Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190520181834/@comment-5543592-20190608124011

Reno was a handful of things. Dirty. Corrupt. Maybe evil, if you spun it the right way. Dead wasn’t one of them. There was a reason they used to call it “The Biggest Little City in the World.” A stupid name made up by stupider people, but it wasn’t inaccurate.

Randall pruned the blade of his knife, looking out over it. He wondered if they still remembered him here, but didn’t care much. His life here had been empty. Soulless. It felt like a bad dream compared to what had followed. In the grand scheme of the nightmare that had been Randall’s life, Reno was worst of it. Joining the Yakuza had been the best thing he’d ever done—it’d put this city behind him. And now he was back.

The air hummed, not perceptibly, anyone else would’ve missed it, but just enough for Randall turn his head in the right direction, so that he could stare straight at Shrike when she appeared. He grinned wide at her. It was important, when faced with an animal that was bigger and tougher than you were, to appear as if you weren’t frightened by it. The more cornered you were, the less you acted like it bothered you, the harder you hit.

“Havin’ trouble?” Randall drawled.

Shrike looked little worse for wear than she had a few hours ago. Her armor was scored, marked by blades and bullets. The woman herself appeared uninjured, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been bled.

“Josey’s teleporter shorted out when it came into contact with other Big Mountain technologies.” Shrike said, shortly. “It placed me in Portugal.”

Randall cocked his head at that. “Where? That in Florida?”

“Never mind.” The hitwoman crossed the room to him, where he was looking out the window, watching the Bishops’ casino. “Have you noticed anything?”

“Nah.” Randall said, edge of his knife screeching as he drew a stone across it. “Not a thing. Ain’t a problem yet. People like them… won’t come out ‘till night falls. That’s when we see how they move.”

“I only care to see if they do something different.” Shrike said. “It means someone talked to them.”

“Don’t see why you care.”

“In war, you feel out your enemy’s lines of communication first, where their information comes from.” Shrike said. “They’re too prepared for me to make it efficient. I won’t be able to get them all in one go. But if I can trace their paths, know where they’ll go, how they react, I pick them off at which point.”

“Why’re you telling me any of this, I don’t care.” Randall said, looking down.

“I’m including you in my plans.” Shrike said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You wanted information.”

“I only care about one kinda information. Lady, if you ain’t going to help me, I’ll just go to the Denis guy myself.”

“He’d sooner shoot you.”

“Then, I’ll, eh, cut his hands off first. The longer you dance around it, the less I think you know.”

“You don’t honestly believe I’d lie?”

“Fuck, you’re capable of a lot more than lying.” Randall sat back in his seat, getting a good, genuine chuckle out of that. It sounded like a pair of dice rattling around in an empty can. “I think pulling my fucking leg would be by far the softest of the shit you’ve done.”

“Randall.” Shrike began, patiently, but a dangerous edge was beginning to work its way into her words. “I’m a lot of things. But a liar isn’t one of them. I keep my word.”

He only grumbled with begrudging acceptance. He supposed that was true enough. “Don’t see any reason you have to not kill me too once this is over.” He muttered.

“Maybe I will.” Shrike said, smirking. “But you’ll probably try to kill me first. I won’t feel too guilty.” She turned from him. “Do as I’ve said. I have other things to take care of.”

“Got away from you again, didn’t he?” Randall said quickly, before she was gone. She halted in her tracks. “Wales. Hell, not just him now. All of ‘em? All fucking slipped out of your fingers. Had ‘em all, and lost ‘em all too.” He laughed, mockingly. “Oh man, I wished I coulda seen the look on your face. Bet it was priceless.”

Shrike said nothing, and vanished without a sound.

“Don’t know nothing about no fucking samurai.” Randall spat at where she had been standing a moment before. “Arrogant bitch.”

She had him by the balls—no, by the throat. That was a more accurate analogy. And as long as the jaws were tight, he had to do as she said. But when they loosened, Randall’d slip free and be gone. Everyone let their guard down soon enough, even people like her. All Randall needed was one moment. Caesar, the NCR, those volcano people. If Randall was good at one thing, it was getting out of tough situations. This wasn’t like any other. At least, he told himself as much.

"Partner, you can tell all that 'cause I missed a clay pigeon?" Josey said, sounding pretty skeptical of Tyrus voodoo-zen bullshit. "Best time to shoot someone is when you're angry.  Angry makes you tough.  Angry gets shit done."