nice. Actually, I could use a hacker. This one bastard's been bugging me to hack his girl's system to see if she's been cheating on him and kill her if she is, which is actually a job for someone else, but he insists I do it. Since I don't know how to hack and you obviously do, I'll let you hack her computers and I'll kill her if she's a cheater. It's a low grade job, but credits are credits." he considered, before adding "Helm, fetch the guy's contacts and ask him if he still wants it done. If he says yes, give us an hour to prep." he got up, running his hands through his short, brown hair. "You want some coffee? I could use a cup myself." he said, making his way into the kitchen. "Something to eat?"
 
A grin stretched across Gracia's face. Cheaters. "I don't like cheaters. Even I can control myself when I'm involved with someone. I'll be glad to help." And it was true. Whenever she was in a relationship, she made herself exclusive. If she needed help with a problem, she went to her boy at the time. Sadly, a lot of the guys she'd been with were just looking for something to bone - except that one guy. He was a really nice lad. Gave her chocolates regularly, took her out on dates. He was killed by an assassin hired by her family. She was glad to be leaving. She did in fact agree that they were a bunch of uppity Forma bastards. She was one of them and she hated them. When offered coffee, Gracia simply waved it off. "Neuroprocessors, doll. If I need it, I can trigger a burst of adrenaline to keep me going. Besides, I prefer tea. I'll take something to eat, though. Whatcha got for grub?"
Aeon arrived by hovercar in Neutra. The crime scene was still heavy. In fact, someone else just died as he set his car down. A bit of blood splattered on the fresh paint. That made a terrible first impression for the girl who killed the man. He grunted and stepped to the spot. He tried to wipe it off with his finger, but it smeared in the recently dried paint.

"That's a new paintjob, girly." He looked to the boxer bitch, his voice reverberated unnaturally - although it was natural for him. "You better have a good explanation for this gore on my car."

He was not happy. As an emancipated mutant, things that many Noblemen could afford were expensive for him. He had to purchase the luxury hovercar simply to appear more professional and less like rabble. In fact, that car probably kept a lot of angry Noblemen away from his front gate. He was used to fighting one on one, not an entire peanut gallery of innocent idiots. In fact, the fact that he had the car kept a lot of people from even looking into who he was. He was just a lower class Nobleman. People tended to not care about the Mutant bit.

So this girl had sort of drained vital funds from his pocket. He could put his life on the line and volunteer for a match in the ring for pay, or take a job, but there were no jobs, and other mutants hit harder than humans did.
 
Caesar shrugged as he looked over the counter back into the living room. "Burgers. Chinese. Steak. Some dea- I'm not even going to question why there's human flesh in my fridge. I drank a lot the other night. So, what'll have ya?" he asked, pulling off his nanofiber top armor. Underneath he wore a black t-shirt with green circuit board patterns on it. "I wouldn't suggest the mansteak, but you can have it if you want." he joked.
 
After the man's guts had been, well, well splattered over the surrounding area, she withdrew her power fist from the innards of the now-dead drunk, taking out a small towel from her backpack and wiping down the inner workings of the power fist rather quickly. As to what she was, well, she appeared to be a brick shithouse in terms of taking a punch without flinching and then literally disemboweling a guy with a single blasting punch. But all comments aside, she was a regular woman, although tough as nails and with a nice bit of cybernetic assistance.

After cleaning off the mighty power fist, she dug in her pocket for a brief moment for a bit of cash, and offered it up to the police officer that oh so nicely decided to look the other way as she totally ruined this one guy's world. Regardless, she sighed, and turned back to look at the big fellow as he commented angrily upon the precious state of his poor widdle vehicle.

"Lissen here. This ass was chasing a girl down. He punched me. I punched back. You wanna make a deal outta it? I'll ruin your day." She scowled angrily, that blazing look of defiance burning away in her eyes like a towering spectacle of, well, anger. She had enough shit to deal with today, what with the murdered guy, the drunk guy, and now this big-ass bastard showing up in the middle of the area talking shit. Even if he was a mutant, she didn't give too much of a damn. She boxed mutants before. No big deal. Of course, that was when she had both power fists on, and right now, she only had one.
 
The motorcycle sped toward the city, the outlying Suburbs were covered in pollution, a stark contrast to the neon covered Obelisk that tore the sky a new one. The Interstate immediately split into four exits leading to the city, the man on the motorcycle's agenda was to Upper Regalia, his package however wasn't, with calculated precision, the man ejected 863 from the side of the motorcycle just as the split of neutra and upper occurred in the road. 863 started rolling fast tumbling like a lone tire down a hill. It wasn't long till the road met the monolith. 863 began to slow down as it deployed a foam ahead of itself. Eventually 863 stopped next to a dumpster and deployed.
………
JM 863-S Online
………
Jordan gained control, here he was, Regalia, shit hole from top to bottom, he needed to start here in Neutra to find revolutionaries, people who wanted to see this place burn, people to help him raise funds. He needed experienced people, he needed a team.

He needed to keep a low profile, but he needed to make his way deeper into the Neutra sector to find the people he was looking for. 863 headed into the alleyway and climbed up the wall to something resembling a roof "at least there seems to be some space between this layer and the next." It had some fake stars that didn't resemble the natural night sky. How sad. 863 leapt from structure to structure keeping itself out of sight, the only evidence it left was a bit of roof damage. The GPS eventually tracked him to about the center of the slum. 863 hid on the roof of a building and started spying on people.
 
Well, she had her reasons. That was a bit of respect. And it was protecting someone from a potentially bad future. Even as a Nobleman, Aeon was still a warrior, and though his mind was tainted in the ring, he was still a man, and he had honor. He cracked his neck side to side and smiled - although it was hard to tell he was smiling. "I suppose your reasons are good enough, but I still have a spot on my fresh paint. How about a wager. Both of us hold back, not because either of us is weak, but because we need to stay alive. You know - to collect? This paint job cost me 4,000 creds. How much you got on you? Winner takes all." He took out his wallet and flashed a few thousand credits to show he was good. "If you've got a couple thousand, I'll fight you for it. You just got out of a fight, you should be good for it."
 
The apartment shook violently with the rave music coming from the large speakers within. The beast like humanoid was inside as well, typing away at the laptop that sat on the metallic desk in front of him. He could have been using his neurological computer but he would rather not hack on it unless needed to. Jaxer considered his brain device to be used on jobs only, and found the laptop in front of him to be more fun for hacking anyways. The hacker's eyes scanned the computer screen, thinking of what site should be his next target. A glint of excitement came into his eyes and his mouth formed into a grin before his fingers rapidly yet precisely typed on his keyboard. He rapidly searched for major Forma Regalia sites and scrolled through the list, his head banging to the rave music within his apartment.

As his computer searched he spun his leather chair around before stretching out his wings, his tail lightly sweeping against the ground to the beat. He pressed his face against the screen before he saw it finish loading, and he smiled with glee. Jaxer removed his face from the screen, his eyes scanning over the many Forma Regalian sites and randomly clicked on one, not caring about what he was going to hack tonight. His non precise click took him to a rather peculiar site. It was a site that had a picture of the Forma Regalian police department and his facial features turned into that of a nonsensical maniac. He checked the toolbar at the bottom right of his laptop screen, making sure his personalized VPN (Virtual Private Network) was active. Seeing that it was indeed so, he got to work. He clicked upon the site login, his hands typing at lightning fast speeds - or so it seemed. Injecting many sequences of code brought him to the location of the user database, and he found one user that made him happy. It was the Chief of the Forma Regalian police departments information and he quickly copy and pasted it into the same site's login on a different tab. As he saw the login work, he quickly modified the main page to where it showed a large phallus encircling the very world they inhabited. Adding the caption "Let me put you into my orbit - The Hacking Heckler." His alias was known throughout many message boards, and Jaxer was very notorious indeed. If the Forma Regalian police thought they were going to find out who he was then tough luck. The VPN rerouted any attempts to track his location to another one within the south side of the Forma Regalian sector.

His fun for the night was over and he would check tomorrow to see if any message boards saw his message. Most of them probably would and he thought it was pretty fun to be famous for a bad reason but he didn't care. He was getting his name out there and that is all that matters. He swung his chair around to face the flat screen television behind him and he pressed both index fingers down in the air, activating the television. Most TVs of this day could now be turned on with motion movement and he enjoyed this feature. He didn't even need a remote for he could just scroll up and down with his index finger within the air and that is exactly what he did. Jaxer went to the news channel, seeing that a killing happened by a boxing club within Neutra Regalia.

"What! A crime happening in MY Neutra Regalia?! How can this be!"

He smiled, obviously knowing that he was contradicting himself but he did not care. The hacker needed some fresh air, and he decided that the crime scene would be a perfect place for him to cause mischief. Instead of going through his door like a normal individual he went out his window, flying through the air and towards the local boxing club. Running along the buildings would have been more fun but he did not care, he wanted to get there fast. Finally arriving at the crime scene, he landed by the woman boxer with large gloves and the mutant. Not seeing either as a threat at the moment he decided to be a nuisance. Hell, he may be able to get work from those two anyways, especially the mutant. The car behind him showed that he was pretty important, or at least to Jaxer it did.

"Guess who? It's JAXER!"​
 
Roslyn continued to watch; more people arriving from other sectors, that boxer girl killed the drunk, nothing much else. A pang of anger twitched in her heart as she observed some vandals not too far from the crime scene chucking rocks at one of her cameras. She pressed the button for her mic to activate and shouted down to them.

"Step away from the camera. " her voice filters made this sound like an automated message.

"Whatcha gonna do!? Shoot us!?" The lead one drunkly chortled.

"Precisely that." She replied before activating the camera's defence system, it automatically targeted the lead and sent a cluster of bullets through his chest, leaving him falling to the ground as the others tried to run away. One was shot in the back, the other shot in the skull, their bodies fell not too far from the others, and the drunk mans body on the floor.
 
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She had done it? This woman had practically destroyed a guy and all because he had been chasing her! Resic felt that she was no longer in danger, so why not just turn around and head back home? She could easily just give a smile and a nod, then run home and not come out till she needed money again. Which would not be too long from now since she had another payment to make to the Artificer that had given her her body. But even as she thought these thoughts, her body began to weave back through the throng of bodies that had collected over time. Making her way back toward the woman who had helped save her. But as she drew closer, her features now back to their original state, she took note that she was not talking to some other guy. And apparently the conversation was not going in the best of directions. She had stepped up next to them as the guy had finished talking about fighting her for a couple of thousand. She had just killed a man with a single punch, was this brute really wanting to go head-to-head with her?

"Both of you please, do not fight." Could she really talk them out of fighting? Sure she was a cyborg, but she doubted she could really do much damage to them. Either way, she had to try. Black eyes went from one to the other as she lifted her hands toward both of them. The gesture was one of her trying to calm them down. Compared to both of them she seemed so small in her knee-length black coat and her black heels. Beneath the coat she wore a small and revealing dress, but the thing was hard to see when the coat was buttoned up as it was. She turned to the male, who was obviously a mutant [which did not bother her in the least] and gave him a imploring look. "Whatever damage was done...I will pay for it. Just don't kill yourselves over something so trivial." Did she really have the money to pay for it? Not at all. Sure she had some stashed away for an emergency, but she wanted to avoid using that. But what if he demanded something else of her? What he demanded that she pay with her body? Then to help keep both of these people alive, she would hold her head high and agree.

Her mouth opened to speak again, hoping to convince them both to stop what they were doing, but was interrupted as someone suddenly appeared with them. My their little scene was starting to draw some attention. As the new male appeared out of seemingly nowhere next to her, Resic could not help but flinch a bit at his sudden appearance. Her flinching causing he to take a step closer to the mutant male as though she were seeking protection from him; her black eyes no longer focusing on the woman and mutant, but the new person that had joined them. "Jaxer?" She said in a low questioning voice.
 
Now, all this talk of honor was all well and good, and Gwen had a fair bit of honor to her herself. Admittedly, it was more the scrappy kind of honor like 'don't kick a guy when he's down' and 'don't bite the hand that feeds you', but eh, close enough, right? This guy in front of her's face looked ugly. Didn't look much better when he smiled, either. Mutants weren't known for their pretty looks, after all, and this one, well, he wasn't really an exception. She looked a bit roughed up, what with a few bruises on her and a bloodied lip, but that wasn't much of a big deal. Not for her, anyways.

With her endoskeleton, she was a hell of a lot tougher than she looked, although cuts and punctures were, obviously, more of a danger to her than anything else. And it kinda sorta looked like this mutant guy had some wicked sharp claws. Could give her a run for her money if she didn't keep her guard up with her hands. Oh well. Regardless, she had to get on her other power fist in order to actually fight anyone at all.

She shrugged once, and lifted the other power fist from her pack, removing her left hand with a few screw adjustments and sliding on the heavy power fist with a satisfying *click*. Her hands now looked, well, extraordinarily disproportionate to the rest of her body, which was kind of the point. The heavy power fists were meant to be both a method of punching, AND a method of defense. By "putting her dukes up", she could cover a large chunk of her body with the metal of them.

"Pff. What, you want a legitimate fight? Juuuust had to get my other fist on." She grinned wildly, as she suddenly jumped back as Jaxer landed down out of, well, seemingly nowhere. She looked rather nervously at the giant bat horned something or other, whatever he was, it was kinda confusing. "And who the fuck're you?" She rested her fists by her side. Normally, she'd keep them up, but that made her tired, and wore down the servos on her endoskeleton, so it wasn't efficient to do so.

And it seemed like the girl who she saved came back to stop them from fighting. She snorted once as she shifted more towards the mutant, shrugging once. Didn't make a bit of difference to her if she wanted to shack up with some mutant. Whatever.
 
Aeon maintained his twisted smile and readied his gladiator stance, when a small woman came up and tried to get them to stop fighting. She looked troubled. Weak. Unhappy. Neutra was a bad place for her to live. His smile faded as the woman implored him with credits and pleas. He did not need her money. He did not intend on killing this boxer. To his knowledge, the boxer did not intend on killing him. "I don't intend to kill her... It was just going to be a friendly scrap... I...!"

Then came the gas-masked batboy from the skies he fell, along with his car. This punk went by the monicker of 'Jaxer'. Was he supposed to be impressed? "Who the fuck are you, vermin?" His neutral expression turned into a frown. It wasn't as ugly as his smile, but it wasn't pretty, either. It was really scary. Jesus Christ, I cannot describe to you how scary this guy's frown is. The boxer had the exact same idea as him, which made him smirk, then frown again.
"I'll take the game steak, love. You might want to get rid of the man steak - preferably in someone else's hideout. Better to frame some poor prick than get invaded and find cannibal food in the fridge." Gracia found herself wondering why he had human meat in his fridge. He didn't look like a cannibal. He was too hot to eat people. "So what's the deal with this job? I just gotta hack a civ's PC and check their IM messages? Social Media, et cetera? No wanking around with anything else, just see if the broad's a cheater?"
 
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Another civilian walked by, another car pulled up. Jaxer, the so-called 'Bat-boy' had returned also, on screen five. Others stood on the street. The vandal's bodies lay on the floor, Morikei walked past, taking a glance at their bodies then looking up at her camera and shrugging as if to say 'why?'. A siren went off in the distance, Roslyn attempted to call him.

"James Allis Morikei get your ass up here now before the cops think you did it!" She shouted down her mobile

He nodded at the camera and put away his phone before running towards the apartment building, bolting up the stairs and knocking on her door, Roslyn let him in as she watched the cops pull up beside the 'Bat-boy's' car, beginning to investigate the scene.

"Aren't you going to conceal the camera?" He reminded her, Roslyn nodded and took out a control panel, hitting a specific code of functions, causing the camera to close up and switch off, now hidden from the sight of the Police.

Roslyn then swiveled her chair back to Morikei, handing him his money. "Thanks for the spray painting, it probably won't do much, but hey, better than nothing I guess."
 
The sound of sizzling meat could be heard as the regular steak was thrown into a pan, and a thunk and several clangs as the human flesh was dumped down a chute. "I have an incinerator for that. As for the girl, some more in-depth code cracking might be needed. The guy is a programmer from Upper, so his girl would know a thing or two about hiding files behind secure code. Need you to break them, and look for anything that could be deciphered as hidden messages to a secret lover. How do you like your meat?"

His helmet pinged loudly, making it's announcement in a surprisingly stereotypical British male voice. "Message sent and reply received, Lord Caesar. Albert Guavera, the client in question, has stated that yes, his offer remains on the table. I have also alerted him you will begin the assignment within the hour." Caesar turned so his voice could be heard. "Thank you, helm. Hear that, Gracia? We get to hunt a Cheetah!" he chuckled at his own bad pun and finished cooking the steaks. "Old fashioned way of making the things, but I find it tastes better. Well, for whatever the hell they pass off as meat these days, anyway. This lab-grown shit tastes different from organic, but it's a hell of a lot cheaper." he admitted, cutting and taking a bite of his own medium-rare 'beef'.
 
Gracia was about to say that she likes her meat rare when the helmet sounded off. She wasn't concerned about the difficulty. Upper Programmers were no trouble for her. She just needed some time to secure access. If there was any resistance, surely she wouldn't have to hold her own, with him around. Not that she wasn't used to that. "Was that... Was that a pun...? Tch." She giggled inside, but seemed outwardly unimpressed. The only way you could tell she enjoyed it was the smirk on her lips. "Yeah, if you bought organic, you'd probably have to live contract to contract. Still, though, cattle ranchers in Forma make huge profits for selling their beef at the prices they do. Especially since most of the buyers are from Forma anyway. This is probably the third time I'll have ever had synthetic." She took a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, and the way she ate really showed her upbringing through. Her arms were at her side, her elbows behind the counter. She looked elegant for once, instead of edgy and slick. Even as a rude girl, she was still from Forma. She focused her eyes on her food, and her prosthetic arm worked very naturally. She was wondering a bit why he hadn't asked why she had such a high-tech prosthetic. She had a great story about mutants and why the Sinclaires don't buy them anymore, but nobody seemed to ask. She remembered for a moment that she was in Neutra where the streets are a warzone and people lose limbs regularly. Most of them don't get as good prosthetics as she did, though.
 
Jet's shift ended soon and he started for his home. He was annoyed, he wished for more. His father Erik Tamrin was a merchant who sold devices that could attach to a suit like the one that Jet wore now. They played music, could give you new updates, and a couple of other things. He was a simple man, but that didn't mean he never did business on the side. There was a gang from Lower Regalia who he often sold arms to, and he made enough money off of that to expand his business. It was around fifteen when his father started to get into trouble. It wasn't big trouble by police standards, but if he didn't make enough money his business would not make enough money to support his family. Jet wasn't really a man to fight, well not even a man yet, but his father needed him. They decided to meet in a dark alleyway to settle things, it was movie like almost. He was given a shotgun and a vest to be able to help keep him alive. They ended up fighting with only a couple gunshot wounds and then went home. A day later Erik was arrested and Jet was sent to a Juvenal facility for a year. Jet came back out with a new perspective on life, he hated the system. Soon he would get a suit and work for the lowlifes of Neutra Regula, and slowly die inside.

On his way home he passed by a group of people arguing with each other. He indulged himself by listening in, and watching what they were doing.
 
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