>>5830571Those are fucking <span class="mu-i">Americans.</span>
A group of three Americans sit haunched over a table in a booth behind a brick wall. Their voices echoed off the walls in order to interrupt your conversation at the bar. As you approach the group, the one you can see most clearly sits has a blonde mullet and bomber jacket. A military patch with the words <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">CHICAGO RED DOGS</span></span> flew on a banner above the face of a menacing mutt in plain English, and below read <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">4TH MECHANIZED DIVISION</span></span>. The one beside him had a similar getup but clearly was not as high a rank emphasized by her lack of sunglasses and olive jacket, while the one with his back to you was wearing a big ass black fur coat and some plain black hair.
As you and Kiikoinen loomed over the table, they all put their drinks back on the table and raised their hands like they'd been caught. “Woah, hey, sorry guys, I-” the man in the bomber jacket stopped for just a second. “Wait a minute, I remember you!”
Lalli was frozen. “You do?”
“Yeah, you don't recall?” The obnoxious man threw a leg over another. “Hah, you don't remember the face, I don't remember the place. Beth, was it here or was it Void?”
“Think it was at the Void, Mikey,” said the kid to his left. If it weren't for her chest, she'd almost look like some secondary schooler with her boyish cut and chin. “Like a month ago?
The man in the big coat was struggling to look over his shoulder at you two. “Yeah and who's the squeeze?”
“Christ, Durant,” this Mikey man bellowed, “Could be his sister for all you know.”
“This is my coworker. A protege, even.” Kiikoinen answers with the familiar rock-solid sternness you know him for. “And now you mention it, yes, I do recall. You're... <span class="mu-i">Plan C</span>, aren't you?” Mikey nodded. “Right, right. Fiona, these guys pilot robots from VR headsets. They're decent people. I... I will be right back.”
“Scoot the fuck over Durant,” Mikey rattled as he beckoned the black coat give up his seat to take the booth spot next to him. “So you're the fresh meat, huh? Gotta be something else, goin' down there in the flesh.”
Pick up to two.
>What are a bunch of Americans doing in Helsinki? Something to do with this “Plan C?”>They pilot ROBOTS!? You demand to know about what it is they do and how they do it.>You know you've heard a bit about Chicago – the pneumatic suits and that dual sword style manhunters use came from there. What else comes from there? Everything?>What to ask, what to say-oh! (Write-in)>Utter Finnish vulgarities and slurs they won't understand and follow Kiikoinen. 