Under the Gun

[hooliganstatus]

WHO: Aeon Flux Monica Distalus and you!
WHERE: The City
WHAT: Misadventures with a Merc
WHEN: Throughout the event!
WARNINGS: The Hellfire Club prompt has an outside link in case there's any NSFW content there. :) Otherwise I'll label anything as it comes up.

The Advertisement
In the latest edition of the newspaper, there's a plain ad: a triangle with a pop-art eye in the middle, its lashes long and bold. Above the logo are the words "Services Rendered". Below it: "Place Personal Ad In Best Foot Forward Magazine. Address To A.F."

The Hellfire Club - outside link for potential NSFW content
Maybe you're already a member. Maybe you found a way in otherwise. But if you're interested in the darker, steamier side of life, you might find yourself at Monica's workplace, The Hellfire Club. Or maybe you just wanted to get a hold of her and didn't know how to otherwise...? If that's the case, you're in for some interesting atmosphere.

The Mercenary
Aeon blends with the shadows in her black leather pants and jacket, a gun and a grappling cable at her hips. Whatever her target is tonight, she's not letting anything distract her from it --

-- hm, except for maybe that movement in the alley below that should, by all intents, not be there. She's canvassed the area and made herself familiar with its regular comings and goings, and this isn't one of them. Even if it's some mugger with a knife, she's not worried. She hooks her grapple over the edge of a roof and slides down to ground level to confront whoever's there. Whether it's you or she's accidentally your savior remains to be seen...

Wildcard
((Have we already planned something out? Would you rather do something else? Put it here!))

Comments

goodie goodie <3

[hooliganstatus]

The well-dressed politician was on his way back from some late tryst or meeting, his long black coat pulled tightly around him despite the cold. Aeon's guess was that he was hiding some sort of document, and he carried a cane with him as he walked. She listened closely to the sound it made as it hit the concrete of the sidewalk, trying to decide if it might hide a blade. The intel had told her their mutual target, one Christopher Dukakis, was once a fencing champion, and given his involvement in several Russian mafia deals, he was no stranger to threats. The Syth family didn't like to leave loose ends.

The loose end who had survived Dukakis' latest attempt to silence their witnesses had hired her to make sure he lived through the trial, rightfully not trusting the police. She fixed the sniper sight onto her rifle and zoomed in ... only to see a canvas cloth over a shuttered street vendor stall flutter as though something had brushed it, nearby.

"Hmm."

[noch]

The streets are empty and quiet, and no one is around—or so Merrin thinks. It's the perfect place to ambush her target. Releasing the spell that keeps her invisible, she appears in front of Dukakis as if stepping wholesale out of a cloud of green smoke. Her hood and cowl are pulled up to hide her hair and the lower half of her face, so that only her eyes are visible, reflecting the green glow of her ichor.

Dukakis isn't a slouch, at least, and he immediately moves into a defensive position, that cane angled out in front of him. Merrin's eyes narrow, but she doesn't otherwise pay it any attention. His voice is condescending when he asks what she wants—he probably expected something like this.

"Answers," she replies flatly, taking a step towards him.

[hooliganstatus]

"Ah-ah-ah, little cardinal," Aeon whispers to herself, readying to move if she has to. Dukakis is her mark, and she'll be damned if she lets some other superpowered girl take what amounts to a good three months' rent from her.

But answers can be worth something in her trade, as well, so she waits to see what happens. One hand goes to her grappling gun, though, and she's ready to use it and reveal her presence if she has to.