Megabuilding H11

Dreamless Realm

Restless writer
Benefactor
Life on the Edge GM
Pronouns
They/them
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Megabuilding H11 WN185

Our little burrow, only it's not so little and it looks nothing like a cozy tunnel. Not very different from the rest of NC's Megabuildings, located in the NID, Watson.

We're in luxury apartment 665, on one of the top floors. "Luxury" as in marketing strategy to get gonks to live in it. Because it's pretty normal otherwise. We do share a laundry room with only the people in our floor though, so that's actually quite amazing. (Beware, I've lost two jackets to being a minute late to collect my stuff)

There's a data term just outside.

You can find various service points in the lower floors: stores, markets stalls, a gym, even a shooting range. To a certain extent, Megablocks are truly self-sufficient, self-contained ecosystems – many of the long-term residents (especially netrunners) haven't stepped outside in years.

There are a few accessible elevators. One in the lobby which leads to up to floor 016, and one in floor 08 which leads the parking are the main ones.

Floor -03 to -01: Garages
Despite having a negative number, these parking levels are in a separate building which begins at street-level, up to the third floor. The first level has an elevator to 8th floor of the megabuilding, and an exit to lower street-level. The two further levels can be found above, as well as another exit to the upper street-level highway.

We can store our vehicles here.

Floor 01: Entrance
This floor contains a few food vendors, the main entrance, and an elevator to the rest of the building.

Floor 07: Services
This floor contains food stalls and a variety of vendors and services, including a weapons store, a fighting ring and a gym.

*Notes

Our direct neighbors, 666 and 664 are vastly different. I'm pretty sure 666 has a weird ass satanic cult going on. 664 changes tenants more often than I change my hair. Last time I checked there were some Tyger Claws torturing debtors or dine and dashers. But I think they got kicked out the other day.

This is our floor plan:
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By the time he made it into floor -02, Bunny had lost count of the amount of people he'd narrowly avoided hitting with his bike. A beautiful ARCH Nazare in pink and blue that was a bit scratched up from their chase, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. He'd get her paint touched up later this month though, or something. Once she was safe and sound, Bunny picked up his bright yellow banana bag with big eyes and headed for the elevator.

Ugh!, there were no mirrors nearby, but he must look seven kinds of terrible. It was a given all his roommates knew him already, but he still preferred to look good. But they'd arrive any time!, yeah but he could tell there was 'saka corpse blood on his face!. What he hadn't caught with his sleeve the first time he had wiped it off. So that was a debate both won and lost, and he headed for one of the shitty, quite literally, bathrooms on the first floor. Every surface looked disgusting, the floor was sticky. The soles of his boots deserved better than walking in here, having to leap over either asleep, drunk, high or all of them, gonks.

Sheeeeeeesh

Bunny activated the mirror, watching as it turned in itself and became properly reflective. Somehow it was also disgusting. The mirror, not his reflection. Bunny was pleased to confirm he was still gorgeous, bood and all. He also quietly thanked whatever indie business he had picked up his eyeliner from, that it was blood and waterproof. A blonde man came in, looking awful, while Bunny washed his face. Click-c-clack. Those shoes had a broken heel or something. They made a funny noise. Bunny fixed himself up, washed off the blood, put his hair back in order. He didn't really pay more attention than necessary to the people who came and went. His legs were mostly fine. There were only two actually bad scratches, where the barbed wire had caught him during his improvised exit. He knew he should have worn trousers instead of shors, but they were in need of fixing. Hm, he needed to get to sewing those back together.

"You're 6 minutes late to-" Warned his agent, why let him know when he was already late?.

"Shut it, I know, I'm on my way" Didn't even let A.I. finish.

"You have six missed calls from a-" From an annoying asshole. Or a bunch of them.

"I literally don't care, we know who's been calling, go auto and tell them to go fuck themselves some more. It's all they're good at." The agent confirmed it understood with a noise, and stopped being a headache provider as Bunny left the bathroom to go wait for everyone at the entrance of the megablock. Surprisingly enough, any apologies died in his mouth when there was no one he was expecting there yet. He'd been expecting Mr. Superstar or Kirch to be early. Unless they were at the door of the apartment. Meh, he'd wait here and message them.

Bunny leaned on the side rail of the stairs that went up to the building. Looking good, his hair now sporting a blue tint at the tips. Other than that, black clothes and a bit of a deeper scratch on his leg that was still red. His stomach growled, so he dug into his funny looking bag and found an okay looking red apple to eat while he waited.
 
It was starting to get a little tiresome trying to get passers-by to keep their eyes to themselves after about five minutes. Kirchhoff, running a frustrated hand through her short, freshly-washed hair, sent off a message to Bunny as she leaned up against the wall adjacent to door 665.

At this point, the couriers just left her lab kit in a pile next to the door, which was certainly less than ideal, but she was operating off the assumption that she would have access to the apartment by the time the couriers arrived. Maybe she was a little earlier just as a precaution, but whatever. It's not like she brought anything else besides herself and her clothes. All she could do now was wait and see if, at the least, one of the other roommates would show up soon.
 
Somewhere within the swirls and eddies formed by the layering of formed soy protein paste over ground crickets over just enough sawdust as filler laid the answer to life's greatest mystery. Raul was sure of it. He barely managed to close his mouth before the drool escaped, and a loud sniffle turned into a chest busting coughing fit.

Disgusted, he tossed the half eaten scopburger into a nearby waste receptacle and stood up from the gimmicky plastic table. He swayed for a second as his tired brain compensated for the sludge draining out his sandevistan implant. He'd been overdoing it lately, and it was long overdue. Didn't make it suck any less however to blame his dumb-ass though.

"'Mano, estas hecho mierda," chirped his agent as it pushed Raul's stats to his hud. Stress levels over threshold, what a surprise. "Dime algo nuevo. Courier's confirm pick up?" Raul asked.

"Will be there an hour after you, as planned, ese. Don't insult me."

"One day I'll actually book a therapy appointment and factory reset you. Chat window up, eye track," he retorted as he dismissed his health stats and his agent brought up a virtuality overlay on his Kiroshis, showing him his chat interface. He sent a quick few messages to the group chat and got on his way.

He arrived about ten minutes later and spotted Bunny finishing what appeared to be an apple. Raul dragged his ragged, bloodshot eyed self over. "For the love of god, tell me you got some citrus in there," he asked chin pointing at the garish pack Bunny carried.
 
Kirchhoff was in the middle of playing a simple basketball mini game on her Kiroshi UI when she promptly received the notification for the door code to the apartment. With a sigh, she kicked off the wall and gathered her belongings, punching in the code on the door panel and letting herself in. She hastily tossed the bag containing her personal belongings by her future bedroom door, and went back out to move her lab tech inside. She didn't care if she kept them waiting, she wasn't about to leave her precious cargo unattended.

Eventually, she managed to move everything inside, though it was rather cluttered, and it sat rather awkwardly along the doorway to the bedroom. Whatever, she'll clean it up after she made contact with the others. She found herself out of the apartment and made her way to the elevator to the main entrance.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the main entrance to the megabuilding, and after a cursory scan of the environment, Kirchhoff spotted the stairway at which Bunny and Raul had congregated. With a brisk pace, she walked over to them, giving the two of them a once-over as she approached.

"Did I miss a party or something? The both of you look a little worse for wear," she said, leaning back on the opposite handrail to the staircase. "Could have invited me." It was a joke, of course; it didn't take much inference to realize one was suffering some technical malady -- neurovirus, maybe? -- and one was suffering from a tripped alarm from a botched job, judging by the scratches to the legs.
 
Busy answering to their new group chat, as well as some other people, Bunny didn't see Raul coming until he spoke. He blinked away the chat view ready to greet him only to hesitate for a moment. Because damn Raul looked like shit.

"Hey superstar, not so super today, are we?. You can dig in, I must have grabbed... An orange or something. But I was in a hurry." He said, offering to pass the bag to the other man while Kirchhoff joined them from inside the building. Nice nice, three out of four if Taro didn't crash into someone on his way here.

"Hey!" He lifted his hand in greeting with a brief grin.

"You can come shopping with me for 'ganic stuff anytime. It's usually a cakewalk. Until it isn't, like today. But I'm gonna have to lay low for a bit..." That was annoying, and his expression soured at the prospect.

"It's a good exercise in uh, being sneaky. I have a feeling it will be you and me doing most of that, Hm" His easy-going attitude returned. Click c-clack. Bunny furrowed his brow and looked around for the source of the familiar noise. But he didn't spot it right away, and maybe it was someone else who was leaving. So he let it be.

"Anyway, I got a phonecall at a bad time. The fuck happened to you?" He asked Raul directly, since Kirch looked quite well. She was fine.
 
Raul accepted the proffered bag hungrily. He didn't even pause to respond to the superstar comment. He just riffled through until he located an anemic looking clementine, and popped the entire thing in his mouth. Rind and all. He immediately felt an electric jolt as the citric acid hit his system and was shunted through his implants to help neutralize the toxins expelled by his sandevistan overuse.

"Told ya on the chat," Raul mumbled in response to them both as he forced down the citrusy lump in his throat. "Sandevistan in flush mode. Been using it way too much without proper care lately. Need some upgrades for my body to keep up with the oversized time-slower in my head." He pulled another clementine from the bag and passed it back to Bunny before chomping down. "Wherehfhg zeh neenja?"
 
"Uh... breaking traffic laws. Wow... peel your fucking oranges, choom. I'm making up a new law right now, it's forbidden to eat them with the SKIN still on" Said Bunny, not hiding his disgust in the slightest as Raul chewed.

"What kind of upgrades do you need, hm?" He added, checking the other man had, definitely, talked about his faulty sandevistan.
 
Kirchhoff nodded quietly, somehow not visibly disgusted by the man eating clementines whole, though the thought of it made her teeth hurt. After watching a little too closely, she cleared her throat and looked back to Bunny.

"Yeah, sure, I can tag along on those shopping trips. Good way to refine my stealth skills." Her eyes shot around to look for the source of the strange clacking noise for a moment before returning her gaze back to the others. "Eh. Some of the noises I hear 'round here make me real jumpy sometimes. Anyway, you need your wares tweaked? If your usage is too high, usually it's because your other wares are being throttled. Some corps do that shit to make you drop more eddies on their hardware."
 
Raul dried swallowed the second lump of fruit before replying, polite like. He missed the strange clacking noise entirely, due to his currently addled state. "To keep up with the shit I put my brain through?" he said to Bunny, pausing to shake his head as he mentally calculated. "Ideally a T3 synth kidney set to upgrade from my current T1, but a T2 and a Cataresist might do the trick. Howeeever," he said the last in a sing-song voice, turning towards Kirchhoff.

He smoothed his eyebrows over with a palm, and waggled them at Sofie. "Hey Mamacita, I remember you rolling your eyes at me when I asked if I'd have a chance after getting my degree which...wasn't a no, precisely eh? Happy to pick that up whenever now that I do," he said in a mockery of flirting in two parts; One, that there was a well played edge of harmless humor. A sort of "Lol JK, but what if" energy. The second part of course, that Raul currently looked like shit. "But, talking Biz for a moment," he smoothly continued, tone returning to normal. "Yes please. I know for a fact any pirate firmware you patch up will blow up this corpo shit out of the water, and I actually trust you to splice it in without triggering the call home ICE. Preem tier paywall high grade shit, my 'Vistan. I can barter."
 
Kirchhoff scoffed in disgust, and found herself rolling her eyes, just like she was years ago. She folded her arms and looked off to the side. "Faen i helvete, du kåt gutt," she muttered to herself before looking back to Raul, a bristly look in her eyes, though it was somewhat played up.

"As much as I just love the offer and your persistence, my interest is in keeping things professional for right now. Besides, you have about as much charm as a bag of Kibble," she spoke curtly. She still wasn't saying no, was she? Whatever. "Anyway, we can discuss cracking your firmware later, when I get my shit set up. Still need to figure out where everything is going." She made an effort to direct the subject somewhere else, especially as she was still trying to process being called 'mamacita'.
 
The exchange between the soon to be roommates was pretty damn funny, if a little sad on some parts. Bunny snickered, partially covering his mouth as he did. It would've all been better if he didn't need their ripperdoc in top shape, or at least better than he looked now. Gobbling up oranges with the skin still on. Maybe he was getting hung on it though, there was a chance he'd done something worse. At some point. A low one.

Kirch's face was fucking priceless though. And her response was better. He'd have to talk to Taro about betting on how long they might take to share a bed or something. And not for sleeping. Could make for an interesting pastime.

"There's a workshop and a bedroom, figure it out!" He said in response to Kirch, with a big shrug, before bringing up the message interface again. He was not going to think about how goddamn expensive synth kidneys were. Nope.
 
"Tachi! Oi, you layabout goodfornothing, you get your ass outta my loft!"

Taro had started to stir at the sound of footsteps on the ladder, but his sleep-fueled stupor was cut jarringly short by the dulcet tones of Ms. Hina's yelling, and the business end of a broom being shoved unceremoniously into his face. He spluttered, batting the synthetic fibers away with a groan and jerking upright - a mistake, as he immediately knocked his head against the low ceiling of the tiny crawlspace that had been his home for the past month with a metallic thunk.

"Fuck!" he cursed, rubbing at his head. "Whattafak?" he grumbled out eloquently once he'd halfway regained his bearings.

"It is twenty minutes since you said you would get your ass off of my property! I have things that need storing in your space!" Ms. Hina glowered at him from the top of the small ladder that led into the loft space. "Your rent ran out already, unless you're paying me another day, you get moving!"

Ah, fuck.

Taro brought up his agent's interface. The three alarms he'd set had gone off, and he'd apparently managed to disable all three of them without consciously surfacing from his slumber. Somehow, he could be woken by the slightest footstep coming near him, but he'd trained himself to completely tune out the screaming klaxons that were actually designed to get him out of bed. Now he was running late.

"Crap. Yeah, I'm gone, gimme five to grab my shit and I'll be outta your hair," he muttered, wiping his good eye and fumbling for his patch. The sound of Ms. Hina's grumbling receded as she clambered back down the ladder to leave him to get ready, and he took the opportunity to pull up his new team's groupchat and plug in a hasty, typo-riddled message to warn them of his lateness.

Five minutes later, and he dropped down from the loftspace with his katana strapped to his back, his iron at his side, and the duffel bag holding all the rest of his worldly possessions slung over his shoulder. The smell of frying noodles and meat-adjacent products filled the air with its familiar pleasant aroma as he jogged over to where Hina was back working in the restaurant's kitchen area.

"Ohayō!" he called to her with a grin. "I'm going now, Auntie. You might never see me again if I die too fast!"

"Bah, if you die so fast, what's the point in you?" She replied scathingly. "All talk. You better go make money and come back and spend it in my shop, pay me back for putting you up so long. And if I need someone beat to shit, I expect a discount!"

Taro shot her a wink. "You got it. You get friends and family rates, for sure. Got anyone in mind?"

Hina scoffed. "Sometimes idiots decide they don't need to pay, need reminding Ms. Hina wasn't always a kind and simple noodle-seller. I'll add you to the list of favours to call in if someone tries my patience. Now off with you, I'm busy. Don't die! You would make me look bad for vouching for you to your bunny-ear twink friend."

"You got it Auntie," Taro laughed. "You'll see me soon, I don't doubt. Can't keep me away from your noodles for too long."

"Good, I'd better. Now shoo!" Hina waved him away dismissively, turning back to her cooking without another word.

With one final wave, Taro turned and swept out of the restaurant, leaving its familiar clamour behind and stepping out into the street. His Kusanagi rolled up to meet him at the sidewalk, and he deftly slung himself into the seat. Pulling up the route to their new apartment, he gripped the bars and gave the throttle an anticipatory rev.

He had some time to make up.

________

The streets of Night City rolled past in a blur. The rush of the wind in his hair, the press of the goggle-straps over his eyes- wherever else he might end up, this was a home away from home. Taro had wrested control away from the auto-pilot the minute he rolled out of the lot. The machine might have been able to calculate optimum routes and adjust for traffic in real-time, but it didn't know that if you ramped off of the highway halfway through Little China and stuck the landing two storeys down, you'd save yourself a solid five minutes of winding turns and switchbacks.

Or if it did, it chose not to act on it. That, if anything, was worse.

He left a trail of blaring horns and swearing pedestrians in his wake, but what good street racer didn't? Sure, this wasn't a race, but he was happy to count it as his own personal time trial. It was good practice for future getaways - he'd inevitably have to learn all the little tricks and manoeuvres to lose people on the roads around his new neighbourhood anyway.

The trio outside the megabuilding would hear the roar of the kusanagi's engine well before they saw Tachi swerve into view in a blur of black and neon. With what was hard to tell whether it was reckless abandon or surgical precision, he slowed his approach at the last possible moment to roll to a smooth halt at the curbside, pulling his goggles up and turning to face where they were gathered by the stairs with a grin.

"Sorry I'm late, chooms! Hope I didn't miss the meet 'n greet!" he called over.
 
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Raul's countenance suddenly changed upon the roaring sound of the approaching Japanese motorcycle. It morphed from the pathetic visage shared by the hungover everywhere to the cool and composed look of a man ready to kill in an flash. He could pick out the sound of a Kusanagi out of a traffic jam in an instant. It was the ever popular Arasaka hit-man ride after all. He absentmindedly rubbed his left index finger over his thumb, and watched the world slow down to a crawl as he kicked his sandevistan back on from the middle of it's maintenance cycle.

He had a decent amount of time to come to his senses as he saw Tachi's motorcycle approach in stop-motion. In that time, he envisioned the whole thing: He'd smoothly flick his wrist outwards, decapitating Bunny and pulling his iron out to zero Kirchhoff in the next instant. Then he'd rush the hitman and go balls to the wall and may the best man survive.

He'd been set up. He'd grown complacent and missed them change tactics on him. Except...they would have had to plant Kirchhoff a decade ago, before he owed them at all. Frame-jobs happened yeah, but who'd lay a sophisticated frame on a lame-ass ex-Valentino fresh off Heywood trying to get into Corpo Plaza?

No one, that's who.

Raul grimaced as the world lurched back into normal motion. He smoothly turned the grimacing into a sort of smile as Tachi stopped at the curb before them. Raul disguised the re-locking of his monowire by throwing his hands up in a blasé sideways peace sign at Tachi. "Preem ride choom," he called out nonchalantly. He screamed inside, but he knew there was no way the others would have noticed anything amiss like say, their paranoid Ripperdoc about to go Cyberpsycho on them two seconds ago.

"Haven't missed a thing, come on up," he continued, before the color drained from his face. He probably shouldn't have fired his sandevistan for another 6 hours or so. With some effort not to sway too much, Raul turned towards Bunny.

"Say, Bagman Bunny Commander Sir," he said as he fought a wave of nausea. "I got a feeling you want to do the whole 'here's how this massively mass-produced mega-building environment is different from those other massively mass-produced mega-building environments you've been in' and do a whole tour but..." his chest visibly rose as he suppressed a heave. "I need a toilet and a 2 hour nap next to it before any of that. Can we chill home first for a bit before we get to showing off our action side for each other?" Acid rose in his throat, all benefit of the oranges burned away from his synapses and now threatening to violently exit his stomach.
 
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The casual, lightly bustling atmosphere of the Watson street was suddenly disturbed by the distant roars of the Kusanagi bike and the angered shouting of pedestrians. If it weren't such a common occurrence in this district with the abundance of street racers, Kirchhoff would likely have had more of a reaction than a cursory glance towards the sound.

If anything, more of her attention was grabbed by the brief moment of sudden illness in the fellow Ripperdoc. It was a curious sight; she wasn't fully sure where it came from. She didn't bring notice to it, though. Probably not best to give a paranoiac more reason for their nerve.

Eventually, the noises of the motorcycle neared and it became clear to whom the source of the sound belonged to. Kirchhoff watched with a passive amusement as the carefully reckless driver pulled up his goggles and smiled to the group. She nodded in acknowledgement.

"Nah, we were just about to go around the group and play Two Truths, One Lie," she joked, raising a casual hand in greeting. "I suppose these two need to lick their respective wounds for a moment," she said, pointing her head to Bunny and Raul, "so I'm good if we just go up and I can set my interface up."
 
Tachi was greeted with a wink and a smirk, as well as a comment about him being fashionably late and a look over. It wasn't that he was even remotely concerned about this gonk having hurt himself in traffic, no. It was more among the lines of checking him out, again. Totally. He was hot enough for it. Dying in traffic was lame, though. Just like scrambling into an office building through the window. He was reminded by his very unwelcome thoughts.

"Do I look like your fuckin' tour guide?, C'mon superstar. You're looking as great as a bag of shit. Said with care from my rotten heart." He answered Raul. A megablock was a megablock, and the others could explore on their own. Maybe he'd actually show them around later if they asked nicely. With a move of his head, he pointed toward the entrance and the closest elevator.

"Let's actually play that while we're headin' up. And worry not for my wounds, I'm fine. I can start the game too." He continued, leading the way up.

"One, I'm an orphan. Two, I give amazing head... "He winked at the other three. " And three, I get my nails done at the cheapest place I can find." Three sentences, chosen as carefully as he could manage with the little time he'd had. As they walked he looked around for the source of that clickity clackity noise from earlier. But he could no longer hear it.

The Megabuilding was, in fact, as conventional and boring as they came. Full of discarded trash, discarded lost people, and not so lost neighbors. There were shops, some distant shouting and fighting. From the elevator they see some idiots trying their luck at an average parkour through the terraces, stairs and windows on the inner patio walls. In the monitors inside the elevator it was endless capitalistic shit. Some ads, way too many explicit and vulgar displays and useless products. Surprisingly enough, the music was okay. Pop-rocky melodies and strident lyrics.
 
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"Thank fucking God," Raul said as they set off. He shambled along, feeling sheepish but unable to keep from scanning his field of vision every six seconds. "I'm an orphan too for one, on paper," Raul said as he dodged a couple of urchins running off with small bit cred chips chased by gangoons. They took a running leap past a banister and vanished into wherever street rats lived. Yup, it was a megabuilding like any other. "Pretty sure the lady I know as my cousin is actually my mom, but that's the cultura. Probably crossed paths with my dad at some point," he elaborated.

"Two I'm uh, I'm good in the sack as well?" Raul said woodenly. "Medtech training. Know all the spots and drugs to play with."

He walked on, slowly decreasing the interval between his paranoia checks, before he'd stopped almost without noticing. He was fine. These people weren't likely to slit his throat while he slept. Couple of hours unconsciousness to fast forward his implant's maintenance, and then some amphetamines and 'dorph. He'd be right as rain. "Three, I'm happy to be here, in this ritzy mega-block".
 
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Shit, man, it was a joke. Kirch wasn't expecting the rest of the party to play this grade school charade for real, but it seemed like there was no other choice now. With a deep breath and a stiff exhale, she followed the others to the elevator to the megabuilding. Doesn't exactly appear to be much of an upgrade from her precious living quarters, but what was she really expecting? At the least it's a unit designed to house more than half of a person.

On the way, she bumped into the occasional street urchin that was giving her more eye than she would prefer, but the iciness of her gaze and the briskness of her stride made her less than approachable. She hummed as she listened to Bunny and Raul describe their truths and lies. She didn't answer yet, but she clearly seemed to be confident that she had the others figured out.

"Kay, well... One, I have a healthy relationship with my parents," she spoke dryly and unenthusiastically. Maybe it helped with this game of casual deception. "Two, I have a healthy relationship with my inputs and outputs." Hm. She wasn't even sure herself if that one was true or not. She shrugged to herself, reaching into her synth-leather overcoat and pulling out a small, rather glitzy flask. "Three, I have a healthy relationship with booze." As she said this, she unscrewed the cap to the flask and took a quick swig before concealing it once again inside her overcoat with a subtle, ironic smile.
 
Tachi swung himself off of his bike and sent it rolling toward the megabuilding's parking garage on autopilot, jogging to catch up with the group as they headed inside and flashing Bunny a smirk when he caught him looking - not that he was making much effort to hide it. The sights and sounds of the megabuilding were nothing new - albeit that they were a different flavour to the ones over in Japantown.

The passing kids and their pursuers drew his attention briefly, along with some amusement. The gangers seemed like they were half off of their faces on smash or something similar. Clearly the little shits had picked their targets well.

"Alright, I'll bite. Here's my three." He held up his fingers to count them off. "One, I've gone through three cyberarms. Two, I lost my eye in a punch up when the other fucker accidentally triggered his wolvers. Three, my ex is a pop idol back in Japan."

Flashing a grin, he then turned to squint at Bunny and point at him. "For you, three. There's no way you get your nails done cheap. For you..." he angled his finger to point at Raul. "Three as well. You look like you're too hungover on something to find the idea of happiness anything but offensive. And you..." finally he turned the finger on Kirchhoff. "I'm pretty much just guessing, here, but for the sake of going for triple three, I'll say three as well."

Tucking his hand back in his pocket and leaning back against the elevator wall, he gave them all a lopsided smile. "So what's everyone else think?"
 
Well that was an easy way to establish some personal facts, even if the lies seemed, in his opinion, a bit easy to recognize. Unless there were some bullshit tricks going on. There were probably some bullshit tricks happening.

"I think Raul has no imagination of his own, very unoriginal, and he looks like a lot of things. Happy isn't one of them..." Said Bunny with a smirk at the end. Teasing their resident medical expert a bit.

"If your ex is a pop idol, I wanna fuckin' see pictures, by the way. I say the amount of cyber arms you've gone through is the fake news. Number was too specific... And Kirch, I'm gonna say you don't actually get along with the parents. Cuz why not? Booze one was tempting, though." He guessed as the elevator went up. Floor after floor, while they listened to some shitty ad about the newest Iron cleaner. Something something bang bang.

The elevator stopped three floors from their destination and a woman got in.

"Hey" She said to Bunny, who nodded in response. Her hair was up in a bun, and she wore a plastic-y looking dress. She gave the strange group a once over, and winked at Kirch. Who she addressed next.

"Got yourself three man-bitches ey? Clever girl..." She said, nodding in approval. Bunny scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fuck off" He said, because he'd seen her around the building. In the laundry room, so she must be one of their floor neighbors.

"I'd get a muzzle for the blonde... And take this one to the vet before he drops dead or some shit" She said, glaring at Bunny and pointing at Raul with a move of her head.
 
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