08-02-2016, 09:52 AM
End of Round 11
Behind the oil painting of Karl Jak was a little metal door with a single keyhole in the handle. It didn’t take Christa long to slid the iron key into the lock, turn it, and relish a little at the pleasant sound of the tumblers sliding into place. Grabbing hold of the handle, she pulled open the small safe and started to rifle through the contents of the guarded box. After removing a few bottles of wine and some other dubious-looking objects, the sniper pulled out a black plastic rectangle with a label. Part of the small container was transparent, and she could see what appeared to be part of a hard drive wrapped in shiny black ribbon.
“What is that?” Nanaki asked as Christa turned over the plastic rectangle in her hand.
“A BetaMax.” The sniper remarked as she glanced at the label. “There’s a message on it,” she added as she showed her companion the box.
Red furrowed his brow as he read out loud for the both of them. “Play me. Smooches.” The feline glanced up at the sniper and tilted his head. “That has to be Karl, right?”
Christa scowled as she glanced around the office. In the corner of the room was an old-fashioned television set with a large plastic box beneath it. A flap on the front of the contraption had been held open by two pieces of sparkling purple tape. On top of the container was a sticker of large, purple lips surrounded by hearts. “This must be a recording or something.” Christa said as she walked over to the old machine and pressed a button marked with a purple heart. A series of lights popped up across the display, and the television set woke up and started to spew soft static noises at them.
Although he had a few questions, Red kept quiet as he watched Christa feed the plastic device into the machine. The sniper poked another overtly labeled button and stepped back as a grainy image of Karl appeared on their screen.
“Did you figure it out?” Karl asked toward the two primes as he took a few steps away and waved toward them. “I’m going to assume that I have Christa and Dog watching me, so I’ll cut to the chase.”
“Can he hear us?” Nanaki asked softly as the Karl on the screen walked away only to return a few moments later with a reclining leather chair.
Christa shook her head and pointed back toward the door. Red glanced over and saw that the same exact chair was resting against the wall beneath a bookshelf. “Who knows how long ago he filed this, though.”
“Just a moment!” Karl shouted from off-camera before returning again with a bottle of merlot and a very large glass. Once he poured himself a gracious portion, he gestured to something neither of them could see on the frame. “You can help yourself to the rest of my stash, if either of you feels the need. It’s a lovely little vintage.”
The two primes scowled as the man settled into his chair and crossed his legs. After taking a slow sip from the wine, he set it on an end table next to this seat. “Now… if you’re watching this, it means that I am no longer among the living.”
For a brief moment, Karl’s face seemed dead serious, but after a pregnant pause, the executive threw his head back and let out a series of manic chuckles. Once he composed himself, he fixed the ruffles in his suit and looked back at his audience. “Apologies, but I’ve always wanted to do that. You understand, right?”
The smirk that Karl gave them made it clear that he knew his audience. He proceeded to clear his throat and point at something in his office. “Offices are so stuffy. I can’t believe he convinced me to work this gig. You might not know this about me, but I love the outdoors. It’s right up there with ‘backdoors’ when you discuss my favorite doors,” Karl winked and took a sip of wine. “When I was an intern, they had me do marketing for some camp for teenagers and kiddies out in the boondocks. You would have liked it, Dog, but I think our mutual friend probably would have sunburned.”
Red glanced up at Christa. “Why does he a—”
“Hey!” Karl suddenly interrupted before snapping his finger. “If our time here ever winds up with the public, I think the two of you and your gender-bending performance if ‘I am Legend’ would be the talk of the Dataverse… I need to make a note to make money off of that.” The man shifted in his seat as ideas swirled in his head. Before he got too lost in the potential for capital gains, he shook his head and looked back at his audience.
“But I digress… I sent you here for a reason, so I’ll cut to the chase.” Karl shifted in his seat and looked straight into the camera. “I know that you arrived here under dubious circumstances, Christa, but the truth is, I can help you. You see, there isn’t much that escapes my eyes. I’m no Imperial CIA, but I like to think I get around enough to know some things. Your sister, that’s why you’re here, ain’t it? Envelopes and messages … No, no, you stop with the angry eyes, I didn’t have those things planted. I certainly reached out to you, but I didn’t leave you a moist pamphlet at the Fountain. That sister of yours? Katia? Alive. Don’t ask me how. You want answers, you need to scratch my back.”
Karl shifted in his chair, drank some wine, and glanced at the camera again. “And you, Red. I apologize, but I lied to you.”
The feline prime scowled as he tried to recall his scant conversations with the executive.
“That friend of yours? I lied. Like I said, there ain’t nothing that slips by Karl. If you go into the bottom drawer of my desk, there’s one of those fake bottoms. Not the kind with silicon in it, mind you. Pull it up and you’ll find a phone. You won’t get a signal, but there’s a contact in the phone that will lead you to Mr. Valentine.”
Red rushed over to desk as Christa kept her focus on the grainy recording of Karl Jak.
“Now while he rifles around in there like a good boy,” the man sipped on some more wine, poured himself another glass, and had another long drink before turning back to his audience. “You kept ahold of that device I gave you, right? You need to find the bunker that’s in this city. I’ve tried to go there, but I just can’t get it done. You need to go there and unplug it… you’ll understand what I mean. That’s the only way to pacify the island, and trust me, Sweethearts, you ain’t leaving this place until it’s quiet.” Karl shifted in his chair, and in the background of the recording, Christa heard what sounded like knocks or punches against wood. Whatever the sound was, it seemed to unnerve Karl, because he had to take a moment to catch his thoughts before he turned back to the camera. “I think you know that this island’s not a safe place. Let’s just say that there was a reason why I forgot making it.
“It was supposed to stay hidden.”
Something crashed in the background of the recording, and Karl nearly lost his wine as he stood up from his chair. He set the glass down and walked over to the camera until his face filled the frame. “The bunker, Christa and Dog. Bring some others if you can…. Perhaps Wade? I always got a laugh from his shtick. And maybe that smelly marine, if he hasn’t started to suffer from rigor mortis yet.” Another thud distracted Karl for a brief moment. When he returned, he was smiling once again, although the expression seemed a little strained, even for someone as practiced as Karl Jak. “I have office hours, so I must say goodbye.
“The Bunker. Don’t forget. More than just our egos are riding on this.”
With that, the recording ended and the television started to spit out white noise once again. From the desk, Red had torn up the bottom drawer and found exactly what Karl said he would find—a small mobile phone. The feline dropped it onto the ground and gingerly smacked at the screen a few times before glancing up at Christa. “No signal, but there is a number in here. Along with a few photos from some sort of dessert-themed party…”
The sniper was lost in her thoughts.
Behind the oil painting of Karl Jak was a little metal door with a single keyhole in the handle. It didn’t take Christa long to slid the iron key into the lock, turn it, and relish a little at the pleasant sound of the tumblers sliding into place. Grabbing hold of the handle, she pulled open the small safe and started to rifle through the contents of the guarded box. After removing a few bottles of wine and some other dubious-looking objects, the sniper pulled out a black plastic rectangle with a label. Part of the small container was transparent, and she could see what appeared to be part of a hard drive wrapped in shiny black ribbon.
“What is that?” Nanaki asked as Christa turned over the plastic rectangle in her hand.
“A BetaMax.” The sniper remarked as she glanced at the label. “There’s a message on it,” she added as she showed her companion the box.
Red furrowed his brow as he read out loud for the both of them. “Play me. Smooches.” The feline glanced up at the sniper and tilted his head. “That has to be Karl, right?”
Christa scowled as she glanced around the office. In the corner of the room was an old-fashioned television set with a large plastic box beneath it. A flap on the front of the contraption had been held open by two pieces of sparkling purple tape. On top of the container was a sticker of large, purple lips surrounded by hearts. “This must be a recording or something.” Christa said as she walked over to the old machine and pressed a button marked with a purple heart. A series of lights popped up across the display, and the television set woke up and started to spew soft static noises at them.
Although he had a few questions, Red kept quiet as he watched Christa feed the plastic device into the machine. The sniper poked another overtly labeled button and stepped back as a grainy image of Karl appeared on their screen.
“Did you figure it out?” Karl asked toward the two primes as he took a few steps away and waved toward them. “I’m going to assume that I have Christa and Dog watching me, so I’ll cut to the chase.”
“Can he hear us?” Nanaki asked softly as the Karl on the screen walked away only to return a few moments later with a reclining leather chair.
Christa shook her head and pointed back toward the door. Red glanced over and saw that the same exact chair was resting against the wall beneath a bookshelf. “Who knows how long ago he filed this, though.”
“Just a moment!” Karl shouted from off-camera before returning again with a bottle of merlot and a very large glass. Once he poured himself a gracious portion, he gestured to something neither of them could see on the frame. “You can help yourself to the rest of my stash, if either of you feels the need. It’s a lovely little vintage.”
The two primes scowled as the man settled into his chair and crossed his legs. After taking a slow sip from the wine, he set it on an end table next to this seat. “Now… if you’re watching this, it means that I am no longer among the living.”
For a brief moment, Karl’s face seemed dead serious, but after a pregnant pause, the executive threw his head back and let out a series of manic chuckles. Once he composed himself, he fixed the ruffles in his suit and looked back at his audience. “Apologies, but I’ve always wanted to do that. You understand, right?”
The smirk that Karl gave them made it clear that he knew his audience. He proceeded to clear his throat and point at something in his office. “Offices are so stuffy. I can’t believe he convinced me to work this gig. You might not know this about me, but I love the outdoors. It’s right up there with ‘backdoors’ when you discuss my favorite doors,” Karl winked and took a sip of wine. “When I was an intern, they had me do marketing for some camp for teenagers and kiddies out in the boondocks. You would have liked it, Dog, but I think our mutual friend probably would have sunburned.”
Red glanced up at Christa. “Why does he a—”
“Hey!” Karl suddenly interrupted before snapping his finger. “If our time here ever winds up with the public, I think the two of you and your gender-bending performance if ‘I am Legend’ would be the talk of the Dataverse… I need to make a note to make money off of that.” The man shifted in his seat as ideas swirled in his head. Before he got too lost in the potential for capital gains, he shook his head and looked back at his audience.
“But I digress… I sent you here for a reason, so I’ll cut to the chase.” Karl shifted in his seat and looked straight into the camera. “I know that you arrived here under dubious circumstances, Christa, but the truth is, I can help you. You see, there isn’t much that escapes my eyes. I’m no Imperial CIA, but I like to think I get around enough to know some things. Your sister, that’s why you’re here, ain’t it? Envelopes and messages … No, no, you stop with the angry eyes, I didn’t have those things planted. I certainly reached out to you, but I didn’t leave you a moist pamphlet at the Fountain. That sister of yours? Katia? Alive. Don’t ask me how. You want answers, you need to scratch my back.”
Karl shifted in his chair, drank some wine, and glanced at the camera again. “And you, Red. I apologize, but I lied to you.”
The feline prime scowled as he tried to recall his scant conversations with the executive.
“That friend of yours? I lied. Like I said, there ain’t nothing that slips by Karl. If you go into the bottom drawer of my desk, there’s one of those fake bottoms. Not the kind with silicon in it, mind you. Pull it up and you’ll find a phone. You won’t get a signal, but there’s a contact in the phone that will lead you to Mr. Valentine.”
Red rushed over to desk as Christa kept her focus on the grainy recording of Karl Jak.
“Now while he rifles around in there like a good boy,” the man sipped on some more wine, poured himself another glass, and had another long drink before turning back to his audience. “You kept ahold of that device I gave you, right? You need to find the bunker that’s in this city. I’ve tried to go there, but I just can’t get it done. You need to go there and unplug it… you’ll understand what I mean. That’s the only way to pacify the island, and trust me, Sweethearts, you ain’t leaving this place until it’s quiet.” Karl shifted in his chair, and in the background of the recording, Christa heard what sounded like knocks or punches against wood. Whatever the sound was, it seemed to unnerve Karl, because he had to take a moment to catch his thoughts before he turned back to the camera. “I think you know that this island’s not a safe place. Let’s just say that there was a reason why I forgot making it.
“It was supposed to stay hidden.”
Something crashed in the background of the recording, and Karl nearly lost his wine as he stood up from his chair. He set the glass down and walked over to the camera until his face filled the frame. “The bunker, Christa and Dog. Bring some others if you can…. Perhaps Wade? I always got a laugh from his shtick. And maybe that smelly marine, if he hasn’t started to suffer from rigor mortis yet.” Another thud distracted Karl for a brief moment. When he returned, he was smiling once again, although the expression seemed a little strained, even for someone as practiced as Karl Jak. “I have office hours, so I must say goodbye.
“The Bunker. Don’t forget. More than just our egos are riding on this.”
With that, the recording ended and the television started to spit out white noise once again. From the desk, Red had torn up the bottom drawer and found exactly what Karl said he would find—a small mobile phone. The feline dropped it onto the ground and gingerly smacked at the screen a few times before glancing up at Christa. “No signal, but there is a number in here. Along with a few photos from some sort of dessert-themed party…”
The sniper was lost in her thoughts.
Quote:Deadpool has ‘won’ Round 11. Your stuff is at the bunker, whenever you get there.
Red -> Sent you a PM pertaining to Round 9.
Abner-Colonel -> I think you guys are heading somewhere? Right? If you’re not heading to join up with anyone else, let me know too, so I can give you both something dramatic to build up towards.
Hiro-DP -> Let me know when you intend to find the bunker. I’ll have to write up a longer update post for that scene as well.