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Dare you to Move; Patch/Nic one on one R (violence)
Topic Started: Dec 28 2009, 06:13 PM (2,616 Views)
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Patch sat alone watching the sunrise. It was a new beginning for Mobius. The world had changed since the defeat of Dr. Robotnik, and the fall of Eggman. Yet, this was not his home. This belonged to another generation. It would be his brother who would tell the story of the Freedom Fighters to his children and grand children. He shook his head as he stood up with a small smile. He knew his brother would never forgive him, but maybe he might find redemption one day.

He walked through the forest, perhaps he could find some working star posts, and make his own way home. Considering what was left of his home anyway.

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It would seem the world was now at peace, there was still much to be done. Robotnik's reign was over but there was still plenty for the freedom fighters to do. Sure there would no longer be a need to fight, but order would need to be established. Just simple labor that this Mobian didn't feel she needed to be apart of. Her services were barely needed during the tyrants reign, and now she was pretty much out of a job till the next world ruler wannabe came into power. Nic the Weasel hated down time. Once more going through her mental list she sighed. Without the fat man's distractions to commit a crime now would surely land her in jail easy as sin. Having steeled herself away. Keeping to the shadows and keeping a low profile.

Of course best way to do that was sit right under the noses of those idiots. Having found herself a cozy place in the city of New Mobotropolis. There she had made herself right at home. But the itch to continue her work was always something that gnawed at her mind. So she took to some...underhand dealing in the down time she had. Namely, she dealt with smuggling tech from one world... to another.
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His journey took him into New Mobotropolis. There, he found himself in a bar where he overheard a conversation about an exchange of highly sought after tech. Interested, he listened but made no motion to show he was actually paying attention. He knew the star posts were sought after devices for inter-dimensional travel. They were, working worm holes.

"Meet us at the west gate, 2:30. We will be there with the stuff. I think you'll be quite pleased." came the muffled voice.

Patch's ears flicked backwards, then he glanced at the mobians making the deal. They weren't too big, easy targets. As they finalized the agreement over drinks Patch was already marking them. They left and he followed. Up a side street, through the walkway under the main road, to an older complex of buildings. He hated how Nicole had total control using her nanites. It made it very difficult to hide. Yet, he imagined it was all the more difficult for those wishing to make the deal as well.

He waited sleeping when he could until the alarm on his watch went off. It was time. He watched the two figures leave, and stalked them in the shadows. When they were near their intended rendezvous, he jumped them. It was easy to dispatch them, he wiped the blood from his blade after tossing their remains in the dumpster. Then taking their coats and a hat he disguised himself to meet the dealer.

He saw the figure sitting under a streetlight. Keeping within the shadows he approached slowly, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Have you got the stuff?" He asked gruffly.

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There was some preperation on her side. Having received the call she gathered up the gear her customers requested. Some truly wicked stuff. Oh she was expecting top dollar for this. When it neared time for her leave she tossed the mixed weaponry and chaos spyhon into her bag. Pulling on her long coat, tucking her ears and hair into a tight cap. Her baggy clothing mixed with some grungy looking make up hid most of her feminine features and thus she wouldn't be discovered so easily. A master of blending it, even with the get up, she made her way causually to the meeting spot.

It was dangerous to go alone. It always was. But it was what kept her alive. Waiting under the lamp post, arms behind her head and bag looped over her shoulder. At any moment she could reach down and pull her pistol loose, but that was a last resort, wasn't it? Her tail twitching behind her as she hear the scratchy voice address her. Eyeing the figure she nodded, lowering her hand and touching it to the bag.

"Got the rings?" She motioned to the modest hotel that was just down the street. "If ya do, we finish there." No need to have Nicole spot the transaction, or find something funny going down.
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Rings? He knew nothing about rings! He cursed under his breath. Thinking fast he nodded. The hotel would give him the advantage. At least if things got bad, the body could be ditched in the woods behind.

He followed the weasel, keeping his head low.


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She easily picked up on his panic, his change is certinaty. But she kept herself poised, at the ready. She knew this wasnt going to end well. She knew some of her clients were jumpy, but these guys were regulars. And wasn't there supposed to be two of them? Keeping the glare out of her expression, she motioned for him to follow. As always she had the room booked. A regular. Opening the door she pushed it open and motioned for him to enter before she followed.

Closing the door behind them, her back to it. Arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him. She was just as ready to dispose of his body come the time. "How the hell are ya?"
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He was startled by her sudden exclamation of familiarity.

"Fine." He replied.

At this point he did not care. They were alone, with only four walls to bear witness to a murder. Although, there would be no need, if she was compliant. All that was required from her was information.

"Your clients, are dead." He said frankly.

"I need information, I know you're the best in the city to get it. Problem is, my funds are tight. I can only pay you in Moebian gold." He said. "I'll pay the first up front, the rest will be when you deliver what I require."

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Nic sighed, the voice had been easy enough to pick up. Though they had only met once, maybe twice throughout the reign of Eggman, she couldn't forget that voice of his. It seemed he still couldn't tell who she was. Typical of men. Or perhaps it was just a habit. Attention to detail keeps one alive. Reaching up she removed the cap, her ears bounced into place and her hair fell around her shoulders.

"I see no reason why ya had to go and do that. They were my regulars." She could careless about the murder, it was now the shorter list of clients that bothered her. Running her fingers through her hair. The mention of gold did sound...good. "What can I do fer ya?"
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He removed his hat and coat.

"I'm looking for star posts." He said quietly. He knew her, but he was surprised to see how informal she was acting around him. It didn't matter. She was open for a deal. He felt himself staring at the curve of her hip and how her hair just fell down her back.

He cooly raised a brow as he watched her.

"So, can you help me?" He asked.
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She wasn't completely unaware of the way he watched her. Ignoring it, for now. It was all business, no pleasure. Leaving her coat on she merely opened it and placed her hands on her hips. Showing off her custom made hand gun, small and 'primitive' as it was, it still did the job. "Star Posts? Well that'll cost ya a good chuck, love. Haven't seen those in awhile and gettin my hands on one is gonna take some time. But I aint sayin I can't do it."

Now it was her turn to eye him. Watching him strip off the stolen clothing. A wonder how someone like him lived so long. He was a survivor wasn't he? "Got some time?"
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"I've always got time chere." He replied calmly.

He glanced at her weapon. It was a pretty nice piece of equipment, for a lady.

"I'll pay you up front the first half, the second when you get me the posts." he repeated.

There was an awkward silence that fell between them now. The two rogues had known each other in the past, and then life got in the way. He found himself staring at the tacky carpet and the cheesy velvet painting that hung over the king sized bed.

"You'd think there was some sort of trade in tacky hotel interior design." He muttered.

It was clear that this place was well known by other professions as well. The cries emitting from the room next door along with the clientele that seemed to hang around the hotel surprised him. Perhaps he did not expect the oldest profession to still be going strong in Nicoles New Mobotropolis. Nevertheless, a city was a city, and this was just another part of it.



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"Good. I'll need to track down some other contacts to get what ya need." And by other contacts she meant several of her old 'friends'. And then there was Nack. A jerk, an idiot, and worthless, but he had his uses. It was rumored he managed to get his hands on some sweet gear some time ago. Here's hoping she wouldn't have to kill him to get to it.

The silence was rather bothersome and left her staring about the room just the same. About to comment on what he said only to have a rather loud sound cry pass through the walls. All else that followed left little to the imagination. It wasn't something new, but it did act as a big distraction during her transactions. Walking over to the wall she banged on it and called out. "Hey, ya know she's fakin it right?"

When silence followed she snickered, looking over her shoulder at him. "So, that all ya need?"
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He watched her as she banged on the wall. A small smile creeped over his face as she yelled to the other room. The silence did not last long though, it seemed like only a moment had passed and they were back at it again. He shook his head and turned to the weasel.

"Here is my card." He handed her a small card with an address on it.

"When you have found the star posts, look me up." He said, as he walked towards her. He pressed the card into her hand, moving close enough that he could feel her heart beat under her shapely breasts. He saw her fur rise along her chest and he smiled. He leaned in, and breathed into her ear.

"I await your return."


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She sighed, shaking her head. Here's hoping this didn't last much longer. Turning to face Patch, she blinked when he came close. He was a quiet one, and his approach didn't seem very professional. When the card was pushed into her hand she gripped it. Finger's brushing against his, eyes narrowing when he pressed a little too close for comfort. They hadn't reached THAT point. Her body stiffened, fur bristling. Oh he could feel her heart beat begin to race, the smallest blush formed on her muzzle but she showed no outward sign of enjoyment.

The whisper in her ear wasn't helping. Ears twitched then quickly pinned back. "Don't worry, I know ya'll come lookin for me. They always do." Her tone just as teasing as his. Going as far as to press her hand against his chest, brushing her fingers downward. Pushing past him, heading for the door, picking up her bag on the way.
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He watched her go. Well this was interesting. He followed her out into the night. He did not watch where she left, he knew she would be long gone. So, he trekked to his own place, a small apartment on the south side. It was not even his, rather it was borrowed. Ok, stolen.

Thing was, the current occupier was dead. No one asked questions. The guy wasn't liked much anyway. Patch had disposed of the body, and cleaned the place up to a point that it was some what habitable. The mail was a problem. The guy had serious debt issues. Possibly why when Patch found him, he was hanging from the ceiling.

The coyote shook his head.

Suicide was always the cowards way out. At least this place was good, as long as the water was still working. He could make do using a battery powered stove to cook. Then, if necessary, he'd leave this hole and take his chances in the forest. Perhaps he would get lucky, and find an old barracks. Anything was better than this city.

He could only hope that Nicolette would do good on her end. The star posts were his ticket home. At least, what could be called "home".

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In the rush to leave she had completely forgotten about the payment she was to receive. Cursing herself, this was something she never did. Never have. Well she was already half way home, she didn't feel like turning back at this time of night to track him down. Once home, something nicer then most mobians could afford, she placed her items back in the hidden storage in the back recesses of her closet. Removing her clothing, setting them away for next time. The usual rotuine would follow. Watching the grime from her face, but at least she didnt have to waste time washing blood from her fur.

It was nearly four am and she couldn't sleep. Her radio blasting, the latest song by none other then Mina the Mongoose and her little 'group'. Annoying. Even after a shower she was restless. It had to be the money. There was no other reason she couldn't get him out of her head. The late morning hours came and she had yet to get a wink of sleep.

Dressing in her usual attire, jean jacket and matching shorts. Her hair tied back in a braid, and finished with her trademark hat. Her gun hidden, out of view in an ankle holster. Boots on last she plucked the card Patch gave her and read the address. Tucking it under her pocket she was out to find him. And grab some breakfast on the way.
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He woke up feeling groggy. The bed was uncomfortable, and the morning was pretty much shot. He showered and got dressed. Then scavenged around the pantry for something that would be edible. He would kill for a decent meal, something that was not based on cheap ramen and manufactured meat. His stomach growled in protest. "Guys gotta eat." He thought with a scowl. Ramen. It was all they had. Better than nothing.

He filled the electric kettle with water and flipped the switch. Then he turned on the tv. It was a nice place really. This guy did have money once, or everything was paid on credit. He chuckled. "Damn, they'll never see a dime back." That was life. It was an unavoidable and unspoken truth. He shook his head. The city was filled with such hypocrisies. It is common knowledge that no one talks about it, so if they don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist.

It was the story of his life.

Daddy's little mistake, never talked about. Forgotten. Until he came back. Then, he made daddy pay, he made him pay dearly. Of course, he could have revealed himself, before the very end. Perhaps he should have. Patch shook his head. No. It was better the way he did it. His father served his purpose. His death was just a bonus. Patch watched the news. Nothing particularly interesting, other than the celebration party was disrupted by some cyborg monkey freak on a cloud. Yet there was this disgusting positive spin to everything. It made his hackles rise. Even the fucking weather report was cheery.

"I imagine this place would still be happy during a nuclear holocaust." Patch muttered as he ate. Gods, he needed to get out of this place.

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The trek to Patch's was a fairly easy one. No one had seemed to bother with her, nor were there many Mobians wondering about since the great celebration concert was playing. The moment she stopped outside of the coyote's door and hesitated. What would he say when he saw her here? This was simply business and nothing more. Raising her hand, about to land a not so light rapt on the door when she heard him speak. 'Company?' Leaning in she pressed her ear to the door. If she was on less friendly terms with him she would have simply snuck in, but she took the lady's way. Now more insistent to enter.

"Anyone home?" Checking the door to see if it was locked. If it wasn't she'd let herself in.
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Patch tensed up as his ears flicked back to the voice at the front door. He did lock it. He was not expecting anyone, well he certainly did not expect her. He turned off the tv and moved slowly around the apartment trying to make as little noise as possible. The owner kept a Walther P99 under his bed. Patch thought it was odd that the guy didn't blow his brains out, but he didn't ask questions as to the motives. Patch quietly loaded a clip into the handgun and slowly walked into the hall. It was dim, barely lit by the light coming through the dirty blinds and grime encrusted windows. He peered through the eye piece and to his surprise he saw the same girl he spoke to the previous night. He locked the safety on the handgun and hid it behind his back as he slowly opened the door.

"Have you got the posts?" He asked through the narrow crack in the door.


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If Nic had any clue as to what the canine was packing behind the door she would have drawn her own weapon in return. Completely unaware she held to her aloft, calm appearance. Arms crossed over her chest, quirking her head to the side. "Right to the point, kinda makes a gal feel unwanted." Despite her outward appearance, she was quick on picking up his stressed appearance. Surely she wasn't that scary. As much as she wanted to toy with him some more she felt it wouldn't be the smartest idea. Keeping some distance from him, the door, and whatever hid behind there. "No, nothin' yet. It just happened to slip my mind that I didn't get my acceptance fee."

She help up her hand before he could speak or move. "Which I wouldn't much mind in the form of breakfast." A small grin graced her lips, wondering if he'd catch on to her offer. She would have asked to eat in but the feeling she got from just being this close to the room made her jumpy. What could he be hiding? Just how does he live? A curiosity she'd get to another time.
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Patch's ears flicked forward at the mention of breakfast. Problem was, he didn't have anything. He looked over her shoulder. It was quiet. So far, the place was not occupied for the most part. With the exception of a few retired pensioners.

"I... uh, give me a second." He said from behind the door. He closed it promptly. Then, made a quick sweep of the place. Everything was in order. Turned off and safe. He looked at the gun. "Best keep this on me." He thought. He knew the weasel was always armed. He also knew she was the sister of the infamous sniper, Knack. Chances are, she was as good if not better. So in a firefight she'd probably win. Nevertheless, he thought it best to load up, and carry some extra magazines just in case. He put the gun in a shoulder holster and then put on a bike jacket over it. His attire was casual compared to his more formal military dress. He was in Mobius now, no need for such things. When he returned home to serve Alicia again, then that part of his life will be needed. With a sigh he looked at the old uniform. It had seen better days, kinda like him.

He brushed his hair and put it into a ponytail. Then took one last look at himself in the dusty mirror. "Not too bad, ya old bastard. You are long in the tooth and a little worse for wear, but not too bad." He mused.

He picked up a set of keys by the telephone on the counter and a motorcycle helmet. This guy had spent quite a lot on himself. Patch opened the front door and slipped through holding the helmet in one hand, he quickly closed the door behind him and locked it, turning to the weasel with a smile.

"Where to?" He asked. "I'll follow."

He started to walk downstairs, glancing over his shoulder at the female. He found her quite attractive in the sunlight. Her fur was shiny, glistening and well groomed. When she smiled she revealed the inherited fang, causing her speech to be slightly impaired by a lisp. Yet, Patch thought it was cute. He caught himself staring and quickly turned around focusing on the steps. Soon, he arrived at the parking garage where under a tarp was a gorgeous Mobian Suzuk GSX-R1000.
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He got on putting the key in the ignition and starting it. The bike rumbled to life.

"Care for a ride?" He asked.

He knew how to ride a bike, it was something he had learned in Moebius. While Anti-Sonic was still leading them. It was part of their "gang" initiation, to be able to ride. Patch not only could ride, but he also rode well, and would often match himself in races against Sonic and the others. Sometimes for pinks, sometimes just for the hell of it, sometimes just to split the spoils of whatever they looted from the cities. That was how things were. Of course it all changed with Scourge. The honor system (if you could call it that) was gone. Scourge took what he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted. No questions asked. No arguments.

Patch learned that lesson the hard way.

Keep your head down, save your skin. That was how it worked.

As he got onto the bike, it all came back to him. He familiarized himself with the clutch, accelerator, and brakes. It was certainly a nice bike. Pretty high end for a common Mobian. "Just another part of the mystery." He thought to himself. He put on the helmet and raised the visor. "So are you coming?" He asked, revving the engine.



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"Uh..." Nic stood there as Patch basically slammed the door right in her face. Now that was gonna cost him extra. Hands on her hips, glaring at the door. Stare any harder and maybe the door would burst into flames. Listening to him from behind the closed door...time passed and she was nearly ready to bust in on him. A gentleman was not supposed to keep a lady waiting...Then again Patch wasn't a gentleman and she was far from a lady. When he finally emerged from his room she raised a brow. "Looking good." Flashing him a smile and a wink. "Ya didn't need ta make ya self so tidy fer me." She resisted the urge to reach out and touch the smooth golden hair.

Noticing his change in attire, giving a slight shrug when he asked where. She wasn't to used to the town herself. Letting him walk past, though wasn't she supposed to lead the way? Not completely unaware of his staring. Something wrong with her? The first few moments she smiled, after that she just felt weird. Looking away to avoid his gaze, pulling her hat further over her eyes.

"This yers?" Nic's interest perked, somehow she just couldn't see him owning one of these bad boys. Walking around the bike, brushing her fingers over the smooth paintwork. "Nice piece." If he had this kind of cash to buy this...Seems she struck gold. Her tail flicking when he offer her a ride, frowning when he rushed her. "Only if ya let me drive." Oh she wasn't a stranger to these kind of vehicles. Hell she would have owned one, but her hover bike was much better, easier to cover ground and left no tracks. Prince Charming. Too bad she had to put him in stoarage, a ride like that would stick out like a sore thumb. Attention was the last thing she needed.

Like hanging around Patch, the Anti Antonie, was any better. "Well?"
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Patch looked at her. "Mon Deu, she was hot." He thought swallowing hard as he watched her walk around the bike. He was already sitting on it when she asked to drive. He gave her a small smile and replied.

"You can drive us after we get breakfast, but first, let me escort you madame."

He smiled as he patted the seat behind him. She would have to sit close. He didn't mind though. He lowered the visor of his helmet and waited, keeping the engine turning in the low gear.

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She sighed, stopping dead infront of the bike. Placing her hands on the handlebars she leaned over to press her nose against his helmet. Her grin a sly one, eyes lowering to half mast. "Come on. Just for a few. Half way? Let me drive it." She wouldn't budge till he either gave up the keys or placed her on the bike himself. Her tail twitching behind her.

Unable to see his reaction behind the visor she could only hope it didn't block out the show she was giving him. Her arms purposefully pushing her breasts together, the cleavage poking up from behind her vest. "Please.."
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If he could, he would have taken her right then and there. He would have made love to her on the bike. Her body supple and lithe would easy contour to the curves of the seat. Pushing the thought from his mind with sheer willpower he revved the engine letting the bike roll forward just a bit. She was an aggressive one, and he liked that in a girl. Still she would not move. With a smile he sat back.

"Go on" He said from under the helmet.

He moved back, but just enough so that she sat in between his legs. His arms wrapped around her, his legs hugged her thighs. Her tail wasn't too much of a problem, though it did prevent him from getting as close as he wanted to her. His hands held onto her slender strong waist. Fingers ran over the taught muscle under violet fur. He wanted to explore her further, but he had to restrain himself. He tried to think about anything.. something... yet his mind kept returning to this fantasy.

That's all it was.

A fantasy.

Nothing more.
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