Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26104528-20170312033542/@comment-26104528-20171008052806

"Well, if he makes better engines..." Fritz sniffed around, rhetorically of course. "I smell a data hiest coming..." he started grinning, his voice becoming sing-song.

"I miss those days..." Ingraham mused as he reached for a napkin. Despite a good number of Flagg's attack dogs enjoying the fight against Master's Realm, niether Fritz nor Ingraham were in that number. Like a good amount of the Eliminator population (coincidentilly, the ones who didn't come from a background of nonstop violence and fighting), all they particularly cared for was being able to cash in the next check. To keep said checks coming in you A. obviously have to be alive and B. have a good reputation so clients keep coming to you. The war against the Realm did not complement either of those things well. Before they and Flagg were dragged them into war, every contract was as self-contained as you made it (obviously if you leave too many bodies and tracks, expect comeuppence later that week); your only long-term thinking in that context was covering your tracks and leaving a good impression. Nothing was ever personal and that's how he liked it; now, everything was personal. Fritz thought back to what he walked into at Grillby's the day after the 3 Krakens Incident...

7 pm and nigh starving, Fritz sauntered into the ever-popular eatery at the Ground floor of Coronado. Estellia already said she wouldn't be home until 10 so no need to wait around for her.

Gonna get a bowl of Tavern Mac for me and a Chorizo Mac for her an-

"AND THATS WHY THIS WHOLE THING IS A GIANT LOAD OF DROL!!!" Rainier yelled out, pounding the table, with thankfully the only casualties being a few shelled peanuts which were promptly pulled out and away from him with a mini-Singularity right into Loretta's hand. Popping them into her mouth, a brief expression of content was on her face before it quickly returned to a face of contempt as she glared at the wall.

"Wow...banned from ever going to Mistral? Th-that's impressive." the bartender replied, pouring Rainier another glass of bourbon from his special 'watered down' bottle. A nessecary evil that had to be taken; drunken cyborgs (or anyone for that matter) weren't known for being easy to negotiate with but just filling them up with more booze made the question of 'will someone get injured?' to 'who is getting injured first?'

"The things we do to save the world, am I right?" Loretta grumbled as she kept munching on peanuts.

"Aye, but was saving the world ever in our contract?!" Rainier snapped as he swiped the glass of bourbon from the bartender and slammed it down. "if it weren't for that damn Huntress and all her damn pilots, maybe I'd be able to pay the landlord this month!" he sighed, sliding the empty glass to the bartender who went on to repeat the same tired process. "If it weren't for that damn Realm, maybe I wouldn't be fucking myself over like this..."

"We're not cut out to be heroes Rainy..." the crocodile patted the archer on the shoulder as he sank deeper into himself. "We're not used to sacrifice..."

"It's simple, Mr. Silverwood."

"Our mission is to Secure the Future by Spearheading Technology." she almost perfectly echoed the mission statement found on Flagg's public website. "Unfortunatly, Master's Realm is making that...difficult..." Honara plugged a headset into her scroll and started out of the office and towards the elevator.

"Flagg believes that good ethics make for a long and healthy business and we tried to participate in Remnant's faction politics with a stance of neutrality but not having allies makes us too easy of a target."

"We're here to make money, and being corrupt and immoral is great way to sabotage ourselves in the long-run. So rest assured, your efforts are going into to right side." Honara realized her tone, despite it usually being very corporate, was most likely a good deal more corporate than most would find comfortable.

"Sorry if I sounded a little 'cold'. It's just that I'm tired of people mistaking us for having political agendas. The truth is we don't, not large ones like the Realm. And it's hard to do war profiteering when you're the one being targeted." this time, she sounded much more casual than the last time she talked with Wolfe.

---

"That would be wise of you." she stepped on after him. "In order to disguise ourselves as the wolves, we must act like the wolves. An action I wish we did not have to take..." her voice grew somber as she remembered how much lava dust they had packed in preperation for this mission. Even the most skilled of dust casters struggled to land precise hits with that sort of stuff.

"But you should beware; an assassin will bring a sharper sword if he sees you have worn a thick coat and not every message is read only by its reciever..."

"I will let you make your own decisions though."