Florence blinked a few times. "Wow, that's quite the story. Now I feel like I should buy you a drink." She blushes, thinking about how stupid that must have sounded. A simple engineer buying a billionaire a drink. "Er, so what do you know about intelligence-grade encryption? I'm stuck on a sequence or six..."
Saronsen laughs lightly, offering a brief smile, but not saying anything to further embarrass her. "I know quite a lot, why? Something giving you a hard time?"He leans towards her, brows raised up slightly.
"Yeah, this strange set of phrases and such embedded inside what seems like a terabyte of zeroes and the occasional random byte. I can't make a whole lot out of it, though I've made out some stuff about non-nuclear-driven EMP buildups. It could be useful to our research project."
She sighs, looking at her drink, and finally puts two and two together.
"Say, you wouldn't know anyone who would know anything about encrypted relating to EMP weaponry, would you?"
"What makes you think I know anything about that?" He gives her a rather.. knowing smirk."I could probably give you a hand at cracking the code, but.. Who knows how it's encrypted?" He gives a fake, sad sigh, before glancing up at her again, once more grinning.
Florence smiles back at Saronsen. "You should, uh, come check it out then. The computer in my office is trying to brute force it, but I'm not having any luck." She blinks, and her smile fades a bit. "If that's, you know, not too weird or anything."
Saronsen raises his brows."Well, I suppose I could give it a shot." He chuckles slightly, fishing into one of the pockets of his jacket, and pulling out a small card, and tossing it on the counter. "Keep the change."He mentions to the bartender, giving him a thumbs-up before slowly coming to a stand."And what could be so weird about me breaking some code?"
Kadar sulked into the pub still clad in his armor, lazily dropping his weapons at the feet of the bouncer and moving to the nearest booth. He removes the faceguard of his helmet, retaining his breathing mask to keep the flow of cardamine to his body present. As he lifts faceguard dark grey lines under his eyes, a blank expression, dilated puples and pale skin are revealed. Cardamine isn't easy to find in Rheinland, as his DNA has already been altered by the substance - he is entirely dependent on it, a month of rationing his own doses to dangerously small amounts has taken a toll on him.
K: *Deeply inhaling the cardamine in his mask, he notices a new face at the bar speaking to Florence*Newcomer, eh?*he remarks to himself, grunts, and continues breathing in the cardamine enriched air flowing through his mask.
A dark brooding man approaches the door to the bar and the guard asks for his weapons. He smiles and gives the man a small dagger that he carries in his coat pocket. After a further search he finds his small firearm tucked away in his other pocket.
"How might I get those back after I'm done?" says the man with a sly smirk.
"Eh. Just come get them when you're done in the bar, I suppose." the guard replied confused.
"Ah, yes yes. Thank you very much." replied the man who slinked over to a window overlooking the planet. "Mmm, what a nice view. Nice view indeed, I can get used to that."
The man casually looked around the bar as if he were trying to find someone. Then made a thoughtful face."Mmmm, makes sense he wouldn't be here. Must be a very busy man. Busy indeed. Hmmmm."He continued to muse to himself while other patrons started giving him strange looks."Mmmm, suppose I'll have a drink while I wait for him to get here. Yes, that sounds like a plan. Mmmm, excuse me, 'tender, might I get a scotch on the rocks while I wait for the owner of this fine establishment?"
You fear oblivion. Yet you forget. The universe remembers every atom of your being. Even dust hums your name in the dark. Roleplay is dead. Long live Powertraders and PvP I guess.
Harold entered the bar, handed a Sanford and Wahlberg GDHC pistol to the guard, and sauntered straight over to the bar.
"A slosh of that nice new Coalition Vodka, my good man," he said to the bartender. "And charge it directly to the Ministry of Finance's internal expenses account. I'm in a bean-counter-disturbing mood tonight."
The man looked around briefly tapping his fingers together as he looked to the owner and back out the window and then back again, and then back out the window.
"Excuse me, sir. Hmmmm, might you be the owner of this fine establishment and in fact this entire system? Owning systems is a very profitable venture. I don't think I need to say anymore about that." The strange man became more coherent the more he spoke about profits. As if speaking about money concentrated his focus."I don't believe I need to tell you that the more goods you have coming into Kansas the better your economy will be as a whole."
The man looked out the window for a brief moment, his eyes slowly losing the focus he just had.
"Oh, hmmmm. Yes, I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Shadow-One, leader of Shadowfall. I don't know if you've heard of us but...hmmmm, yes, we are most profitable to have around."The man named Shadow-One looked at the screen displaying finances and the focus came back to his eyes."Looks like finances could use a little fluff."
You fear oblivion. Yet you forget. The universe remembers every atom of your being. Even dust hums your name in the dark. Roleplay is dead. Long live Powertraders and PvP I guess.
