The Techno-Zone

Oscar had found himself in the heat of battle with a few random thugs commiting a small bank heist. This wasn't out of the ordinary for are dear metal armed teen, in fact stuff like this happened more commonly than you'd expect.

He'd walked into the small bank with his costume on, holding a close proximity tazer in his right hand and his trigger mechanism in his left. When the thugs spotted him he threw his hands behind his back and the tazer started to unbuild itself, wrapping it's components on the mechanism and creating a sort of stun baton, all he need now was a pole or something to conduct it.

Luckily there was a loose pipe lying on the floor, all he needed to do was keep the thugs attention on him.

"Hey guys, this is a mighty fine robbery your commiting, might be in the top 5 stupidest bank jobs I've seen." He whistled, the thick accented thug blurring something out, Oscar not really caring as he slowly moved to the wall the loose pipe was near. "But you know I gotta hand it to you, your doing well with this not shooting at me thing." He smiled as he slowly pulled the pipe towards his hand, the guard noticing and firing off a shot, the bullet stopping a foot from Oscars face, pushing it back with magnetic force.

"You had to blow it." He sighed as he walked up to the thugs, their bullets all stopping all and falling before reaching Oscar face. He stunned them all, 1, 2 ,3, 4, 5. With all of the goons knocked he left through the back door, letting the police deal with the goons.

Later on he decided he'd go out and celebrate by going to a underground rock show, just quietly sitting in the corner.
Little did he know something was going on backstage, something he'd have to deal with later on.

The body lay dead at her feet; he was alone, some small-time groupie of the band currently polluting the night air with what they try to pass as music. It was dark in the storage room, and again Katrina shook her head at the gullibility of men; a pair of pretty eyes and few flirtatious words and they were like putty in her hands. It was pathetic. With a scoff, she kicked his hand off her thigh where it had been before she snapped his neck; perhaps a little more obvious and brutal than she had been hired to do, but the contract had told to make him a lesson; no one disrespects the Silver Hand.

So she prepared; the body wouldn’t stay hidden forever, he had friends with the rest of the groupies who would, inevitably, find the body. Or a janitor would need the supply of chemicals, both legal and otherwise, stored in this dark room. But, she could make it a lesson. A few modifications to her explosive capsules and she was satisfied; the next time the door was opened, they were in for a rather explosive surprise, and one she was quite certain she wanted to be around to see. Not quite within the contract but, she thought with a rather wicked grin, certainly worth the possible reprimand.

The dress she was wearing, a long, slender tube of dark blue, hugged her curves deliciously, and the high heels she wore added quite a few inches to her short frame, for which she was grateful. Her face was decorated lightly with make-up, just a dark shade of lipstick, sending her flashing blue eyes into focus. Her hair, like always, was pin straight and ran like ink down her shoulders and back. She was, rather ironically, dressed to kill. The door to the main club opened inwards - be thankful for small blessings - and she was instantly assaulted by the noise muffled by the back rooms of the warehouse they were using as a makeshift club. She exited the stage, her eyes like oceans frozen in waves and defiant expression setting pause to anyone daring to think her demure or weak.

She took a spot in the back corner, away from most prying eyes, but still able to keep an eye on the fun.

"Well shit!"

exclaimed Travis as he watched the security tape of the bank job.  Travis always enjoyed watching his clients get hurt and this was no exception.  Travis chuckled a bit as the man who was interested in his services closed the computer screen.  The man was 40ish, nothing special except he did have an entourage of men in suits holding AKs.  Oh, and he was offering 50k to Travis for the completion of this job.

"That punk needs to be thrown out of here, we've got a bracket in this city with bank robbers and he's messing the whole thing up."

Travis looked at him confused and questioned,

"One dude?  One dude is taking down your operation?  That is beyond sad."

"Listen, we can handle a few jobs getting stopped by these heroes in costume, but not as many as he is shutting down.  He's ruining the bigger picture."

the client responded to Travis.  Now Travis had questions on his mind, mostly about what the hell he meant by a big picture.  Instead he just took the job quietly, the client told him the place Oscar was headed towards according to a gang scout, a rock show.  Travis sighed deeply when he heard that, he didn't exactly like rock, always was a rap guy.  Side affects of living on the street is liking what the street makes.  

Travis teleported to a place he had visited many times that was close to the concert.  About a mile out of the concert, Travis stepped out of the alleyway he snapped into and began to make his way towards the target's location.  What was his mission?  Simple, get him away from New York.  Travis thought of places to drop him into, Cuba?  North Korea?  Maybe Iraq.  Somewhere where he wouldn't come back from.  Travis never had the guts to kill anyone, not after...  well...  Now he just made them disappear from the area forever.  

He was coming up to the location of the concert, he adjusted his brown trench coat and began to scan the area for the hit.

As he usually did Oscar had came to this event in his coolest attire (well cool to his own standards). He wore a black army coat with the sleeves rolled down, his left arm covered in bandages to hide their metallic identity. Under this coat was a long shirt that faded from black at the collar to white at its base. On his legs were and pair of black, simple skinny jeans which matched quite nicely with the pair of grey pumps on his feet. And of course the beanie which he wore almost everyday.

As more and more people seeped into the show Oscar found himself slowly getting pushed into the side of his seat, deciding it best that he should go over to the corner where the girl in the slender dress was seeing it was one of the quieter areas. He shuffled through the crowd before sitting down and pulling out his phone, a device clearly modified due to his job, grabbing a bottle from his bag and drinking the soda kept inside it.

He twiddled his thumbs as he sat and listened to the music play, a small smile coming over his unconfident expression.

It seemed she had company, and, if his appearance is anything to judge by and it very often is, good company. She prided herself on being to judge the personality of someone by their looks; she was wrong more often than right, but she didn’t think she was this time. He looked … well, he looked good. It was an unquantifiable feeling, but feel it she did. As he stood near her, pulling out a phone that Katrina was surprised to see was of a specialized brand - highly encrypted, with a hard case impossible to be opened and theft-proof - that only those in certain lines of work used; her line of work, specifically.

”I see we have similar tastes in gadgets.”

She slid her phone across the table; significantly lighter due to her size and necessity for quick movement, but the same essence, though her’s was black with a clenched fist, silver in color, on the back. The covert sign for the Silver Hand. Anybody who dwelled in the dark places knew of them; their reputation was legendary. You did not cross the Silver Hand; to do so was to welcome death. Rumors of magic among the higher ranked assassins persisted, though most people doubted this was true. Or, if it was, they certainly showed no obvious signs of it, either personally or by contract; they’ve killed as many witches and wizards as politicians.

”And here I was thinking you looked boring.”

She flashed a brilliant smile at him, her eyes glistening like two twin sapphires. After he had a mere glance, she hid the phone again, though her expression said it was nothing personal. She didn’t like to give anyone too good a glance at her personal effects lest they discover her identity, even something as covert as her work phone. It always pays to be extra careful with the types that would lurk in underground clubs such as these; she herself being the prime example, she thought with a smirk.

”Perhaps, after an introduction, we can go someplace quieter and talk? Like a restaurant; I find myself with a craving for something Italian.”

A bit bold and unlike her, perhaps; she was rarely this straightforward. But she had just finished a job; she was jubilant, she was excited, and her blood was pumping! Time to throw caution to the wind.

As Oscar usually assumed that female attention was directed to someone beside him he ignored the girl at first, his mental discussions with himself drowing out the noise around him along with the sweet tune of the music. He kept his eyes on his phone until she slid hers onto the table, it stopping in front of him. He looked up at the girl with his emerald eyes, only now paying attention to her appearance.

If there was one thing his enhanced eyes were good at was studying faces, especially attractive ones. It was her eyes that captivated him the most, not daring to look at the girls figure because of his nervous nature, something that was thriving right now. He felt the warm feeling in his cheeks as he began to speak. Not to mention he'd just been asked out by the girl.

"W-Why would you want to do t-that?" the boy stuttered as he looked at her trying to break eye contact but failing. He felt a lump in his throat, half fear that the girl was trying to hurt him and the other being a curious form of excitement.

"S-Sorry, it's just that I'm not use to girls,
you know, talking to m-me" He mutter with red cheeks, realising he sounded a little bit rude.

Travis searched the entire gathering of people outside the show, he didn't see him.  He would switch from his phone, which held a screenshot of Oscar from the bank heist, and the masses around him periodically looking for his mark.  After fifteen minutes of searching, Travis decided that the hit was in he club.  Travis was not about to pay for a ticket to this crap, he could here the songs playing out of the basement and he could barely stand it.  

Travis walked around the building into the alley way behind the main entrance, Where he located a backdoor entrance.  A thick metal door, with a bouncer standing there looking about as intimidating as could be.  Travis was undeterred by this and walked directly up to the man and asked,

"Would you be so kind as to allow me to enter this building?"

"You got to be kidding me?!?"

The bouncer barked, looking as if he was about to pounce on Travis.  Travis laughed a bit, put his phone in his pocket and then all of a sudden rushed him, grabbing his hand as it was being raised to punch Travis.  "SNAP" Travis was quickly on the edge of Willis Tower's roof, holding the bouncer by the arm over the edge of the roof.  Travis held fast and shouted at the bouncer,

"I'd hate to drop you, but I'd like to get into that show without spending a dime."

"SHIT!  I'll let you in, please don't let go!"

Travis snapped his fingers and brought the two back to the alley way, right in front of the back door.  Travis let go of the dazed man before him.  The bouncer threw his hands on his knees and tried to Catch his breath.

"I'mma go in now"

Travis declared, the bouncer didn't even notice as he entered the building as he was still in shock from the whole ordeal.  As Travis entered the door, the sound of rock immediately penetrated his ears making him grimace just a tad.  He slowly walked down the stairs of the back door, about ten steps in total, there a second door was waiting.  He opened it and found a hallway filled with rooms, most he decided were dressing rooms as he walked down the hall.  There was practically no-one in the whole hallway, except a few stage hands running here and there.  Everyone who was in the hallway was too busy to care about Travis, since he entered the back-way, they thought that he must supposed to be here.  The closer he got, the louder the music got, which caused him twitched just a bit.  

As he reached the end of the hall, he was met with swinging doors that from what he could tell was the entry way into the general public of the show.  He took a deep breath and went through the door, he threw his hands up to block all the stage lights and other crap shinning in his face.  He cussed a bit from the crap he saw when he entered the show floor.  There were people smoking crap and people making out, practically having sex on the floor by the wall.  He began to walk towards the masses of people standing around the stage to his right and began to push his way through them all.  He kept his eyes sharp looking for his mark, when suddenly he saw someone that looked very similar to what he was looking for.  He was in the corner with some girl and "woah, those eyes."  Travis was amazed at the fact that the eyes of that girl stood out to him from where he was, at least 35 yards away.  He shook it off and began to make his way towards his mark.

”Well, I can’t understand why. You’re certainly not bad to look at. As for why...” Her voice purred the last word; a little on the nose with the flirting, but she was being affected. Not by alcohol, she refuses to touch it, but something just as addictive; the atmosphere. The people, the loud music, and rebelliousness of it all … it made her blood pump and her pulse race. Plus the thrill of the kill already had heat skittering across her skin. Well, it almost made her seem like a different person. And then add this cute boy who seemed to be in a similar business as hers … she couldn’t really be blamed for her interest could she?

”I find you very interesting. Is that a crime?”

She laughed, a tinkling, musical sound like water dropping on crystal before sliding her phone back into her clutch. It never hurts to be too careful, of course; and it was that thought that led her to lead over her shoulder. So far, the body had remained undiscovered, Katrina could afford another couple minutes, maybe a full date. She’d never been on a date before, it could be interesting. Just as she was drawing her attention back to her companion, she spotted him; a man unlike the other party-goers. He was not dancing; this in itself was unusual, the beat was enough to make Katrina want to move, and she wasn’t an expressive person by any stretch of the imagination. But this one … he held a determined step in his gait, a similar one in his face, and was making a beeline straight to them. The smile slipped from her face as quickly as it appeared.

”Friend of yours?”

Her voice was strained, suspiciously so. Instantly, she leapt into action, the high heels being left behind as jumped from her chair. Interesting enough, golden rings had leapt to her body as quickly as she had jumped from the chair. Encircling her wrist, ankles and neck, their were matching ones on the floor; as Katrina stepped, the one underneath that foot disappeared, only to reappear the instant her foot hit the ground. But his attention wouldn’t be able to be held by these for long; four marble-like spheres were pulled from the depth of her clutch and tossed, haphazardly, into the middle of the dance floor. At the same instant large clouds of smoke billowed forth, Katrina grabbed the strangers hand and pulled him out the door, running from out of the alley.