Cloak & Dagger The Assassins' Guild - Week 4 News

Saturday, 4 November

[10:00 AM] Guy Incognito overhears The nastily physical physical natsci (Freddie Bartlett-Evans) talking of their incompetency, and promptly dispatches of them
Guy Incognito reports:

I overheard a stranger talking about how he had recently been rendered incompetent after not achieving any kills in a while. I moved close to the stranger and stabbed him, taking him by surprise.

[11:20 AM] Mop gets a bit lost and makes the most of where he is, but still comes up empty.
Mop reports:

This morning I dealt with the rain and went to go and find some targets. I figured I'd go for the double in the [REDACTED place], but accidentally ended up in [REDACTED] [Umpire's note: Ok, I've been lost before, but this is a new level of it. -CG] where another inco is. I knocked and got nothing, and waited around a bit but then had to leave when someone I recognised appeared and I had to make an excuse. I couldn't get in the actual [REDACTED], so I went back to good old [REDACTED? Gosh, he really does seem to be visiting that place a lot]. Wasn't as lucky this time, as when I got to the inco's room someone left and I asked 'is [REDACTED] in?' and he said he wasn't and walked off. Could have been him but he didn't try to kill me so probably his roommate. Walked back. Will strike again soon.

[18:00 PM] Another pair of wanderers return empty handed.
Trexer reports:

Myself and The Hollow Knight made an attempt on [Inco]. We walked around her living area for 10-15 mins for terrain recognition, and waited at her door for a while. Unfortunately, she did not appear and we left empty handed.

[21:37 PM] Ivanova Koestler is going to cost Gray some time to put her back together. Blame Yacapo for that.
Ivanova Koestler reports:

/Memory extracted from decommissioned unit Ivanova Koestler, serial number 5091905/b/40/
Note– this unit was experiencing potentially serious malfunctions, and may eventually have had to be put down had it not been destroyed in the encounter referenced below (see report 017/1104–b for further details)

It was 2:25 in the afternoon when I found myself knocking on the door of Yacapo. My head was clouded, though whether from lack of sleep or something else I did not know. Weapon at the ready, I waited for a response, but had no time even to defend myself before a sharp implement opened my throat. In a matter of seconds I fell to the ground, blood gushing from my veins and my consciousness emptying with it. As the light dimmed above me, one last thought entered my mind, unbidden:

'I don't want to die.'

The thought persisted. The world grew dark.

Private thoughts of recommissioned unit Ivanova Koestler, serial number 5091905/c/40, recovered from document 103–1983/f (cataloguer's note– 'diary'):

21:00– What a joy to be alive again! What a joy to be back in working order! I shall thank the Gray Corporation every day for their beneficent magnanimity in repairing my damaged mind. Just under 3 hours since my recommission, and I am aching to return to the field. There are criminals at large– criminals whose very existence spits in the face of Christian Gray [I have a long lost brother!? - Cornelius Gray] and violates the basic tenets of our Just society. I vow today that blood will be spilled until this menace is dealt with!

21:27– I am plagued by questions and doubts. Why was my last iteration terminated? Memories are hazy, but I am told that unit 5091905/b/40/ was destroyed in an encounter with a master criminal suspected of ingesting a contraband enhancement serum. But could a Gray Corporation enforcer truly have been overcome by such carelessness?

Did my feet purposefully lead me to the only man I knew to be capable of ending my life?

[22:00 PM] Jose Haqq-Lee enjoys a nice refreshing murder of The Gallant Galos (Gabriella Gormley)
Jose Haqq-Lee reports:

On a whim, I was meeting up with some associates, at about 10pm on Saturday 4th November, and noticed that The Gallant Galos was there. Given that she was an incompetent, I decided to quickly dispatch of her with my pocket blaster (Nerf Gun). Very quick. Had a lemonade after.

[23:04 PM] The Frustrated Fishmonger has an eventful, but unsuccessful week.
The Frustrated Fishmonger reports:

Nobody has my fish :(

Sunday, 5 November

[11:00 AM] Not even sleep could keep Verbatim Tart from Bridget Spike (Paul Wernicke)
Verbatim Tart reports:

Last night I couldn't sleep properly as I knew an incompetent assassin lives just 1 floor below me, so I woke up early (11am is early on a Sunday) and went hunting. A series of loud knocks woke Paul Wernicke up. Disoriented from his sleep, he wasn't hard to convince to open up. The bullets went flying and his living body turned into a motionless corpse.

Bridget Spike reports:

This morning at around 11am I heard a knock on my door. After opening it I was shot in the side by a member of the police. I don't remember who it was as I'd only had one hour of sleep and wasn't functioning properly yet.

[19:00 PM] Alexander (James Quentin) Duggan makes quick work of Andrew Marlow (Paul Gardner)
Alexander (James Quentin) Duggan reports:

Alexander Duggan, sitting with his friends at dinner, realised he recognised an individual from the incompetency list standing at the end of a queue. Asking Viscout Vermillion to confirm, he waited patiently for Andrew Marlow to move forward in the queue and exit the kitchens with his meal. Whilst doing so he studied the surroundings, attempting to figure out the best approach to killing Andrew Marlow without any bystanders getting in the way or giving himself away as an assasssin. After all, his name as a professional was everything he had, and it needed to remain its spotless reputation. Seeing Andrew Marlow pay for his meal, and heading for a seat, he stood up in order to remain out of his target's sight. He let the Viscout watch Andrew Marlow, subtly, of course. Seeing that Paul had taken his seat and Viscout Vermillion signalling Alex, he took a deep breath and steadied his heartbeat. From a blind spot in Andrew Marlow's field of vision Alex approached him and stook a knife into his back, right through his heart. He was quite proud of this feat, for it was not easy to reach the heart from the back. So many layers of muscle to pass through, and the ribcage as a protection. But he struck true and with only the slightest convulsion, Andrew Marlow fell forward onto his plate and lay dead. What a pity. Such a nice meal had been wasted. Alex returned to his dessert, left the hall, and reported to his employer.

Monday, 6 November

[19:15 PM] Totem Pole's guilt and Andromeda (Grace McQuillan-Howard)'s misplaced weapon still aren't enough to save her.
Totem Pole reports:

On his way to dinner, Totem Pole studied the Inco list published by the Gray Corp. Lo and behold, an Inco's place of residence was not 5 minutes out of his way. He felt a flashback of his dutiful detour only three days ago and the whirlwind of emotions that crashed along with it, his first kill. He paused, steadied his hands, levelled his breath and thought. But there was no choice here, he knew that he had no excuse, the only right course of action would be to banish his traitorous thoughts and do what needed to be done. When he reached the divergence in the paths, he hesitated only long enough to check his weapons.

He tailed in a local through the first checkpoint, and made his way to the Inco's residence. He knew better than to try the door, it would be protected by Gray's security, so he waited for more locals, and sure enough a bunch of them showed up and unwittingly let him through. He walked up the stairs and knocked on the Inco's door and waited with baited breath. She wasn't in. He felt disappointment flow through him but a glimmer of relief was mingled with it. In denial, he decided to persist, he must prove himself loyal. Double checking his timepiece, he concluded that she much be enjoying the local catering facilities, so he decided to wait a while.

Less than 10 minutes later he heard footsteps at the bottom of the steps and a familiar voice, it was her. He drew his weapon as she rounded the last set of steps, put his finger on the trigger and prepared to fire, just like last time. But when he saw her, he hesitated. Her companion froze in disbelief, but a look of recognition came over her face. Images of the shell ripping through her was too much, he couldn't take the shot. But he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning his duty so there was no way that he could just leave. In a deluded attempt to broker a compromise for his warring emotions he holstered his blaster, drew his knife and stabbed her as he walked past. He couldn't look back. But the look she gave him before he took her life said everything he felt:

Look at this. Look at what they make you give.

Andromeda reports:

"Did you think you could hide from us forever?"

Andromeda recognised the man who had jumped out in front of her with a gun trained on her face. They had been colleges, partners in some sense. It didn't matter. Killing her would win him favour and perhaps a reward. depending on how poorly the syndicate viewed her now.

Her own weapon had been hidden in her lodgings to avoid arousing suspicion from the others staying in the same building so there was no chance of a duel. And even if she was able to fight him the syndicate would send more people after her, even if she left, even if she finally found one of her targets or her saboteur.

The other assassin looked at her and lowered the gun, he had evidently decided a bullet to the brain was a too easy and painless death for her. He drew a knife from the special pocket in his coat and stabbed her neck.

The device in an Andromeda's arm flashed red as it informed headquarters that Andromeda could be given no more targets.

[20:30 PM] Makishima has an unlucky day
Makishima reports:

At around 8:20 I was innocently wandering through town and saw someone who looked very much like a person on the inco list, they were even heading the right way towards accommodation. I followed them but they turned off somewhere else, perhaps they were taking a detour. Sadly I didn't have time to stick around and find out as I was heading to a society meet.

After said society meet I gained access to a different inco's staircase, but they were not in. Leaving a shoe in the door, I checked their lights, which were indeed off, and knew that any further attempts on them would be fruitless for now

[23:11 PM] LaTeX Forest should either pretest his bullets or offer more prayers to whatever deity presides over luck... 2 misfires give Gorgeous Git the opportunity to fight back.
LaTeX Forest reports:

I went to visit Gorgeous Git today. Unlike many other times when I found myself knocking on her door pointlessly as it was locked and nobody was in, this time the door was unlocked, but when I tried to open it, my target was already at the door trying to hold it. I tried shooting through a narrow slit, my gun jammed, but I've not noticed it in a rush cause the door swung open and I chased her into the room. Without realising my mistake, I attempted to shoot her multiple times before a dart to my heart disabled me. I'm glad other members of the police force are quite skilled, so the queue for repairs at the Grey Corp is quite short.

Gorgeous Git reports:

Unlocked. Uh oh... unbelievable... a mighty mistake made. BUT! brilliantly, the bobby's blaster broke! I ran, I revenged, I rid my residency of the raider, I rejoiced.

Tuesday, 7 November

[08:40 AM] The Shadow Broker succeeds in an early morning attack on Kitty Harper (Seren Jones-Reddy)
The Shadow Broker reports:

Kitty Harper had survived too long, it was time she got eliminated. I consulted my information network. The majority of her subject take a particular class, and this class starts in the morning. That was a perfect opportunity.

I arrived at her residence with an accomplice, Furston LeDolier, who would direct her towards me should she try to flee, and waited for her to leave her staircase. Her guard was down, perhaps she thought that one in the information business wouldn't be a proficient killer, despite the fact that one must survive constant attempts on their life the more that they learn. I followed her as she left, and as she turned to exit college via a non-standard route, I blasted her in the back, and she fell.

Furston LeDolier reports:

Greetings Citizens! We have left you parched of new for too long. However, We have been busy. Preparations have been made. The Cause for which We fight nears completion. Soon now dear citizens... Very soon. Today We have reason once again to celebrate.

We have witnessed the extermination of yet another impediment. Hearing Our allies call for Our aid We sent our finest agent. Together they waited in silence and in all stealth, for the target had proven elusive before. Our information was good though, and Our ally more than competent. The target emerged at precisely the time We predicted, and as surely and inevitably as our victory, was struck down smoothly. We congratulate those who choose willingly to cooperate with Us. Our aid is mighty and Our blessings shall be great.

The time draws near, citizens.

*a screech, a thump, looping feedback. The music stops. There is silence except... Except that if one listens very closely there is possibly, at the edge of hearing, the sound of terrified, frantic breathing. Abruptly, the breathing stops. Blaring, triumphant brass and synthetic megaflutes finishes out the broadcast as if nothing had happened*

[09:55 AM] Wilson Overdrive intercepts Mr. Razor (David Lever) with their knife
Wilson Overdrive reports:

I have dreamed of fighting alongside The Gray Corporation's Enforcers for years, so I was overjoyed to find that they publicly publish the lists of Incompetent assassins. I decided to have a go at making their list one target shorter so that they could see my worth.

The day before the deed, I visited the black market in preparation and after a fruitful shopping spree I returned to HQ with new weapons and icebreakers. That evening I loaded my icebreakers and jacked into cyberspace. Thankfully, my run was smooth and successful, I succeeded in uncovering my targets identity.

Tuesday morning, I set out to intercept my victim on his way to one of the Gray Corporation's lecture facilities.

The assassination went according to plan – the victim arrived on time and I ambushed him with a knife to the chest.

[10:30 AM] The Fundamental Group goes on a long, confusing journey
The Fundamental Group reports:

Today, around 10:30, I went to try and get Burt Reynold's Sentient Pancakes. It turns out the road where his room is located was much longer than expected. It also turns out the Google maps is not that accurate (or that I cannot read maps, but pretty sure this time it wasn't my fault). After some time, I managed to find the indicated address. However, no way of getting in and he didn't seem to be in anyways... Damn, I should have gone to lectures...

[10:36 AM] Hazie goes wandering with a companion, but nothing comes of it.
Hazie reports:

I went to Uncreative pseudonym's room with Queenslayer at 10.30pm. We rung the doorbell and waited around 20 mins but there was no sign of him so we left.


[13:00 PM] The Innocuous Postman who keeps bumping into people while carrying very sharp objects (re-employed) is always prepared for a delivery, unfortunately for Deathy McDeathface (Nayan Thakurani)
The Innocuous Postman who keeps bumping into people while carrying very sharp objects (re-employed) reports:

A truly dedicated postman is always prepared for a spontaneous delivery. Even on lunch break.

[13:05 PM] The Geiger Countess brings peace to our streets, at the cost of Mad Lord Geoffrey's (George Little's) life
Mad Lord Geoffrey reports:

Day 07/11

After converse with the ungracious Cornelius Grey I provoked him and challenged him to a dual at the dawn of tomorrow. Thinking myself safe until then I took a wistful stroll about my grounds. Unfortunately for me an assassin was lurking around. Before I even had a chance to turn she struck me in the back with a swift lunge and stab of her sword. The Totally Sane Lord Geoffrey fall here.

The Geiger Countess reports:

The Force of the Law would like to remind all Citizens of the paramount importance of carrying on with their ordinary and routine lives. Our State is powered by the ever-cycling rhythms of life and industry, and if these rhythms falter, then we all shall suffer for it. Do not shy away from those routine tasks that bring you into the public sphere. Do not alter your habits and customs, so reliable as they are. If you allow yourself to stumble, to hide, to be ruled by fear instead of faith, then we are all lost. The Force of the Law exists to serve and to protect our Citizens, but we cannot carry out our duty effectively if you should give our state over to chaos and forsake the rules and routines that allow is to track and predict the flow of dangerous individuals in your midst.

Do your duty. Follow your routines. We will keep you safe; you have no reason to be afraid. If we are coming after you, then it is for the good of all our society; you have no reason to hide.

The individual who was today removed from our society may at least serve as a good example in this respect. They did not falter in their routine, nor hide away behind locked doors; they must have known, as all Good Citizens know, that the Force of the Law is never wrong. Following the revocation of their Good Citizen status, their demise was just and inevitable; to attempt to delay it, through fight or through flight, would have been nothing more than a waste of our State's resources and our Police Units' time. However, they followed their routine accordingly, and gave up their life, as is right and just, to the judgement of the State.

We would like to remind all Citizens that we, the Force of the Law, are here for your protection. We remove from society those dangerous individuals who would destabilise the whole, and we ensure that our bounteous State runs smoothly and efficiently. Those individuals who break the rules - or who do not meet their contribution targets towards the ever-forward motion of our society - must be removed, for the sake of all our futures. We hope that you understand. We hope that you bear this in mind. We hope that you remain our Good Citizens.


[14:40 PM] Mr. Weenie destroys the serenity of the library and must be punished
Mr. Weenie reports:

I killed Misty Patricia in the [REDACTED] library with a nerf gun.

[Umpire's note: the library is OoB and so Mr. Weenie has gone wanted for two days! - Snow]

[15:50 PM] The incredibly incompetent Professor Incompetent incompetently stabs a dead Mad Lord Geoffrey
Professor Incompetent reports:

You may think you can escape me. You may think that you can outsmart me, but you are wrong. I am Professor Incompetent, and I know the Laws.

The Laws of Physics. The Laws of the Land. And the Law of Life that states that Nosy Neighbours will always exist.

You may think you can escape my wrath by being dead by the time you turn my ire. YOU ARE WRONG.

The Element of Disorder formally known as Mad Lord Geoffrey has been removed from the equations of the universe. As his door was opened to Fundamental Law of Neighbours, my calculations came to fruition as a shot opened his skull.

It was only then did Chaos pervade my formulae. The body of my target was sullied by stab wounds. His blood already congealed and dry.

Today, Order has been foiled. Today, Stitches grows more hungry. But Soon! Soon, the world will tremble beneath the Law of Professor Incompetent!

And to whichever would-be killer foiled my ineffable plans, know this: there is only one Order to this World, AND IT WILL BE MINE.

Mad Lord Geoffrey reports:

I was just assassinated again at 15:52 because my neighbour is an ass. My neighbour knocked in my door knowing that I had already been assassinated today to give me my key back but neglected to mention the person hiding in the kitchen next door with a nerf gun aimed at my head. On the upside, he claimed the bounty set on me by myself by giving me a bounty chocolate bar. Unfortunately, I hate bountys.

[16:00 PM] Xerxes Rockatansky escapes the deadly clutches of Caules Forvegde Yggdmillenia
Caules Forvegde Yggdmillenia reports:

Caules was impatient, he needed a kill. He needed to be noticed in this field of very good murderers.

He arrived at the residence of Xerxes Rockatansky, and knocked on the door, it opened and Caules immediately launched a spell. Xerxes Rockatansky noticed this and dodged, the door shut and Caules pretended to leave. "Blast it", he thought, punching the wall in frustration. He had been too eager. If he'd not shot immediately, Maxim would have let his guard down and he'd have the kill by now. Caules heard the door open, and cautiously went back up the stairs, magic primed.

Xerxes Rockatansky was peering through a small gap in the door. He claimed to be unarmed. Caules launched another spell at him but he unsurprisingly closed the door before it could hit. As he opened the door, Caules tried to persuade him to give up. Xerxes Rockatansky was indeed unarmed, and so could do nothing. The paranoia would end and he would be free if he just let Caules kill him. Somewhat unsurprisingly, both attempts to convince him fell on deaf ears, and the two of them agreed to call an end to the afternoon's combat. Caules departed, lessons learned, but again frustrated that he hadn't succeeded. He knew how to improve on this, so hopefully next time would finally get what he was after.

[22:00 PM] Winnie the Pooh travels to the far ends of the Hundred Acre Woods
Winnie the Pooh reports:

It was a cold wintery day, when Winnie the Pooh realised he was feeling rather lonely. All of his friends had mysteriously stopped coming to see him, and when he visited their homes he heard noone - not even Rabbit′s voice telling him that Rabbit was out.

He decided he had to find some new friends.

At first Pooh thought he would go on an expotition to the North Pole again, to see if anyone had moved there since Pooh discovered it. But he couldn′t remember where it was.

So instead he went on an expotition to the far end of the Hundred Acre Wood.

It took Pooh long time to gather all the things he needed, and he got nearly got lost once or twice, but eventually he got there.

He looked around the unfamiliar part of the forest, and before long he had found a couple of other animals he could make friends with.

But Pooh had spent so long getting there that these new animals were now in their homes making their preparations for beds. And the insects that come out in the night were beginning to notice him.

So Pooh left and walked all the way back home. He would come back again later to meet these new animals.

And by the the time Pooh got back home, he was a very tired bear, and so he went straight to bed.

Wednesday, 8 November

[09:30 AM] Nothing will stop Alisa Reinford from catching their bus... nothing.
Alisa Reinford reports:

Alisa had asked a friend for a weapon she could carry discreetly, and had been given a very interesting bottle of clear acid. She was looking to try it out on someone this morning. She waited by their accommodation for them to leave for lectures, but soon the bells tolled on the hour and it was clear they were not showing up. What a shame. Alisa left, but her timing was impeccable, a bus was arriving just as she did, so she hopped on and continued on her travels.

[13:20 PM] The Geiger Countess removes a corrupted Twitch from the city, Flip Flop Thief (Barnaby Medhurst)
The Geiger Countess reports:

The Force of the Law has been aware for some time that Police Unit Flip Flop Thief had exhibited certain malfunctions [Interesting, my units are malfunctioning, are they? -CG] suggesting that a protocol corruption had occurred. As this Unit's patrol area was reasonably isolated, we did not immediately decommission the Unit, but instead observed their behaviour to ascertain whether this was in any way related to the persistent and deliberate corruption afflicting certain other Police Units, or rather an isolated and coincidental malfunction. Having performed our observations, we have now taken Police Unit Flip Flop Thief in for decommissioning, repair, and recommissioning.

We would like to remind all Citizens that we, the Force of the Law, are here for your protection. We remove from society those dangerous individuals who would destabilise the whole, and we ensure that our bounteous State runs smoothly and efficiently. Those individuals who break the rules – or who do not meet their contribution targets [Oh yes, those are quite important, please do continue with those -CG] towards the ever–forward motion of our society – must be removed, for the sake of all our futures. We hope that you understand. We hope that you bear this in mind. We hope that you remain our Good Citizens.


[17:00 PM] A busy day for LaTeX Forest as he removes Xerxes Rockatansky (Maxim Clarke) and NJT (Nusrath Tapadar) from the streets permanently. A brief exchange of fire leaves Holey Hick injured, but still standing.
LaTeX Forest reports:

The adventures of LaTeX Forest began at 16:45 in[REDACTED]. It wasn't hard to find the room of Xerxes Rockatansky. I knocked on his door. He immediately knew I was part of the guild, so he was reluctant to open up at first. I kept knocking. I tried to have some conversation with him pretending to have absolutely no idea what assassins he was talking about. At some point, his neighbour decided to check what was going on, but soon retreated into their room. I kept knocking. He seemed very upset by this and shouted something containing words ``writing'' and ``essay''. [Umpire's note: While technically licit, please don't do this in future. We don't really want to be disruptive to our players' abilities to work and actually get their degrees.] I kept knocking. Eventually, he couldn't stand the sound any longer. The door opened and in a matter of seconds Max was on the floor in a pool of blood.

Then, under the cover of darkness I headed to [Not REDACTED, just look behind these words to find the location] nearby. Some strangers have guided me to the building an inco was hiding in for far too long. The door wasn't locked so I walked into the room shooting my bullets at an unsuspecting NJT. Her last words were aimed at trying to stay alive by complaining how impolite it is to walk into people's rooms, but I was having none of it.
[Umpire's note: This one is totally fine. If people leave their doors unlocked, you can just walk in.]
As I was leaving the murder scene, I felt a need for more. My choice was Holey Hick. I headed to [A place, probably], and found my victim to be. I knew the way as I had made an attempt on him previously, but this time it was different. He was inside. After some innocent sounding conversation, he was still not convinced I have no clue what the assassins guild is, so he attempted to shoot me through the letter box. I noticed it in advance, so stood to the side of it and no bullets hit me. At some point I pretended to leave saying that I left a parcel next to his door. I jumped out from the corner I was hiding behind and an exchange of fire immediately followed. He was armed with 2 guns and a massive cosh. Everything happened so quickly, neither of us could remember the details. In the end we were both dead with one significant difference: I'll be repaired in a few hours, but he was gone forever. [I looked into this one myself and found Holey Hick very much alive, all be it nursing an injured limb. For clarity, they thought they were dead as they had been hit in the hand, then in a weapon that that hand was holding that was in the way of them being hit in the body. Usually, the killed limb would mean that the weapon cannot be used to block, but being hit in a hand carrying a weapon does not kill the limb. -CG]

Holey Hick reports:

Dodgy delivery to my door; brief bloody battle. Detailed discussions didn't decisively decide death's. Consulting clever Cornelius [Flattered, now get back to work, -CG] clarified; clinged on and clinched competency from chaos!

Regards – Armed alliterating assassins

[20:00 PM] Triple Nipple (Conrad Barclay) was definitely right to be suspicious of Guy Incognito
Guy Incognito reports:

I had visited Conrad's accommodation the day before in hope of luring him out and killing him, but he saw through my lie and didn't open his door. Fortunately, he later started believing that I was just visiting him and wasn't actually an assassin - The next time I saw him, he came up to me to apologise for being unnecessarily suspicious. I then stabbed him in the chest.

[22:33 PM] Alisa Reinford actually has no bus and has to walk!? What madness is this?
Alisa Reinford reports:

Alisa had some time on her hands, so she decided to go and hunt.

She arrived at her first target's abode. The lights were on. She rang the doorbell but nobody came. She held the doorbell for longer. Still no–one came. She contemplated holding the doorbell until someone did, but decided that would probably be too annoying, so tried elsewhere.

A housemate answered the next door she knocked. Her target was not in even though "he's usually in at this time". The walk back reminded her why she always takes the bus.

Alisa finally passed a college with another target residing. It was very dark, and she hadn't done her research before she entered. She enjoyed the walk, the buildings were pretty, and there were a lot of them all lit up well, but there was no sign of the one where her victim lived. Maybe things weren't signposted or would be more visible in daylight. As Alisa came to leave, she noticed the doors had shut, but a friendly passing car approached and she followed it out.

It had been two hours since she started, and she was fa too tired to continue. With no buses running anywhere useful at this late hour, she had no choice but to walk back to college. But then again, compared to what she had already done, this short walk back was nothing.

Still no sign of the technology to transmit the cure, she thought. Somebody has to have it.

[Yes, that I do. -Cornelius Gray]

Thursday, 9 November

[09:42 AM] Yacapo (Jake Bruchez) stumbles and Emile Ward takes the kill.
Emile Ward reports:

I was very lucky to meet Yacapo again. After my failed attempt earlier, I was very lucky to see Yacapo walking past me, just when I was going for a walk. I grabbed my knife and in the stress I pulled it too early. He ran away and it looked like he was going to escape. But more luck for me: he ran into a small blockade and tripped to the ground, leaving him unprotected from my knife. A true assassin, worthy of living a longer life, was however not given this longer life.

[10:54 AM] Ivanova Koestler goes after Emile Ward. They are saved by Gray Corp medics.
Ivanova Koestler reports:

Day 5 after recommission, I received a summons. My most benevolent employers were calling me back to Grey Corporation Headquarters for 'maintenance'. Something not right with my new body, it seemed. Something 'off'. 'Nothing to worry about– just a couple of tests to check up on the working'. Then examination. Then inspection. Then more tests, followed by inquiry, assessment, corroboration, and scrutinization.

'Why are you examining my memory banks?'
'Nothing to worry about– just a routine check.'
'Why are you taking apart my frontal lobe?'
'Nothing to worry about– just a routine check.'

I will prove my loyalty to them. I will make sure they never have cause to doubt me again!

21:30– I walked to Clare, and climbed the creaky stairs which led to the last known residence of Emile Ward. Like so many of his ilk, the criminal had secluded himself at the very top, perhaps hoping, futilely, to dissuade would–be attackers. On receiving no answer to my injunction to open the door in the name of the Law, I pushed the handle and found, to my great surprise, that the door swung open, revealing the fugitive's bolthole lying empty. There was nothing else for it– I turned out the light, trained my gun on the door, and settled down to wait.

22:45– 75 minutes passed in this manner. My hands grew icy, and my concentration threatened to wane, but at last the target returned. He fumbled at the lock, no doubt forgetful of his previous negligence, and heedlessly pushed open the door. My bullets tore through his chest, and he fell backward with a cry of shock. But as the stain spread around him, he strained for breath, and, leaning close, I heard him whisper words that stilled my heart:

'I... killed... someone.'

My breath caught in my throat. This poor fool– had he really killed and not reported in? If what he said was true, then he had fulfilled his quota, and was no longer a legitimate target for elimination. This was not what I had wanted! I snatched my communicator and alerted my employers. Grey Corporation medics soon arrived, and immediately began urgent operations to revive van der Schoot. Unable to bear the sight, I closed the door and walked down the stairs once more. I do not know if they succeeded. I dread finding out.

[Interesting... a person can be considered innocent for having killed another individual, hmm? Well, as it happened, the medics were only dispatched due to the fact that Emile had made 2 attempts far earlier that day. The kill had not been reported and as such, did not count.]

[14:00 PM] Magdala Buckley fails to bump into Trexer
Magdala Buckley reports:

I went to murder Trexer, but he wasn't home. Loitered suspiciously for a couple of minutes but decided I should probably trek back home and stop freaking out passers by.

[16:00 PM] The Innocuous Postman who keeps bumping into people while carrying very sharp objects (re-employed) delivers to a rather unwilling receiver, Uncreative pseudonym (Aristotle Lau)
The Innocuous Postman who keeps bumping into people while carrying very sharp objects (re-employed) reports:

It is always disconcerting when a recipient tries to run from the postman. Truly represents the breakdown of our society. And I am remarkably innocuous, after all.

Luckily, I'd had the foresight to slip the package into the recipient's backpack before he started to, well, leg it. I'm helpful like that.

[18:30 PM] Seb Moran attempts to find Trexer at dinner
Seb Moran reports:

Stopped at [REDACTED] to see if Trexer was in. After receiving too many bemused looks from people going into dinner, I decided to make my way home and contact an accomplice to see if I could gain access to any other targets. After confirming that I can, I will endeavour to murder tonight.

[18:30 PM] The Geiger Countess and a few allies go wandering, but only find one victim, Hides-From-View (Rebecca Harris)
The Geiger Countess reports:

We would like to remind all Citizens once again of the importance of the contribution targets set out by the State. Failure to meet these targets on a persistent basis is very likely to result in the revocation of Good Citizen status, leading as it does to an unbalancing of our carefully–calculated societal models, and thus having consequences which damage production across many sectors. In order to reinforce this message in the minds of certain neglectful individuals currently living in idleness at the expense of our hardworking Good Citizens, I led a supplementary patrol with the intention of removing some of those individuals weighing our society down, and to impress upon the others the necessity of action and cooperation. I was aided in this matter by Police Unit Back From Retirement, and the patrol was overseen by Cornelius Gray, who professed a wish to observe the operation of the Force in action, and to participate in this regulation of our society.

I can report with commendation that the excessive security measures observed on certain patrols were far less prevalent in the areas swept on this occasion – the vast majority of buildings were easily accessible to the Force of the Law, either through having only the regulation–standard low–security measures, or through the respectful and uncurious cooperation of the Good Citizens residing therein. This is as it should be. However, the cooperation of the individuals we sought was rather less exemplary; many kept locked doors, even when informed of the presence of the Force, and many others deviated from their prescribed schedules, and were not in their residences at the requisite hour. I must remind all Citizens that such infractions will weigh most unfavourably upon an individual's character profile. The Force of the Law is not to be feared, so long as you cooperate. It falls to every one of us to help keep our society strong.

This being said, the patrol was not without success. Our information led us to one of the individuals we sought en route from the commercial district to their residence, who either did not observe or did not question the presence of the Force of the Law in the area. I was able to dispatch the individual personally with a laserlight blade, and the preliminary examination for Twitch candidacy was extremely favourable. In addition to this success, we discovered that another individual on our list had been dispatched already by a Concerned Citizen in the area, and no longer required our attention. The Force of the Law cannot commend enough those Concerned Citizens who aid us in our duty to keep this society strong.

We would like to remind all Citizens that we, the Force of the Law, are here for your protection. We remove from society those dangerous individuals who would destabilise the whole, and we ensure that our bounteous State runs smoothly and efficiently. Those individuals who break the rules – or who do not meet their contribution targets towards the ever–forward motion of our society – must be removed, for the sake of all our futures. We hope that you understand. We hope that you bear this in mind. We hope that you remain our Good Citizens.


Back From Retirement reports:

Under cover of darkness, and with the knowledge of few, I returned Cambridge. Depositing equipment with [NOBODY IMPORTANT], I made straight for my first point of contact The Geiger Countess herself. We exchanged pleasantries, armed appropriate, and formulated a route through the city. We set off for [REDACTED] first, meeting Cornelius Gray on the way. People were milling about to and from dinner as we arrived. Finding the target out, I left the other two to guard both ends of their hallway, as I wandered through the dining hall. None of the diners stood out, so I returned, and the three of us departed.

The next port of call was some distance away, through a concealed and well secured alleyway door. We pretended we were finishing a last minute conversation as people approached, when myself and GC turned and walked away while CG (initials which I'm now finding out are inconveniently similar) followed the passer-by inside without arousing suspicion. After a moment, he reappeared, and the three of us entered, to find that just inside the alley was another secure door. We simply hid near this one, CG catching it after more people disappeared inside. The network of corridors and stairways we found ourselves in was labyrinthine, seemingly made of numerous buildings of varying heights that had been cobbled together and repurposed. After a long time of wandering in and out of doors in a fashion reminiscent of Scooby Doo, I chanced upon the correct area, and we approached our target's door, after checking bathrooms, kitchens and other communal areas. The lights however, were off and nobody was home. In a last ditch attempt, I wandered up to a communal room we'd passed some distance away with occupants, and pretended to be lost. I was met with knowing sympathy, but nobody who looked like I should shoot them.

Declaring that a bust, we made for [REDACTED]. We were fortunate to stumble across Hides-From-View some way ahead of us, each of us recognising her from her appearance on the incobash, enthusiasm that had unfortunately deserted her, it seemed. She appeared to notice us too, and while she might have thought we looked shifty, she wasn't certain or didn't care enough to flee. GC caught up with her subtly and bisected her with a paper laser. RH seemed nonplussed, asked GC's identity, and requested with promising glee to join the police. We found this target of opportunity was a happy accident however, when we entered the college we were heading for, and discovered the target lived a fair distance off site.

Embarking once more, we headed to the address we'd found. On arrival, we found yet another sealed gate. GC and CG skirted around the wall by means of an alley, myself hanging back at a distance that was apparently sufficiently far for CG to forget that I was present, him turning to GC and speculating that they had "a tail" with such little subtly that I ("the tail") heard. We made no progress with the perimeter, and returned to the gate. The wall it was set into was particularly low, and I was of the opinion that I could just nonchalantly jump over it without drawing much attention. CG was unenthusiastic, but before we could discuss it further, residents turned up and opened the gate for us. We waited for them to disappear before following any further, which turned out to be a mistake, as we came to another card reader door on rounding the corner. The issue was short lived however, as the door turned out to have not actually shut itself; we pushed it open and strolled in undeterred. As was typical of our luck by this point, the target's resistance proved empty.

We went next to [REDACTED], a section of the report were all subtlety becomes woefully unnecessary. The target lived over the bar, where some sort of party was going on. The room was a three person set, which contained our target and at least one other person who also happened to be an assassin. We climbed the stairs, and discussed our options, where we were unfortunate enough to be in the way of the people who lived above the target on the top floor; we were lurking on their landing with nowhere obvious to go, so they challenged us. We said who we were there for, and they pointed us downstairs before disappearing into their rooms. The clock was ticking from then, as it would raise the alarm were we still there when they next appeared. As it was, GC and I had to flee the staircase a few feet ahead of one of them at one point as we dithered further. It was eventually decided that CG would knock and talk. I was in position up the stairs, and had missed any immediately prior discussion. CG knocked, and the assassin we were not there for called out as to who it was. CG stood mute at length until the call came again, at which point he replied, with all the subtlety of a brick to the face, that we were assassins and came bearing cookies... They declined to let us in, as I stared aghast, and suppressed my desire to whack CG atop the head. We left.

The next destination was what seemed like a private house. GC's talking privileges thoroughly revoked, I went to the doorstep, exaggeratedly hopped from foot to foot, pressed the bell, and knocked, intending to ask whoever answered if I could use their bathroom, as they were the only nearby building showing signs of life. Unfortunately, there was only one bell, which didn't work, and apparently nobody was in earshot of my knocking. After some time under the gaze of a comically large cctv camera, and with my excuse growing progressively less plausible, I gave up, and we moved on.

The last port of call was [REDACTED], to find Conrad Barclay. After some difficulty negotiating the fractal like identical courts, we finally found where we were supposed to be. He lived on the ground floor (or so we were reasonably confident, as he was room one) and his light was visible through his window and shutters. We contemplated asking a loose contact of GC's that also lived on the staircase if they would let us in, but decided against it, speculating that they could well have been in league with Conrad. While we were discussing our options louder than I'd have liked, noise emanated from the target window and the shutters began to open. I gestured for silence, guns to be drawn, and for the other two to join me in squishing ourselves against the wall. I thought I'd heard a water gun being pressurised, and acutely aware that a spray at this range would have made short work of all three of us, moved us back along the wall. No death was forthcoming however, and we concluded it was something innocent. CG nonchalantly walked past the slightly open window, getting an inconclusive side on view of Conrad at a desk. I looked with similar uncertainty. I suggested I press the first button on the intercom (it was unlabelled), and the other two start unloading though the window if the bell went off in that room. We were disappointed to find that the button did precisely nothing. Seeing as we had nothing left to lose, it was decided I would walk up to the window, a gun in each hand below eyeline from inside, and shout "Conrad"; if he responded, CG, who was hiding just to the side of the window, would open it as wide as possible, and myself and GC would shoot every bullet we had. So I called. He answered, saying that I'd made him jump. He stared at me for a lengthy amount of time, the window opening part of the plan failing to occur, and me reluctant to raise my weapons into view without a good target. After a lot of staring at me expectantly, we got up and came towards me. Seeing the chance disappearing if he closed the window, I made to seize what opportunity there was, and raised my guns. Before I could shoot however, Conrad proclaimed that we was already dead, from the day before. The other two collectively hoved into view, as Conrad, thinking on it, said "you didn't actually get me though". Myself and CG both thinking simultaneously that this could mean he wasn't actually dead, and had simply failed to read the rules, shot. The window had already snapped shut, and the bullets bounced off harmlessly. Conrad then reiterated that he was dead, and came outside to speak with us. He accepted a lump of biscuit from CG, and we left, satisfied with his demise.

Conrad and Rebecca had both asked who we were, a question to which I had an obvious answer: [attached]


[19:00 PM] Seb Moran has an unlucky evening
Seb Moran reports:

Went to kill Electronite - I was let into the hall by a new accomplice. They didn't answer the door so I gave it up as a bad job and returned home.

[19:46 PM] Spicy Parmigianino goes on a trip and finds Mr. Weenie (Oliver Bilbie)
Spicy Parmigianino reports:

The time was ticking, he'd no longer be wanted if I waited another few hours, so I decided to take a bike ride to the other side of town. While cycling, I was thinking that he survived the first day, so he must be able to hide well and cycling through the freezing weather was a bad idea, but I kept going. It was my lucky day: I learned from his neighbours that Mr. Weenie was at a subject dinner. So after waiting for some time, I saw him walking on a path with some of his friends. This was The Moment! I shot him in the chest. Was the many–mile bike ride worth it? Definitely.

[23:59 PM] Emile Ward evades the deadly Starkey
Starkey reports:

Today we set out to rescue/recruit another stork for the Stork Brigade. Well, I say 'we', but this time I went alone. For as we fight for our rights, we are becoming more famous and more feared. And we had been here before, on our visit to the N'haeris family just one week previously. Clearly we had been noticed in the neighbourhood, so for all of us to come again would be too obvious. Which is why I went alone.

When I first arrived in the early evening, the residence of Emile Ward was empty. So I waited. I may not be a particularly patient person (at least according to my colleagues), but I am used to waiting and surviving by myself.

Eventually the time our intelligence had said he would return by had passed, and still he was out. I was beginning to wonder if there was mole in our team - maybe one of the new storks who wanted to overthrow me? Or maybe I'd just been recognised by one of the neighbours? But I didn't think so, because surely in that case they would have called the cops.

Suddenly Emile Ward appeared, from completely the wrong direction. It looked like this would be my opportunity to break in to resccue the stork, but I wasn't immediately certain that he was the right person (my colleagues are usually better at recognising faces).

I followed up into the building and up the internal staircase. As I was going up, listening intently as I did so, I heard him emerge from his room to use the communal facilities. So I hid out of sight.

The toilet flushed. Then the door opened. I counted the seconds until he would be above me, and then leapt up, gun drawn.

He wasn't there.


Well, something was making him suspicious. I withdrew into a corner, and waited. He waited too. Time crawled by as we stood, silent and still, cursing the automatic lights that screamed out our slightest movements. And then I heard another person, and realised he wasn't alone. And I realised that maybe more were coming.

So I fled...

I mean, I turned and made a quick, strategic retreat.

I mean, I tried to be quick. But the compound was in lockdown and for a while I could find no way out. Then some innocent civilians appeared, and I coerced them into opening the gates for me. If only they had known that it was I, Starkey, who was speaking to them.

Anyway, I am now back in base, unfortunately without the stork I meant to rescue. It's not fair if they start ganging up against you. Next time I'll give them a show of force so strong that they will whisper the name of "Mason Starkey" in awe and in fear for the rest of their lives. (Which may only be a few hours.)

Next time we'll succeed again.

Next time.

Friday, 10 November

[12:00 PM] The police attempt to take out The Gentleman... it doesn't end well and Back From Retirement goes very, very corrupt
Back From Retirement reports:

I sympathise with the new model of enforcer droids. All shiny hardware, and flash toys, no free thought. When I do the bidding of sinister individuals with their own ends, I know I've done it. Doesn't mean I want to. The trouble, at least from the perspective of the powers that be, with my clockwork, and gears, and steam, and offline processors, is that they're hard to influence; there's no remote control for me. To relieve me of my free will, takes something far more...mechanical. Leverage is a powerful thing; it can turn the tiniest weight into the heaviest hammer, and the fewest of words into the most compelling of orders. I never wanted to harm the police, nor it's agents; few want to damage that which they've fought so hard to build. Then again, being an architect of the newer, more efficient, more intimidating police was never something I'd intended to do, but was more something thrust upon me by the ingenuity of others, just as the need to kill 3, and allow a target to escape in direct dereliction of duty was thrust upon me. You see, The Gentleman has the words of leverage, he knows things I cannot allow any to know. So I did his bidding, to prevent this information getting out. If it did, the consequences would be dire; I could be ejected from the police, shunned by those I'd fought alongside, my outdated but not yet obsolete methods and weapons forced prematurely to fall still and decay. There are few I wouldn't turn on to prevent that. But I have started from the end; to a remembering machine like myself, chronology matters little. I shall find the beginning for you, such that you might understand...

Redeployment had placed me far from the conflict I had been at the heart of for so long, and opportunities to return are few. Newer models have sprang up to replace me, but few are such precision instruments of destruction. As a sacrifice for the predictability and unwavering obedience, much of the ability for autonomous thought and processing that I had so fought to nurture was removed from the newest models; many can't function adequately without the instruction of a superior processor, forsaking their armaments, and their subtly, standing in full view of their targets as they awaited downloads of combat routines. Each setback to my team hurt me, but I wouldn't not have done things like this; loyalty must be inspired, not manufactured and delivered in binary. I was fabricated in the earliest of days of machine learning; my storage of battle data is rivalled by few. I have seen sieges, counter-sieges, precision targeted strikes on individuals lead by intelligence work, speculative searches for large and scattered groups of enemies, a near constant readiness for targets of opportunity, and even drawn-out pitched battle against an alien force that had the audacity to call itself "organised" and "comparable" to us. Perhaps that was why I was allowed to remain as I am, and not disassembled and recycled, or even decommissioned entirely, as so many of my ilk have been. Few saw the need to install remote obedience procedures in me; the process is risky to one as low tech as I am and my loyalty to law and order, and the force has never once been in question over all my years. Even before I became an agent, I was always in support. The same too, can be said of The Geiger Countess and Cornelius Gray; even before their rise to power, ever since we aligned so long ago, there have been no lengths I wouldn't have gone to, no feats I wouldn't perform, and no risks I wouldn't have taken to protect and further their interests. Loyalty is instinctive to me. But everyone has their limit, and The Gentleman knows mine.

Following the previous day's subtlety, I was still almost universally unexpected in Cambridge. I was able to joke at how absurd the idea of me being present was in communication channels in full view of all, without any suspecting a thing. I was able to walk past two agents and sit with their quarry, and not a thought was spared on me. I was near the centre of town when the network of agents that I am still humoured in lit up; designation "Noob-Noob" had chanced across The Gentleman in a limited combat environment, but, as is the trouble with new models, had not been briefed beforehand, and lacked the appropriate tools for a strike himself. With little concern at this point for my divided allegiances, and other information already likely flowing, I reported The Gentleman's tenuous position to him. Or, at least, I tried to. Several newfangled digital communicaes and two sonic links later, all failed, I resorted to a method of message conveyance that was outdated before even I came to be; running. An enhanced motor unit such as myself could cross the distance in perhaps 6 minutes. By the time I was moving to position, designation "Ivanova Koestler " was also en route, adequately laden with hardware, such that I fully expected The Gentleman to have been eliminated by time I arrived. Fortunately, neither police unit had been prepared with appropriate software, it seemed, and conflicting attempts to upload from other users for them to access proved less than fruitful. The presence of a civilian of high regard dissuaded them from running a basic attack program, so they stood, paralysed, awaiting reboot. As a result, they were still in standby when I arrived (slightly short of steam pressure) and passed by both unmolested. I nonchalantly joined The Gentleman and his companion droid; not a single optical sensor cover was raised.

The Gentleman was presumably not expecting me to appear. He had, however become acutely aware of his predicament, both potential assailants known to and in full view of him, one even having chosen as a custom adornment for his combat casing his own serial number across the back. I was pleasantly surprised to find that laid out on the table was perhaps the most significant of possible armaments for the environment; neither my detachable extending blade nor puncturing unit proved necessary. Designation "Brian Bay " (also under equipped) and even Cornelius Gray himself had also announced their impending arrivals; our position was becoming increasingly untenable. We discussed possible extractions without resort to violence, reassured by the continued presence of the civilian of high regard. Dismissing these, I attempted without success (and still somehow without detection) to source a non-lethal incapacitating device from the far side of the sustenance facility we were in. The Gentleman then suggested I disable the units more violently for him. I dismissed the idea, the prospect of me turning on the force any more overtly than I already had being unthinkable. He persisted, however. At that point, I should have done one of several things. I could have instead struck The Gentleman down, but he had a record of somehow making erstwhile allies miserable from beyond the grave; I suspected he'd taken steps to ensure the information I sought to protect would become public had he not survived, since entwining our fates was the best way to ensure my obedience. I should also have found the most prominent platform around and, with my most powerful of sonic emitters, made public my secret; the consequences might have been diabolical, but the hold The Gentleman had over me would have vanished. There were many things I should have done. What I shouldn't have done was decommission the two agents. The things one should do because that are right are rarely the same as what one does instead because it is easier and less painful, as I've been finding frequently of late in my numerous attempts to delay my own inevitable pain.

Ivanova Koestler had, in a woefully belated bid to maintain a low profile, vacated line of sight, and I took that moment to strike. Noob-Noob had his back to us as he exhausted the last of his sustenance. For all his modern, customised battle armour, it probably couldn't have deflected much more than indirect projectiles; my "outdated" hydraulic puncturing unit had no difficulty splitting his casing from the side, and rupturing his right air filtration cavity, which promptly filled with oil, and seized. I barely had time to sit across from the unit and express my lament before it was no longer functional. I returned to The Gentleman, who, with little sympathy, directed me to neutralise Ivanova Koestler too. My will to resist already broken, I loaded a more audacious combat routine; I would have to approach the unit head on, moving from one chamber to another in the process, and attack directly. It might normally have been risky, but not for me; the unit before me was unfamiliar with my appearance or combat style, and lacked the confidence to take risks without direction. While my distaste for blue on blue combat remained present, my self-preservation subroutines had at least activated, dumping emergency fuel enhancement into the steam that flowed through me, giving me energy and confidence, for the moment. I received little more than a disinterested look up from my victim's communication array as I drew unnaturally close in the wide antechamber, and used my hydraulic puncturing unit to rend the second set of armour in a matter of seconds, this time in the front center, to the main power reactor core. The unit made a slight move to stop me, long after it was already too late, and none of the drivers for any combat hardware were activated. We still needed to extract however, and the video feed from the final moments of the two droids would have gone to Cornelius Gray on their deactivation; he would know what I'd done. I still cling to the hope that he will never find out why.

I returned to The Gentleman, who had finished with his own sustenance, and prepared to escort him to safety. I was returning what we attempted to improvise as a non-lethal incapacitating device to the position I found it from so as to disguise evidence of my presence, when Brian Bay appeared at that inopportune moment. As had already been made clear, the unit's hardware was lacking, a non-lethal incapacitating device being the only functioning method of combat available, since I had already disposed of Ivanova Koestler and the reserve supply of hardware held therein. After Brian Bay struck The Gentleman, our optic sensors met across the chamber. As much as the device would be less effective on me than it had been on the now crumpled figure of The Gentleman, I still had no desire to receive any impromptu percussive maintenance of my own. I withered slightly under the gaze of one I knew to be a threat, but an emergency subroutine forced me to stand my ground; this unit had no reason to expect I was in proximity, had no file on me in their data banks, and had no reason to think there was any cause for alarm. After a moment, the police unit disregarded me, and turned to leave. With my superior armaments, I could have eliminated this 3rd unit, but I still had limited desire for oilshed, and it seemed an unnecessary risk; with no means of permanent harm, it had completed the only possible programme and already begun to extract. Had I been incapacitated in a fight, nobody would have been able to carry The Gentleman away, and the unit could have raised the alarm for another unit to arrived and disable myself and The Gentleman; I let it leave. From there, it was a conveniently short distance to The Gentleman's extraction point; I carried him there, and deposited him into safety.

My task complete, I now needed to escape; Cornelius Gray could send more units after me at any moment. I went with The Gentleman's companion droid to his holding quarters, where I would collect my travel hardware. From there, I would travel on foot, over encumbered and under armed to the heart of police territory. After that, I would board a public conveyance vessel that would deposit me at a personal conveyance craft I had arranged, with which I would make good my own extraction. It would be easy from the public craft onwards. Until then, circumstances continued to be unfavourable at every opportunity; at the outer door of The Gentleman's quarters, his droid and I encountered Cornelius Gray, or rather, a remote combat apparition thereof. It was in full combat gear, and a projectile emitter was visible protruding from an external storage compartment. My ranged weapons were in less accessible storage at my rear. Fortunately, Cornelius Gray's avatar was focused on his communication array, so I had closed with him before he detected me. I didn't want to harm Cornelius Gray. Then again, I hadn't wanted to do anything that had occurred after lunch that day. Knowing that he'd be aware of the fate of his most disposable of droids, I took action, utilising the same brazen initiative as I had on Ivanova Koestler. I produced my pneumatic puncturing device yet again, and struck out. His communication array in one hand, and trying to defend himself with the other, Cornelius Gray had no opportunity to access any combat hardware. I sliced through his arm and drew back for a follow up strike. His tech, however was advanced of his standard enforcers, as no sooner had I removed his arm than it had restored itself. I slashed through it again, and then again, my blade shattering with the force of clashing metal, my own ancient gears against new, highest quality, composite alloy of unknowable makeup. The shattered edge of blade was still sharp however; I thrust past the now flagging arm and forced the jagged edge of my broken weapon though Cornelius Gray's well polished but far from impregnable armour, into his power core. He crumpled backwards, lights dimming across his exterior, the unchecked heat of nuclear fusion spewing from the compromised core; I was glad my combustible ammunition was behind me. "Grow that back", I thought savagely.

This was a situation where one should be careful when they wish for. High density coolant foam billowed out from the wound, quelling the impending meltdown, and flushing out fragments of blade, and other foreign bodies, as well as spent fuel cells, when had reacted with whatever was in the foam to become encased in a dull grey material so dense that I no longer detected any radiation emanating from it, presumably some sort of boron product. Once the wound was clean, some kind of red wax now flowed into the wound and spilled outward, hardening on contact with the air, sealing the armour once again. Whirring motors announced the arrival to the reactor of new fuel cells from some internal storage compartment, and light flared as metals, plastics, and other materials were introduced to the damage, and fused by some source of heat. Cornelius Gray's personal combat avatar seemingly did not need a lengthy trip to a repair installation in order to be brought back online. Ironically, when he'd been in the process of designing the army that would make me obsolete, I advocated such systems be installed in all units; had he undertaken to do so, the two units I'd defeated previously could already have been upon me once more, and ready for combat this time. A tight fist is apparently the weakness of the foremost industrialist; when one has had a lifetime dedicated to acquiring wealth, it must be hard to let any go, even in outfitting one's own protection agents.

I retrieved my effects, and returned to find the glowing, smouldering and mechanical whirring were still in full swing, many lights now reignited on the avatar's external casing. I had to be gone quickly, before Cornelius Gray regained his link to the city proper, and the alarm was raised. Frequently having to stop and reconsider my route so as to avoid hives of police units, and spending more time than I'd have liked focused on my communication array in order to do so, I crossed fitfully through the streets. I'd never fled from anything, let alone an immortal army of those who were my allies mere minutes previously. The civilian transport was preparing to depart as I arrived at the port, but the queue was comical in length. I decided against waving my police id around in order to avoid it, fearful of drawing attention to myself while further police units (who had by now discovered the debris) were searching for answers. Threatening the civilians with a weapon seemed equally ill advised, so I stood vulnerable in the queue with limited visibility, few weapons, and no mobility. After what seemed like eons, I made it onto the transport, handed over a quantity of civilian money the value of which I had no idea, and with a blade extended from my ankle subtly severed the wiring between the communications antenna on the hull of the transport and the pilots cabin, which ran obligingly past the entryway until I cut it.

The civilian transport moved slowly, having to contend with other vehicles in a way that a police transport never did, and stopping frequently for more travellers. Cornelius Gray reestablished his link to the city as I was drifting away from it, his anger emanating in waves. No sensors detected me in the city. I had almost reached my personal craft by time an informer came forward to say they'd seen me board a transport. The order went out to halt all transports, but never made it to mine. A police gunship caught up to the craft just after it had landed, but one such as myself is not so bound as civilians to luxuries like waiting for transport to reach the ground before disembarking. I was in the private craft I had arranged, unregistered with the force, when the uniformed droids ejected everyone from the craft. When they found that I was not in the crowd they were holding, they surmised I was still hiding on board. I heard the blast as their cannons were turned on the empty craft, but had already moved off before a blockade could be thrown up. It would take them some time to work out I was not in the wreckage. I saw the glow of the burning craft on the horizon behind me as I sped away, making good my escape.


[12:15 PM] The Shadow Surfer gets more frustrated with the absence of others.
The Shadow Surfer reports:

This is beginning to get irritating

Today, I made yet another visit to the home of my good friend, Stacey. As I wandered up the twisted staircase of his dwelling, I heard the all–too–familiar hollow echoing of my own footsteps on the empty faded walls. I should have known, even as I cocked my Gray Pistol, that my travel would be in vain. I knocked carefully on his door, and had no response. I waited for a while, then decided to disappear before I aroused too much suspicion.

To my target: you may hide, you may disappear, but beware, for I will find you, in the end...

Having been disappointed with the outcome of this attempt, I met up with my reanimated associate, Reginald, and we went for an inco hunt

First stop was Uncreative pseudonym. Posing as simple salesmen, we knocked at the door of his residence. Unfortunately, we would not be selling him any Gray Corp. bullets today, as we received no response.

Our next stop was the home of Misty Patricia, who was also disappointingly absent.

Despite our efforts, we had not had success

The only thing that remained was to sadly check my empty credit chip, and return swiftly, into the shadows...

[14:04 PM] On the bus and away to adventure for Kriemhild Gretchen and Alisa Reinford!
Alisa Reinford reports:

Alisa was idling on her computer when a friend, Kriemhild Gretchen, messaged. She offered to go hunting some time today, so, given that she wasn't doing anything in particular, Alisa agreed and set off for her bus. She soon arrived at their meeting point and the two of them set off.

They hadn't seen each other in person in a while, so had a catch up on the way to their first target's abode. They looked around the building for a possible entryway. As they were contemplating trying a potentially suspicious entrance as the only was in they could see, a passing man let them in. Finding the room was easy. Kriemhild Gretchen drew her gun and Alisa knocked. There was no reply. She listened, there was no sound. He must be out, they decided, and continued to a nearby residence.

They chatted as they walked around the perimeter looking for a way in, but there weren't any other than the obvious doors they had initially seen which one does not simply enter without a keycard. As they were making their way out, a passing stranger was entering so they followed her. Alisa quickly found the first room, drew a sword, and knocked on the door. There was no reply or sign of life. They proceeded to the second room, and did the same thing, and were met with the same result.

Alisa and Kriemhild Gretchen then left the building, they must also be out. They had been in their rooms so it was a bit disappointing that no–one else seemed to be. Alisa still had no leads on the components she needed for her machine, and had hoped that one of these people would have been able to help. Hopefully her next target would.

[18:45 PM] The Empty Man finally makes a move again, his target, Electronite (Yanhao Wang)
The Empty Man reports:

The voices in his head had been strangely silent of late. He knew he was more lucid than he had been for months, but he also knew enough to fear – rightly – what this silence must mean.

They were waiting. They were watching. They were building something up. He had barely survived his last frenzy, the urge to kill had practically drained him dry, even now in his lucid state he could feel the gnawing sense of sheer terror and despair that had accompanied his previous two failures. I knew that another failure would not be tolerated. And so he knew, deep down, to fear the silence, for he could not risk learning to love it.

They wouldn't be done with him yet.

When it came, it wasn't an attack. Not frantic like the last time, but a slow, persistently growing feeling. As patient and inevitable as the movement of the great GrayCorp engines that wandered the outside world on unfathomable errands. He started seeing a face in his mind. One which did not come from his own thoughts. One he knew not to recognise. Hours later, a name, and a place. A growing, burning obsession. He must not forget. He must never forget. He is not his own person, he knows what he must do.

So, slowly dejectedly, he goes to kill once again. Knowing that if he fails this time he may never get to see his precious freedom, hear his precious silence ever again.

An easy infiltration leads the now imperceptibly twitching empty man to a door. The door is locked so he waits. A moment of panic. A face walks past. His target! He has missed him! He is too latetoo late toolatetoolate...

No. He will not succumb yet. He will control this and he will succeed.

Grimly he follows, controlling barely the frothing madness building in his head. He sees his target, he is sitting. He is eating. Is he... Is he oblivious? The empty man cannot wait any longer. Barely surpressing a shriek he runs forward and plunges the blade in.

The life drains out of the target's eyes, and peace flows in to those of the empty man.

[18:47 PM] Makishima goes wandering. That is all.
Makishima reports:

It's been a while since I got a kill, so I decided to try and rectify that today. I noticed someone was meant to have a lecture nearby at 11 so I arrived there early, when only ten or so people were there, and waited for them to show up. They did not. Interestingly someone who looked like an incompetent passed me at one point but I didn't know how to be sure it was them, and then suddenly they were in the lecture theatre. I went into the lecture theater to see if the person I had been planning to kill was already there, but there was no sign of them.

I then decided to attempt on an incompetent who lived nearby. I easily gained access to their accommodation and could hear some noise from their room. I tried gently opening the door, it was locked. I then knocked on the door and sidestepped it, waiting for them to emerge but they did not. They were definitely in as their peephole changed from light to dark, but sadly I hadn't thought of an excuse for my being there, and, not wanting to die to an incompetent, played it safe and left.

[19:08 PM] A fine bit of information gathering from Queenslayer lands her a clean kill on Alistair Chakravati (Anthony Lim)
Queenslayer reports:

Considering the difficulty of getting into Alistair Chakravati's accommodation, I found out he was a [REDACTED] and asked one of my friends for her lecture timetable – a compulsory [REDACTED] was on Friday so I planned my attack with my fellow accomplice Sarandei.

We intended to wait for him after he had finished so he would be tired and unaware, arriving twenty minutes or so early. We saw the students come out from another door to the one we were waiting outside so we followed behind before we noticed Alistair Chakravati pass us. I ran after him and shot him with my gun at the back of his head and he turned around, looking drawn out.

"What?" He said, confused.

"Alistair Chakravati?" I confirmed.


"Okay. Bye. "

Alistair Chakravati reports:

I got hit by an assassin with a water short at the back of my neck as I was walking back from the [REDACTED] room =)

[21:20 PM] Queenslayer and Hazie go hunting but only find dead assassins
Hazie reports:

The moon had come out, the night was calm and my desire for blood to spill was burning. I sent a quick short message to my accomplice Queenslayer, "Town, 9pm." She didn't even need to reply as I know Queenslayer's thirst for kills wouldn't let her miss a hunt in a million years.

The clock struck 9 and we met up and head off to [REDACTED] College. We stopped to buy some sushi but they closed the doors in our faces. This was the first disappointment, and sadly wasn't the last.

We arrived at our first target, Triple Nipple, and moments later we managed to infiltrate into his building and arrive in front of his door. Queenslayer knocked on the door and explained our reason of knocking with her soft voice. Our poor victim was enchanted by the sound and opened the door without a second thought and ended up face to face with my gun. I pulled the trigger with all my might and even though the headshot was sufficient, I could not contain myself from making my victim similar to holy cheese. His last words were, "I was already killed" which was enough to wipe the grin off my face.

Devastated, I walked over to an inco and my target's room Hides-From-View. Each step we took echoed in the courtyard and the blood of Triple Nipple on our shoes shined in the moonlight. We had no time for games, we rang her bell, she came out her room, Queenslayer distracted her while I shot her in the arm and chest. I finally felt the satisfaction after smelling the blood dripping towards the stairs when I heard the same haunting words... "I was killed". I felt time stop and could hear the blood rush to my head. I dashed out, and ran in the night trying to find one person who I could kill. I had never felt this desperate in my life as an assassin. The clock was ticking and we eventually ended up in [REDACTED], the home of an inco I had visited before. She was unfortunately not in her room (lucky for her) so I left without looking back. The disappointment brought back memories, it was as heavy as the time I found out I had to wait 2 years to watch new episodes of my favourite series.

While leaving [REDACTED] I saw my final target, Makishima, who I have had on my list for a very long time but have never wanted to attack due to a common ally. My close friend was walking with him to the bar, so I linked in her arm and went with them while signalling Queenslayer to head back home. After thinking of turning back every step I took, I realized I might never get this chance again and I was too desperate after being so unsuccessful one after the other. Hearing stories from our mutual ally, I knew he was very experienced so I had to wait for the perfect moment before I could attack. He quickly went to the bar and ordered a drink, of course he was too wise to sit around in danger. My chance had gone, and I had used up all of my patience for the night so I left and ended my night of hunting. I will be out hunting again soon, but this time I will not be disappointed.

[22:00 PM] Professor Incompetent proves themselves to be more incompetent than previously thought
Professor Incompetent reports:

In an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, an antique television sparks to life. Snippets of a passionate monologue are heard through the static...

'...nk you can hide yourself!? I kno...'

'...hind a decoy!? My sources ar...'


' Gnaagnaaaww GNAW! Gn...'


A spanner breaks the screen. As he wipes sweat and grease off his brow, the smile across Professor Incompetent's face cracks wider.

'Sooon...' he giggles, 'All will kneeeel...'

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