DiscoDude: ---BEGIN SESSION---
DiscoDude: Session logging commenced
GM: You've come a long way, Dovelia. From begrudging wife of a conman, to enslaved servant of a friend of the Ghrunabb he tried to con. You were promised freedom by another Ghrunabb in exchange for killing your keeper, and you did. Deciding that of the paths presented to you, the life of an assassin seemed most palatable, you entered training with the organization Cross-Hare. Now, after months of training, you're finally leaving the section of the facility trainees are restricted to for your final test and first mission.
GM: You only saw the lobby - the public face of the organization - once, all those months ago, and its sharp design and central water feature haven't changed a bit. Before you can reach the elevator that will take you to your first briefing, however, you spot a familiar... 'face,' if that's the right word for it.
GM: It's Arha Za'navu, the Ghrunabb who set you up with the bid for your freedom back then. The oversized grub bobs up and down in her hoverchair marked with the logo of her branch of companies, her feline Chater attendant waving you over.
GM: (Is that all good, <@!Dovelia>? You can say something now.)
Dovelia: narrows her eyes. She can't imagine calling Arha a friend, though she understands the Ghrunabb well enough to trust her. They always make good on their promises, provided you can pay their price.
Dovelia: She approaches Arha and nods respectfully. "Mrs. Za'navu." Ghrunabb don't go by "Mr." or "Mrs.", but habits are hard to break.
GM: "Ha!" Even the Ghrunabb ladies have deep and gravelly voices. "You forget we do not have your silly concept of 'marriage.' I see you have yet to kick that irreverent spirit. I was just wondering how my favorite little pawn is doing, though I suppose you've been queened at this point."
Dovelia: frowns at the use of "queened" but chooses to focus on the chess analogy. "Almost there, at least. Certainly better off than I was." She pauses, as if straining to put together the words. "...thank you."
GM: "No, thank you... Brise, was it now? Of course, I am here on business as well. One last teensy favor, though it's more from the organization than from you, really. It's hardly out of the way."
Dovelia: sighs. "What do you need?"
GM: "You'll see when you head into briefing. Again, it should be no problem; it's well within parameters of what you were already going to do. I was only in to make the arrangements, deposit some payments, you know how it is. This is just me saying 'hi' on the way out."
Dovelia: gives a tired smile. "All right, I'll see what I can do."
GM: "It's been peachy~" Arha tries to make her voice lilt on that parting line, anyway. It comes off more as a gurgling tumble down the stairs. Her attendant is at the elevator already, having pressed the button for you. He beams as though he finally has something to do - he clearly isn't used to the lady doing this much of her own talking.
Dovelia: nods at the attendant. "Thank you." She steps into the elevator.
GM: A quick punch of the elevator button code you had drilled into your memory, and the shell of the cabin goes up past the visible ceiling while the actual platform you're standing on goes down below the floor. The doors at your destination open to reveal a conference room with a long table with only two chairs. At the far end sits a humanoid robot resembling a rabbit of some kind. Their LED face-screen lights up.
GM: "Good morning, Agent Empress. I am the TSU-Kino unit, Usagi model, designation S.E.L.E.N.E. - your handler. I choose to use female pronouns, if you wanted my input on that. Won't you come in and take a seat?"
Dovelia: sits down. She's reminded a little too much of the robot intermediaries of the Ghrunabb to ever be entirely comfortable with this arrangement, but she listens regardless.
GM: "Observation: You do not seem to be one for many words. No matter. As you know, your training will conclude with a live test. A low-risk mission selected to test your capabilities in the field. Let us commence the briefing on that mission."
GM: A screen lowers behind her, and she taps a feed switch on the side of her head, changing her face into a rapid-fire stream of data as the screen behind her lights up.
GM: "Your first live target is a Ghrunabb going by the name Galvo Morisham." The screen toggles through several files and photos, showing a plump grub seeming to have a good time in various public settings. "His real name is Puyo Te'trix, a self-made entrepreneur. He's a rather public figure, and a self-proclaimed lady-killer. Both are unusual traits for the average Ghrunabb."
Dovelia: stares at the images, wondering if she's being pranked. Whoever this Galvo is, he's not like any Ghrunabb she's encountered.
GM: The screen shifts to some... less care-free imagery: a storefront on fire; candid footage of a drug stash; a news article about a city's budget being emptied into a private a account shortly before a beloved Ghrunabb politician's supposed death; women bound, gagged, blindfolded, all lined up in a row inside a storage container.
GM: "His uncharacteristically jolly exterior hides a monster, however. Puyo's MO is to appear with loose pockets and a pleasant attitude, ingratiate himself to the community, all while covering for one or more rackets behind the scenes. Once he makes bank on his newest operation, he fakes his death before anyone can catch on and moves to a new locale under a new identity."
Dovelia: "I imagine his fellow Ghrunabb don't like that," Dovelia mutters out loud.
GM: "Indeed. I notice a certain someone spoke to you on the way in, likely inspiring that theory. I'll have to send notice to our client about how we can only do so much to keep them anonymous without them giving themselves away in public. But yes. A handful of assets belonging to other Ghrunabb were caught in the cross-fire of one of Puyo's recent projects. He no longer has the protection afforded by his people, in other words. That's where you come in."
GM: The screen toggles through floorplans and interior photos of a nightclub. An exterior shot reveals the name in neon; Club DiVantre.
GM: "Galvo Morisham is the name he goes by currently while he operates his latest planet of marks, Vrandgille. Through the information given to us, it seems Puyo is about to be in the endgame of a trafficking ring - supposedly, one of his favorite schemes. He's working out of Club DiVantre, looking for one or two more 'batches' of 'product' before he pulls the plug on Galvo. Your mission is to make sure Puyo dies with him this time."
Dovelia: cracks her knuckles. "Gladly."
GM: (I need to get started on cooking soon, so maybe this session will just be the intro?)
GM: (Either way, is this a good place to end the scene, <@!Dovelia>?)
Dovelia: (sure)
GM: (Then let us...)
GM: !end
