A blue figure sits in a rather crappy apartment, pizza boxes and beercans everywhere. Ragged black coat on the table, she sits with her legs up on the couch. She flips the channels on the TV, bored. A few minutes later she gives an annoyed groan, tilting her head back. She stands up, going over to her boxes of stuff in the corner. Junk, old tech, bags of money, a rusted swordblade. She picks it up, giving it a few swipes. She sets it back down, rifling through. She pulls out an old phone, of all things, and takes it back to the sofa, flipping it up and down in a scaled hand. The damn thing wasn't even hers, anyway. Somehow, Vanguard said it belonged to her and had it delivered. Well, she wasn't going to say no to free stuff.
She could never get it to open, though. No amount of randomly inserted keycodes would unlock it. Yet it always had some charge. She finds her gaze drawn from the phone, to the rusted blade. She remembers the day she got it. She had a choice, years ago. Go after the Family goon, and take his guns and his crew, or go after the Tsoo adept, and steal herself a magic sword. Well, it wasn't even magic in the end. And by the time she tried to go for the Family, all was left was his tattered coat. She eyes it on the table. It's not aged well. She always seems to think about then, when holding this weird phone. But then the phone vibrates, and a tinny sound comes from the battered speaker.
"This is Doctor Mechano, broadcasting on all E.V.I.L. Frequencies along with all known frequencies of past associates, I'm back and once I'm out of this place...I would very much like a pick up if any of you are still around and kicking or even the same person you were when I knew you. I require a workshop, a fresh set of clothes and a long, hot bath...I'll take two out of three..."
She looks stunned down at the device, mouth dropping open. It doesn't make any sense. Then the phone flips open with a click. There's a sharp pain in her head, and she moves a hand to her nose, and it comes away sticky and red. The phone has a poor quality screen, and some images flick up on it. They are crudely drawn, and she flicks through them, pieces of knowledge settling in her head. Two images stand out to her.
She closes the phone with a click, and leaps up, grinning. She grabs her coat and the rusty sword, chucking the phone into her pocket. She grabs a fistful of cash, and opens her window.
"Looks like I've got some trouble to get into."
She leaps out.
