Mega Man Battle Network: Digital Resonance

[bury the year]

(OOC)

 

Saturday, October 5^th, 20XX

Imbrium City, Eastern District

 

The morning air was cold and crisp against Ryan’s skin as he stepped outside. The Northeast was never a particularly forgiving place, weather-wise. It was always either biting and windy or hot and sticky, neither of which were any fun. However, sweating wasn’t Ryan’s style, so this suited him just fine.

 

Shivering slightly as he stepped outside of his apartment building, he zipped his sweatshirt hood up more and pulled his iPod out of his pocket. As Ryan held the button to boot it up, the screen flickered to life, revealing Ballade’s face glowering slightly.

 

“G’morning,” Ballade said, his voice echoing through the earbuds that had been shoved into Ryan’s ears. “Your schedule is off, you realize.”

 

“Ten minutes isn’t ‘off’ by any means, Ballade.” Ryan refrained from rolling his eyes, because the little device had not only speech but also visual recognition. “Besides, you had a rough night yesterday with that swarm of viruses. Shouldn’t you appreciate the break?”

 

“I’m a program, Ryan,” Ballade said humorlessly, cocking his head to one side habitually. “It’s not like I’d be able to detect stuff going on while I’m in sleep mode.”

 

Ryan was silenced for a moment. “Right,” he responded. “Remind me to reconfigure your personality at some point – you’re such a bore.” He found his little procession had deposited him at the downtown intersection, where he could see a Starbucks right across the street. Bingo. There was breakfast.

 

“So. What’s going on?”

 

---

 

Ryan’s iPod

 

In the iPod’s Comp Space, Ballade was busy manipulating a series of panels that were flashing around him, each one with a thick scrawling of text coating it. With a single touch to each, they arranged themselves in various folders in front of the Navi. “Just organizing your email. You need to stop signing up to these mail chains. Half of them you don’t read anymore.”

 

“Your point?”

 

“I have none. It’s only more work for me, that’s all.” The last colorful panel flitted into its respective floating folder, after which they all vanished. “Any plans for today?”

 

“Not really,” Ryan shrugged, the background of the video feed showing him crossing the street. “Just plan on searching around for some more job openings.”

 

“Are you really still looking for something else?” Ballade asked, a tinge of curiosity in his voice. “You’re good enough at what you do.”

 

“Not good enough to do it ten hours a day. I swear, my boss is some kind of workaholic neo-Nazi.”

 

The Navi shrugged. “Suit yourself. Once you get to Starbucks, which is where I presume you’re going, log me onto the network so I can help.”

 

Ryan chuckled. “A Navi giving me orders? What is the world coming to?”

 

“Could be worse.”

 

---

 

Your current goal is to have either your operator or your Navi somehow get to the Starbucks area/Comp Space. Feel free to socialize, but don't hog the post order. Everyone should get a turn.

[~Tico~]

Shawn lay face-down on the bed, his eyes closed and a slight snore coming from his lips. In his sleep, he looked peaceful, almost like a young child with few concerns and dreaming some happy illusion conjured from the depths of his mind. It wasn't to last long, though.

 

A low buzzing sound filled the air. No response. Shawn merely mumbled something and turned over. Another buzz, louder this time. Still nothing. The face of the Navi within Shawn's iPhone sighed, before heading out of view for a moment. Silence. Then...

 

BEEEEP! The extremely loud sound of a alarm blared out, harsh and clear. Shawn's eyes snapped open and he hurriedly sat up, shaking his head as if he'd just been dunked in a pool of cold water. His heart rate slowly settling back to normal, he picked up his iPhone.

 

"Dammit, Mistil," he said, scowling indignantly down at his Navi, "Did you have to give me a heart-attack just to wake me up?"

 

Mistilteinn shrugged. "Generally, Shawn, nothing short of a earthquake or flash flood will have you up at this time. And even as forgiving as your boss may be, I will tolerate you being late.

 

Shawn huffed, but made no response as he blearily walked over to the bathroom. About seven minutes later, he ambled his way out and over to the closet opposite, where he began picking out clothes for the day. "Don't forget your headphones." Mistil called sarcastically.

 

Fitting his shirt over his head, Shawn made no response until he had finished dressing. "You know I never forget them." As he spoke, he walked over to his nightstand, where his headphones lay. Setting them around his neck, he picked up his iPhone again. "So, where shall breakfast be? I don't fancy going to work on an empty stomach."

 

Inside the phone's Comp Space, Mistil's hands moved non-stop as he consulted various screens of data. "There's a Starbucks a few streets down, if you don't mind."

 

Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. Oh, whatever. It'll do." Jamming his iPhone into his pocket, he headed over to the door and yanked it open, shivering slightly at the cold. Looks like another long, long day is ahead.

[Agro]

Alder hardly looked up from his laptop computer as he heard the click of an entering navi on the larger of the two displays surrounding his bed. This main one, hanging on the wall Alder faced, was primarily used for television by its previous owner, but currently Alder was using it as his system check, making sure everything was running smoothly. The other was just a smaller monitor hanging on the side, fully functioning as a computer, but he'd hardly used it unless his laptop would not get the job done.

 

Suddenly a bright light flashed around the screen to his right, causing him to flinch and cover his eyes. "Damnit, Drag! Why do you always do that?"

 

The Navi who'd decided to take up his main residence in the less-than-often-used Main television monitor chuckled at his operator's reaction to him opening the shades on the windows. "Because you've been staring at that screen for the past eight hours. You didn't get a wink of sleep all night and your parents are worried. Being bedridden is in no way an excuse for you to avoid the outside world for a while and stare at a screen, in fact, it should have been a wake up sign for you to stop for a while."

 

"Pft, fine. But if that's the case," He reached for the remote to the t.v. and pointed it at it, "Guess there's no reason to talk to you while you're on one, righ-? Wait a minute.... what did you say about my parents?"

 

"They're worried about you. You came out here to get rest, not to work yourself harder than what got you in this situation in the first place!"

 

"Dragoman, you told them? I told you they didn't have to know! Why didn't you listen to me?"

 

"My primary function is keeping you healthy, not following your orders to the absolute."

 

Alder sighed, closing the laptop and setting it on the nightstand to his left. "Fine. What did they have to say?"

 

"Well, first and foremost, stop working so hard."

 

"They've been saying that for years. I have a project to get done and I promised by boss that I'd have it done last year in a years time. I have three weeks remaining, and I'm still a bit too far to get anything done." Alder slid down on his pillows until he was actually laying straight. "I can't just ignore that promise now cause of some stupid illness."

 

"I thought you'd say that, so I told them the same thing."

 

"And?"

 

"Well, first off, your mother said that your boss supported their decision so you probably needn't worry about the promise." Dragoman paused, understanding that Alder's promise was more to himself than anyone else. "More importantly, they said that if you insist on continuing this project, especially at the pace you're working on, to avoid problems, you should consider hiring a proper assistant."

 

"Well, there's probably someone I can find for that at the company, right?"

 

"Unfortunately, no. I've already spoken with your boss and he said that he gave you leave until your condition got better. At a minimum you can't actually have contact with them until next month."

 

"But by then it'd be too late!"

 

"Exactly why I've already decided that we should look elsewhere."

 

"Huh? But where, I don't know anyone in this city, so even if we are in Imbrium, I'd probably have a hard time finding someone to assist me, especially when you consider that I'm not really all that well known here and that this kind of program requires a high amount of knowledge and precision to accomplish."

 

"That may be so, but I've been going around the towns net, already looking for where I could find some help."

 

"By yourself again?" Alder sighed. "I told you not to do that, it's really dangerous to go onto the net without me operating."

 

---

 

Inside the Monitor

 

"Don't you know me? I think I can handle myself."

 

"You say that, but there was that time where yo-."

 

"DON'T remind me." In truth, he HAD gotten his ass whooped several times by some gangs of navis. "That was a long time ago, it's not going to happen now."

 

"Yeah, cause three months is SO long ago."

 

"HEY, I SAID DON'T TALK ABOUT IT. Now I'm leaving to look for an assistant, you'd better get some sleep while I'm gone, alright?"

 

Drago sighed himself as Alder nodded and lay down flat on the bed, looking very much like he'd go to sleep. Dragoman hid himself on the screen, still watching as Alder sat up and reached for the laptop, only to find that he could not open it.

 

"Na-ah-ahhh!" Drago mused as he made himself once again visible. "I've put that comp under lock and key, no working until you've gotten to at least your age groups minimum required hours of sleep, got it?"

 

"Got it..." Dragoman smiled as Alder finally gave in and laid his head on the pillows. He was stubborn sometimes when it came to these issues, but at least he was dedicated to something.

 

Quickly, he turned and headed towards the warp hole in the terminal, that would connect him to the net. He'd looked around the city's mainframe extensively, and he'd found several places where he may find a potential assistant. Knowing Alder, if he was able to find one, he'd be paid well and treated well. Even with an assistant, Alder would still try to take a bulk of the work, so it would probably be a very easy job, maybe too easy. Hopefully he'd find someone willing to help out and force Alder to share the workload.

 

The first stop would be the Starbucks, since there were Navis there day in and day out checking the BBS there. It'd be best to leave a message there to look for assistance.

[Hydra of Ages]

Arthur Huntsman entered Starbucks with a severe look on his face, brown eyes quickly flicking to the faces other patrons of the cafe- only a second's glance to determine if anyone was a possible threat. Familiar faces would talk, opportune cameramen that could make life rather difficult for him- even an overly chatty gossip could complicate matters.

 

Fortunately, the dreary mornings of the city drew little but inattentive day sleepers. Nobody he recognized, and certainly nobody who would attempt to look deeper than absolutely necessary on casual observation. Daysleepers.

 

Pacified for the moment, Arthur let his facade drop a little. Gone was the exhausting long-strided walk, the specific poise she held herself into against the will of her proportions, the air of vague dominance and superiority- useful tools to authenticate her disguises developed over many years of course, but unnaturally stiff all the same. Under usual circumstances, assuming a public area like this was enough of a 'safe zone' to drop her carefully developed mannerisms wouldn't even occur to her- but the night had been long, and she was feeling tired in general. Even that slight bit of relaxation she could afford herself was a divine blessing in and of itself.

 

She went to the counter and ordered a tall, dark coffee, feigning surprise when the cashier noticed she didn't give quite the exact change- she pocketed the small coppers from the 'take a penny' pile off to the side along with her change, once she rectified her 'mistake'.

 

She sat down at a single-person table, took a sip of her coffee, then subtly shifted so she could reach into her coat, pulling out her blackberry and the pair of earbuds connected to it. She tapped the screen a couple times to wake it up, entered her passcode, then sighed slightly as the blank background booted up with nothing in the foreground. She clicked an icon a couple times in annoyance.

 

"Hey..a-aaww-aw... It's still nap time. Why are you still up, Art?" a femine voice groaned into her ear as her navi woke from sleep mode not without regret. "You're nuts still being awake today... And why are we at a coffee shop? Oh, don't tell me you're substituting caffeine for sleep- that's just not healthy."

 

"Nevermind that, Arcanum," she said only slightly above a whisper, "I need you to go over the data again. I think I see a pattern starting to emerge..."

 

"So do I. You run around all night, make me do all the heavy cyber lifting, then decide to drag me down in your unhealthy sleep deprivation torture. Look, both of us need to let our systems refresh every day to work at optimal efficiency, why do you insist on pulling these all-nighters? I'm sure real detectives get plenty of sleep..."

 

"I don't care either way. I'm just doing what I need to to solve the case. Now, if we examine the matrix I assembled yesterday from an assumed western-postition, then I think we can clearly-"

 

Arthur wasn't looking at her blackberry's visual screen then, but she didn't need to. Arcanum's bleary-eyed objections and early morning rants were so ritual that she could probably predict the remainder of the conversation to the word, if she wanted to. The purple-robed arcanist was undoubtedly sitting back and giving her one of those withering glances usually reserved for when she shoplifted.

 

"Oh not this again. Look, I'm sure you know that I know you just run around like a hooligan all night because it makes work feel more exciting to you. You know, sleep can be exciting too- dream subroutines are interesting, and I'm sure biochemical ones are even better. Why don't you check them out one of these days? Never hurts to try something new. Like sleep."

 

"Run the matrix again, please," Arthur repeated.

 

Arcanum sighed, then pulled up a window "Fine. But you owe me for messing with my sleeping schedule."

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

Leroy Tracer continued to walk down the relatively empty morning streets, not really paying any attention to what, if anything, was going on around him. Watching over him was WraithMan, who'd been wandering inside the Comp Space of the Sony Ericsson smart-phone that Leroy kept stuffed in his jeans pocket, arms folded across the silver emblem on his breastplate.

 

"This idleness bores me," WraithMan muttered in a typically ghostly voice, causing Leroy to sigh briefly.

 

"Will you quit complaining for just one second?" Leroy asked spitefully, "We're not even supposed to be communicating with each other, and now you're just trying to draw attention to yourself."

 

"Like it matters," WraithMan scoffed, "If we get caught, it's the enemy's loss, not ours."

 

Leroy could only shook his head in response to that comment. WraithMan clearly didn't like the idea of laying low, even for a second, and would much rather fight whatever Navi would oppose him. True, WraithMan was a powerful Navi, which may provide valid reasoning for his usual high-and-mighty attitude, but he had yet to experience fighting more than one Navi at a time, or even one as powerful as Mirage was said to be. But alas, WraithMan would remain determined.

 

Silence ensued during the rest of the journey to Starbucks, which Leroy promptly entered upon locating it. Reaching for his wallet, Leroy fished out a $20 note, before returning that note to his pocket along with the wallet itself. The place itself had its number of Navi operators, but the queue didn't seem to be to long. As thus, it only took about a minute or two for Leroy to make all the way to the counter so he could place his order.

 

"Just gimme the usual; black espresso, two sugars," Leroy ordered, before taking a look to the side to se what was available to eat, "Hmm... screw it, I'll take a couple of those scones as well, if you please,"

 

He then gave the cashier his $20 dollar note. It was all creased and crinkled, but least it was still usable as money nonetheless.

 

"Your change, sir," the cashier stated, as he presented Leroy's change amongst his food items.

 

Leroy seated himself away from all the operators, as he pulled out his smart-phone, only to be 'greeted' by the pair of dark purple eyes on WraithMan's head, which was placed right in the centre of the screen, giving off a look of pure venom.

 

"Whatever you do, don't go invading other comp spaces," Leroy commanded.

 

"You try enduring this misery," WraithMan retorted.

[Nexev]

Elizabeth rose from her bed, shifting the copious amounts of jolly roger blankets off her as she did so. A low grumbling echoed from her stomach revealing one horrifying fact:

 

She was hungry. BUT she already ate the last of the chinese yesterday, their is nothing to eat.

 

What if she stares? Then she will faint in class... then she will be taken to the hospital AND PEOPLE WILL ASK HER WHAT'S WRONG!

 

AND SHE WILL HAVE TO ANSWER!

 

Elizabeth pulled out her cell phone, and shook it, hoping her navi would be able to solve this dilemma.

 

"Yohohoho so you need food? Well then why not just take it?" Pirateman's booming voice echoed from the cellphone. "I heard there be a cafe nearby, why not see if we can't get us some muffins? I promise there won't be many people."

 

Elizabeth hesitated but nodded, she knew college life was risky, if she couldn't go to a abandoned cafe she will never survive in the world.

 

Besides who even likes Starbucks?

 

Picking up her suitcase and wearing her helmet, Elizabeth walked outside where SHE waited. The Golden Hind, the greatest motorcycle Elizabeth ever saw because it was her motorcycle and it has been with her through thick and thin.

 

Sometimes, when in moral dilemmas, a tiny Golden Hind and Pirateman appear on her shoulder, she's not exactly sure what that means.

 

Turning the Hind's key, she rides the tar river to the cafe.

 

 

A few minutes later at the local starbucks, the sound of a woman screaming "PIRATEMAN LIED TO ME" interrupted their chains of thought.

[bury the year]

The little white man switched out with the red hand, and Ryan stepped out into the now-vacated crosswalk, along with the rest of humanity. He switched the iPod into temporary sleep mode so he wouldn’t get distracted by Ballade’s working chatter. Wouldn’t be good to get hit by a car because your Navi couldn’t be quiet.

 

He glanced up at the sky, which was currently laden with heavy grey clouds. Imbrium was never the nicest place to live on earth – it was like Seattle had pulled its roots up and plunked them down half the world away. Rain was always somewhere on the horizon, hence the name. Whatever. Just something to get used to.

 

No time for soliloquizing, though. The green and brown façade of the famous coffee shop loomed just a few storefronts ahead. Slipping into the double doors, he was awed by the number of people crammed in to get their floofy coffee drinks, himself included. Queuing in, he waited a few minutes until he was face-to-face with a young girl at the cashier. “May I help you?”

 

“Sure... I’ll have a tall blonde blend and an apple bran muffin, please.”

 

“Okay,” the barista smiled, albeit a bit frazzled. “We’re really busy as you can tell, so give it five minutes for us to get your coffee. Here’s your muffin now, though.”

 

He nodded and handed over his credit card when the barista gestured for it. The price rang up on the register, and he popped the muffin off the counter. Ryan waded into the crowded yet surprisingly large coffeehouse interior, hoping to find a seat.

 

Bingo. A cushy leather couch was taken at one end by a chatty young woman, but the other end was wide open. Ryan plopped down and set his muffin on top of the darkwood table in front of him to free his hands up. Digging into his pockets, he flipped his iPod out, booted it up and logged onto the free wi-fi in a practiced procedure.

 

Ballade’s face flickered onto the iPod’s screen once more, a faint expression of irritation detectable. “Finally made it?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Good.” In the background, Ryan could see the Starbucks trademark logo fill up the wallpaper, indicating Ballade had successfully accessed the network’s home. “Want me to start looking around?”

 

“Feel free,” Ryan responded, idly unwrapping his muffin and folding the paper into a flattened cone. “Don’t get too engrossed in your work, though.” It was somewhat of an in-joke between the two, one that was rather obvious to anyone who knew Ballade’s nature.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a rather sallow-looking young man at the counter, placing his order. Ryan averted eye contact – he didn’t seem like the type of person that he would want to associate with. Generally creepy and all that. However, a loud shout of frustration suddenly echoed through his eardrums from outside, making him nearly drop his muffin in surprise.

 

“PIRATEMAN LIED TO ME!”

 

“Oh boy...”

[Hydra of Ages]

Arthur's eyes moved quickly back and forth as a plethora of data unfurled itself beneath her eyes. Locations, quotes, people, testimony; all of it was valid evidence, and it connected in sometimes completely unknown ways. Logic was the art of making bridges between information, after all- everything had a reasonable explanation attached to it, a reason for being the way that it was- the world was, at its very core, predictable. One simply needed to have the intelligence to make due with the information was given.

 

One gave rise to two, the skid-marks stopped three yards from the curb, three became four, only companies in the top five circle of Virus Protection Software corporations were targeted-

 

"PIRATEMAN LIED TO ME!"

 

Pirates went to five, sea raiders off the coast of- No, wait, that didn't make sense. Arthur paused the scrolling data with a tap of her finger, grimacing a little bit as she looked for the source of the disturbance- a red-haired girl standing just inside the cafe. Young, approximately her own age, probably a student. Almost certainly a motorcycle rider, given her choice of garb and seeming state of oil stains, which ruled out several likely explanations for her mental derangement. Almost certainly nobody important. She took another sip of her coffee.

 

"Tsk. Navis lying to their owners, how rude of them. I for one, would never go directly against your wills, Art. You can count on that- Arcanum said with a wink. "You can trust me with anything! Through thick and thin, hard times and soft, no matter what the distance, we have an inseparable connection that transcends time and space!"

 

"Good, then. You can bring up the matrix again," Arthur muttered as he put down his coffee. "I was distracted by an odd tangent. From the top again, please."

 

"Hey hey hey. Why bother trying to solve that mystery when you've got another right infront of your nose? C'mon, talk to the girl, what's the worst that could happen? I'm sure she's got an interesting story!"

 

Arthur chuckled a little. "I highly doubt it. She's more than likely just some immature loon procrastinating on schoolwork. The matrix, please."

[Agro]

Dragoman's only real worry at the moment was that he'd be mistaken for a solo navi, something that tended to cause some sort of isolation with those around. Dragoman'd always wondered why people shuddered at the thought. Was it so uncommon for a navi to traverse the net by his or herself? It didn't seem that unreasonable to him, so obviously, it shouldn't seem that unreasonable to anyone else.

 

Still he had to remain vigilant if someone did gain such a notion, since in such a crowded and small server, the backlash could be worse than if it was in something like netcity. All he had to do was get in, post the notice, and get out. Yes, he'd told Alder that he'd post it in a few places, and yes, this was one of his primary functions, but he figured that if he posted it here he was bound to find SOMEONE useful, so there was no real use posting it somewhere else.

 

Dragoman looked out the window of the "monorail" car that served as the search engine, Google, materialized. It moved faster than just finding a link itself, especially after Alder had done a little repurposing on it to fit his own needs. Even better was that he didn't have to do any driving like humans did, it was all auto-piloted. Much better than those damn Yahoo! search engines that just gives you some sort of direction and tell you "go".

 

The car finally made it to the portal to the Starbucks server and dissipated around Dragoman, allowing him to easily slip into the server.

 

It was packed, as expected, and to Dragoman's delight. Someone would answer this in no time. Slowly making his way through the navis conversing and enjoying themselves, trying not to bump into too many of them as he passed, he finally reached the BBS stationed next to the netdesk.

 

"Alright, alright" Dragoman pulled up the keyboard and began typing.

 

Title: Looking for Programming Assistant

Description: Job Requirements: Looking for an experienced assistant to help programming. Pay can be discussed upon contact. Hours will be from 10-4 Mondays through Fridays. Subject to change and can be discussed upon contact. To contact for more information please send to electronic mail and chat address "[email protected]". Note that if contacting, you will be conducting business negotiations with the employer's navi.

 

"There. That should do it." Dragoman looked down proudly at the message before sending it. After the download was complete and he could view it on the BBS, he finally turned away, noticing the netcafe's desk. "Maybe I'll see if they have anything to offer."

[~Tico~]

"Hey Shawn, mind if I take off for a while?"

 

"Eh?" Shawn looked up from the book he was reading to find Mistil looking at him from his iPhone, a mildly annoyed expression on his face. "Wouldn't I normally be the one persuading you to get off my case for a time? Strange for you to initiate the conversation." Mistil rolled his eyes.

 

"Well, I'm not just some emotionless robot either. I do have some desire for a break every now and then." Mistil replied patiently. "So, how about it?"

 

Shawn put down his book, looking rather thoughtful. "Well, I suppose it's okay....So long as you make sure to come back in time. My boss may not fire me for being late, but he'll still be giving me one hell of a long lecture, which I'd prefer to avoid." Mistil smiled. "No problem. That sort of thing is my job now, so you didn't need to ask." With that, the Navi turned and began transmitting to the Starbucks server. Seconds later, he was in.

 

---

Mistil clomped along as he roamed the busy area. Crowds. He didn't mind them much, but the noisiness was just irritating at times. Ignoring that, he looked to see where the BBS was. After craning his neck for a few moments, he saw it next to the netdesk and headed over. It was a somewhat slow process, as the crowds were

thick and Navis blocked pretty much every square ahead, forcing him to push through them in order to get across the area.

 

Along the way, he kept an ear out for interesting gossip. He had never cared much for rumors and the like, but Shawn did and so Mistil would keep an ear out for any juicy tidbits for his Operator to savor. There wasn't anything much though; just some more talk about the outbreak of attacks, and a few whispers about a "gallant reaper" Navi. Mistil slid his visor across his eyes; he didn't want anyone to recognize him and then be bogged down with requests to battle and questions he wouldn't answer. He wished Shawn hadn't accepted so many NetBattles, as his elite performance had spawned much talk among hard-core battle fans and spread down the ranks. But after some time of keeping his head low, the hype died down and moved on to other Navis.

 

At last, he'd pushed through to the BBS, which was abuzz with messages. He looked through them, pausing here and there at somewhat more interesting news and announcements, until he came across a job request. Shawn didn't really lack for work, but Mistil felt a little curious, so he looked at it. Programming, huh? No way does Shawn have time for that. Mistil was about to close out of the request when he noticed the email given in it. "[email protected]"

 

Alder...Ward? That rings a bell. Oh! Mistil jerked up as he remembered. That's the bedridden man Shawn made friends with a while back! Looks like Dragoman's helping him look for an assistant. In that case, Dragoman should still be here. Mistil had met the dragon-like Navi on several occasions before and they had taken to each other somewhat positively. Mistil scanned the crowds again; Dragoman may have been distinctive thanks to his unique features, but in a crowd this big, it'd be hard to spot anyone.

 

Finally, he spotted the crimson-clad Navi some distance away, looking deep in thought. He moved over and approaching Dragoman, gave (in Mistil's impression) what could be considered a friendly smack on the back. "Fancy meeting you here, Dragoman. I trust your Operator is well?"

[Admiral_Stalfos19]

"The hell's wrong with her?" Leroy asked no-one in particular, as a young woman shouted something about a Navi by the name of PirateMan lying to her, before turning to WraithMan, "And who's this... PirateMan, anyway?"

 

"A Navi," WraithMan answered blankly, "Could be enemy, could be not,"

 

In the back of his mind, though, WraithMan was seriously considering meeting up with this new Navi. After all, it would be much better than being stuck in this comp space that Leroy's smart-phone provided. Against Leroy's orders, WraithMan immediately connected to the Starbucks server, and, thanks to the vast number of Navis already there, gained access within a fraction of a second. His next personal task was to scout for viruses while he was here, whilst avoiding unnecessary contact with the Navis.

 

"I'm going on ahead," WraithMan informed, "I sense something amidst,"

 

"What?! You weren't supposed to even...!" Leroy started, before letting out a sigh, "Fine, but remember to shout out if you need anything. And don't come crying to me if the other Navis see you,"

 

"That wasn't my intention," retorted WraithMan, before he finally moved on. He managed to avoid the vast majority of the Navis that were there, but as he travelled along, a light blue and gold one with horns sticking out of his helmet caught WraithMan's attention... if only for a brief moment. That particular Navi also seemed to be scouting for viruses. WraithMan traversed over to this strange Navi, but immediately melted into the shadows within a few foot away.

[bury the year]

“Oh, no!” A panicked exclamation came from the general area of the cashiers, and Ryan raised his head to look. However, when he saw just what was going on, he was shocked.

 

A stream of scalding hot liquid was bursting out of the coffee maker’s spout, arcing out in a high fountain. One of the baristas was leaning up against the wall out of the way, her burned hand clutched against her chest, while the other two were huddled at the opposite end.

 

“Crap...” Ryan popped up from his seat while the other people in the café started to panic. Some just made for the doors, others got in corners, while others whipped out their cell phones to get the fire department or police. He pulled the iPod out of his pocket and stuck the earbuds in his ears. “Ballade, you thinking what I am?”

 

---

 

Ballade nodded, standing in place. Many of the other Navis that were on the previously-crowded homepage had logged out, leaving just a few that were milling around. One with a dragon theme and another bearing a sword. Neither looked too concerned, so Ballade ignored them. “Viruses, and by the scale of that jet, probably a lot of them.”

 

“You think we can do anything about it?”

 

“If you can get access permissions to the Core Space, sure.” Viruses on the Internet itself could do little damage if they couldn’t interface with anything, confined to only the data they could reach (like emails). That was why Navis were trained to try to quarantine before going on the offensive. However, if they leaked into a Core Space – the control center of a machine – they could wreak havoc by messing with its operation protocols. Even one downed firewall could open a way in, which was quite possibly what had happened with the coffee machine.

 

“Alright then,” Ryan’s voice responded. Through the camera on the iPod, Ballade could see him running over and talking frenziedly to one of the baristas who had gotten out from behind the counter. She passed a small sheet of paper over to the operator, and within a few seconds, a string of digits popped up in front of the Navi.

 

ACCESSING CORE SPACE...

PLEASE ENTER SECURITY CODE.

 

R G 1 T G H 5 D L O

0 9 8 G Y N 5 3 W X

 

ACCESS GRANTED.

 

The floating translucent platform that Ballade was standing on shuddered and a portal of flickering green squares meshed together shot into view. The Navi grinned, pleased. “Orders to go?”

 

“You’re clear whenever.”

 

Dashing, Ballade rammed into the portal and broke through to a smaller area than before. Instead of the logo-covered background of the Starbucks homepage, this was a much more compact area, with black and green numbers à la The Matrix. However, that wasn’t what concerned him. Around 15 viruses, a mix of Mettaurs and Larks, were assaulting a large orange column situated in the center of the nondescript area. Inside the column floated a spiraling thread of energy that stretched from top to bottom.

 

He grimaced. That was the coffee maker’s Core. If the viruses were able to break that barrier and access the data within, they’d have full control over its machinery. If that were to happen, the thing would never get repaired: it’d be permanently fried.

 

“Hey, you!”

 

The viruses turned around to see Ballade leveling his buster at the first Mettaur as it raised its pickaxe, ready to attack.

 

He smirked. “Run. Now.”

 

[spoiler=Virus Database]

Mettaur – The “base” virus from which all others are believed to have evolved. These little guys are found pretty much everywhere, but they don’t do much damage compared to others at their level. (Null-type)

Shockwave – Crashing the tip of their pickaxe into the ground, this sends out a narrow shockwave towards the target. It can be blocked or simply dodged.

 

Lark – Don’t let their googly eyes fool you. These manta-esque viruses can float into the air to dodge attacks, and they’re pretty resilient. (Water-type)

Wide Wave – They spit large boomerang-shaped waves that rocket out away from them. Duck or jump, because it’s difficult to strafe them.

 

[Hydra of Ages]

Arthur sighed as another commotion started in the cafe area, turning around in her seat with annoyance.

 

'Seven leads to... I don't know what seven leads to', she thought with consternation, 'Because this cafe can't be quite for twenty minutes straight! What NOW? '

 

She didn't expect to see a steaming arc of dangerous water jutting from a coffee maker, but she recovered amiably well, seizing her blackberry and backing up against a wall where she'd be reasonably out of the way; she overturned a table in her way, sitting her rather small body against it as a form of shield.

 

"Arcanum! Set up a new matrix!"

 

The cloaked magician stirred from the sleep state on the Navi. "Another matrix? What for this time?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. Arthur sighed in annoyance, pulling the hat from her head.

 

"Because we're going to hack the access code to that coffee maker, that's why!" Selene hissed at her mobile device, causing the navi to take a virtual step back in surprise at the outburst. "Alright, alright! On it" Arcanum muttered a little, more shocked that her operator was taking action than anything else.

 

The gears of Selene's head were already turning; she unbuttoned her coat a little bit absently, feeling the heat of the room increase with the boiling water. Random acts of violence like this weren't the purview of run-of-the-mill hackers. This was something perhaps a bit more serious- related to the case she was after, maybe?

 

"Mirage..." she said with a slight smile. Arcanum looked up for a moment in confusion, but shrugged and went back to building the virtual logic construct.

 

Selene scrunched her brow in thought. Starbucks used a standard brand water boiler in all of their products. The computer chip used to control them was a brand she recognized, and had studied thoroughly; hacking their systems was a simple matter of logical deduction.

 

"RG1, followed by TGH. Either 5D or A3 depending on the size of the boiler; from the length of the arc, I estimate it's the earlier more likely than the later. Given the geographical location, the ending pair is LO," she muttered as Arcanum entered the information into a sorted file comparison system.

 

First line done. That was the easy part, of course- a standard set issued to more or less all systems of that type. The second, the generated version, was the difficult issue.

 

"Use my Master Keygen for nonSecure commercial use systems as a base. Replace the first line with what we have thusfar, and modify the seed to compensate. Turn off phantom vectors," she instructed, then closed her eyes. A list of numbers passed by her face, as well as letters. Those could be represented in a digital space quite well, but some things required a human mind.

 

"Then, upload to the net. We're going in directly."

 

 

---

 

 

Arcanum appeared in the Starbucks' homepage, and wasn't terribly surprised to see few navis milling around anymore. Still, nothing of any particular danger thusfar, which was fortunate. Arcanum had faith in her virus busting skill, but the simple fact of the matter was that she didn't like fighting very much. Not, unless, there was some real point to it- it was just wasted effort to try and do heroic things just for the sake of doing heroic things.

 

Then again, she didn't question Selene very much when she got into something like this- so interested that her guises melted away, replaced with honest enthusiasm. Arcanum didn't get to see Selene do anything honest very well.

 

A string of digits popped up before Selene on a strangely coloured screen; in the left corner, a yellow circle spun incessantly, as some of the digits on the lower side changed at a rapid pace. The matrix worked at a fast pace, helped as it was by Selene's seed refinement in real time- the girl had a gift with numbers, almost as much as she did logic. It occurred to Arcanum that it was a very lucky thing she chose to apply her talents to law, rather than something somewhat less savoy- heaven knows, Arcanum worried enough about her moral health as it was.

 

The circle in the corner at last turned green just as she was starting to worry they'd attract the attention of an Internet Moderator through their use of a gen, and the gate opened. Arcanum found herself placed instantly into the Core Space of the coffee maker, which was of course still set to the industry standard wallpaper. Zeros and ones were so tacky.

 

She was mildly surprised to see someone had gotten there before her, though.

[Nexev]

Oh crap, oh crap. There was little doubt. This was the hardest mission Elizabeth ever faced.

 

Then the viruses attacked and THANK GOD it was so much easier now. Elizabeth ran towards the bathroom and once inside it, took out her coat and eyepatch from her book bag.

 

"This is clearly a quest for..." After placing the eyepatch on her head the longest, most kawaii magic girl transformation DID NOT go on, atleast it didn't happene anywhere that was not inside her head. "CAPTAIN LIZZIE!". Seldom has a man seen a door kicked for as dramatic a entrance as Lizzie's stunning coffeeshop debut. Lizzie marched directly towards the barista. "Excuse me madam but I will like to destroy the evil possesing your electronic, do you mind allowing me entry?" Two autographs, a phone number, and a passcode later Pirateman was inside the foul coffe maker. "Pirateman, go stop this criminal while I tend to the wounded." Lizzie texted to Pirateman while fishing out a first aid kit from her bag. Be prepared for anything was always the Drake motto.

 

"Yohohoho, I'm taking out this coffee trash. It's a starbucks coffee party YOHOHOHOH." Pirateman chortled at his own joke as he surveyed the area. Eventually pirateman found his mark, a Lark that was a bit further from the group then the others. He figured he should wait for backup but dames are in distress right now! What pirate would he be if he waited? Pirate man jumped in the air, pointing his harpoon right at the Lark's head. With a dull whistle the harpoon fired from his leg giving the Lark a bump that became a splitting headache when Pirateman and his anchor arm followed thanks to the rope connecting him to his harpoon.

 

The game was on.

[Agro]

Dragoman had just payed for his drink and was about to pick it up when a hand slammed down on his shoulder. At that point his instincts kicked in and heat was ejected from his left palm, causing the 'hot' drink to instantly boil and explode up in the air. Realizing the owner of the voice and turning around, his 'coffee'-drenched face irking mildly at the result of the introduction, he retorted, "Never, ever, do that again."

 

After using his own abilities to evaporate the remnance of the drink and washing down the rest of it, he finally answered Mistil's question.

 

"He's fine, working too much for his own good, as usual. By the way, isn't it Shawn's job to watch out for Alder in that regard? I can't do everything by myself." He sighed, "Do you know if Shawn knows anyone who's looking for a job? The boss told him that if he really needed to work, he had to get one."

 

It was at that point, a commotion could be heard from most of the Navis on the server, and soon many began to log out. Curious, Dragoman turned to the attendant. "What's going on?"

 

The female Navi smiled, apparently not worried in the slightest, "There are some errors occurring with the coffee-maker's computer space, nothing to fret here, I do not believe."

 

"Is the terminal connected to this server?"

 

"Yes it is." The Navi smiled again. "But do not worry, there is already an apparently capable Navi and Operator attending to the problem."

 

"Sounds like viruses, do you mind if we assist?" Dragoman smirked."I haven't had fun in ages."

 

"I'm sorry, but the computer password is held in close quarters and we don't want too many people going to check on the terminal for security reasons."

 

Dragoman gave the navi a murky glare. "You sure?"

 

"Yes, sir. It is right in the rules of the sho- oh..." Her speech faded as she looked on past Dragoman.

 

Drago himself looked behind to see a Navi step through a portal opened in the middle of the server. Curious he stepped over to it and looked it over. Grinning, he looked back at Mistil. "Want to have some fun?"

[bury the year]

A second portal?

 

That wasn’t expected. Ballade’s buster dropped as the familiar faint whoosh came through his ears, signifying the opening of another portal. As a result, he had to clumsily jump to the side at the last second to avoid the Mettaur’s shockwave. ‘There goes my flow,’ he thought, pissed. Although it had been just the previous night that Ryan had sent him out to do some busting, that felt like ages ago. The here and now was the important thing.

 

He looked back and sized up the new arrival. Female, but not much else in terms of detail. The Navi’s color scheme was a stark white, which struck Ballade as odd. A Navi was the canvas on which the operator painted, and so many customs were dressed up to look as individual and unique as possible. This certainly was unique, but in the opposite direction.

 

“Hey,” he called out while aiming at a fast-approaching Lark. “If you’re here, can you cover me?” He fired a few rounds into the virus’ skull, creating a few cracks on its surface. As the Lark’s eyes spun even faster, dazed by the assault, the cracks spread and it broke into shards of fast-dissipating data. However, that only served to draw attention to him, and the shockwave of another Mettaur caught him off balance and sent him flying backwards.

 

Ballade rolled backwards, uttering a halfhearted “crap.” He raised his arm to defend himself as another Lark swept in, ready to attack. However, a harpoon flew out of nowhere and slammed into it, followed by an anchor that shattered the beast. He looked behind him, and rocketing out of the portal he had created came PirateMan. Although Ballade wouldn’t normally be happy to see such an infamous figure, right now he could use the extra help.

 

“Well. It’s a party now, I guess.”

 

((Yah, yah. Short post for me, but we should keep it moving.))

[Hydra of Ages]

Arcanum wanted to quip, she really did- but, unfortunately, the point of being in Fool form was to be anonymous. Selene didn't like to see anything traceable back to her, and she'd passed off Fool.Exe being the personal navi of too many guises to allow it to be connected to Arcanum. That, unfortunately, meant that she had to minimize the amount of similarities between both of her forms, such that it could be believable they would be separate entities.

 

That meant Fool had to be quiet, reliable, and quick. She hated being even one of those three.

 

She darted behind the nearby navi with the large horns, and turned to gun down a couple of Larks before glancing at her companion; aside from what might be some sort of samurai-navi, there was also what was clearly a pirate. The lying Pirateman.Exe, no doubt. She felt almost physically sick at being unable to question him about that... but, acting came first, after all. There was no point to having a disguise unless it was a disguise.

 

A mettaur approached from her side, releasing a shockwave to capture one or both of her allies in the place; she darted behind it quickly, deleting it with a well-placed slice with her blade. It was fortunate that none of the viruses they had combated yet were particularly difficult- Arcanum hadn't tested her skill in a while. In truth, she functioned more as a high-tech calculator than the detective-class anti-virus software she was supposed to be, but it wasn't all bad. Forming matrixes was dull, but at least there wasn't a chance at being deleted by it.

 

She winced as a Lark glided past her side, clipping a piece of armour from her shoulder, silently berated herself for getting distracted, then pulled her blaster and began firing at the winged thing.

[bury the year]

((Since the OOC thread is long-dead and I don't enjoy repeatedly pulling people's toes in order to get them to post, this thing is locked until if/when you guys bother me to reopen it. Sorry, but it's obvious that everyone just isn't interesting in continuing; I can't really blame them, though, considering that this was planned to be a pretty linear RP. Whatever. Rinne, out. Any problems, just send me a PM.))