Cayrn slipped into the slums. -- Cybertronian Slums

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Date Posted: 17:12:00 08/07/01 Tue
Author: Cayrn
Subject: Cayrn slipped into the slums.

She had to get in contact with her organization abut the situation in the streets. If there were other contracts out on the fattened senators, it would be good if she knew that fanatics were trying their hands at the Art instead of professionals.

She passed by Stump as he stumbled towards the park. The fellow was a bit of a legend in these parts. She knew that some people were making bets as to when he would either another limb or an organ. The poor guy didn't know how much some people noticed him.

Stump left her mind as soon as he was outside of kicking distance. She passed a group of sleazy nebulan pimps who were also pushing bad energon to some sorely addicted preds. Up on the corner there was a group of pred thugs waiting to get the pimps although the pimps were armed to the teeth and these preds only had a few teeth left.

Cayrn continued walking down the blemish of the 'Jewel of the Heavens' making her way to Moal.

Moal was an old maximal who went through the reformating from his old body and right back to it like an eternal prison. His eyes were sewn and welded shut but he had long said that he had no use for them. He spoke in code more often than not and most of the fanatics stood around him listening to his babble about the dread politicians. She didn't much care for the politababble but he had some connections in the cred unions and her contracts wound up being pretty pricey. Her and the rest of the guild were pretty well versed on that count although the amount of packages to be delivered had diminished over the last years.

This new contract, the Senators, was a long time and coming. She took it on for much less the quoted price only because she did see some righteousness in it. The fact that the fat of the land would finally know what thinness felt like, well, that was almost joy enough.

Almost.

The acid rain began to pour down. An expected occurance in these areas of Cybertron where most of the regenerators exhaust fumes tended to coalesce and do horrendous things to the air around. Many of the Nebulans and Humans suffered from all types of respitory diseases while many of the TF's tried to remain in robot form so as to avoid the fumes.

Many were sick anyway.

She entered the ramshackled building which some called, mockingly, "Fortress Maximus". Others, the more stable types, dubbed it "The Fort". Pieces were torn down all over the place and where there should have been a roof or a water tower there was only rubble and sky.

She stepped over a board and responded to the bark from the dark. Some max (or pred...she had never really seen him) known only as Hound growled at her. She hissed and clicked in the back of her throat then said the password.

"In." Hound barked and she made her way in, avoiding that darkened section of the Fort.

Into the heart of the Fort she walked, making sure that her weapons were ready. She didn't fear an attack in here, nor did she really consider even being really in danger...but she was pragmatic at heart and never the fool. She had seen cocky types quickly get taken down when they were in mid-strut.

There, she saw his form, laying on the old lifted stage of the amphitheatre. Some of the chairs were still intact but many of them were destroyed. None slept here save Moal. None dwelled here save Moal.

She smelled him before he even acknowledged her presence...it was always this way.

Moal lifted his head...

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Replies:

Cayrn, anger sated or ego diverted... -- Moal, 09:23:31 09/08/01 Sat
- She was brief with her explanation of recent events... -- Caryn, 12:46:10 08/12/02 Mon