06-16-2017, 12:17 AM
At last, some dry land.
Dripping water all over the place, Zedd entered the safe house and fell to a knee just beside the door. He dropped his damp rucksack from his shoulder and to the ground before him, so he could examine the exact contents he had been left with. The tools he had been given were laughably primitive, with the exception of the tablet nestled in the middle. Zedd pulled the device from the bag and looked it over, wiping several standing droplets of water off the screen as he did.
Despite being completely submerged, it still seemed to work just fine. He tapped a button to pull up the map of the island, and sure enough, he was on the outskirts. Blips and notifications appeared in various sectors, but he minimized the app for the time being. There was also an OmniTwitter application running, and when Zedd clicked on it he was shocked to see that some Syntech employee had set up an entire account for him. How they’d gathered enough information about him in such a short time to make a functioning profile was beyond him.
What really pushed his anger further was that there was already a tweet (a word he already greatly disliked) directed his way. It was a selfie (another infuriating term) of the four infernal stormtroopers the Empire had damned him to babysit. They were off duty, sitting in some bar amidst a large crowd and alcoholic beverages. The text underneath the picture merely read “Good luck, Graowr!”
Zedd growled at the disrespect as he shoved the tablet and other contents back into the bag. He would just have to show them, too. He stood up and slung the bag back over his shoulder, tightening the string so it wouldn’t go anywhere. This building had been nice for getting his bearings in, but he wouldn’t win standing around here. Zedd exited the Safehouse, disappearing back into flooded area where he’d begun this nightmare.
It was time to get to work.
Dripping water all over the place, Zedd entered the safe house and fell to a knee just beside the door. He dropped his damp rucksack from his shoulder and to the ground before him, so he could examine the exact contents he had been left with. The tools he had been given were laughably primitive, with the exception of the tablet nestled in the middle. Zedd pulled the device from the bag and looked it over, wiping several standing droplets of water off the screen as he did.
Despite being completely submerged, it still seemed to work just fine. He tapped a button to pull up the map of the island, and sure enough, he was on the outskirts. Blips and notifications appeared in various sectors, but he minimized the app for the time being. There was also an OmniTwitter application running, and when Zedd clicked on it he was shocked to see that some Syntech employee had set up an entire account for him. How they’d gathered enough information about him in such a short time to make a functioning profile was beyond him.
What really pushed his anger further was that there was already a tweet (a word he already greatly disliked) directed his way. It was a selfie (another infuriating term) of the four infernal stormtroopers the Empire had damned him to babysit. They were off duty, sitting in some bar amidst a large crowd and alcoholic beverages. The text underneath the picture merely read “Good luck, Graowr!”
Zedd growled at the disrespect as he shoved the tablet and other contents back into the bag. He would just have to show them, too. He stood up and slung the bag back over his shoulder, tightening the string so it wouldn’t go anywhere. This building had been nice for getting his bearings in, but he wouldn’t win standing around here. Zedd exited the Safehouse, disappearing back into flooded area where he’d begun this nightmare.
It was time to get to work.
Quote:Moving from Safehouse D to D13
![[Image: zedd2018.png]](http://epiqz.com/mysigs/zedd2018.png)