(OPEN) High Riders: Crashing the Party

Though no one had actually been caught in the action, news had spread quickly nonetheless. Rumors were flying in the underground scene about a carrier ship and its swarm of fighters that had passed through the space near San Fransokyo, and how it had devoured the majority of what seemed like a small travelling fleet. People had been inspired, and some certain groups had gotten ideas as to where they might take their next conquest. Of course, none of them had gotten far just yet. Only one had gotten particularly close.


Tamiyo hummed a bit to herself as she cradled some sort of gun in her lap, though the sound was drowned out easily by the engine, as she was sat in the back of a covered truck. What sort of gun it was, exactly, was unknown to her. Could've been a shotgun, could've been some kind of rifle. All she care was that it'd shoot stuff when she pulled the trigger. Across from her sat the illustrious Porkchop, portly as ever and yet somehow reaching an elbow over his massive gut to plant against his knee, supporting the palm atop which his chin rested. His face was covered by the same snouted gas mask he always wore, and what hair could be seen was tied into a rough topknot at the back of his scalp.

"You think they'll have caught on?" Tamiyo asked her recently-appointed first mate as she adjusted the bulky vest she'd been wearing. She and the rest of the crew aboard were fully decked out in sets of body armor some friends had 'donated' (stolen) from the local police. She was among the few who weren't wearing the helmet just yet. They totaled at about ten, but together they had the defensive and offensive equipment to equate to about twenty, what with how many guns each had strapped onto their body. Boxes of filled magazines for a variety of weapons were stacked neatly near the end of the space opposite of the exit, ready for anyone to pull from if they somehow ran out. Of course, they were all sure that wouldn't be much of a concern anyway.

Porkchop shifted his head sluggishly, moving it this way and that in as close to a shake as he could while keeping it firmly against his hand. "They think we're a fresh truck of Gummi blocks," he explained. "Instead, we give'em an apocalypse." He gave a quick. wheezy laugh at what probably sounded like some sort of clever poetry in his head. In his free hand, he twirled a chain, at the end of which was a large hook that bore three rivets which poked into the inside of the arc. The chain wrapped around to his side, where the rest of it had been piled in a massive pocket in his trousers. It was his latest masterpiece, and according to his words before they departed, he planned to put it to good use. On the seat next to him, his gigantic hand shotgun rested alone, the barrel stuffed with spare screws, bolts and other things that had been lying around the engineering bay. It was more of a small blunderbuss than anything else.

Mika had been in a cop outfit before, but none this enclosed and heavy. She had little trouble putting them on as they were close to the gear the old gang used, albeit more advanced, though it all fit the same way. Alex didn't struggle with it either, though with the added weight, both of them would suffer a little slowdown with everything they strapped on, but boy did they miss the feeling of being under quality armor. It was almost like they could take down the whole police force with these.

Mika still kept her scarf though. The headset with the long rabbit ear attachments were placed into storage since it wasn't exactly compatible with the helmet and no matter how much she tried, it only caused discomfort when both were worn, and the goggles felt a little redundant with the helmet visor available.

"How's the new stuff feeling?" she whispered to her sister, sitting right beside her.

"Nostalgic... but comfy"

"Good. 'Cause I'd like to wear this on every heist myself."

It did remove that one advantage she had though, and it wasn't maneuverability. She could move fine with this on. But what she did lose however was the display of her skin, which she used to catch her enemies' eyes. A little bit of arousal slows down reaction times, so it gave her an air of safety when confronting enemies. It was a dirty tactic, using people's base desires to get them killed, but it was a fun exploit.

"So, are we killing everyone here, or are we taking some prisoners to abuse later?"

Tamiyo gave her a bit of a puzzled look at the question. "Oh, we're not here to just shoot people up and leave," she clarified. "We're just thinkin' to make some new friends, is all. Isn't that right, Porky?" The ever-shirtless man in question nodded loudly (somehow). "The guns are a backup. Insurance." He picked up his own, fiddling with the different latches and ensuring the wad of junk was arranged in just the right manner for him to fire. In truth, it didn't matter so long as it was somewhere in the breach, but he had a habit for perfecting just about anything that wasn't his own physical fitness.

As if the conclusion of the statement were a signal, the engine eased off and the vehicle slowed. Tamiyo bounced a bit in her seat, visibly eager to get the ball rolling. "Ooooooh, looks like this might be our stop..."


It was bad enough that there so many delays in this shipment's schedule, but even on the day they finally got it in, they still managed to show up late. A certain officer of a certain recipient group was looking forward to getting the exchange finished up and getting back home to practically drown himself in his choice of mind-altering drink. As he approached the shutter at the back of the truck, and met with the engineer there to sort out the specifics, he contemplated what, exactly, he'd choose. Perhaps something sweet would do well for his mood. He wasn't even paying that much attention to the supposed negotiations, and numbers just flew by his ears as he casually yes'd the deal away. Once he knew the merchandise was there, he could give whatever price he wanted. After all, nobody in the area had guns, and the poor engineer who brought the stuff was alone. The eight men behind him would be more than enough to help 'talk out' a special arrangement later on.

Well this was disappointing. Here they were, decked out and fully armed, and they couldn't even let loose the havoc. As a playful gesture, her sister switched on the safety on Mika's gun without a word, but she just couldn't stop herself from cracking a sweet smile. Mika just shot her a deadpan look as she switched the safety back off while holding said look, which did little to affect the smile.

Once they reached their designated stop, Mika and Alex adjusted their helmets, doing final checks to make sure their gear didn't fail them when they needed it most. Standard practice really, something she hoped the others have learned already, or all this new gear would be no use at all.

Their guns were ready, fingers right next to the trigger as their hands tightened around the grip. Though one had to wonder how they were going to make new friends like this. Wherever they ended up, there was bound to be armed guards, but at least there were bodies in front of Mika to absorb the bullets if that scenario would take place. Always good to know she could count on someone for that...

Footsteps approached from outside the draping which concealed the outside, coming up the cargo ramp. Tamiyo's face lit up, and she had to physically cover her mouth to keep from laughing when she realized who it was. The footfalls were firm, unlike the tentative steps of the borderline elderly man who'd driven them there. No, this was the recipient who was waltzing up the ramp toward them.

With slow, silent steps, she departed from her seat and stood in front of the curtain, waiting for the footsteps to come close enough, and then...


There was no real warning. A boot sailed out from inside the vehicle, catching him in the gut and thrusting him forward from where he stood. He was in the air, sailing to the ground, when another object flew from the darkness. A massive metal hook, linked to a seemingly endless chain, went past and was pulled back, wrapping around his waist and roughly returning him to where he'd been standing before. Once there, he was kicked again, as the sole of the same boot met his face and sent him swiftly down the ramp, where he landed on the asphalt to recover from a total of three blows. When he'd finally recovered his breath, and could look up from the ground, he saw two figures descending from the truck's hold: One slender yet still blocky, raising a hand to another, who looked to be made up of spheres. The second raised their own hand, firmly slapping that of the first. It was then he noticed that the second's other hand was busy coiling up the chain attached to the hook.


"That was awesome!" Her hand recoiled slightly from the force of that which met it in the air, but Tamiyo held her stride nonetheless. At some point, she'd tucked her head and hair into her helmet, for the sake of caution, but when she looked around there was no sort of guard present, save for her 'employees' filing out of the truck behind her. Perhaps they'd gone overboard on the preparation.

Overboard or not, they did find who she was hoping for, who she kneeled on the ground to get a better look at. "Oh hey, Jaque!" she greeted him, resting her gun on the ground. "And just how have you been lately? The Dregs treatin' you well? I bet they are!" As she rambled on, he gave her a confused look, but he recognized her voice at some point and his face gained an expression more of disappointment than anything else. "Yeah, you remember lil' Tami, don't ya? About yea tall, had this big ol' lollipop? That is, 'till your guys came and shot the cashier! Now, isn't that just rude?"

"Not cool, man," Porkchop agreed, shaking his head in disapproval at the man. Apparently, he'd been involved in some sort of robbery, which had prevented Tamiyo from purchasing a lollipop. It was a grievous crime to be sure, and one couldn't hope to imagine what sort of vengeance might be deemed appropriate.

One thing everyone there could agree on was that the duo really enjoyed playing with their food. Though, they felt no sympathy. As everyone jumped off of the truck, Mika was disappointed that they didn't have a shootout right there. None of the people there looked like they were armed either. She really wanted to put everything to the test. Oh well.

While Tami was having her way with the person she had just abused, the crew spread out to secure the area. Mika took notice of one of the employees slowly backing away. Now she couldn't just let him go out and call in some muscle, now can she? Actually, that would definitely make her day, but intimidating him seemed like a much more enjoyable option. She raised her weapon, trained at the sneaky employee's back and simply said, "Go on, make my day."

She could swear she saw his heart jump to his throat as he raised his arms slowly and turned around. "Hmm... not really my type."

Tamiyo held out a hand, which Porkchop's hook soon landed in. Her captive, seeing this and knowing far too well what it likely meant, rolled over on the ground and attempted to stumble back to a stand. He didn't get very far, as the hook was almost immediately around his neck, the dull inside pulling back against his throat as Tamiyo planted a boot into his back and held the chain taut above him. He struggled still, even though several guns had been directed at him.

"Ap-ap-ap-ap-aaaap, just where are you heading off to?" she teased him. "No wonder you never got a wife! Every time a girl enters the room, you bolt!" She leaned down to speak to him a bit more directly, giving a strong tug on the chain in the process and half-strangling him. "Have a bit of pride, will ya?" She released the chain and he fell back to the ground, left weak while he recovered his breath. Again. He opened his mouth at several points, and Tamiyo patiently awaited the moment where he'd ask what she wanted. With his breath in tatters, he never got around to it.

Tamiyo decided to move the conversation along for him. "What I want," she began rather loudly as she began a long stride around him, "Well, first I'd like it if you don't shoot random people. Second request is pretty simple too: I want your guys." He shot her a glare half of contempt and half of confusion, and so she elaborated. "I'm thinkin' I take you out of the picture, that does two things. It does the whole 'vengeance' thing, which is swell and all, but it also leaves all your buddies unemployed. My solution: Swoop in and take them under my tender wing, offering a bright new future with-" she waved away the cliche'd speech, rather than finishing it. "Yeah, I'm sure you get the rest."

A recruitment drive... Quite a risky one at that, but whatever keeps things going. She wasn't against it, but to think they'd go all though this trouble to merge with people who may not even like the thought of having to work for a high-schooler. She'll give Tamayo the benefit of the doubt, but if this went through, she'd have to keep her eyes on the recruits or everything they had will go up in smoke. But like most everyone in a gang, they responded to power, and... they had some of it to show, but at the moment, their leader still looked somewhat like a spoiled brat, a fact Mika had tuned out.

The sisters patrolled the entrances to the rest of the compound, looking for anyone that might sound the alarm. "Aren't we at all worried the guys in security are gonna see us through cameras?" she asked loud enough for everyone in their crew to hear.

"Cameras? 'Scuse me?" Tamiyo took a moment to glance around for any such device. She wasn't actually looking, though, as it was more for dramatic effect than anything else. "Well, if we've got an audience, I'd say that's better! They get to see their new boss in action, and get even get a chance to see first-hand just how cool she is." She struck a somewhat subtle, somewhat not-subtle-at-all pose, giving a flick of her hair. If one looked closely, they may have seen a few sparkles floating through the air in its wake.

But still, there was only so much time for flair and drama, and Tamiyo returned her attention to her old 'friend'. Of course, 'attention' was a synonym for 'gun', as the weapon she'd been holding was now lazily resting its barrel against his forehead. "It also means I won't have to go through the trouble of letting them know you've been put out of commission." She withdrew the weapon then, shaking her hands close to herself and giving a quiet little squeal. "Oooooh, I've always wanted to say something finishey like that!" On the floor, Jaque was relishing in some relief, probably under the impression that the gun was merely for scares. He was promptly proven wrong, however, as it was immediately in his face again, and the trigger was pulled without any more ceremony.

There was a flash, and a loud bang of sorts, and suddenly Jaque was no longer supporting himself to any extent. Some of the men nearby turned their heads, though Tamiyo didn't seem all too fazed. Porkchop was giving a polite applause. Tamiyo was inspecting the weapon. "So it was a shotgun," she mused aloud, and soon fished through a pocket on her bandoleer. Out came a balled-up memo, which was dropped to the ground next to her former rival. "They'll know where to go when they find him," she explained, turning around and beginning her walk back to the truck. "A shame we didn't get to all the gear we brought but, eh, what can you do?"

"Better prepare for an assault," Mika told her sister with a grin. In all honesty, she wanted them to be faced with a number of enemies. She wanted to put this gear to use. With the gunshot that followed, she was expecting the enemy to come barreling down on them any minute now. But their leader didn't seem to have intentions on fighting them. With a disappointed look, the sisters walked back to the truck as their leader did.

"What a cock tease," she said under her breath.

Soon, the street soldiers were all strapped into their seats again, save for Porkchop, who couldn't fit into his own well enough to close the belt without breaking something. The truck was started up, and they were moving again. One of the dregs, seated next to Tamiyo, occasionally turned to look at her, seeming unsure. Meanwhile, she stared at the floor with that same confidence plastered across her face, generically solid as ever. Her subordinate eventually tapped her shoulder, speaking up with a, "You okay, boss?" This seemed to startle her, and she turned her head quickly, putting together an answer in her head.

There was no time for her to answer. The lights in the bay flickered, and the vehicle came to a rough halt. There was a loud bang up front, and shouting from multiple sources outside. "Well, get moving!" Porkchop shouted to the others, since Tamiyo had frozen up. He tore one man from his seat and launched him out the back of the truck before following close behind, snuffling and snorting behind his mask. Others soon acknowledged the order, swarming the exit.

Meanwhile, Tamiyo was still processing the sudden shift in the situation, as well as that question she was asked a moment ago. Was she okay? Looking down, she realized what had worried her employee: Her hands had been shaking. They still were, in fact, and she clenched them to relieve their incessant twitching before moving to undo her safety belt.

They were already leaving without much of a fight. Something was going to go wrong, she knew it, and so didn't bother taking off her helmet. Alex knew Mika long enough to know what she was feeling from the way she gripped her gun, and so she too didn't remove any of her gear. Surely enough, something seemed to go wrong.

The truck seemed to jerk violently, as if it had just crashed. There was a commotion outside and they were ordered out to check it. The Roost sisters were one of the last ones out. She and Alex peeked out from either side of the truck, not wanting to be out in the open in case something was going awry.

Many of the gang's men had split off and moved around the truck's sides, but two hung back with Porkchop to keep the back covered. As the three glanced about, weapons raised, gunshots were let off elsewhere, and they turned their attention to where the others had gone. "There!" Porkchop called, hurling his hook in their direction. It caught hold of something, and he tugged hard, pulling a slim gray figure into view. Before he could plant his shotgun into its face, the newcomer planted his feet into the ground and kicked off, soaring unusually high into the air over Porkchop's right shoulder. With the chain coming from his left, he was twisted out of his footing, and was sent spinning in the air, parallel to the ground, until he lost his height and landed on his back, hard against the street.

The silver fighter, on the other hand, had a much more graceful landing, setting down silently on top of a nearby sign. He rose to a stand, balanced atop the metal "yield" plate, and faced the two men who still stood. He wasn't excessively tall, but he appeared to be made of metal cord and plate, rather than skin. Just about every piece of him was some sort of armor or mesh, the most prominent of which was his helmet, which bore a proud brow ornament which stood out well even though it was the same colorless slate as everything else. At his hip, a katana was sheathed.

"He's a hero! Get 'im!" One of the men called out, raised a rifle, and opened fire. In flashes of white, however, the silver man drew the sword and made a number of slashes in the air, and the bullets never touched him. Instead, they were blent to dust before they could reach their target, and soon the person who shot him ran out of ammunition. As he fumbled for a new magazine, his opponent lunged forward from his perch on the sign, and the gun was split down the center. A steely kick to the chest, and he was on the ground as well, heaving for air.

The swordsman returned his katana to its sheath and turned to the other guard, who had his own gun trained on him. "You are not who I am looking for," he explained, speaking in an accent akin to the city's eastern districts. "Leave now, and I will not hurt you." The dreg didn't hesitate much at the offer, and soon threw the gun down, sprinting for his life in the opposite direction and shouting, "This sucks!"

Were they fighting a mechanized soldier? It was just like one of those shows on the TV, she just saw one of their own firing into the soldier and the bullets didn't even hit. "Now this is getting interesting," she said, signaling Alex to do a flanking maneuver with her. The two of them went off to either side and took precise shots at the enemy. Both of them had electric batons at their side, and they knew how to use them in close-quarters if it ever came to that.

Their shots were synchronized to minimize the window their enemy had to deflect them, and while they were almost aiming at each other due to their position, they were actually aiming at a wide enough angle that the bullets would pass the other. They moved around in a clockwise direction, and when they ran out of bullets, they were quick to reload, retaining the same level of synchronization. It was like the two of them were mechanized themselves.

He didn't move from his place at all. Rather, he stood his ground as they opened fire, and his sword moved instead. It sped through the air smoothly, seeking out the bullets as they came close and refusing them passage. He balanced both angles without misstep, as if he had many arms, though in reality he only had one. As more bullets were fed to his sword, it began to react. Starting from the tip, a coating of bright orange formed, slowly crawling down the blade with each bullet it severed. Soon enough, it began to reach the hilt, and the warrior remained unharmed, with not a single scratch appearing on his body plate. "You are not who I am looking for!" he loudly repeated his warning to the two who were so persistently firing at him. "Leave now, and I will not hurt you!"

Son of a-- what the hell was this thing? Mika flashed a signal to her sister to halt firing but keep her guard up. Whatever this thing was, the two of them firing at it wasn't going to do much. "Who the hell are you looking for then, huh?" she demanded, keeping her rifle trained at this ninja.

She didn't have that many options, its reaction time was simply too much. A molotov would be helpful, or any kind of explosive. No, they needed some EMP grenades for this. Luckily, she and Alex both took a bunch when they were selecting their load out. They needed someone to distract him though.

When the firing stopped, he halted in place, blade still at the ready as he shifted his look between the two for some time before attempting to answer. The orange glow, with no more bullets to feed it, quickly faded from his sword, but he didn't move to sheathe it. "We are here for a girl: 'Tamiyo Ratashi'. You two are safe if you do not hide her from us." A moment of hesitation, and he decided to elaborate a bit. "She has the potential to do many things, and has put many changes into motion, but it is time for her to go home now." Porkchop, still on the ground, began to shift in place, getting a hold of the ground so he could attempt to stand. The white ninja saw this and turned his blade in that direction, cautious of what could become a third opponent. "Stay where you are, brute, and you will be safe," he warned the larger man, who turned his head to glare at him from behind the gas mask he so consistently wore.

And there it was. When two people knew each other since the younger's birth, they were bound to develop their own signals, or even their own brand of sign language. This was especially true when they needed to be really secretive about certain issues. As soon as the ninja divided his focus to address Porkchop, electro-magnetic spheres erupted, spreading quickly--almost instantly-- towards the ninja.

This would hopefully disable him and his systems. And if it did, Alex would move in to jab a taser right to the back of the neck and keep it there until something gave in. She wanted to overload the suit. Killing whoever was inside was a bonus.