Chika Chika is a large, expansive underground black market operating in Rēgnī. Up until 3 months ago, it sold everything imaginable. Today, it sells everything imaginable except for sex slaves. Regular slaves are still sold, but sex slaves are not, seeing as since Chris silverstein saved the life of Chika's boss, Elleya Sycr, and she honored his only request. Chika has a massive selection of homebrew psychs and mods, which anyone would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere. Many of its patrons are female, making it a great place to pick up a date.

With entrances throughout the city, it is accessible to nearly anyone. Tunnels and lifts descend down to the main complex, far beneath the subway system.

Many of the merchants, and even Elleya herself rarely leave the complex, instead building full-scale homes and apartment complexes underground along with the shops that go on for miles. Beyond-state-of-the-art foundations support the city far above, leaving literally no chance of collapse.

You want it? Chika's got it!

[A skilled assassin is a valuable asset to have on your side. She'd never try to kill him, or at least not while sane.]

Elleya sat in her room, in her undergound house in the corner of Chika Chika, massaging her temples and wondering. She didn't even seem to be able to catch Chris' attention any more, save for when she called him to her house to give him an assignment. Could she assign him to like her? Probably not. He was an assassin, not a prostitute. And she probably wouldn't like him if he was. But she was envious of his sex life, specifically of who was included in it. Which was why she made Aina pay five hundred credits to meet him.

That's when she started considering Appshift. The surgery for the cutsom bones would be time-consuming and a little pricy, and then there was the psych itself. That was expensive, too. Even if she was the boss of Chika, which she was, she still wasn't exempt from paying for things. She'd get a ten percent discount, of course, but it was still expensive. Luckily she had been at this for a long time, so even expensive things didn't do much to hamper the wallet.

She ran her hands through her golden blonde hair, frustrated and anxious. Wasn't that a little too drastic? Surely she could figure something else out. She ran through her thoughts mentally. Came up with nothing. She decided to get the surgery tomorrow. For now, she'd think of what to shapeshift into...

Chris parked in an inconspicuous parking garage. He dismounted the bike and went for the elevator in the center of the garage, scanning an electronic pass that let him descend to Chika. The ride down was long, and his ears popped once on the way, but he'd grown used to this over the months.

Once underground, he went directly for Elleya's place, two underground blocks away. He passed numerous stalls and shops, some buildings, some simply a glorified lean-to, each selling anything from guns to dogs from puppy mills, from cybernetic eyes to bowls of soup, and everything else imagineable.

Chris caught sight of AICC 01, lifting an oversized crate into a panel van.

"Abby!" he said, patting his hand roughly on the AI's shoulder, "How goes the business, my little Bieber?"

"What is a 'Little Bieber,' Mr. Silverstein?" Abby replied in a clearly robotic voice, "To my understanding, the one called 'Justin Bieber' was little anyway. Do I resemble him at all?"

Chris laughed at this, "Well, no, except for your hair. It's what we call a Bieber Bowl, which is a style that died in 2010."

"It died?"

"Figure of speech. Don't worry about it, Abs."

"I am stomach muscles now?" Abby said.

Chris sighed. "Ehh, never mind. Is Elleya in her house?"

"No," Abby replied, "She left shortly before you arrived. I have been instructed to give you your assignment in her stead."

Abby touched his right hand to Chris' left, which initiated a beeping sound. Chris looked at the screen on his forearm. The target today was a thirty-two year old man who had been intercepting Chika's drug shipments. His name was Alden Demmik. Leader of a local minority drug ring, specializing in classic drugs like marajuana and cocaine. Some heroin, too. Apparently, he was an Adept with Red Lotus level 8 and Mind Freak #1. Ironic, that was, seeing as Red Lotus was only available here at Chika.

"I'll have him pushing daisies in four hours," Chris said, turning to leave.

(Alex, can you play Alden Demmik for me? I'm not the best at writing alone. If you play him, I can react better.)

Chris parked in the inconspicuous parking lot yet again. He deactivated his bike and went to the elevator, waving his hand in front of a nearly invisible scanner, activating the ride down into Chika Chika. It the same long ride down as usual, causing his ears to pop partway down, which of course, he was used to by now.

The elevator dinged as its doors split open, revealing the expansive underground city, which except for housing for the merchants, was all marketplace. A plethora of different sounds and smells were readily available directly out of the lift, soon followed by sights that nobody up on the surface of Regni could see.

Chris bought a bowl of beef stew on the way to Elleya's house, pausing to take a seat on a bench. He tapped a couple options on his left arm's phone screen, calling AICC 01, a.k.a. "Abby."

"Hello Mr. Silverstein," Abby said, "I trust that your calling indicates that the job is done?"

"Yep," Chris replied, "And I've told you to call me Chris."

"My apologies Chris. Please send me the footage right away."

"Already on it," Chris said, tapping the send option on his arm. A video of the fight with Alden, recorded with Chris' cybernetic eyes was digitally whisked away to Abby's own phone.

"He exploded," Abby said after a brief moment of silence.

"You're very observant."

"I am programmed to be."

"Did Elleya give you my money?" Chris asked.

"Yes. Please meet me at my apartment."

"On my way," Chris fibbed, hanging up. He scooped a spoonful of stew into his mouth, savoring its garlicky taste. He remained on the bench until he finished the stew, then dumped the disposable bowl and spoon in a crusher can.

Fifteen minutes later, he entered Abby's one room apartment. Everything within was either a computer or some other high-tech machine. Abby sat at one of the computers, studying a clip from Chris' mission. He kept zooming in on the part where the kunai severed the controls for Red Lotus. He turned at the sound of the door opening.

"Ah, Chris," he said, standing, "That kunai throw was amazingly accurate. I marvel at your ability to manage such a feat without the help of Arms Master."

"Not too shabby, eh?" Chris said, grinning.

"No, not shabby at all," Abby said, "In fact, it is quite amazing."

"Yeah, I'll accept that," Chris shrugged.

"Here is your money," Abby said, holding out a prepaid card. A label on the side read §1,000.

"Sweetness!" Chris said, taking the card. He'd add it to his account later. That left §500 to go. "Oh! Uh, why was Elleya out earlier today?"

"She instructed me not to tell you," Abby replied.

"I see." She always told Abby not to tell him things when she was planning something that she hoped would get her in bed with him. "Tell her I said 'good luck.'"

Chris nodded at Abby, raising the card in a sort of salute that meant 'See you later.' He started on his way back to the garage elevator. He was halfway there when a girl called out to him, which honestly was very normal. But he recognized the voice this time.

"Chris!" she said, "Remember me?"

"You're Raven, of course," he said, even before turning. He turned and saw that he was correct. "Didn't expect to find you down here. I can't peg you as the cave-dweller type."

She wore a red and black plaid miniskirt, trimmed in black lace at the edges. He could barely make out the shape of little crosses in the lace. Her belt hung loosely from her waist, appearing to be made entirely of bullets. Her black sleeveless button-down shirt appeared to mix both gothic and steampunk styling, and exposed her midriffs slightly. The seams at the shoulders also featured the black lace with crosses, and the pocket buttons were adorned with brass ones of gothic inspiration. She wore black leather boots, also in the "Gothpunk" style, as he decided to call it, which rose to just below her knees. One and a half inch heels. A large raven perched leerily on her shoulder, practically wearing her calf-length raven-colored hair like a cape. So much raven. But what was really striking about her were her eyes. Complete black with swirls of dark red and deep purple moving about within.

A less intelligent observer would mistakenly assume she was a blight based on this, which was stupid because blights looked just like everyone else.

"Hee hee, of course not," she said, "I came to see you, cutie."

"Ah," Chris said, "Although a black market isn't exactly the best place for a date..."

"I figured," She said, fake pouting, "What other options are there?"

Chris approached her, looking into her endless eyes, "Well there's always my place," he said seductively, "Got a ride?"

"I walked. I was hoping I could get one with you."

"Perfect," Chris said, kissing her on the mouth, then stepping back slightly, "Well then, fair maiden, shalt thou come along with me?"

She smiled, curtseying, "I shall."

Chris took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and led her the rest of the way to the elevator, making small talk along the way. He scanned his hand and they rode the elevator up to the surface, occupying the lost time with passionate kissing. At the top, he helped her onto his bike and gave her his only helmet, then made for home.

(The rest will be in the Chris' House thread.)

[And so begins Amara's introduction, and Marlena's.]

So this place is called Chika Chika... Marlena took one of the lifts and descended, into the underground city. I've heard of it, but I've never been here.

__________

Huh... So all I need to do is kill a cow-killer... sounds simple enough. I'll do it.

Amara turned away from the bulletin after memorizing the name of the merchant's store, something about beef.

[Chris, where are the beef guy's cows? Or does she have to ask him about it? And is this cow-killer god-mod able, or will you control him?]

(The cows are still in the cave, but near the far edge of Chika. Openings in the roof of the cave let natural light in, and someome has been rappeling down into the cow field and killing them, pretty much just for sport. Amara would have to take a public bus, which would be cheap. Two credits for a two-way ticket. A timestamp on the ticket would be given when she boards the bus, then another when she gets back in the bus after her job. If she wants a more private form of transportation, she can take a hovercraft, which is basically a circular flying vehicle, which in this case would serve as a taxi. About five credits for one ride.)

[Oh, and you can play the cow-killer.]

(Oh, and she's gonna need to stakeout the cow field and wait for the killer.)

4:30 AM.

Chris stepped out of the staff elevator to Chika Chika, laden down with blades of all sorts for today's mission. It was gonna be big.

He had his two Berserker swords - the ones that combine into the staff - strapped to his back in an X. He had a pair of aikuchi on his waist, behind him at his tailbone, and he had a katana on his right hip. His left hip carried his classic, the heavy saber. The sleeves of his long-sleeved Fender t-shirt were filled with kunai, about six in each sleeve. They were small kunai, worn as a bracelet.

He made his way to Abby's one-room apartment, where the other four assassins were already waiting for him. And Abby, too. Duh.

"Alright," Chris said, clapping his hands once like a school teacher, "This may be just a job, but I still like to start with names."

"What are you, my kindergarten teacher?" The asian guy said.

"That's right," Chris said, switching to drill seargent mode, "And since you're getting smart-** on me, I'll also tell you that I am your commander, so to speak."

"That's cool!" The youngest said, another asian, this time a girl.

"Right, so do you all already know the mission?"

"Bust into a building and kill everyone?" The pink-haired girl said, "I think we can handle that."

"I'll take that as a yes," Chris said, "Okay, so my name is-"

"Chris Silverstein," The pink-haired girl interrupted, "You're famous around here, you know."

"Am I? I never stop to ask people."

"They'd tell you if you did," the same girl said.

"Right, what's your name?" Chris said, giving her a friendly look that included a bit of seductivity.

She must have caught it, because she smiled and briefly averted her eyes. "Serah McRein."

"It's a pleasure," Chris said.

"Isn't that my line?" Serah said.

"I dunno, is that canon?"

"Most likely."

...

"Ooh, ooh, me next!" The small asian girl said, "My name is Nicolina Anette."

"Nice to meet you," Chris said, smiling at her.

Her face split into a wide, beaming grin at that.

"Furukawa Sho," The asian guy said.

"Roman Symon," The massive guy said.

"Alright, now that we got that out of the way, let's go over minor details."

"Minor like, 'which door do we go in?'" Sho said.

"Pretty much. This is a pretty cut-and-dry mission."

"I think we can handle that detail when we get there."

...

"Right," Chris said, "Okay, sure, that's fine. Let's all get breakfast before we go."

As if on cue, Abby brought over a folding table with spaghetti on five plates.

"Spaghetti for breakfast?" Nicolina said.

"Football players do it," Chris said, shrugging, "It works for them doesn't it?"

"True," She said, "Okay! Let's dig in!"

About thirty minutes later, the group was done and on their way to the Chinatown exit. They should arive by 5:45.

[Are we using this thread for Chinatown, or should I make a new one?]

(I was thinking just using the Regni thread.)

[meh... I'll play out part of the travel, but for the most part I'll stick with Marlena's subplot...]

Amara had memorized the location that the bulletin had specified. It's a long way from here...I'll need a ride... She then set herself to the task of hailing a hovercraft, or rather, "hovercab". A few minutes and she was on her way.

_______________

The meeting place was in some quaint, anonymous bar. Marlena didn't care for the name of it, only how to reach it, which was fairly easy. Her "employer" had given her a map. She made her way there in ten minutes on foot, already starting to dislike the somewhat cramped, claustrophobia-inducing tunnels of this...city. If they could call it that.

She stepped inside the bar and blinked at the sudden wave of sights and smells. Alcohol. Cigarette smoke. Hushed conversations at the nearby tables. Eyes flickering up to register her presence, then going back to their own business. There weren't many patrons, though.

The man she was looking for, her "friend," sat at a table by himself. He was in his mid forties; still in shape, he could take on someone less than half his age, but the years showed in his hair, black speckled with gray throughout, all of it slicked back.

"Hey!" he half shouted. "You made it. Nice to see you again."

Marlena approached his table, taking a seat. "Save the banter, Michael. What's the job?"

"Ow. Not even a hint of acknowledgement? I'm hurt... and after I helped you out on that stint last year."

Marlena sighed and seemed to melt into the seat. "Just tell me what the job is, damn it."

"Don't you want a drink first?" Michael grinned when he saw Marlena shoot him a death glare. "Just kidding, geez. Alright, so here it is." He reached for a suitcase at his feet, something Marlena hadn't seen. He brought it on the table and opened it to reveal a manila envelope. "This is for you." He closed the suitcase and pushed it across the table towards her.

Marlena took it. "These are all targets?" She raised an eyebrow.

"No. They're 'colleagues'. Go through it when you get a chance. In the meantime, I need to get going. I'll contact you with the first target later."

Michael stood and left the bar, and Marlena left not long after. She headed for the lift she'd came in on before, planning to get a look once she reached the hotel she was planning to stay at.

[Gonna post in Cado's Apartment?]

[Will do ASAP.]

Marlena hailed a hovercraft cab. Once inside, she took out the contents of the suitcase. Opened the manila envelope. Pulled out several pieces of paper stapled together. She skimmed through it for the duration of the ride, planning to be more thorough once she reached the hotel.

She locked the door to her room once she was inside, then took out the papers again, this time taking out the staple and spreading them over her bed, so she could look at them all at once.

Eight 'colleagues' that I need to find... interesting. She absently tapped one of the papers, listing a man named Johnathan Wolfe. I'll start with this one...

___________

Amara had already brought her weapons with her, in a duffel bag. Even then, she didn't want to take a bus. Too risky, in her opinion. She left the hovercab and walked a little further, reaching her destination. She took a semi-automatic rifle from the duffel bag, found a suitable place to hide in the rocks, and waited. She was on a small "hill" of rock, overlooking the cattle in the distance, so she didn't think she'd have a problem spotting anything out of the ordinary. A few rays of light entered through several holes in the roof, which was why Amara hadn't needed to bring NV goggles. Instead she took out a camera to watch over the area, the same as she was doing. If the client wanted proof, he'd get it.

The real problem was waiting... An hour. Two hours. She was ready to doze off when she spotted something in the distance: a rope or cord of some sort, dropping and dangling from one of the holes in the cave's roof. A moment later, a figure began to rappel down.

Amara gripped the rifle with renewed strength and set the video camera to record. She waited. Wouldn't want to kill someone who wasn't the target. Instead, she would wait for probable cause, which in this case would be whether or not this man was armed.

The man drew a rifle of his own and knelt, aiming at the closest cow.

Yep. He's armed, which means he's my target. Amara peered down the scope of her rifle and settled the crosshairs on the man's chest, favoring the right side a little. She fired twice. The man dropped his rifle and fell, and it seemed that he was dead. Amara took no chances. She reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a pistol and a mine, slung the rifle over her back, and then approached, with the camera in her other hand. Her pace was slow, light-footed. I'd rather not get caught off guard.

She reached the man and took aim at his foot, firing once. It was really just to see if he was faking death or not. He didn't react, so he probably wasn't. She pulled out the mine and tossed it on the man's stomach, then walked to a safe distance before mashing the detonator button.

She recorded the whole event, including the explosion, then took her gear and left for a hovercraft ride to the client's restaurant. [She'll be there when your character gets there, Chris.]

* * *

(Amara's gonna have to be inactive for a few days, inevitably. The RIB sub-plot will take a few days of writing time, kinda like the sub-plot of the attack on Izzy took a couple weeks to write.)

[I'm fine with that. Amara's a little ahead of your plotline, so once your sub-plot's done, Chris can arrive and Amara will be right here. Post when you are ready.]

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