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WHO: The Major and YOU!!! + a specific starter for Jacob
WHERE: Maurtia Falls & De Chima
WHEN: Throughout August
WHAT: Go on a crimefighting or mundane shopping adventure with the Major! Or feel free to hit me up if you want to do something specific.
WARNINGS: Violence, probably.

A - crimefighting in Maurtia Falls

>It was a dark and stormy night, so of course crime was afoot in Maurtia Falls. A box truck along with a single black escort car sped through the rain on the way to their scheduled drug delivery. The vehicles approached one of the lift bridges over the canal running through the city, leading to one of the rougher sides of town. As soon as the escort drove onto the bridge it began to lift, stranding the goon-filled car in the air. The box truck screeched to a halt before backing up and taking a different route. However, a burst of unseen gunfire tore into its tires, and it slammed into a concrete barrier.

The Major had orchestrated the entire series of events from a nearby rooftop, her thermoptic camouflage activated and the only evidence of her location being the muzzle flash from her gun. As she leaped down from the rooftop, the box truck's rear door opened and armed goons began to pour out. This might be a little more intense than she'd planned.

B - casual outing in De Chima

The lack of prosthetic body technology was a continual hindrance to the Major's productivity. Normally, she could have one shell to perform her mundane chores, while she took care of research and planning in another. But now that she was back here, she found herself having to do her shopping in person.

A need for the latest and greatest technology brought her to De Chima, and she could be found scoping out the various technology firms, or just relaxing for a moment at a local cafe with a glass of iced tea and a newspaper. It never hurt to check the classified ads, especially since her job as an arcade repairwoman of all things felt like even more of a demotion than her job the last time she was here.

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It seemed so long since she'd walked the streets of Maurtia Falls, even though she'd apparently only been gone for about eight months in this world. For her, it had been years. And a lot had changed during those years, including leaving Section 9 to work on her own. But now that she was back here, it threw her methodology into question. She certainly didn't have the infrastructure that she had back home to operate on the same level. At the same time, she wasn't sure if she wanted to go back to standard team-based investigations.

After a fortuitous meeting with Jacob after she arrived, she found herself calling him up to 'catch up on old times.' Of course, the real reason was to get an update about the status of Archangel, RISE, and any other groups and operations underway. Even if she didn't plan to join up with either organization necessarily, Jacob was a good man, and a good relationship to maintain regardless.

She waited for Jacob at the specified location: a rooftop overlooking some of the dingier, crime-ridden streets of Maurtia Falls. She stood at the edge, arms crossed as she looked out over the city in a gray bodysuit, her discarded trenchcoat lying nearby.

Jacob had thought that he would eventually get used to these dingy streets now that he lives in Maurtia Falls, but he still isn't a fan. The Falls still strikes him as more of a place to be survived than a town to live in. It's hard for him to picture people having ordinary lives and raising families here, with all the rain in the sky and dishonesty in the air.

The Major's return is definitely a spot of sunlight in the perpetually-overcast sky. He doesn't know yet how long she has been gone or how things might have changed for her in her world, but he does know from their bar fight encounter that her personality and her ability to kick jackasses in the head are still basically the same. Which is good news in his book.

Jacob climbs up to the roof through improper use of the fire escape, and approaches the Major wearing the plain, comfortable civilian clothing he usually favours as an imPort- jeans, jacket, strong enough to keep out the rain, nothing fancy. He greets her with a nod.

"Major."

The Major turns to him and smiles slightly. Out of all the people she could have run into during her recent reappearance, she was glad that one of the first had been Jacob. She could always trust him to lay things out straight.

"Jacob," she replied, leaning back against the short wall at the roof's edge. "What have I missed?"

Jacob grimaces slightly as he comes closer to her and the roof's edge. "Believe, you are definitely too sober to hear the whole story," he says dryly. In this context, laying things out straight calls for some wryness to get across the full magnitude of the trainwreck that is the imPort community.

"What's the last thing you remember? And... how long were you gone?"

"Are you offering to buy?" she says with a sly grin. Not that it would have much effect on her, sadly enough.

"The last big event I remember was when peoples' powers got swapped. For me, it's been two years. Seems like it's not been quite that long here."

Jacob shakes his head, smiling back. "Nah, I don't think so. I've seen how you can put it away- I'm not sure I can afford that kind of generosity."

His smile shrinks as he gets serious, thinking back to the power switch. He was Ported out himself during that, so it takes a moment to recollect. "You've missed over eight months," he says. "And a war. That's the biggest news: the Soviets lost it on us. I'm talking about a full-scale occupation- it was bad."

"Clearly they got expelled." Or at least she hasn't noticed any hammers and sickles around Maurtia Falls. "I can't imagine that's done wonders for the US's paranoia toward the USSR. What's been the fallout?"

"Nothing good." Jacob's face is grim. He paces back and forth a few steps, tense and uncertain. "Some officials disappeared- secret trials for treason. The government is still on edge. And they decimated a city in Hungary in retaliation- thousands of civilians killed."

He sighs, bowing his head. "I was one of the imPorts who protested the airstrikes. Fat lot of good that did. The media acted like we were being ungrateful. Almost no one would criticize what happened." That much, at least, hasn't changed since Motoko was last in this universe. Whether it's Archangel or the Debrecen bombings, the citizens of America reliably side with their militant authorities over any imPort 'troublemakers.'

"That's not surprising. Vengeance always seems to be the popular response after acts of war or terrorism." This 'nationalism run amok' version of the US seemed to inch closer and closer to the empire she new and disliked each day. "I'm guessing they didn't accomplish anything other than ramping up the tension, too."

Jacob scowls. "Well, the Russians haven't attacked since. I'm sure whoever supports Debrecen would take credit for that- say that they've been scared off. But I don't buy that. The Russians will want revenge sooner or later. I wouldn't let something like that go unanswered."

It's possibly the only area where Jacob can fully empathize with the Soviet point of view. He's seen enough war zones to picture the limp and ragged bodies of Debrecen's dead, and imagine how that kind of civilian carnage would make him feel if he lived in that part of the world. He knows he would want to hit back, and that there are probably lots of people on the other side of the Iron Curtain who feel the same way.

"It's a perpetual cycle of violence and escalation," she says, shaking her head slightly. Seems that war is the same no matter what universe you're in.

"Alright, I think I've got a handle on the situation at a macro level. What about Maurtia Falls? Seems about as welcoming as ever."

"Call me naive, but I actually expected better from the people in this country," Jacob says, his face falling. "Most of them have always seemed decent. But after the bombings, most of the natives backed what the government did. Anything to beat the Russians."

He sighs, then moves on to the local scene. Depressing as Maurtia Falls may be, at least it hasn't featured any war crimes lately. "Not much has changed. A lot of people still dislike us. New imPorts get attacked all the time. The main news is that Revan was Ported out. The new Ambassador is called Petyr Baelish. He runs a casino. Says he'll bring down crime by encouraging new business in the city." Jacob sounds skeptical as he talks about Baelish... but he did vote for him.

"A casino, huh?" Well, that doesn't inspire too much confidence. And Jacob of all people should know that casinos in Maurtia Falls are just barely-disguised crime dens. "Are you sure he doesn't just plan on giving the existing crime a more respectable face?"

Jacob shrugs. He doesn't share much confidence either, but all the other choices in the election had been even worse from his point of view.

"Hard to tell for sure. He's a pretty new imPort. Knows how to give a speech though- I'll give him that much."

He pauses, thinking of other developments Motoko needs to be updated on beyond local politics. One big item comes straight to mind. "Oh, yeah. And I joined RISE. I work under Armstrong now- field agent."

"Most politicians know how to give a speech, if nothing else," she says with a shrug of her own.

"Given up on operating under the radar, or is your job with RISE in addition to that?" Not that she disapproves. She worked under Armstrong as well last time she was here. But the unspoken question is: what's the status of Archangel?

Jacob's hand comes up to rub his shoulder, absently massaging a bit of stiffness from his last workout- or expressing some nerves. "'The Protector' still works independently with some of the old gang," he says, trying not to think of his last rescue mission with Kasumi and what an emotional disaster it turned into for both of them. "But right now, holding the line against the Soviets and the super-criminals seems more important than chasing assholes all over Maurtia Falls. There isn't much of a team left that's keeping up the old fight."

Which is sad to admit out loud, he realizes. He had hoped that Archangel would continue in some form after the disaster last June, after his arrest. But after Captain America was Ported out, the team simply drifted apart. The seemingly endless, impossible task of cleaning up Maurtia Falls was a heavy, slippery boulder- one that people could push for only so long.

She brings her hand to her chin thoughtfully. That's unfortunate. After so much blood, sweat, tears, and injuries, the team just faded away. "Have you thought about expanding the focus beyond Maurtia Falls? There's only so much RISE can do above board."

She's sure that Armstrong of all people has motives beyond just what is apparent, but at the same time, the Crane debacle from the last time she was here showed her how many limitations a government-sanctioned group had to operate under.

"Don't I know it," Jacob sighs. For all the alarm that has been raised about how much power RISE wields, being on the other side of the line has given him a new and discouraging perspective on how limited the organization really is, especially while the government refuses to jail the super-criminals it apprehends.

He turns away for a moment, looking out over the Maurtia Falls skyline. "There are times when I miss being in charge of my own team," he admits. "There were no limitations from above, and there's no substitute for being able to make your own decisions. But I don't think I'm ready to try something like that again. Not after last time.

He pauses, then adds: "It feels like I'm not done learning what I need to learn. Not yet."

"Trying to learn from Armstrong?" she asks with a quirked eyebrow. Granted, she didn't disapprove of Olivier's leadership. But certain adjectives like ruthless did come to mind that she wasn't sure lined up with what she knew about Jacob.

"The only downside to that is that you have to live with your decisions." Of course, Jacob already know that, didn't he? "You did good, given the situation we were in. And you've got plenty of people ready to help you if you ever decide to try again."

"Just trying to learn, period." Jacob shrugs again. He admires Armstrong's steel, but doesn't consider her one of his role models. He learns more from people like Shepard. "But- thanks. It means a lot to hear you say that." Considering the Major lost a leg the last time she was under Taylor's command, it's a boost to hear she still has that kind of faith in his judgement. And that he can count on her if and when it's time for him to take the lead again.

"What about you?" He asks, spreading his hands. "You were gone for years. Is anything new on your end?" She looks like she hasn't aged a day, to him- but he supposes a full-cyborg body with artificial skin has benefits like that.

"I've been working on my own for the past few years." So Jacob isn't the only one who stepped away from the burden of leadership, though her reasons were more due to the bureaucracy that nearly lead to civil war and the death of someone she used to care about. "I realized that some problems can't be solved with a team of skilled individuals operating within the confines of the law."

Jacob softly chuckles at that. It's the kind of news he would have expected from someone like Motoko: dramatic, fearless, and entirely in keeping with how she worked.

"A vigilante across two different universes," he observes. "How has that been working out for you? Must be though getting things done without solid backup."

"It took some getting used to, but I've figured out ways of managing it." He probably wouldn't believe her if she told him she operated multiple prosthetic bodies at once to maximize efficiency. And sadly, unless she can find someone really, really good at engineering, she doubts she'll have that advantage here. "Despite being in the military and working with Section 9, I don't think I've ever been much of a people person."

Considering how many imPorts are really, really good at engineering, multiple bodies might not be beyond the realm of possibility... But anyway, Jacob nods.

"Yeah, I get that." He feels fortunate enough to call Motoko a friend, but she's not exactly the warmest and most outgoing person around. She's a reserved professional with many thoughts and few words.

"For the record? Anything you end up doing here, you won't have to do alone. There's people who will have your back." Jacob chief among them.

"Thanks. I appreciate that." And she genuinely means it. There are precious few people that she trusts entirely to have her back. Jacob falls within that very exclusive club, after what they've been through with Archangel.

She grabs her coat and slips it on as she hops up onto the ledge. "I should probably get going. People might start talking if they see us together."

Jacob nods and makes ready to slip away himself, heading to a different route off the roof. "Right. Good catching up with you, Major. You know how to reach me if anything comes up."

It seems that some of the seedier characters in Maurtia Falls have gotten more cautious since the last time she was here. The underground fighting pit that used to be a haven of stupid, easily-manipulated thugs now seemed to be populated with slightly savvier types who were out to make money, not just witness a beatdown in the ring. Most wouldn't even talk to her unless she proved herself. By, say, fighting in the ring. Which was inconvenient, but not difficult for someone with her skills.

She imagines that she's considered the underdog as she enters the ring. Since there are precious few female participants, she's thrown right into the male weight class. Of course, her military-grade cyborg body weighs much more than even a musclebound boxer, but no need to bring that up. But then she notices her opponent: it's that kid that she met here before. Young, but tough. This is a... complication.

"I won't go easy on you, kid," she says, pretending to limber up her joints.

Damn it, I'm going to have to throw this fight, she thinks to herself. She's not really in the habit of beating up on teenagers.

With almost a year under his belt at this place, Kaneda's gained the reputation of the true underdog story. He wasn't the tallest of the people here, and at the start, wasn't even the most muscular. Time and age soon gave fruition to a scrappy, if still small for an adult male fighter, muscle finally filling out on his arms and the need to play to the crowd much less. Sure, he still gave a show, and at times he did play with his old strategy of wearing the opponent down first, but he didn't need to now.

Now he could stand on par with most of the people in this place.

Despite the newly gained muscle, he was still one of the leaner fighters, and one of the lower weight classes, so of course running into Motoko would be inevitable with how she was placed in.

Imagine his surprise at seeing her--he thought she'd--

"Well look who it is. When'd you get back here?"

He'd met her once, when he was just starting out and leaving with bruise after bruise from this place. But much like a lot of people here, she had left--and...well here she was. Maybe she'd always been here and just went below the radar. Who knew, with how this city or this WORLD worked.

"Never thought I'd see YOU on this side of the bars!"

There's a cocky roll of his shoulders as he tightens his boxing tape, readying himself. "You better not, because I sure as hell won't throw this."

"Why? Surprised I can hold my own in a fight?" Granted, it isn't like she wants to be on this side of the bars with him. Like she told him the last time they met, there are better uses of pent-up aggression than for sport and entertainment. Especially when there are probably at least a dozen faces in the crowd that could use a good punch.

"I've only been back for a few weeks. Figured I'd better check in on this place."

Before she can say any more, the bell rings, and the fight begins. In some ways, it's harder to fake a good fight than to do it for real. She needs to lose in a way that doesn't look like she's taking a fall.

"Looks like you've filled out a little since the last time I saw you," she teases, putting her arms up and inviting him to make the first move. "But I doubt you can actually hurt me."

"Nah, I've had plenty of girls hold their own against me. But I thought you told me to find healthier outlets!" As you can see, he did so well with that one. "Good to see you, either way."

His brows furrow instinctively at the sound of the bell, his whole stance changing to a mix of boxing and your average street fighter, as if he took the best of both worlds and combined them into a rather agile, if unpredictable form. It's almost like he's got his own invisible rhythm he's going to, strafing ever so slightly.

Her tease is met with open hands, giving a smile that can only be proud of such a comment. "Sometimes that's not the name of the game"

Not that he knew Motoko's little boon of her own, but sometimes it wasn't about who hit harder--it was who could last the longest. And that was Kaneda's own ace.

Without warning, he darts quickly at her, keeping his body compact and his feet from lifting too far up off the ground. If he can get her on the defense quickly, it'd be easy to keep her there.

"I guess do as I say, not as I do," she replies with a slight smirk. Of course, she's not exactly doing this for the fun of it.

If this was a real fight, she'd have a slight leg up on him, having seen him fight before. And it's not hard to surmise that one of his abilities is some form of increased durability. At least that meant she didn't have to worry too much about inadvertently injuring him badly.

As he charges forward, she slips into a more traditional martial arts stance. Her pain receptors are turned off, so theoretically it would take enough blunt force trauma to her head to give her a concussion to actually keep her down. She doesn't plan on letting the fight reach that point, though.

"I know you're tougher than you look," she says, stepping out of the way of his advance and countering with her own quick jab. Best to make it look like a real struggle. Exchange a few blows. "I guess your plan is to outlast me?"

The odds were heavily stacked against him, considering everything. But if that was supposed to wipe the cocky, half-assed smirk off his face, it sure does the opposite, taking Kel's training to heart as he uses his forearms to block that incoming jab. Classic boxing move, although already defending in that scenario's going to be a problem if he can't get a decent lead on her.

What if there's something you're not prepared for? rang in his head like an angry little nanny as he attempts to sidestep.

"Guess I could say the same about you." Just feeling that fist against his arm, he could tell that there was strength behind it. Something reminiscent of the Iron Bull. "It's one of my plans."

His body crouches down to slide underneath her arms and over to the opposite side, going for a surprise punch from the other side. "Or just outlast the bell. Sometimes they're here for a show."

"Let's hope they're not disappointed, then." It's hard not to be at least mildly disgusted by the idea of a bunch of two-bit thugs watching a teenager fight for entertainment, but she's always had a good poker face.

She smacks his fist to the side at the last possible moment and darts out of range with superb agility. Her arms come up in a defensive stance, giving him the perfect opportunity to go completely on the offensive. Time to take a few hits and make it look realistic.

"Did you learn this on your own?" His style did seem like what you might pick up on the streets or from fighting more experiences combatants.

Maurtia has no standards. But that was fine by Kaneda. The less he's treated like a weak little kid the better. If there was one thing Kaneda knew how to do, it was handle himself in the scummiest parts of a city.

His brows raise in surprise at her agility--he'd expected her to be fast on her feet, but she exceeded all his expectations and pivots on the balls of his feet. Kaneda was known to be fast, faster than any military cop back home. But this woman...she gave him a run for his money.

Seeing that opening, he grounds himself and aims low, going for any open spot she gives. "Most of it. You've got to be good where I come from."

And in here. If you're a bad bet, you're not going to be making any money.

"Where'd YOU learn?"

She lets the punch slip through her defenses, hitting her solidly in the side. Despite not actually feeling anything, she lets out a mock grunt of pain. Of course, it's unlikely that the blow did any actual damage, and to Kaneda, it probably feels like he punched a brick wall.

"Here and there," she says through gritted teeth. "Most of it from my military days."

She falls back and attempts to counter with a kick aimed at his side. He's not bad at all. It's probably no secret why a scrappy fighter like him is popular in the ring.

It hits a bit harder than he's used to, and his fist jolts back in a bit of surprise (and he's got to shake it out a bit), but other than that, no comment's made on that. His skeleton was built similarly in this world, although much less literally. It only FELT like you'd hit a solid wall--it wasn't anything but bone in reality.

"YOU were in the military?"

Now that gets an interested tone out of him, the kick connecting and...well, Motoko could probably feel his own sturdiness underneath that kick as he's sent back against the bars. There's a sounding 'clang', and for a moment it looks like that hit hard. But he smirks, shoving himself off effortlessly. The crowd ooo's, cheering for the woman as well as telling Kaneda to get his act together. It's taken in stride, though, Kaneda holding up a hand and saluting with two fingers.

If this boy had anything going for him, it was improv.

"Wish all soldiers looked like you, maybe I'd follow the rules a bit more."

Kaneda.

"Is it that hard to believe?" she says with a slight smirk. Granted, she probably doesn't look like the stereotypical army veteran. Which he confirms with his second comment.

"Flattery's not going to make me go easier on you." She darts forward and throws another punch at him, but leaves herself wide open to counterattack. Given what she felt when her leg connected before, she doesn't really have to worry about her blows inadvertently hitting him. He can take it.

"Seems like your adoring fans are a fickle crowd."

"Now see--THAT sounds like a cop!" he laughs, cut short by that punch to his chest. The impact sends him stumbling back, feet working quickly to get underneath him as he goes for a strike back at her. The crowd cheers for both sides at this rate, clearly liking the up and coming scrapper vs. the new contender.

"Heh, maybe they shouldn't put their whole paycheck on me, you know? Sometimes I make mistakes.

I'm only human, after all."

At that, his legs push off again, going to close the distance between them and not give her any room to get away. The closer he is, and the quicker he attacks, the better chance he has at getting a few hits in.

Although a small part of him wonders if she's got the same ability he does. His punches aren't phasing her at all...

"Aren't we all? Well, except for those around here that clearly aren't human." It's a wry statement, given how little of her human body remains at this point.

His assault works: she falls back, putting up her arms to defend herself but letting some of his punches get through. She lets out a cry of pain as one of his hits connects with her side, feigning injury.

"Is that all you've got?" she rasps from between clenched teeth.

She always was a pretty good actor.

The statement goes unnoticed, at least with the underlying meaning behind it, as Kaneda smiles and wipes blood onto his glove from his cracked lips. It's nothing to him--this is the most his body ever got, whether it be a paper cut or shards of glass.

And he can't help but grin in satisfaction at her as she watches her try to recover, the fans clearly reacting to him gaining the upper hand.

"I'm full of surprises, lady."

It's said in spurts, as he tries to catch his breath.

"That all you're gonna give me?"

She frowns, eyes narrowing as she pretends that his taunts are getting under her skin. "Alright kid, it's time to end this. I've got other places to be today."

She charges forward recklessly, throwing a strong punch at his stomach. However, it's not particularly fast, and she's left herself completely open for a well-placed knockout blow.

She'd almost like to see just how much the kid can take, but she wasn't lying. She does have other places to be today.

Her glare is met with the same cocky smirk he's had this whole time, but there's a single difference in his eyes, turning dark and ready to take her on.

But her charge is fierce, and Kaneda finds himself both on the offensive as much as the defensive on this one, relying on his speed to get any quick jab in he can. Anything he gets hit by is taken rather well, although bruises will definitely form where her fist lands. The downside to his power? He gets all the damage on the skin.

There it is. The one area where he could throw a kick with all his might to send her flying. His legs were the strongest part about him, and he takes full advantage of that as he places one right by her abdomen and shoves her back against the bars.

He might not have 'won' this battle, but it's not like he doesn't know her physiology.

To him and the crowd, he sure looks like it.

Edited 2016-09-12 06:08 (UTC)

She takes the blow, which is surprisingly strong despite her enhanced physique. Hitting the bars with a crash, she lets out a cry of shock and pain before crumpling to the ground, out cold. Or so it seems, at least.

The crowd, of course, goes wild, while Motoko just has to stew in her mock defeat. Afterwards, she'd have to find him and congratulate him on his victory, of course.

In any case, hopefully the performance was good enough to get her an in with some of the shady financiers of this little soiree.

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