(Untitled)

[rompot_iisous]

WHO: John Connor, generally open to Dependables.
WHERE: Atatla Hotel - John Connor's Room
WHEN: Friday, Saturday, Maybe Sunday. Loose with time here. Damn those Connors. DAMN THEM.
WARNINGS: None yet, I'll edit if that changes. Connor Cursing, I guess?
SUMMARY: BY FAR the most 'exciting' part of any action movie, obviously, is the part where the

Comments

Saturday, evening, after shit at the bar.

[terminatefate]

It wasn't her fault this time around. She'd been lucky that she made it out of that fucking bar with less than a broken bottle to her head and a few bruises. Nothing was jammed, she could rotate her should just fine, and her fingers weren't broken. Considering the mayhem, Sarah was mildly satisfied with the outcome

OH MY.

[rompot_iisous]

John wasn't exactly deaf, and their rooms were connected by that bathroom. So, you know, John could hear all that puttering about and whatnot coming from the bathroom, and took a minor break from his hackery-dackery to go and knock on the bathroom door. "...are you okay?"

(LIONS & TIGERS & BEARS IN MEXICO?)

[terminatefate]

"Nothing life threatening," she said, sponging around a tender area. "Motherfucking kangarooman decided to punch some dickfuck narco in the face. Bar went up like it was una fiesta especial para pendejas. Getting to the goddamn door without a knife wound was lucky as hell."

She grimaced.

"Grab the tweezers? Some assfuck decided I looked like I needed a fucking Coke." Upside the head. There were pieces she could feel but not see. "I was trying to let you work, but, as long as you're here..." Sarah gestured with the bloody towel, exasperated with events in general.

BUT NO TINMAN

[rompot_iisous]

"Kangarooman." Snorting, and grabbing the tweezers. "Jesus fucking christ. Hold still." What the hell does it say about him that pulling glass out of his mother (or a reasonable version thereof) was not an unknown factor? Or that he barely even blinked at it.

[standaloneshell]

John's presence in the network is like the ripples of force set in motion by a cruising shark. His machinations touched deftly through the standard rundown of the security network, and touched off the skittering little indicators that the Major had set up in every hardline with enough space to accommodate them.

She was aware of his presence almost immediately, and reacted by dropping her ports off the network. John Connor was a shark in a digital sea- but Motoko was a bigger one, and just as hungry.

She let him peruse the security footage, the wiretaps and motion sensors, allowed the access to the security input-pads that controlled the locks on the doors, save one. The Japanese portion of the villa would seem, to him at least as much as anyone, to be identical to the other suites. Of course she had taken care of that herself; even if only for this mission, these criminals here her men, and she intended to keep them whole

[rompot_iisous]

It was certainly a two way street, this connection. He could get into any system, but anyone with similar abilities or skills...they could very well get right back into his mind. He really hadn't considered such a thing before, and it wasn't likely he'd consider it very soon. After all, it wasn't as if the information he was getting was wrong. It wasn't as if he hadn't expected it.

Even if that was only because of her. He certainly didn't know that.

[standaloneshell]

Satisfied that the job was done, Motoko left behind no sign she'd ever been and withdrew along with his request to the server for the feed currently focused on the Italian delegation's head bodyguard.

He was just a kid, and very new to this game. She'd have to see to it that he didn't get himself ghost-hacked, later.

Re: Early AM Saturday

[rompot_iisous]

There is a momentary pause on this end of things, mostly because John wasn't really expecting any sort of...presence on the line. He doesn't really reply so much as send a friend-or-foe signal, all while back masking his location.

He's not an idiot, after all. He doesn't want to lead people right to his door.

[rompot_iisous]

Trying and pretty much succeeding. It's not like John has no idea what he's doing here. He keeps at work, sending another code the other man's way.

What